That put a complete stop to Mehr’s laughter. She straightened up, offering the guardswoman a cool look that was returned in kind. Her stepmother’s servants had no particular love for Mehr.

“Give me a moment,” Mehr said. Knowing Maryam would have demanded Mehr be brought to her immediately, she added, “I must say good-bye to my guest. I’m sure Mother would agree.”

As Mehr stood, Lalita stood with her.

“Mehr,” Lalita said, a hint of hesitation in her voice. “We will talk more when I return for the storm, but do try to be … careful. Your father will keep you safe, my dear, but these are difficult times.”

Mehr nodded. She was very conscious of the guardswoman waiting for her, listening to Lalita’s every word.

“When you return for the storm we’ll speak properly,” Mehr agreed. “I’ll make sure we’re not disturbed, if I can.”

“Thank you.”

Usha came over and placed Lalita’s hooded robe around her shoulders.

“I’ll see myself out,” Lalita said lightly. She touched her fingers to Mehr’s cheek. “Be brave,” she said. “Nothing harms like family. I know.”

“I’m always brave,” Mehr said.

“So you are,” Lalita said, ever so softly. “My dear, I hope you never change.”

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

The guardswoman led Mehr down increasingly elegant marble-floored corridors to the Receiving Hall. Used solely for entertaining the wives of visiting courtiers, the Hall was no place for a private conversation between family members. No doubt Maryam had chosen the Hall for exactly that reason. She wanted to remind Mehr of her place. This was Maryam’s household. Mehr was just an unwanted interloper: an illegitimate child, a heathen, a visitor.

Mehr hardly needed the reminder. She knew what she was.

The guardswoman crossed the threshold of the Hall and bowed low as she announced Mehr’s arrival. After a short pause, the guard gestured at her to enter. Mehr steeled herself and stepped into the room with her head held high.

The room was sumptuously decorated with silk tapestries unfurled on the walls and rubies inlaid into the domed ceiling. Mehr swept across the Hall, ignoring the watchful, judgmental eyes of her stepmother’s many attendants. She kept her own gaze fixed on the raised dais in front of her where Maryam waited.

Lady Maryam, wife of the Governor of Irinah and scion of one of the great Ambhan families, looked down at her stepdaughter from her raised seat and offered her a cool smile. Mehr gave her a small bow in return.

“Mother,” she said. “How may I serve?”

“Sit down, Mehr,” said Maryam. “We need to talk.”