By the time the banquet had commenced, Katherine had already formed her first impression of the Sbaians, which had been favourable. The pair of eldest princes Murad and Mehmet were handsome and polite, with sophisticated airs that made them quite a natural fit to sit at her table. On her right sat Mehmet, and on her left Rima, who had been instructed to become Katherine’s shadow, and who made suspicious eye contact with Freyza, who sat with other important emissaries and diplomats, on numerous occasions throughout the feast. Wine was flowing, and much to Katheine’s surprise, the Sbaians drank merrily. Katherine herself had no choice but to drink along, and by the time the roasts appeared, she had already dropped a utensil out of her hand twice out of sheer intoxicated lack of coordination.

  It was then, that the closed doors opened again with a low whoosh deserving of the weight of the wood they had been carved from, and let in the air that was cold and untainted by the fireplace that crackled and hissed despite the hot temperatures of the day. It was still Ilworth, and by night it could cool down to the degree of discomfort even in summer. In the doorframe stood a pair of short and stout people, one male and one female.

  ‘The Archduke and Archduchess of Neuhausen!’

  Katherine immediately lit up with the announcement but contained her desire to shout out for her sister. Rima had her hand on Katherine’s leg as if to tell her not to stand up, at least yet.

  Once they came into the light of the hall, eyes were firmly upon the archduke and archduchess. Eleanor, who looked rather a lot like Katherine, however had a particular loveliness that had escaped her elder sister, had golden blonde hair that caught the light beautifully and framed the fair yet lively complexion of her face perfectly. No matter in what light she stood, the delicate nature of her face made her appear straight out of her portraits. George, who was only half a head taller than the diminutive Eleanor, had always had something mysterious. Though he was rarely spoken of, this was more of a testament to his solipsism rather than the inability to produce anything interesting to say about him. He kept to himself, and from the pleased smiles nearly omnipresent on their faces, it seemed to work.

  They came towards the table set upon the dais and bowed softly.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ George said as he came back up.

  ‘Lady Katherine,’ Eleanor chimed in.

  Katherine chuckled happily and clapped her hands together. ‘My lovely neighbours,’ she said, ‘Whom I see from two of my illustrious borders. More importantly, my cherished sister and the beloved Lord Marbury. Welcome to Norbury Lake again. I wish I could say that I had been expecting you.’

  Eleanor eyed her sister mischievously. ‘Then we would have missed the element of delightful surprise, I am afraid.’

  Katherine smiled contentedly and briefly winked at her sister, whispered, ‘We’ll talk soon.’

  They made their way to their seats and Murad, sitting by Katherine’s side, narrowed his eyes. ‘Your Massouric prince?’ he asked.

  Katherine shook her head, surprised that he had chosen to talk to her in Baradran after a few ill-received Sbaian phrases had been lost on her. ‘No,’ she replied, ‘My sister and her husband. Rulers of Neuhausen.’

  He raised his brows. ‘My apologies. I’d always assumed Neuhausen to be an extension of Massouron.’

  She had brought the goblet to her lips again but lowered it with great amusement. ‘If it is the extension of any state, Your Highness, it would be mine. You’d be surprised how much we little kings and queens up north may fuss about such small units of land.’

  It amused Murad by the look in his eyes. Katherine had no doubt that she had made a great impression on him, and felt safe in this impression enduring that she chose to sat by his side, no matter how Freyza had protested when he heard of the plan. The sultan had excused himself for the earlier part of the night, perhaps in reaction. How he had heard, was still largely unclear…

  ‘You must manage a lot,’ said Murad amusedly. ‘Perhaps more than any other woman.’

  ‘Do I look particularly burdened by it?’ she asked.

  Murad let his eyes glide softly over her, pausing at her eyes briefly. ‘Burdened? Not quite. But I would not be surprised to hear that you scheme. You appear to know your gifts rather well. You play into your supposed weaknesses — you call yourself a little queen despite knowing no queen greater than yourself. A lesser man would consider you toothless. I find myself at the foot of distrust.’

  ‘I know of one queen greater than myself,’ Katherine said immediately, ‘That is, within my lifetime. I can name at least a half dozen greater queens this country alone has had in the past.’

