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“Alette,” Corene whispered, afraid to speak any louder, afraid to startle her. “Don’t.”

Alette just closed her eyes and swayed forward.

Corene shrieked, but Greggorio lunged. He grabbed Alette’s arm and wrenched her backward as she screamed and twisted to get free. Steff leapt to help, and together they dragged her to safety, though her arms and legs bumped heavily against the metal railings and Corene was sure she would be covered with burns and bruises. Alette fought them, moaning something in a language Corene couldn’t understand, but it was clear enough that she was begging them to let her go.

To let her die.

Corene was shocked motionless, but Greggorio, of all people, seemed calm and in control. Once Alette was safely off the railing, he took her in his arms, then sank to the wooden floor, holding her so closely that her flailing hands were immobilized against his chest. He leaned his head over hers and murmured something in her ear—reassurances, surely, promises that everything would be fine, that whatever troubled her could be fixed—and did not look up until she grew quiet and passive in his embrace.

Corene just stood there, still staring, but Steff crouched beside them, and the two men conferred. “How can we get her down?” Steff asked.

“I’ll carry her.”

“If she starts struggling, you could both fall.”

“You go ahead to catch us.”

“I can carry her part of the way,” Steff offered.

“I’ll do it.”

Steff straightened up and threw Corene a single look of distress. She just nodded—
It’s as good a plan as any
—and said, “Should I go first? To let the others know what happened?”

“No,” said Steff. “We don’t all want to come crashing down on top of
you
.”

“We won’t fall,” Greggorio said quietly. “But you might have to help me to the stairwell, and guide my feet down the first few steps.”

Corene watched helplessly as Steff dropped through the trapdoor and found his footing. Still sitting on the wooden floor and holding Alette in his arms, Greggorio inched over and let his feet dangle into the stairwell until he, too, caught his balance. He rose cautiously to his feet and slowly disappeared.

Corene came after them, far enough back to keep out of Greggorio’s way. They made a slow, strange procession down the steps that the men had run up so merrily just a few minutes earlier. Corene could see that Steff was descending backward, one hand against the wall, one hand on Greggorio’s arm to keep him steady. She could tell that Greggorio was feeling his way down blindly, keeping one shoulder against the rough granite of the stone. She could glimpse the top of Alette’s dark head pressed into Greggorio’s shoulder, could see the bright fabric of her robe fluttering around her thin legs, but the girl didn’t speak and scarcely moved and might not even be breathing.

Corene’s thoughts chased themselves wildly through her mind as she followed them down. Had Alette come to the tower this morning specifically so she could throw herself off? What had made her so miserable that she wanted to die? Had she received terrible news from home? Been treated badly by Filomara? Was she simply an unhappy girl, unstable and wretched, unable to manage the normal blows and disappointments of daily life?

Unbidden, fragments of a recent conversation with Jiramondi floated to the top of her mind. He had said,
I am not convinced her father didn’t send her here to marry one of us and then stab him in the heart some night when he was sleeping.
Alette could do almost as much damage to international relations by killing
herself
. That would most surely provoke enough outrage to invite hostilities from Dhonsho.

You have spent too much time at court suspecting everyone’s motives,
Corene scolded herself.
She’s probably just a troubled girl who could not endure some tragedy the rest of us know nothing about.

It seemed to take a year to navigate the stairwell, but finally they safely reached the ground. As soon as Greggorio strode out into the sunlight with his burden in his arms, cries of consternation rose from the waiting carriages.

“What happened?” Melissande called. “Did she faint?”

“Was she dizzy? The heat is so intense up there,” Liramelli spoke up.

Steff and Corene glanced at each other, wondering if it would be better to conceal the truth. But Greggorio didn’t hesitate.

“She tried to jump,” he said. “We were barely able to stop her.”

“Jump!” Garameno exclaimed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Alette loosed a low moan and began to sob uncontrollably into the front of Greggorio’s jacket. For the first time during this whole terrible interlude, Corene saw him look uncertain. He could cope with a wild woman, she thought, but not a weeping one.

