After the unnerving encounter in the stairwell, Beatrice expected some retaliation from the Queen of Ammar. Some punishment, or at least a sermon at church about a woman keeping her place.

　　What she had not expected was a wave of attention. The very first morning after the eavesdropping, Beatrice was invited to tea with the Queen in her apartments.

　　Queen Eva`s rooms were three floors up in the palace, facing the south where on a clear day, she could see all the way to the sea on the horizon. Unlike the rest of the palace, the Queen`s reception area was impeccably decorated. The floors were covered with layered Sanchian and Boccean rugs, the walls were dotted with paintings of scenes from the holy texts—the Blood King and his angel, the temptation of Saint Soren in the desert, the Winze standing at the Gates of Hell& Beatrice recognized them all from the catechism Duchess Sofia insisted her daughters take alongside her sons.

　　Learn all that you can, my babies, the Duchess often said to them while they labored over their papers in a sun filled classroom that smelled of lavender. Not all of you will wield swords when you`re grown, but each of you most certainly will wield pens.

　　Now, Beatrice wielded teacups. Queen Eva welcomed Beatrice to her company with the ladies Teqwyn and Tommasi. The spread included three kinds of tea to choose from, and three-tiered serving plates laden with delicate cakes and flaky biscuits.

　　Beatrice avoided the food and concentrated on maneuvering the teacup beneath her veil without spilling. None of the women were without theirs, even though there were no men present. Beatrice followed the social cue and kept hers on, though the fabric around her mouth grew damp from her breath after taking a sip of the hot spiced tea.

　　"You must be homesick," the Queen said. "I wonder that Sofia did not send one of your sisters with you. Her own sister was a lady-in-waiting at my court some years ago."

　　"Aunt Ginerva, yes," said Beatrice. "She spoke often of her time in Ammar and how lovely Mahaut was in the springtime. I very much hope to see it."

　　This was only half a lie. Beatrice was looking forward to seeing flowers in Mahaut`s garden when spring came. Aunt Ginerva and Duchess Sofia, however, detested each other.

　　Queen Eva glanced at her for a moment. Under her veil, Beatrice pressed her fingertips into her thighs to steady herself. She waited. If the Queen were going to confront her, it would be now, wouldn`t it?

　　Instead, the Queen changed the subject. "I hadn`t expected to celebrate the feast of Saint Soren to fall before the wedding. I suppose it cannot be helped. How go your preparations for the ball you plan for next week, Catrin?"

　　Lady Teqwyn beamed at the attention. "Swimmingly. With the delay to the wedding, we`ve convinced Gruffydd to part with some of the perishables he`d planned for the wedding feast. We`ll have the most wonderful salad course with persimmons&"A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

　　Beatrice sipped her tea and felt the wave of anxiety pass. When she left to return to Gruffydd`s mansion that day, she assumed that the subject of her eavesdropping was closed.

　　Then another wave of attention arrived the next day. Beatrice was invited to view the garden with Lady Teqwyn. The day after that, Beatrice was asked to sit beside the Queen in church. The afternoon following, she was invited to a game of cards in the Queen`s apartments where they wagered with ribbons and painted wooden buttons until well past midnight.

　　The waves of attention wore Beatrice down and eroded her confidence. The Queen always had something to say that made Beatrice feel lesser-than. As if her father`s reputation as a pirate said all that the world needed to know about her. Still, Beatrice used the time to try to make a better impression on the Queen of Ammar. To convince her that Beatrice would be a good daughter-in-law. She wore her best outfits and answered every question directed at her with a gracious smile and as much patience as she could summon.

　　"I trust your mother has prepared you for what to expect from married life," the Queen said as they sat down to a late breakfast after church. "Sofia is renowned for her intelligence and capability. I hear that her library is even larger than your father`s."

　　"She has prepared me," Beatrice said. She thought of the Hellechraen love manual and thought, And I prepared myself.

　　With Queen Eva staring at her now, Beatrice missed her mother more than ever. Duchess Sofia had a hard stare, too, but it was loving, softened by the curve of her lips and the little crease in her nose. Noble ladies of Sanchia only wore their veils to church—never at home with their children. Beatrice remembered how Sofia had knelt down to look Beatrice in the face when she took back the book. She didn`t yell or scold Beatrice.

　　There are many people in the world and they all love a little differently, Sofia said to Beatrice. We all agree on one thing: Love is an act of worship. When given freely and received sincerely, it is the closest we come to God. Treat it as such.

　　The Queen still watched Beatrice. Beatrice fumbled for more gracious things to say, and came up with something more earnest than she`d intended, "Mama read to us every night, growing up. She commissioned a children`s book of common prayers. I`ve translated it into Ammarish. I hope to one day read it to my children&"

　　She caught herself before she could say more. Beatrice hadn`t meant to tip her hand on just how homesick she was. How badly she longed for a new family to replace the one she left behind.

　　Beatrice couldn`t make out so much as the curve of a lip under the Queen`s blue veil. It was impossible to know for sure whether Queen Eva smiled or frowned.

　　"You translated the prayers yourself?" the Queen asked. "Hm. I hope no coarse words found their way into the interpretation. I would not want any grandchildren reared to immodest behavior."

　　Beatrice gritted her teeth under her veil, and thought of several choice words that she could never say. She could not forget that the Queen now had two holds over her: the belt and the eavesdropping. Like Hell Beatrice would hand over a third.

　　Now the sermon in church that week seemed directed at her. The priest told the story of how women first brought sin into the world when they discovered they could attract a man`s gaze by putting ornaments in their hair. In their greed for men`s attention, they tore the wings from God`s own angels. Atonement, humility& and the vague idea that God in Ammar was less forgiving than that same God in Sanchia was known to be.

　　Beatrice`s mind chafed at the seams where their cultures joined together. She glanced at the Queen when they raised their arms for the blessing and saw how she hitched her veil over her fingertips so that not even her hands were exposed.

　　The perfect picture of piety.