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“Your Grace,” Ahnna said, catching herself as she started to bow and switching to a smooth curtsy.

Alexandra looked her slowly up and then down, and Ahnna waited for her criticism, but the queen only said, “You look like your mother.”

No one was supposed to know what Delia Kertell looked like, but Aren had told her that Petra Anaphora had known their mother well, so this wasn’t as great a shock as it might have been. “Yes, Your Grace.”

“I was sorry to learn of her death,” Alexandra said, taking a seat at the table where a steaming cup of tea sat next to a pot. “Delia was a strong queen. A strong woman.”

“But she had a weak heart,” Ahnna said. “That was what took her, in the end.”

“But not you. You survived a dose of wraithroot that would have killed most men.”

It was by no means an admission of guilt, but it was a struggle not to tense as she said, “The Amaridians seemed to want me dead.”

Alexandra made a soft noise that was neither agreement nor disagreement, then gestured for Ahnna to sit.

Ahnna obeyed, carefully arranging her skirts as Alexandra poured her a cup of tea. The thought of drinking it made Ahnna profoundly nervous, except she didn’t believe that the other woman would be quite so obvious in her poisoning, so she took a small sip.

“I had heard you were like Delia,” Alexandra said. “That you were a woman to be reckoned with. The fearsome warrior princess who held command of Southwatch Island and who led Ithicana through much of the war with Maridrina. That you were a woman who picked up the pieces of the failures of men and put everything right.”

“I’m nothing like my mother.” Ahnna couldn’t keep the edge from her voice, because she heard the implication that what happened to Ithicana was Aren’s fault. And while she might criticize her twin until she was blue in the face, Ahnna did not take kindly to anyone else speaking ill of him. “As for the rest, I did what I had to do while my brother was absent.”

“You’re right—you’re not like Delia,” Alexandra said. “You are quick to react, which is not nothing, for many freeze when faced with adversity. But your mother looked forward, and I’ve not seen that in you, Ahnna. You fight only the opponent right before you and don’t lift your head to see the one shooting the poisoned arrow from afar.”

Ahnna didn’t answer, only took another sip of her tea, because her mother had been so busy looking forward, she’d not seen the threat standing right in front of her.

“You are a disappointment,” Alexandra said.

Ahnna drew in a steadying breath, half because the queen’s words confirmed her fear and the other half because her guts were twisting into painful ropes. “I’m sorry for that, Your Grace.”

It’s the tea. She dosed the tea.

But with what?

“Don’t be sorry. Do better.”

“Do you want me in Verwyrd?” Ahnna demanded, the rising pain in her stomach making her blunt. “Or do you wish for me to disappear?”

Alexandra rose to her feet, then set a vial on the table. Ahnna’s heart skittered with the confirmation that her twisting stomach was not the product of nerves. “Believe me, Ahnna Kertell, if I wanted you to disappear, you’d already be gone.”

Ahnna watched the queen of Harendell leave the room. Pain and fear rose in her innards, and as the door shut, she snatched up the vial. Opening it, Ahnna sniffed the contents, recognizing the smell as aloe vera juice right as her innards turned to liquid. “You bitch,” she hissed, then bolted toward the privy.