I turned around slowly but said nothing. Rabi’a was beautiful, I noted. Every inch the Zidane girl as Furat was, with her glistening hair, her heavy earrings, and beautiful dress. But I was the Imperial Heir in this moment, and whether or not she was the scion to a powerful house, Maram would not tolerate being addressed in such a way.

“Your sister seems remarkably ill prepared for court,” I said, and raised an eyebrow.

A small muscle twitch in her jaw was the only tell that she might be angry, but she sank to her knees prettily.

“My apologies, Your Highness,” she said. “Buchra is the only family I have left. I worry for her.”

I flicked my hand lazily, giving her leave to rise.

“It is my understanding that the Banu Ifran clan is large and sprawling in the way most Andalaan clans are.”

“She is my mother’s only other child,” she clarified.

The Vathek conception of family, then. Parents and children, instead of the enormous web of cousins, close friends, and tribal affiliations that an Andalaan would consider family.

“You and your family fascinate me,” I said, sitting down. She joined me across the table. “The children of a willing collaborator whose willing defection some say won the war.”

“You give us too much credit, Your Highness,” she said. I couldn’t tell if she seemed pleased or annoyed at the assertion.

“I don’t think I do. Your native prefecture is small, to be sure, but it was the crack in the foundation that helped win the war.”

“Perhaps.”

“But … since the crystallizing of power you haven’t been seen at court. Your mother rarely made appearances, and you were presented only once. Why?”

“I and my mother before me have had our hands full with the running of our province,” she replied. There was a small curl of amusement in her voice. “We have always been and continue to be loyal to our king and his heir.”

“You cannot run your province from the capital?” So many of the nobles did, it struck me as a poor reason for her absence.

“My place,” she said, inclining her head, “is with my people.”

“I would have,” I said in Maram’s quiet way, “enjoyed having you at court, I think.”

The Vath who governed us were concerned with policing and surveillance, not growth and prosperity. I had looked through the history of the province briefly. The Ifranis were diligent about keeping up with technological advances in agriculture, strengthened city infrastructure, and built schools. The Vath, however, did none of these things on our planet. Their collaboration had saved them from the worst of the occupation’s effects.

“The empire has its king and has little need of me in the capital, Your Highness. I remain with those who need me most,” she said quietly.