“You told Lord Bayar you had a headache,” Marianna said.

“I did have a headache,” Raisa lied. “What of it?”

“And then you slipped away to meet Corporal Byrne,” the queen said. “How does that look?”

“I sat with him in a public place with my nurse along,” Raisa said, her voice rising. “You tell me. How does that look?”

“Magret says the two of you left her in the maze and slipped off on your own,” Queen Marianna said.

“Magret fell asleep on the bench, and we chose not to disturb her,” Raisa said. “You know how she gets when you wake her up. I had to go back to get her this morning.”

That was gratitude for you. Magret had been rather testy, complaining about aches and pains in her old bones from sleeping on the stone bench all night. Which maybe explained why she’d run to Queen Marianna to tell tales. Raisa had counted on her to stay quiet to cover up falling asleep on the job. You never could tell what people would do.

Marianna cleared her throat. “And then Corporal Byrne was seen leaving your room later that night.”

Raisa shoved back her chair, which made a loud scraping sound. “Who said that? Did you get a report on me this morning or what? Were you having people follow me around?”

“I was not having you followed,” Marianna said in her very reasonable voice. “But the High Wizard came to me this morning. He said that Micah went to look in on you because you’d not been feeling well, and he saw you and Corporal Byrne outside your room…”

And this merited a visit from the High Wizard? What business was it of his? “So it’s all right if Micah Bayar comes creeping around my room, but Amon—”

“Micah was concerned about you, darling. It was understandable that—”

“Micah practically attacked me in the hallway, Mother! He’d been drinking, and he grabbed my arm, and Amon had to escort him back to his room.”

“Don’t be overdramatic, Raisa,” Marianna snapped. “Micah was surprised, that’s all, to find that you and Corporal Byrne had…arranged a tryst.”

The irony was, Raisa and Micah had been meeting on the sly. And a marriage between them was expressly forbidden by the Nǽming. This whole conversation made no sense.

Raisa stood, her napkin falling to the floor. She should have known better than to think her mother would support her against the Bayars. She was on her own, as usual.

“We’re talking about Amon,” Raisa said. “He’s eaten at our table hundreds of times. Why do you keep calling him Corporal Byrne? And as for Micah, ask around. He’s cut quite a swath among the ladies-in-waiting and the serving girls. In fact, there are stories that—”