“I will remind your lord husband that while his parents resisted, they died and my mother lived—long enough to raise and protect us,” she said instead of answering. “As your mother hoped to do. I can bear the slight against her name, because I had her.”

“Live to fight another day.”

“Fight?” Another ghost of a smile. “Will there be a fight?”

“There are many among the Vath who believe I am unworthy of the throne and who would support my half sister over me. So. Perhaps.”

“It was your ancestor who formed the first etihad—confederation of tribes. Against an invasion from the north. But the invasion is past, and we lost.”

“So you will give over our planet?” I said, trying to control the anger in my voice.

She smiled, this time fully, and this time it did not pass. “I didn’t say that, Your Highness.”

Our return to the palatial estate did not go unmarked. I insisted that rather than go around the city we must go through it. And the city listened—they turned out, paused in their shopping, forgot that they were meant to be selling wares or going to the zaouia or temple for prayer. Rabi’a was more practiced at such things than I was and raised a hand at a small child with a smile. The little girl grinned and called out, and it only took seconds for others to call out with her. I rode between Idris and ‘Imad, and ahead and behind us were standard-bearers holding up flags with the various crests of the houses that had joined us in our outing.

It was a dangerous thing I did, I knew. Tantamount to declaring allegiance with Andala over the empire of the Vath. But it was important that my face, Maram’s face, be allied with them. That people began to see Najat in her eyes and not Mathis. I could well imagine what we looked like, returning to an ancient palace, bearing ancient crests. Like the confederation Rabi’a had spoken of.

But the city was not the only one that marked our passing. Nadine stood on the parapet over the estate’s gate as our horses climbed what little was left of the hill. She struck an imposing figure in her stark Vathek clothes and her silver hair, blinding in the sunlight. But she did not come down to greet us, though I felt her eyes on me as I dismounted and made small talk with the others.

She would not suffer the limitations to her power, and if she ever found out the hand I’d played in it, I would pay dearly. But that, I told myself, was a problem for another time.

16