“You can’t camp outside the estate,” Maram said.

“Of course I can. It’s perfectly legal.”

“I’m not worried about the legality. Why should you camp when we have room in the estate?”

Aghraas raised an eyebrow. “Do you suggest that I camp on the estate grounds?”

Maram felt as if she were being strangled. “No. We have rooms—why didn’t you say something? Are you the child of marauders that you should just endure the elements as a matter of course?” She turned to Fatiha. “Put her up in the master of falcons suite. No one is using it.”

“Your Highness—”

Maram spun back around to face the falconer. “This is a royal command,” she said firmly. “I will not have you camping on the borders of my property like some vagabond out of antiquity. Bring whatever things you have stashed away in … trees or rocks or what have you—Fatiha will install them in your new apartments.”

Aghraas bowed, and when she rose and her eyes met Maram’s she felt a thrill. She had impressed her or surprised her, she thought.

“You are kind, Your Highness.”

“I am practical,” she countered, and left the room.

It took no time at all to situate Aghraas into the apartments in the estate, and a little while later they rode out to continue what they’d spent the last two weeks doing. Each day they would ride out into the estate, sometimes alone, sometimes with an escort. Aghraas would take a survey of the land—any creatures they saw, whether in the air, on the ground, or in the lakes and streams that covered the estate. What was indigenous to the region was recorded, what was not was tagged, and anything that hadn’t been spotted since before the conquest was similarly tagged.

The day passed quickly. In truth, Maram didn’t understand the work. It seemed they were going quadrant by quadrant, but animals relied on no such classification to choose where they ate or bred. Perhaps there was a science to it, but in the meantime, she was happy to tag along. As much as she enjoyed running the estate, she liked riding through it and discovering what lived on it even more. Aghraas was not easy to be with—she was counter to everything Maram knew and understood. And yet she couldn’t talk herself out of these excursions. The falconer had been doing her work long before she’d come for this stretch of visit, and she would continue it after she left—

Her mind veered sharply away from thoughts of leaving. It was always hard to leave Dar al-Zahra’, but she’d already extended her stay. In truth, it should have been her at the wedding. It was not an event open to the public, excepting journalists and their cameras. It was not an event for which she needed a replacement. And yet—