I considered whether to tell her she was being used to implicitly threaten Ardence. But no doubt that would just open me up for more ridicule. I tried another tack. “It’s a delicate situation. It’s going to be very important not to offend anyone.”

She turned a look on me of disbelieving contempt. “How stupid do you think I am?”

“I know you’re not stupid.”

“What do you think I’m going to do? Piss in the doge’s wine? I’m not an idiot.”

“Well …” I tried to think how to put it. “In our interactions so far, you’ve sometimes been a little … rough around the edges …”

She shrugged. “That’s because I don’t give a damn about you.”

“Well, I’m glad we have that clarified,” I snapped.

“I’d have thought it was clear already.”

I pressed my lips together to keep any more hasty words from leaping out. Friends, I reminded myself. I wanted to be friends.

I tried again. “Do you have anything appropriate to wear?”

“How should I know? I’ve been to so many ducal parties.”

I’d seen most of her wardrobe strewn across her floor, and I doubted she had a suitable gown. Raverra provided well for its Falcons, but most of them would never need court dress.

“I could loan you something,” I suggested. She was a good deal shorter and thinner than me; but the servants could take up the hem, and we could lace the corset as tight as it would go. “I have a crimson dress that would be spectacular on you.”

The mocking indifference in her eyes flickered. I remembered catching her in the act of trying on the blue gown. She probably hadn’t had much chance in her life to dress up.

I had thought to send over a servant with the gown. But …

“Would you like to come to my palace beforehand, to get ready with me?” I hurried the words out, before I could change my mind. “I have a maid who’s very good with hair, and you’ll need help getting into your corset.”

Emotions passed over her face like the shifting shadows of leaves on a windy day. Finally, she tossed her head. “Oh, very well. If you’re so concerned I’ll embarrass you if I get ready on my own.”

I harbored a suspicion she was bent on embarrassing me regardless. “I look forward to it.”

I didn’t tell her I’d far rather she pissed in the doge’s wine than started a war with Ardence. She might take that as an invitation.

“Ridiculous,” Zaira declared. “This whole place is absurd.”

I turned from my wide window overlooking the Imperial Canal, where I’d gone to draw the drapes, to find Zaira staring around my room with an expression of mingled wonderment and disgust.

“Yes, well, welcome to my home,” I said.