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“What are they like as potential heirs or potential husbands?” Melissande asked.

Corene grinned. “Either, I suppose.”

“Each one has a—trait—that might be considered a drawback in a monarch, but that I personally would find an advantage in a mate. Though not all women would think as I do, I am very sure.”

“Oh, this ought to be interesting.”

When Melissande smiled,
wicked
was the word that came to Corene’s mind. “The oldest is Garameno. He is thirty-two or thirty-three, I think, the smartest of all of them, very ambitious. He sits on the council and stays informed about everything that happens in Malinqua. Filomara seems to value his advice.”

“So what’s his disadvantage?”

“He was injured ten or twelve years ago and his legs never fully recovered, so he must use a wheeled chair to get around. He can walk for a few steps at a time, they say, though I have never seen him attempt it.”

“So his subjects might perceive him as weak because he could not lead them to battle, for instance,” Corene said.

“That is what seems to worry Filomara,” Melissande said. “I cannot tell how he is regarded by the prefect and other council members. I have only been here in Palminera for a nineday and a half.”

Corene studied the other woman for a moment. Melissande was being surprisingly candid and helpfully informative, but there was no way to know if she was being truthful. She might have an ulterior motive for sharing her insights in such an open way; she might be lying; she might be trying to enmesh Corene in her own machinations. She was such a charming package that Corene imagined most people were delighted to be singled out for her confidences. The trick was figuring out what she might want in return.

“I can see why some women might think a wheelchair would be a liability in a husband,” Corene said. “Why do you consider it an advantage?”

Melissande laughed. “Because the idea of being stronger than my husband very much appeals to me!” She lifted her bare arms above her
head. “Look at me! I am so very delicate! I would be wholly at the mercy of a brutish man. But I believe I could outrun Garameno in his chair.”

Corene spared a moment to think Melissande would probably find ways to outmaneuver a brutish husband as well, but she didn’t say so. “Well, that’s a good point,” she said. “So, what about the other two?”

“Jiramondi—”

“Why do they have such
names
?” Corene burst out. “Filomara and Bartolo and Jiramondi—these soft, beautiful names when
none
of them, as far as I can tell, are soft or beautiful. When their clothing is plain and their houses are plain and they make a point of telling you they are not ostentatious people—”

“No, it is quite ironic,” Melissande agreed. “And they seem to be quite unaware of the irony, which makes it even more annoying. And yet, those are their names. After a while you get used to it.”

“So. Jiramondi—”

“The middle nephew. The most sophisticated of the three. Not as smart as Garameno, but not stupid, either. He is most often the one who deals with foreign ambassadors as he has more tact than almost anyone else in court.”

“And his liability?”

Melissande seemed to debate. “I do not know how this is viewed in Welce, but in Malinqua it is considered quite a disgrace when a man or a woman is—I do not know your word for it. In Coziquela we call them
sublime
.”

Corene was wholly at a loss. “I don’t know what you’re trying to say.”

“I suppose I must be cruder. When a man wants sex only with another man, or a woman with another woman. What do you call such people in Welchin?”

Corene shrugged. “We don’t have a word.”

“
Really?
No one comments and no one cares?”

Corene shrugged again. “There are comments, I suppose—like there are comments anytime someone picks someone out. ‘Why’d she choose
him
?’ ‘She looks like she’d be cold in bed.’ ‘Wouldn’t want to live in
that
household.’ But I never heard—it’s just—why would anybody care?”

Melissande was smiling. “To think everyone in Malinqua considers
Welce such a backward little country! But that is very progressive, don’t you think?”

Corene decided to let the insult pass. “So, Jiramondi is—what did you call him? ‘Sublime’? And this offends Filomara and the people of her country?”

“Yes, and here we have more irony!” Melissande exclaimed. “Because Filomara never had much use for her husband, so I would not have been surprised to learn she was sublime as well—and sadly could never take the opportunity to show her true self.”

