“We have no reason to suspect me of being magical,” Cassia protested. “We know now that Skleros didn’t give me apprentice’s toddy because of a mystery affinity, and we can lay our fears to rest that it related to some displacement he was planning. It was simply the only concoction available to him that would get me out of his way.”

“I have laid no fears to rest where the necromancer is concerned,” Lio said, “but regardless of Skleros’s motives, you may have magic that never had an opportunity to manifest in Tenebra.”

“I’d sooner have a gift for Hesperine language,” Cassia confessed, “than all the affinities in the world.”

“Mundane aptitudes often presage associated undiscovered affinities,” Lio enthused.

“Tulips don’t grow among the hedge nettle,” Cassia said, “and I’ve always been happy to be a hedge nettle. Now I’d best take my prickles back into the ballroom. I owe you a dance.”

“We aren’t done with this topic,” Kia said.

“Is that a threat?” Cassia teased.

“Oh, yes.” Kia winked. “I’m determined to experiment on you. We will poke your magic until it gets annoyed and growls back at us.”

“Your fingers will get tired, and I shall get very bruised,” Cassia predicted.

“We’ll nurture your sleeping tulips till they bloom,” Lio amended.

“That sounds like something you don’t need me for,” Kia said.

Cassia wondered when she would run out of blood to blush with.

They all left the practice room together. Cassia couldn’t help glancing up and down the hall, although she probably had six layers of veils around her.

Nodora touched a hand to Cassia’s arm. “Wait here.”

The musician disappeared. Moments passed in silence, and the Hesperines did not look surprised.

Then Nodora reappeared with Epodos in tow. His Grace hung stiffly on his arm, clearly wishing she were elsewhere. Baltasar stood behind them, a silent barricade to retreat.

“Cassia,” said Nodora, “if you would be so generous as to spare my brother a moment of your time, he is here to tender his apologies.”

Epodos wouldn’t meet Cassia’s eyes. “Which one of you was indelicate enough to repeat my conversation to your friend?”

Cassia must face him without a liegehound for intimidation. She lowered her hand, and Knight sat. She held her chin high and stepped forward to stand beside Nodora. Cassia opened her mouth to speak in Vulgus, but a fit of daring overtook her, and the words she needed came to her.

“I understood you,” she said in Divine.

That made Epodos look at her. His startled expression was thoroughly gratifying. His Grace’s eyes widened. Baltasar covered his face with one hand.

Cassia rubbed it in using the poet’s own instrument, his beloved Divine. “In the three weeks since my arrival, I have picked up quite a bit of Divine. Oh, and I’ve known how to read lips since I was a child. It turns out Hesperines are just as easy to understand as mortals.”

Epodos stood stiffly and smoothed the end of one of his braids. “I see. I did not realize a veil would have been in order.”

Nodora threw up a hand at him. “Lack of discretion is not what you should apologize for!”

“Epodos?” Konstantina entered the hallway from the ballroom. When she saw Cassia, Lio, and their friends, she halted.

“Good moon, Second Princess,” Cassia greeted her in Divine.

Konstantina raised her eyebrows. Then she smiled. “I did warn you, Epodos.”

Seeing that smile, Cassia suddenly had the context for Konstantina’s earlier remarks to Epodos.You underestimate her…we have a responsibility…elders of character…Konstantina had not been laughing behind her hand. She had been defending Cassia—and encouraging her Trial brother to be his better self.

For an instant, Cassia met Konstantina’s gaze and saw approval there. Cassia looked away quickly. She had already refused the Second Princess’s alliance and approval. She must best Epodos on her own. She tried not to appreciate how Konstantina stood back and let her do just that.

“I’m sure Lady Cassia can forgive a little courtly banter,” Epodos wheedled, “which she has heard often enough in her father’s house.”