The rest of the morning was a whirlwind of greetings and congratulations, wishes for the future, and even a few veiled threats from the Kerch. The throne room was packed with guests and miserably hot, a fact not helped by the weight of her velvet gown, but Zoya endured it all with Nikolai and Genya to help her.

Still, there was something on her mind. “Genya, will you find Alina before she vanishes with her tracker? I need to talk to you both. Meet me in the king’s chambers.”

Genya planted a kiss on her cheek. “Your chambers.”

Nikolai appeared at Zoya’s side as Genya disappeared into the crowd. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet.”

He was accompanied by a Suli girl, tiny in stature, her hair worn in a thick braid.

She curtsied with a dancer’s grace. “Queen Zoya, it’s an honor.”

Zoya studied her a moment, noted the glint of knives discreetly hidden in her pockets and beneath her embroidered vest. “Captain Ghafa,” she said quietly, making sure her voice didn’t carry in the busy room.

Inej grinned. “You know my name.”

Zoya glanced at where the Kerch dignitaries had gathered in a corner. “A great many people are looking for you.”

The gleam in the tiny girl’s eye was wicked. “They’d best pray they don’t find me.”

“If there’s anything you need—”

“She will have it,” said Nikolai, with a smart bow.

“It’s been my dream to visit this place,” Inej said, “to walk the same paths as the Sun Saint.”

“Then we’ll have to show you the Little Palace, where she trained to use her power.”

Inej’s grin widened. “Bhashe.”

“Merema,” Zoya replied in Suli. “You’re welcome.”

A crease appeared between Inej’s brows. Her dark eyes focused on someone moving through the crowd. “That woman,” she said, “in the shawl. Her hair—”

“Friends from the country,” said Nikolai briskly. “Now let me introduce you to my sister Linnea. She’ll want to hear of these new cannons you’re using.”

Zoya would have liked to follow along and listen to them talk ships and sailing and whatever else privateers and pirates liked to discuss, but Tolya was already whisking her off to meet with a group of Kaelish aristocrats. The Zemeni followed, then powerful merchants from West Ravka, Fjerdan nobility, and Count Kirigin, who had dressed in vibrant tangerine, his tiepin a gold dragon with a lump of turquoise in its claws.

Zoya wasn’t sure how much time had passed or how many people she’d met when at last she glimpsed Genya across the room.

She excused herself and hurried through one of the palace’s many passages to Nikolai’s chambers—her chambers, damn it. Genya and Alina were waiting in the sitting room, both of them seated by an open window, the cool air a blessing after the heat of the ballroom.