She shrugged serenely. “All nobles are strong, Lady Empress. It’s in our blood.”

She held up an ivory hand mirror. Dozens of damp, shoulder-length twists bounced around my shoulders, glistening with perfumed oil. “You can wear the twists down tomorrow. We’ll hang the ends with ornaments. I found these at the old city market. Much better than those trashy imports I’ve been seeing around court, if you don’t mind my saying, Lady Empress.” She opened a wooden box. It was inlaid with ivory, and filled to the brim with colorful wooden beads and cowrie shells.

Didn’t she used to hate you? Dayo’s voice sounded in my mind. The whole time, he had been hovering nearby on a divan, pretending to read a scroll. There had been no more attempts on my life since the night of the Watching Wall. But Dayo still felt nervous about leaving me alone with bluebloods.

She did, I Ray-spoke back. But not anymore.

I examined Adebimpe curiously. Since her nervous collapse on my bedroom floor, she appeared to have transformed completely—no longer the haughty, sneering beauty from the palace corridors, snickering behind her woven grass fan. Instead, I’d caught her floating through the crowd at court gatherings, welcoming shyer noble girls into gossip and conversation. I’d even seen her defend a servant once.

Adebimpe wrapped my hair in a silk scarf and bid me good night. But before she left, I called out, “Adebimpe . . .” I chewed my lip, eyeing her eager face. “You don’t have to work so hard to please me, you know. You just lost your fiancé.” I thought briefly of how it felt when my mother died—how exhaustion had clouded every day. “I know how it feels to grieve.”

She cocked her head. “Lady Empress . . . I didn’t love my fiancé, you know.”

I blinked, taken aback. “Oh. But you seemed so aggrieved. I mean, earlier—”

“Oh, I used to think I loved Banjoko,” she said, waving a hand. “The blueblood power was strong in his veins. He used to slay hyenas with his bare hands. But the longer I’ve had to think about it . . . I don’t actually think I wanted to marry him.” Her eyes rose to mine. “I had wanted to be him. Powerful. Untouchable. Like a warrior, or a god. Like . . . you, Lady Empress.”

I realized then, watching her shining gaze, that Adebimpe’s new devotion was genuine. She respected me—thought I was some sort of goddess, not a seventeen-year-old girl who barely knew what she was doing. But I knew I wasn’t worthy—the ojiji had made that clear. I had so much more to do. I wasn’t enough.

Stop it, I wanted to tell Adebimpe. Stop looking at me like that.

But she didn’t, continuing to smile at me beatifically as she took her leave, backing out of the room.

“It just feels wrong,” I told Dayo. “I mean, obviously I’m glad the nobles aren’t trying to kill me anymore. But now they’re all terrified. This isn’t how I wanted to win.”