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“Indeed,” Kel said, striving for a light tone. “This isn’t Nyenschantz.”

There was a buzz of laughter; the King of Nyenschantz had beencaught promising his daughter’s hand in marriage to several countries at once, and been forced to pay out multiple dowries when the deception was uncovered.

“I know the Princess of Sarthe, Aimada,” Falconet said. “She’s beautiful, clever, accomplished—”

Lady Alleyne sat up straight. “Nonsense,” she said. “We cannot treat our Prince so! Marry him off to some awful woman from Sarthe? I think not.”

“Joss, your sister is married to a Sarthian duke,” said Sardou crossly. “You are not objective in this matter. An alliance with Sarthe would likely benefit your family.”

Joss smiled, innocence personified. “That hadn’t crossed my mind, Polidor. I was thinking of Castellane. Our constant state of unease with Sarthe drains the city coffers, does it not, Cazalet?”

“What about Valderan?” interrupted Esteve. “An alliance with Valderan could be valuable indeed.”

“Think of the horses,” said Falconet, dry as salt. “Somany horses.”

Esteve glared.

“Falconet may not be objective,” said Roverge, “but Sartheisour closest neighbor, and there is something to be said for solving the bandit problem. I lost a caravan’s worth of indigo powder last month.”

Rolant Cazalet took a gold snuffbox from his pocket. “What about Malgasi?” he said, pinching up some of the mixture of powdered leaves and herbs he kept inside. One could buy such stuff at the Ashkari stalls in the city market. It was a bit of small magic—like posy-drops, which the younger nobles dripped into their eyes to change the shape of their pupils to stars, hearts, or leaves. “Their wealth, put at our disposal, could expand our Treasury, and the footprint of our trade—”

“My sources at the Malgasi Court tell me Queen Iren may be leaving the throne soon,” said Montfaucon.

“Odd,” said Mayesh. “She has only in this past decade consolidated her power. One does not usually willingly take leave of a position of power.”

“Perhaps she is tired of being queen,” said Antonetta. “Perhaps she wishes to take up a hobby.”

Lady Alleyne looked pained. “Antonetta, you know nothing of power or politics. Keep your mouth shut and your ears open, my girl.”

Kel shot Antonetta a glare; he couldn’t help it. Why did she put so much effort into seeming ridiculous in public? She had had better and clearer thoughts about politics and trade at twelve, and he seemed the only one to realize that she could not possibly have lost all her sense in the intervening years.

She simply smiled back at him, as she had the night before: a sweet, charming, slightly befuddled smile. It warmed him—though perhaps that was only the annoyance sweeping through his veins.

“It is not Iren’s choice to leave the throne. They say she is dying,” said Montfaucon. “Which means Princess Elsabet will soon ascend to the throne. We would not need to wait long to have the gold of Malgasi at our disposal.”

“How calculating, Lupin,” Lady Alleyne murmured. “And how it would delight Lilibet, having another queen here at Marivent. Youhavethought of everything.”

“I hear their Court is chaotic and the Belmany rule not terribly popular,” said Raspail. “Mayesh, what do your Ashkari connections tell you? Any news from Favár?”

“There are no Ashkar in Favár,” said Mayesh, without inflection. “We are forbidden from Malgasi, save to pass through on the Roads.”

Kel frowned. Had he known that? He could tell from the expressions of the other Council members that they had not. Shrugging it off, Raspail said, “What about Kutani? If it is only a matter of gold, none has more than they do. And their Princess—”

“Anjelica,” Kel said. He could still see her, or the portrait ofher—the pale gold of her eyes, the cloud of her dark hair. “Anjelica Iruvai.”

“Anjelica, yes,” said Raspail, with a snap of his fingers. “Meant to be beautiful. Biddable, too.”

“Are there a lot of trees in Kutani?” Falconet wondered aloud. “Mangroves, I suppose—” He broke off, his eyes widening.

Conor stiffened. The room fell silent. Beside Kel, Mayesh Bensimon was rising slowly to his feet. The nobles followed him. One by one: Esteve, Uzec, Roverge, Montfaucon, Alleyne…all but the still-sleeping Gremont. As tradition dictated, they stood and bowed, for King Markus had come into the Dial Chamber, and was regarding them with a curious gaze.

The King.Where Kel often thought Mayesh had not changed in the past twelve years, the King certainly had. He was still a big man, with the arms and chest of a stevedore unloading cargo on the docks, but his face had sagged. Great dark bags hung under his eyes, and his fair hair was streaked with white. His large hands, gloved as always in black, hung empty at his sides.

Beside him stood Master Fausten, his constant companion. He had been the King’s tutor in Favár, years ago, when Markus had fostered at the Malgasi Court. When the King had moved himself into the Star Tower, he had summoned Fausten to join him in his studies.

Fausten was a small man, with gnarled limbs like an old tree, the result of a childhood illness. He had the dark hair and pale skin common in Malgasi, though most of his hair was gone now, and his bald pate gleamed with the effort of navigating the uneven terrain of Marivent.

Like the King, he was an astronomer, though Kel had always wondered how one could study the stars when one could barely see the masterful fretwork of the sky itself, glittering in silver and gold. He liked to insist that the sun itself was a star, but Kel put that down to his copious consumption of Malgasi brandewine—an evil-tasting mixture of arrack and whiskey.