Buchra’s hair was brown and curly and she had not bound it up in the court fashion. Instead she used it as a veil and allowed it to fall across her face so that when we walked side by side I could not discern her emotion.

“Do all the girls wear their hair thus in Qarmutta?” I asked.

She nearly flinched; I could see it in the way her body tensed up and the momentary hitch in her step.

“No, Your Highness,” she said at last, and tucked some hair behind her ear. “I can’t sit still enough for someone to braid it up is all.”

“How was your journey?”

She shrugged.

I stopped on the path and held my hands in front of me, waiting for her to realize her mistake. She was fifteen or thereabouts, certainly old enough to know court protocol. Old enough to understand how to communicate with her future queen. She understood her mistake a moment later and sank to her knees.

“Apologies, Your Highness,” she said. I waved a hand and she came to her feet once more. “I don’t travel often, and I dislike being away from home.”

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “You are a scion of your house,” I said as we began to walk again. “Surely you were prepared to leave it eventually.”

“Rabi’a does the traveling and the … court things.”

“Court things?”

I saw her almost lift a shoulder again, then catch herself. “Making appearances and that sort of thing.”

“I see. You hate it that much? You seem quite sullen.”

Buchra flushed a deep red and looked away. “Traveling does not agree with me. If you would excuse me, Your Highness?”

I was tempted to keep her, but I needed her on my side. Forcing her to suffer under my eye any longer was counter to that mission.

“Send your sister to me,” I said at last, releasing her.

I found a private alcove overlooking the sea and waited. My instructions from the rebellion were clear: find a way to turn the Banu Ifran to our cause. That would be difficult if the younger sister was terrified of Maram, of even being alone with her. Rabi’a presented a different challenge. From the little Idris told me, she was skilled in the games at court. I would have to learn and adapt to the field—my life and the lives of many others depended on my success. I tried to slow my mind and focus on what I had to do today: only make contact. Nothing more.

Rabi’a’s quick footsteps heralded her arrival.

“You have frightened my sister,” she said by way of greeting.