“I do like sitting with my friends,” I say pleasantly. “But it depends on if Mother is there.”

“Quite, quite,” he says, appeased, and continues on.

Maralinde slides me an amused look as we begin walking once more.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re trickier than you let on, you know.”

I grin and offer her a small shrug. “I really do like sitting with my friends.”

We step into the hall a moment later. We’ve used the side entrance nearest the nobles’ table, just below the dais, which means we’ve also stepped right into a confrontation between Maralinde’s mother and Valka not five paces away.

“Oh.” Maralinde halts abruptly, eyes widening. I stumble to a stop just past her.

“I expected better from you,” Lady Emmanika says, her voice sharp.

Valka, facing her, nearly vibrates with fury, two bright red spots staining her cheeks, her mouth twisted in a barely contained snarl.

“You are the daughter of one our leading families. You are placed above so many others here. The servants are here to serve you, certainly, but you have a responsibility to them as well. Or did you think you are only meant to receive and never to serve in return?”

“I know my place,” Valka says haughtily, lifting her chin. “I know exactly what I deserve. You ought to know what you risk by saying such things to me!”

Lady Emmanika raises her brows. “I risk a great deal more by not speaking at all. Now, do not make a scene. There are others arriving, and there’s no need for anyone to know what either of us has said. I see no need to speak of it, so long as you strive to improve yourself.”

“Oh indeed,” Valka sneers, and turns on her heel. Her gaze falls on Maralinde and me, and I find myself stepping back from the glittering wrath in her eye. I hope, oh how I hope, Maralinde and her family leave in the morning.

Valka doesn’t speak as she nears, she just strides right between us, giving Maralinde a shove to the side as she passes.

“Mother?” Maralinde asks uncertainly as Valka disappears through the doorway. I take my friend’s hand, and that seems to bring her back to herself. She crosses to the table with me in tow.

Emmanika breathes a sigh as we join her. “It’s nothing, dear. But I do hope your father will be ready to leave tomorrow. The less time you spend around that child, the better.” She glances at me and smiles faintly. “Ah, Alyrra. Will you be sitting with us this afternoon?”

“Perhaps,” I say, as I always do. “If Mother doesn’t come.”

“Of course,” Emmanika says, and hails a servant to ask if the queen will dine in the hall this afternoon.