“Maybe,” Corene said. “But I’m not sure she would have loved a wife any better than a husband. I’m not sure she would have loved anybody.” Filomara might have adored her daughters, but maybe not; she’d sent Steff’s mother off to Berringey knowing full well that the girl’s life could be forfeit. Even Corene’s own mother wouldn’t have been that callous.

Probably.

“You are doubtless correct,” Melissande agreed. “And yet, Jiramondi labors under a stigma that might prevent him from taking the throne.”

“And if he
is
sublime—well, I can see where most women would consider that a drawback in a husband,” Corene said. “But you don’t?”

That wicked smile again. “I am the most cosmopolitan of women! I am not shocked when people tell tales of taking lovers or experimenting in the bedroom. I have always thought it would be utterly tedious to be married to one man for eternity. But a sublime man who does not wish to sleep with me himself? And who is grateful that I make no demands on him? How is that not ideal?”

Corene burst out laughing. “Ideal if he doesn’t mind that you take other lovers,” Corene said. “And if he isn’t worried about siring his own heirs.”

Melissande was smiling. “If the rumors about Welce are true,” she said, “your old king did not worry about that so very much, either.”

Corene gave a small sigh and leaned back against her settee. “Oh, they’re true. Vernon certainly had help producing his own daughters.” She gave Melissande an inquiring look. “But I understand that in Malinqua they have techniques they use to test the blood—to make sure that an heir is legitimate?”

“They do? Well, then, I am certain a cautious woman could make sure not to conceive outside of the marriage bed. And a determined one could convince her sublime husband to get her with child at least once. Those seem like very minor obstacles to me.”

“I can hardly wait to hear about the third nephew.”

“Greggorio. The youngest, though his father was the oldest. He is very well-liked and very good-looking. He also is
very
interested in women, though he is quite young still, only eighteen, I believe. From what I have observed, he is a favorite with the prefect and other members of court.”

“But?”

Melissande spoke slowly, consideringly. “But he is not very intelligent, which sometimes makes him stubborn and sometimes means he cannot grasp—subtlety.”

Corene raised her eyebrows. “I can hardly wait to see how you turn this liability into an advantage.”

Melissande laughed. “A stupid man who likes women is easily controlled by a beautiful, clever wife. I think we would suit very well.”

Corene took a deep breath. “So! These three are the only contenders for Filomara’s crown?”

She asked the question to see if Melissande had an inkling of Steff’s existence, but she was surprised at Melissande’s answer.

“No, there is a faction that will only be happy if Liramelli is named Filomara’s heir.”

“Who?”

“The daughter of the prefect. Apparently, there are some who feel the prefect’s line has a better claim to the throne.”

“That’s who Filomara married,” Corene said. “Someone from the prefect’s family.”

“Yes! You have been studying your Malinquese history, I see. If I understand correctly, Liramelli is the great-niece of Filomara’s husband.”

“And what are
her
defects and advantages?”

“Well, her chief disadvantage is that she would not want to marry either of
us
, given the way the Malinquese treat their sublime!” Melissande replied, bubbling with laughter.

“Aside from that.”

“She has no disqualifiers. She is sincere and intelligent and kind—really, her list of virtues goes on and on. She is not particularly beautiful—though I think if they would give her to me for just an afternoon I could do
something
to make her fashionable. She would make a most excellent empress, I think—but Malinqua is not the sort of country that would be happy to see a woman follow another woman to the throne.”

“Then that’s the biggest disadvantage of all.”

“Yes—but if she marries one of the nephews they would form a very powerful alliance. So she is the one I would consider our main rival.”

“Who are the other bridal candidates?” Corene asked. “You mentioned a girl from Dhonsho. What’s she like?”

“Alette? Who can tell? She will not speak. Seriously, I do not believe she has uttered a syllable in my hearing. I think all three of Filomara’s nephews have given up any notion of trying to charm her.”

“She would not seem to be a serious contender, then.”

“Ah, but Malinqua and Dhonsho have skirmished for years over some disputed border.” Melissande waved a hand toward the window, as if Corene could spot that boundary from there. “A marriage might end all hostilities, who knows? So Alette might be Filomara’s favorite.”

