“She can’t hear it,” their mother had said, watching Reyem and Mayu spar as children. It was meant to just be a play fight, meaningless, but Mayu knew her parents were watching and the knowledge made her clumsy. “See how Reyem doesn’t hesitate. Mayu is thinking; Reyem is listening. He hears the music of the fight.”

I can listen too, she’d vowed to herself. But try as she might, she heard nothing, only her own thoughts, constant and noisy, seeking understanding.

Mayu was no different now, her rebellious mind rattling with possible outcomes when it should remain quiet and ordered. She wished she had a watch or some way of telling the time.

They had left Ravka two days before the wedding, the moment Tamar had received word from her spies that Queen Makhi’s airship had left the capital. Their transport was a Shu cargo vessel that had been intercepted by Ravkan forces months ago and redeployed with a new crew.

She’d thought they would go straight to the palace in Ahmrat Jen, but apparently, Tamar and the princess had other plans. They’d set down in the dark, her only clue to their location the heavy scent of roses in the air, and Mayu had sat in silence, watching Tamar and Ehri disembark, accompanied by several Grisha: Heartrenders, Squallers, Inferni. Ten soldiers of the Second Army. King Nikolai could not have liked giving them up. And for what? So that Princess Ehri could be well guarded on some sentimental trip through a botanical garden?

Sure enough, Ehri returned with her arms full of roses the bright orange of coral. Mayu kept her face blank, hiding her contempt. She knew Ehri was an emotional creature, but surely the princess didn’t think a few pretty flowers would sway Makhi’s ministers? If only Tamar and Ehri would tell her what they’d planned.

They didn’t trust her. Why should they? Queen Makhi, whom Mayu was supposed to serve above all others, had tried to kill Princess Ehri twice. Mayu herself had tried to kill Tamar’s king—even if it hadn’t actually been King Nikolai. She was here because they needed her testimony, but she wasn’t a part of this, not really.

Over the course of the journey, Mayu had listened to Tamar and Ehri talk and scheme, unwinding the different threads of their mission, then binding them up again, a bit cleaner, a bit tighter than they had been before. She knew she was only glimpsing a fraction of their plans, and she said little because she had little to say. She had never needed to take much interest in politics, and she wasn’t meant to eavesdrop on the conversations of her betters.