“He woke not long ago, Deputy Courier.”

“I hope the morning found him well,” Elen added carefully.

Luviara’s mouth twitched. She cleared her throat, as if she had just changed her mind about what she wanted to say. “Perhaps it was something he ate at the Halt. When he woke, he refused food and has been unusually quiet.”

“I see. And where is he now? If I may ask.”

“You are a clever woman,” said the theurgist, in a tone that made the words sound sinister, “so I will warn you that questions from a deputy courier inquiring about the prince will not be welcome.”

“Of course, Your Worthiness. My only hope is to be of service to the palace, in whose magnificence I am scarcely more significant than a flea.”

Luviara’s eyebrows cocked upward skeptically.

Elen decided she had laid it on too thickly, so she bent her head, meaning to appear humble. “Before you ask your questions, may I first relieve myself and wash my hands and face?”

Luviara beckoned. The youngest menial, the one Elen had seen setting up the cots last night, trotted over. Unlike the other menials, he had short hair that was not long enough to pull back into an adult’s bun or topknot. “Snip, show the deputy courier to the menials’ privy.”

The youth gave a bow of obedience before turning and walking away, not looking back as Elen hurried after. The prince no doubt conducted his business in a golden bucket, with his concubines to hold and aim his penis so he wouldn’t have to sully his hands, and to clean his handsome buttocks afterward, gently, with moist silk handkerchiefs. The thought made her give a snort of amusement, though nothing too loud. Naturally she was delighted to find two small, curtained shelters set up on the strip of ground between the carriages and the ring of beasts. Snip led her to the one with curtains dyed the same pale lichen-purple as the menial uniforms. The other curtains were warden blue.

“Is the other shelter reserved for the wardens?” she asked.

Snip gave her a look of alarm that merely acted to draw attention to the youth’s lustrous brown eyes and smooth cheeks and jawline, no trace of a beard. He wore a boy’s earring and was perhaps a year or two older than Kem. Although, like Kem, he might have Declared, Elen wondered if the nickname meant he had been castrated as a child, a pre-empire custom said to still be observed in the palace. Hardly a question she was about to ask! It would be cruel, whatever the answer, and yet she couldn’t help but puzzle over the menial’s unusual name.