“Well,” said Corene. “We cannot
all
be crowned. So, then, will we be enemies? You and I and the others?”

Melissande shrugged. “To be entirely honest, I am not so sure I would like to live in Malinqua the rest of my life. I am playing this very amusing game, trying to guess who will catch Filomara’s attention and seeing if I can make him choose me as his bride—but it is no more than a game to me. I would rather go home to Cozique when all this is over.”

“Why did you agree to come here in the first place?”

Melissande appeared to debate her answer. “My mother thought it would be a good idea for me to be somewhere other than Cozique for a quintile or two.”

Corene couldn’t help smiling. “A scandal, then.”

“A very small one. Though my mother did not see it that way.”

“If you don’t marry here, will she take you back?”

There was the briefest pause before Melissande laughed and said airily, “Oh, I am sure she would! I could go home at any time.”

Corene had the sense that Melissande was lying, but she merely nodded and said, “So the stakes aren’t as high for you as they could be.”

“No. How high are they for you?”

It was the first direct question Melissande had posed, and she asked it so lightly that it would be easy to think she didn’t care about the answer. But Corene was pretty sure the other girl was burning with curiosity.

She didn’t have anything to hide, so she answered honestly. “As high as I want them to be, I think,” she said. “I was raised knowing I might very well take the throne, so it’s been something of a shock to be pushed out of the running. I like the idea of being empress in Malinqua—though not if I don’t like Malinqua.”

“And you? Could you go home?”

“I could,” she said. “I don’t know that I want to.”
No one would prevent me from returning, but maybe they’re just as glad that I’m gone.

“And how did your parents present to you this grand opportunity of sailing away to a foreign court to try to win favor with its heirs?”

Corene laughed soundlessly. “Filomara told my father she wanted a blood alliance, and he flatly refused to let me go. So I stowed away on her ship without his permission.”

Melissande sat up in her chair, practically bouncing with excitement. “A runaway princess! Oh, that is so much better than an obedient daughter! Your mother? Was she also reluctant to see you go?”

For the life of her, Corene couldn’t prevent her bitter expression. “My mother—is only interested in what advantage I can bring to her. I assume she was delighted to hear what I’d done.” She lifted her eyes to meet Melissande’s. “My parents are not married, you understand. My father was an advisor to the old king, and my mother was one of the queens who needed help to conceive. Now that Vernon is dead, my father has been chosen to be the next king, and he is already siring his own line of heirs. He has a new wife and a new daughter, and everyone loves them all.”

“Ah,” Melissande said. She nodded, clearly familiar enough with court dynamics to fill in all the details to that story. “Yes. I, too, would have run away at the first opportunity! What woman of spirit would not?”

That made Corene grin, banishing the bitterness. “Exactly! So there are the two of us—”

“The rebellious ones,” Melissande supplied.

“There is also the silent but valuable Alette, and the well-behaved, well-liked Liramelli. Very clear choices for the nephews, I would imagine. Is there anyone else who might be competing with us?”

“Any of the high-born women of Malinqua would be suitable brides, so in theory the possibilities are infinite,” Melissande replied. “Until recently, Sarona was considered a top contender to marry Greggorio, but lucky for us, she is gone now.”

“Gone where?”

Melissande spread her hands. “I cannot be certain! Some people say she ran away with a lover because she did not really care about Greggorio and she could not bear to pretend any longer. Some people believe Filomara paid her parents to send her away because she wasn’t good enough to be a royal bride. It is most mysterious.”

Melissande spoke lightly, but Corene felt an uneasy chill gather between her shoulder blades. “Mysterious indeed,” Corene said slowly. “Girls from well-connected families don’t usually just vanish overnight.”

For a moment, Melissande’s expression was deadly serious; in that instant, Corene read on her face stark knowledge about all the ways and all the reasons a young woman might disappear from court. “They do not,” she agreed.

“Should we worry that someone might find
us
unsuitable candidates for the Malinquese throne?” Corene asked bluntly.