“I understand she’s being kept very busy, Naryan. For a time she was the only squire Duke Verrakai had.”

“I know I’m not supposed to ask, but—but I have to—” Naryan looked at Maris, then at Arian, and finally at Lady Marrakai. “Do you think Duke Verrakai really tried to have my brother killed?”

Lady Marrakai’s brows went up, but she answered calmly. “No, Naryan, I do not. Someone else has wished her and your family both evil and wanted her to have the blame. It is easy enough to get a bad reputation if you’re not like everyone else.”

“But my mother—” Another wary glance at Maris, who said nothing. “My mother isn’t a bad person, milady. She’s not. And they’re lying about her—”

“And if they’re lying about her, Naryan, do you not see that they could be lying about Duke Verrakai? That your mother could be mistaken, without being bad?”

“I want to go home,” Vilian said suddenly. A tear ran down her face; her voice was choked. “Our real home. We can’t visit Mother—we can’t see Father—our friends won’t speak to us.”

“I will,” the Serrostin girl said, putting an arm around Vilian’s shoulders. “Vili, I’m still your friend. They told me I couldn’t visit, is all, but I wanted to come over here, and Mama said I could come with Lady Marrakai.”

Lady Marrakai turned to Maris. “You know, Maris, you could bring them to our house. It’s true Gwenno’s not there, so Naryan would not enjoy it as much, but at least they’d be around some young people.”

“Charity,” muttered Maris.

“Yes,” Lady Marrakai said. “And you don’t fool me, Maris: I’ve seen you extend hospitality to others in hard times. Whatever happened is not these girls’ fault.”

She turned to Arian. “My pardon, Queen Arian, for intruding our concerns on your space. I would have come earlier, but I find having five of my own to supervise—” She looked up, and her brow furrowed. “Oh, dear. I could always count on Gwenno to help me, and there they go—pray excuse me. Tiran, dear, just stay here; I’m sure your mama won’t mind. I see that Julyan’s about to run off with one of the cart horses.”

“By all means,” Arian said. Lady Marrakai was already up and moving toward a cluster of younger children around the horses. The servants, busy carrying trays of food and drink back and forth, hadn’t noticed yet that a black-haired boy had swarmed up the harness and now leaned down to offer a hand to another.

“I never wanted to like her, but I always did,” Maris said into the sudden silence that followed, nodding toward Lady Marrakai.

“Why not?” Arian asked.