“She requested an early Salmantican lesson. We’ve actually had a few lessons this week,” Ariel said. He took off his spectacles, diverting his gaze as he polished the lenses on the embroidered hem of his shirt.

Duja’s brow furrowed in suspicion. Laya was far from the studious type, and her distaste for foreign languages was no secret. The king had introduced Ariel to the girls, and they knew he was living in the palace. As for the Orfelian’s true purpose there⁠—Duja’s stomach churned when she took in Ariel’s shifting gaze and nervous fidgeting. Laya had a way with the opposite sex, a gift she no doubt inherited from her father. Duja could see she had already cast a spell over the Orfelian, even if he did not seem to be aware of it yet himself. The realization brought a frown to Duja’s face. Ariel was not a bad-looking man, with his soft eyes and high-boned features, but he possessed none of the danger Laya sought in her suitors. Duja knew her daughter; Laya would not have wasted her time with Ariel if she did not have something to gain from him.

The queen stiffened. Her daughter was too clever for her own good. When it came to Ariel’s presence in Maynara, Laya could sense something was amiss. If she did not yet know about the precioso, she would soon. Duja prayed she would have a better explanation for her interest in the drug by then. For Laya was as clever as she was impatient. She would not understand Duja’s hesitancy to pass down the title. She would assume Duja didn’t trust her to hold that much power, and the discovery would render her furious.

But that conversation, like most of the queen’s worries, would have to wait until another evening. Duja was almost late for the midnight feast.

“Thank you again for your efforts, Dr. Sauros,” she said as she brushed past Ariel on her way out of the workshop. “I will visit you again in the morning to see how the precioso has progressed.”

Ariel dropped his head into a respectful bow. “Of course, Your Majesty. I hope the feast goes well.”