  ‘This is precisely what I mean,’ said Murad. ‘I’ve learned from my brother that the less one barks, the harder one bites.’

  Katherine threw her head back and laughed. ‘Dear Prince Murad,’ she began. ‘I bite and bark at random. I’ve noticed that yields the best results. God forbid I may one day see an inheritance of the Sbaian seat of power, and God willing it will be you who shall be victorious, I would advise you err to the side of bark, and bite when you intuit it to be the right time.’

  Rima tapped her open palm against Katherine’s leg. De-escalate.

  ‘Hm. I suppose we’ll have to write when that day comes, then, Your Majesty. Unless, of course, we keep in touch,’ Murad said.

  Katherine had squeezed Rima’s hand so tightly that she had no choice but to retrieve it from Katherine’s side, all but yelping from the discomfort. ‘I have no doubt in my mind that we’ll be fast friends by that point. I’ve noticed in my past dealings with rulers that the foot of distrust, as you’ve so elegantly said, is great ground for an enduring alliance.’

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  Though she was drunkenly enthralled with the power bestowed upon her by Murad, she saw over his shoulder that Freyza slipped through the cracks of the door on his way out, and she found herself scowl.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Murad, noticing the change in her expression.

  Katherine straightened her mouth and softened her eyes. ‘Some men really insist on expressing their displeasure in the most irritating of ways, Prince Murad.’

  The first thing that Katherine did when she settled into her chambers for the night was to dismiss Rima and call for Eleanor, who had come by the time a servant had collected a bottle of gin. So far, she did not wish to be dressed in her robes, or for her hair to be brushed, no matter how small the hour was, or how odd she must have looked in her Sunday best sitting drunkenly on her chaise, her shoes discarded yet.

  Eleanor seemed in far better shape, looking far more rested than her elder sister did, and sat down opposite her. ‘Where’s the Massouric court, actually?’ she asked. ‘I just noticed I haven’t seen your betrothed yet.’

  Katherine had not looked up while Eleanor spoke, instead transfixed by the clear liquid in the goblet in her hands. ‘Don’t call Henri that. I’ve been having doubts. They will arrive in a few days — we are meaning to get as much time without them in order to sway the opinion of as many fixtures of Sbaian court.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Eleanor. ‘Well, I’ve told you before what I thought. Henri is a cur.’

  ‘A cur with a new bastard son from a whore I cannot stand,’ Katherine added. ‘Whom they shall legitimise may I ever become a problem to them. Besides… you’ve seen who was sat beside me, Ellie. Purely based on face, I’d say Murad is a better choice than Henri. I had been warned that he would be handsome, but the young man is charming as well.’

  ‘Did you not have a Sbaian lover already?’ Eleanor chuckled. ‘I’m struggling to keep up with your whims.’

  ‘Did you not see him leave halfway through? He’s a jealous man with far too little prestige to be so jealous,’ Katherine spat. ‘He wished for me not to be seated next to any of the princes lest they may become too smitten with me. What else did they come here for? I’ve not made a single alliance based on any other factor.’

  ‘You sell yourself short — your Sbaian lover has a point,’ said Eleanor. ‘I don’t think we’ve had the honour of meeting, but in my mind, from your tales, he has become quite the voice of reason.’

  Katherine had withdrawn her legs from the side of the chaise in order to hold them, her skirt baring her stocked calves and feet. Even those stockings appeared to be made in a far, foreign land, based on their refinement and the sheen of the fibre that had been used to make them. Eleanor thought that there was nothing she wore but her signet rings, that was stil Ilworthian.

  ‘He left,’ she said. ‘He told his secretary to keep me out of trouble and he left. God knows what he’s doing. You cannot be the voice of reason and leave at the same time. In that case, you are the absent voice of reason. The silence of reason.’

  ‘Silence of reason is still better than the voice of madness,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘With which you mean Henri? Ellie, I’d love to marry for love, and I’m happy that somehow you’ve grown to love the man promised to you since your childhood, but like you said, you struggle to keep up with my whims. I think anyone would. At least Henri relates, and we can both go our merry ways, if he is who I decide will be worthy of my hand. I do not know whether that will be the case.’

