“Do you like that?” she asked. She pointed at one of the dishes on Mehr’s plate. “Anni and I made it.” She made a vague gesture over her shoulder at one slim, dark-skinned woman who was walking over to join them. Behind her were a handful of others.

The one called Anni smiled and gave Mehr a weak wave as she kneeled down. The other women sat down on the ground behind her, ducking their heads shyly.

Mehr nodded cautiously. “It’s lovely.”

“My name is Hema,” the woman said, showing no cautiousness whatsoever. Her gaze was direct and steady. “Anni and I work in the kitchens most of the time. So you have us to blame for the meal.”

Mehr swallowed, trying to find her bearings. She’d been so thoroughly wrapped up in her own misery that she hadn’t expected anyone to approach her. She should have. After all, she was a stranger among the mystics. She was a new commodity, a new tool in the Maha’s arsenal. That made her a curiosity.

Mehr could use that in her favor. She had nothing to barter or bribe with: nothing but her newness, and the novelty that provided. In order to survive here, she would need to learn about what it meant to live in this place. Hema’s interest in her was not an opportunity Mehr could allow herself to lose.

“Blame isn’t the word I would use,” she said. She forced herself to keep her voice light, welcoming. There was a trick to this. She’d grown rusty at friendly conversation, but she could remember if she tried hard enough. “I’d rather thank you. I haven’t had anything so pleasant to eat in a long while.”

“You’re most welcome,” Hema said graciously.

Anni leaned forward. “Is it true you’re from Jah Irinah?” she asked tentatively. “From the Governor’s own household?”

“Yes,” Mehr said. It was no secret, surely. “I’m the Governor’s daughter.”

She was suddenly faced with a barrage of noise. It took her a moment to make sense of the jumble of questions being aimed at her. The women had only given the appearance of being shy. They wanted to know everything—absolutely everything—about Jah Irinah.

“What do the buildings look like? Are there gardens—and water fountains? I heard you have so much water there you can decorate with it.”

“What is the food like? Is it different from here?”

“Are the buildings really covered in jewels? Rena told me they were—”

“I didn’t,” the one called Rena said indignantly.

“Rena, you did!”

Mehr looked from one speaker to the next, trying to look beyond the dark robes that marked them as her enemy. Girls, Mehr thought. They were just girls. Many of them looked younger than Mehr, maybe only a handful of years older than Arwa.