“She would not tell me, Amani,” Tala said, and shook the cloak at me. “But she was insistent both that I retrieve you and that I do so with all possible secrecy and haste.”

My eyebrows rose. “Secrecy?”

“Amani,” Tala snapped, and my eyebrows rose higher. She was never short with me. “Please. I did not like how insistent she was, and you know how she is.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, standing. “You’re right. I just—what could she possibly want?”

“I cannot imagine,” Tala replied as she draped the mantle over my shoulders. “You know her better than I do.”

Maram stood as she had that long-ago day, one hand braced on the stone balustrade of her balcony, the other twisted in the folds of her skirt, robed in finery and gold. She was limned by the golden afternoon light, her body framed by the out-of-season greenery of her garden’s treetops rising into the air behind her. Her body was as still as a statue, her expression stoic and regal as if she’d stepped out of a painting of antiquity. She wore a mask, when she rarely needed to with me. Her rage or her happiness—what I saw was of little consequence, for I could relay it to no one, nor could I use it against her.

I sank to my knees, mind racing. It had seemed to me the last time I’d seen her that she wanted nothing to do with me. But here she was now, without her stewardess, and quick on her heels was an air of secrecy.

“Your Highness,” I greeted her as I came to my feet. “Is anything amiss?”

“Why should anything be the matter?” she said.

I would have agreed except for the hollow ring of her voice.

“Have I displeased you in some way, Your Highness?”

“I do not think of you enough for you to displease me, Amani,” she said, voice cool. “I have summoned you to give you another assignment.”

My eyebrows rose. “Assignment?”

“You are to take my place tonight,” she said, turning away from me.

“Tonight?”

“Are you a parrot?” she snapped. “Yes. The wedding procession into the marriage bed.”

I could not stop the surprised laugh that came out of me. “You can’t be serious.”

“I didn’t think your duty was a laughing matter.”

I stared at her, bewildered. The wedding procession to the marriage bed was the consummation night. It was not a festival or a dinner or any other engagement for which I was prepared to take her place. It was a private family affair—the bride waited for her husband as he was escorted to their new and shared bedchamber. There was no risk of harm—certainly not enough to invoke her shield. And she had come here alone, without Nadine.

Something clicked into place. Nadine did not know.

Regardless, I wouldn’t. I couldn’t.

“No.”

“You are refusing a royal command—”