A white indicator light glowed on the wall. Jainan turned and opened the door in the split second before the chime had a chance to sound.

A smartly dressed staffer stood outside. Jainan consciously ran through the Iskat social cues: her wristband was emblazoned with a crest, thus she must work for the palace, and her earrings were obviously flint, so at least she could be clearly read as female. Iskaners thought their gender presentation was very simple—wooden decorations for men, flint for women—but it was sometimes impossible to spot a bead or stone if it was displayed discreetly, and some people wore neither. The staffer wasn’t wearing a uniform tunic. She must be someone’s aide.

“Count Jainan?” The aide bowed. “My name is Bel Siara, Private Secretary to Prince Kiem. His highness has sent me to assist you.”

Jainan automatically bowed back. She looked vaguely familiar—Jainan must have seen her around the palace at some point, but he was bad at remembering people and worse at making connections. This transition might have been easier if he’d known people outside Taam’s immediate circle, but just moving out of Taam’s rooms was like moving into a city full of strangers.

“Honored to make your acquaintance,” he said. The formal phrase came out easily, polished by use, but then he had to think of what to say next. He had to stop his breathing from speeding up. Bel Siara was in a position to do him a lot of damage if she decided she didn’t like him. “I’ve packed. I’m ready to go.” He turned before she could reply and keyed the chest closed.

The lid slid shut, and the chest unmoored itself, bobbing toward the door as he touched the handle.

“Allow me,” Bel said and moved in to take a pull cord instead. Jainan backed off and let her.

Prince Kiem lived in an entirely different part of the palace. Taam had been given rooms in the Emperor’s Wing, the high-security heart of the palace, though of course he was several floors away from the Emperor. Prince Kiem seemed to have missed out on those; the Courtyard Residence was a long, echoing building of white stone that housed lesser relatives and high officials.

Like all the grand buildings of the palace, they were linked with a snakelike

maze of glass-covered walkways. Iskaners had a compulsion for glass roofs and windows that showed the sky, which had always baffled Jainan, as for most of the year there was nothing there except a blanket of clouds. Iskaners called it a fine autumn day if it stopped snowing for an afternoon.

Jainan used the walk to go over his half-formed apologies for the ceremony.

He never got the chance to use them: when they arrived, Prince Kiem’s rooms were empty.

The suite was a smaller version of Taam’s, built according to the same model.