“I have known the prince a long time, Your Highness,” she said. “And I have not seen him smile so well as the past few days.”

I flushed and looked down at the stable yard, where Idris had rolled up his shirtsleeves and was now in the ring with the stallion. I’d known he wouldn’t be able to resist the challenge of it, and though I’d cautioned him, most of me had not wanted to talk him out of it. This was a new facet of him I was learning: he was competitive and stubborn. The Idris I’d known in stolen moments and in shadow was sweet and generous and kind. And he remained all those things. But he was also a proud man, a prince of princes. And like most princes, he didn’t just like winning; he liked to prove he could win.

“Nor,” Khulood said softly, “if I may be so bold, have I seen you ever look so in all my time in the Ziyaana.”

My gaze jerked away from him and back to her. Unease churned in my belly. Maram did not love Idris; at least, certainly she did not love him in the way I did. And if the ease and warmth with which both I’timad and Khulood greeted me was predicated on our love for each other—what would happen if they ever found out the truth?

“I hope Khulood hasn’t given offense?” I’timad said.

I felt as if I’d tripped over a crack in the ground and could not regain my footing.

“No,” I said at last, looking away from them both. I wanted to say something else—that they were wrong, that they had misread the situation. But a new bride protesting love of her husband would not only have seemed strange; they would have marked it an insult. And I had done what I wanted to do, however accidentally—here were the heirs to two of the most ancient houses on the planet beside me, less suspicious than they’d ever been.

“No,” I repeated, a little softer. For a moment I wondered what it would be like if I weren’t pretending. If I were Idris’s bride, if I weren’t making alliances on Maram’s behalf. But I was not his wife, though the love they’d discerned was real, and it was not me they would make friends with, but Maram.

I’timad must have sensed some of my turmoil, for she touched my hand and came to her feet. “I should like to observe your husband trying to keep his seat a little closer. Khulood?”

“Of course. It was a pleasure meeting you, Your Highness.”