“And on an already broken stallion,” I added. He opened his mouth to complain and I raised an eyebrow in Maram’s fashion. “Unless you would like to not ride at all.”

His shoulders sagged. “I’m old enough,” he muttered.

“My lord husband is barely old enough,” I said, voice dry. “That he is older than us both is the only reason he gets away with it.”

Idris cried out in protest as ‘Imad and I’timad burst into peals of laughter. Tariq clapped him on the shoulder.

“You will be making up for that the entirety of our visit, khouya,” Tariq said. “Honor demands it.”

‘Adil for his part seemed pleased with the sacrifice of Idris’s pride on the altar of his needing supervision. I felt some of the tension in my spine ease. Not for a moment had any of the cousins paused to wonder at my negotiation with their small cousin. I had walked the line between Maram and diplomacy well. Amid the revelry Idris caught my eye and gave me a small secret smile, and I felt my mouth twitch in answer.

So the day went. Eventually, the air cooled, and the orchard emptied. Idris and I retired to the royal chambers, and I found myself in the tower connected to the central courtyard. From there I could see both the flowering skirt of the city and the sea. The sun was dipping below the horizon, and sea and city both were awash in pinks and reds. It was a vision I had not thought to see ever. I shivered as a wind blew through the tower, and the fire in the bier flickered.

I rubbed my hands over my arms as I thought. I’timad’s invocation of family had been deliberate, I knew. A push to see what I—what Maram—would do. I’d handled it well, I thought. I hadn’t agreed to her assertion of family, but neither had I dismissed ‘Adil out of hand. A difficult dance. It had been too long since I’d had to manage so many people against my natural reactions and Maram’s.

A heavy mantle dropped over my shoulders and I jumped.

Idris had come up beside me without my hearing him. “You did well today,” he said. I looked up. “I’timad is … well, she’s intimidating.”

“She’s lovely,” I protested.

“She’s testing you,” he replied. “I don’t know that Maram would have passed the test.”