“Oh, the poor girl,” Melissande said. In a moment, she was on her feet and out of the carriage she had shared with Garameno and Liramelli. Climbing into the empty coach, she gestured imperiously at Greggorio. “Bring her to me. I’ll take care of her.”

“Maybe we should—” Corene began, but Melissande shook her head.

“She and I will ride together. I am sorry, but the rest of you will have to crowd together in the other carriage. Come now. Do as I say.”

When Melissande spoke in that confident voice, it was impossible to gainsay her. Soon enough, Melissande and Alette were in the lead carriage, heading back to the palace, and the other five had folded themselves into the second coach. Corene couldn’t settle in place until she’d scanned the ranks of accompanying soldiers and spotted Foley among the lead riders. Then she sank back against the seat cushions with a sigh.

“She tried to
jump
?” Liramelli demanded as soon as the first carriage was out of earshot.

“I heard Steff cry out, and then I turned around and saw her standing on the railing,” Corene said. “I have no idea why she didn’t topple over.”

“How did you stop her?”

“Greggorio and Steff hauled her down.”

“Greggorio, mostly,” Steff said.

“Then my cousin is a hero,” Garameno said softly. “You must be praised for your quick actions.”

Greggorio didn’t answer. Like Steff, he was sitting in the backward-facing seat, but he had twisted around so he could watch the other carriage.

“Did she say why?” Liramelli wanted to know.

“No, she just started crying,” Steff answered.

“I can think of a number of possibilities, but they’re all pure speculation,” Garameno said.

“Well? Don’t keep them to yourself,” Corene said.

He seemed amused at her sharp tone. “Perhaps she’s had a letter from Dhonsho containing bad news. Or perhaps she recently wrote asking to come home, and the reply she received merely said, ‘No.’”

“And
has
she received such a letter?” Corene asked. “Surely someone in the palace is monitoring all the mail.”

Garameno put a hand to his heart and looked pained. “Princess! I am shocked that you have such a low opinion of the empress!”

Corene just waited.

Garameno managed a lopsided grin. “To my knowledge, no such letters have arrived.”

“She might just be homesick,” Liramelli said. “It’s obvious she’s not happy here.”

“Maybe she’s ashamed of something that’s happened,” Garameno said. “Maybe she’s done something that she knows would render her an outcast at home.”

“Well, I can’t imagine what,” Steff said.

Garameno shrugged. “Maybe she’s pregnant.”

They all cried out at that, and even Greggorio swung around to enter the conversation. “You’ve got a nasty mind,” he said angrily.

Garameno spread his hands. “How so? Pregnancy is an unfortunate side effect of certain very human activities, and Alette would not be the first woman to find herself in such a predicament.”

“Well, since she’s hardly
spoken
to anyone, I can’t imagine she’s taken a lover,” Liramelli said.

Garameno’s gaze was fixed on his cousin. “She sees three eligible
men on a daily basis. It’s certainly possible that she would develop a fondness for one of them.”

“I suppose that’s true,” Liramelli said, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Corene didn’t speak; she was fascinated by the interplay between Filomara’s nephews. Greggorio looked flushed and angry, and maybe the slightest bit guilty. Garameno appeared calm and relaxed, but Corene sensed that he, too, was hot with anger. It was yet another reminder of how intensely Filomara’s heirs were competing for her crown, how clearly they saw their cousins as rivals.

“Who would be the likeliest seducer?” Garameno went on. He gestured at his lap, where even on this hot day, a light blanket covered his twisted legs. “The man who needs a great deal of cooperation before he can take a woman to bed?” He flung a hand out to indicate the palace where, presumably, Jiramondi was engaged in some useful pursuit. “The man who does not even
like
women? Or the handsome, whole, attractive specimen who kisses any girl who stands still long enough for him to embrace her?”

“I ought to punch you,” Greggorio said fiercely. “And if you
were
a whole man, I’d do it.”

Corene felt Liramelli flinch beside her, but neither of them interrupted. Steff was similarly silent, though his troubled gaze passed back and forth between the cousins.

“And yet I don’t hear you saying that, as far as
you
know, there’s no reason Alette could possibly be with child,” Garameno said.