  ‘I’ll have to talk to him,’ Eleanor decided, her heels clicking on the ground.

  ‘No, you will not,’ Katherine ordered.

  At this point, Katherine was beginning to flush through the painted veil on her face, which now appeared blotchy and sickly from the redness beneath. Her rouged lips were looking chapped and crackled. Her hair was a frizzy mess. Eleanor struggled to see her sister like this, this buttress of majesty and grace in an intoxicated and irritated state within which such mortal and trivial matters mattered to her.

  ‘You’ll just live your life like this?’ Eleanor asked instead. ‘I come here to speak with you like sisters, like confidantes, and though you struggle not to bring up your Sbaian beau, you then entirely discredit your own feelings. You reduce yourself to a fool. When you deny yourself what you want, you are not the master of it. When you let yourself only indulge in a fraction, it may only keep you sated a short while. You need to stop seeking out favourites if you wish to not appear to me a blubbering mess.’

  Eleanor’s gaze was uncharacteristically sharp. Katherine cradled the goblet in her hands, wiped the rim of the red paint left by her mouth, and peered down the liquid abyss with the same conviction she had peered down the window at Bourrac House.

  ‘Freyza is the only man who I am positive would rather leave me than remain,’ she said finally. ‘I have no grasp on him. He is immune to me. Having any sort of expectations of him will surely result in the demise of my belief that I am indeed this mythical queen. I’d rather waste my life on those who appease me than have my heart ripped from my chest once.’

  ‘Had he not taken you into the mountains for a surprise?’ Eleanor asked. ‘Has he not made ample time for you thereafter?’

  Katherine lifted a hand to her face and wiped the beginnings of tears from under her eyes. ‘I’m afraid I am but a tool to him,’ she said. ‘He’s ambitious and serious and diplomatic. He’s half a scholar and half a lawmaker. Most men are lucky to see even a glimpse of me — he has now accustomed himself to my throwing myself at him. I am trapped. What he has done in my name and to strengthen my reign, I can never repay him. Yet, I’ve come to understand that it not only benefits me. His glory is great: far too great ever to waste on becoming a royal favourite to a whore queen who keeps many. He told me once that hard work is never wasted. Though I thought it was silly at the time, I’ve come to realise that indeed it is not.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Eleanor, blinking limply. ‘Much appears to have changed, then.’

  ‘How so?’

  Eleanor wiggled her white brows and sat back, appearing rather smug. ‘The last time we spoke about this, you were worried about the intensity and the seriousness of his feelings. Now that is the very thing that you seem to crave.’

  ‘Not true,’ Katherine bit. ‘I am looking to be continually entertained, that is all. I do not allow foolish uncertainty and that is all. He has put me in a sour mood by leaving, and it has cast a light on the fact that not a single interaction this past time has gone my way at all. It’s all work, work, work with him. Doesn’t he understand? I make fate by speaking it. You can work as hard as you want but if I will you into power, into power is where you are cast. Talk about barking up the wrong tree…’

  When she was finished, Katherine made an observation that deeply severed her ties to her own words. She heard Louise in her words. Both women willed their favoured courtiers into power with no regard for the lives of others. Dismissal of her favours was perhaps the noblest thing one could do.

  Eleanor grinned. ‘I understand. A bit of a conundrum, I think. I suppose there is nothing to be gained by talking it out, is there?’

  Without grasping even a fraction of the irony in Eleanor’s voice, Katherine shook her head. ‘All there is to be done is to try to continue getting my way and denying him his way. There is no compromise to be made. We should head to bed.’

  ‘It’s not a bad idea,’ said Eleanor. ‘What’s on the itinerary tomorrow?’

  ‘God,’ Katherine sighed. ‘A joust, a hunt. Lots of time spent in musty halls talking to an aged pervert and his nearest and dearest, despite the fair weather. The day after, Henri and his cohort will come. By that point, I should have already made an impression on these sand-eaters, considering I do not particularly cherish the idea they’ll have of me when they realise Henri and I are still technically to wed.’

  Both women stood up, and Eleanor amicably put an arm around her sister. ‘I’m sure that you, of anyone, will be able to shine your light upon anyone so brightly that it blinds them.’

  ‘For better or for worse,’ said Katherine.