As if he couldn’t help himself, Greggorio swiftly glanced at Liramelli, then away. “It’s insulting to her that you would even say that. But, no, I would have no reason to think she might be pregnant.”

“Yet you do have a relationship with her,” Garameno pursued. “I have seen you talking in the conservatory, and in the gardens, and you escorted her to the market not three days ago.”

That got all of them staring at Greggorio. Although it had never been explicitly stated as a rule, shopping expeditions tended to be group outings—and
no one
else had been able to engage Alette in a private conversation. Again, he flicked a look at Liramelli.

“So what if I talk to her? If I’m nice to her? Nobody else in this
whole city is. If she’s lonely and sad, it’s because she’s been treated so badly. I was just trying to befriend her.”

“Which is admirable, of course,” Garameno said. “Since you’ve
befriended
so many other women.”

“And she hasn’t been treated badly—you shouldn’t say that,” Liramelli said. “I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve tried to talk to her. And my mother has tried, and Jiramondi, too! She’s always aloof.”

“We’ll all try harder, after today,” Corene said.

Garameno glanced at her. “And have even less success, I’d wager,” he said. “She strikes me as the type who grows more silent as she grows more desperate.”

Corene met his eyes squarely and smiled. “Maybe so,” she said. “But I think you’re off on some of your calculations. Alette doesn’t spend her days with three eligible heirs—there are four, or don’t you remember? Surely you haven’t forgotten Steff?”

“Hey, I never did anything to Alette,” Steff said in alarm.

Garameno inclined his head in Corene’s direction. “My mistake. Of course I haven’t forgotten Steffanolo. I just thought it unlikely he had been here long enough to establish himself in Alette’s good graces.”

“Well, I haven’t been. I mean, I’m going to try to be her friend, but that’s
all
.”

“Don’t worry,” Garameno said softly, seeming to speak to Corene alone. “I don’t forget how many people are playing this game.”

She broke the stare, sighed, and leaned back against the seat cushions. “No,” she said. “I don’t suppose any of us do.”

Naturally, there was no going on to the white tower this day, and Corene suspected that her expedition to the Great Market with Liramelli would be postponed indefinitely. The minute they returned to the palace, Melissande disappeared with Alette, Greggorio headed to his quarters, and Garameno rolled off to find his aunt. Steff and Liramelli and Corene were left feeling odd and unsettled, and even the prospect of playing penta didn’t lift their spirits.

“Let’s go out to the gardens,” Liramelli suggested. That sounded as good as anything, so they did.

While the front of the palace was little more than stone and courtyard, the back was mostly vegetation. It was as if the architects who drew
up plans for the grounds couldn’t decide what sort of garden would be best, so they’d laid in every kind they could think of. There were the neat rows of vegetables and spices occupying a fenced area near the kitchen. There were multiple flower gardens all clustered together, each spilling over with its own particular color and variety of blossom. And on the far back edge of the lawn there was a hedge maze with high evergreen walls and twisting pathways that led to a secret heart.

Between the rain and the heat that had constituted Malinqua’s weather since she arrived, Corene hadn’t bothered spending much time outdoors. But as the ninedays marched through Quinnatorz, the temperature had become much more tolerable, and today’s weather was downright pleasant. Perfect for a garden stroll.

Liramelli led them straight to the hedge maze and said, “This has always been my favorite place on the palace grounds.”

Foley had followed them this far, but he glanced at Corene and said, “I’ll wait out here.”

She laughed. “Afraid you’ll get lost inside?”

He smiled back. “Afraid to have my movements restricted. Not much space for maneuvering.”

All she could think to say in reply to that was, “Oh.”
Fighting for my life
was never the first activity she considered whenever she was about to enter a new environment. Apparently it was always Foley’s.

Steff stepped into the maze right after Liramelli, but Corene, who was last, saw him glance back several times as if to find markers that would delineate his passage. “I don’t mind admitting that
I’m
a little afraid I’ll make it to the middle but never be able to find my way back,” he said.

“You could always break your way out through the bushes,” Corene said. “If you were that desperate.”