“Go!” Rojer barked, waving his hand. He didn’t even make eye contact. Amanvah’s brows met in a harsh V, and she spat something in Krasian at Leesha before she stormed off with Sikvah on her heels. Leesha memorized the words, filing the curse for future reference.

Abban laughed. “It’s no wonder the Damajah fears you.”

“She doesn’t seem afraid now,” Leesha remarked. “Bold as brass, trying to kill me in broad day.”

“After Ahmann’s last decree, it is little surprise,” Abban said. “But take heart, they do you great honor. In Krasia, if no one is trying to kill you, it is because you are not worth killing.”

“Maybe it’s time to leave,” Rojer suggested, when Abban left. “If they’ll even let us.” He could not deny he had been tempted by Amanvah and Sikvah, but now all he could imagine was knives hidden under the soft silk pillows of their chambers.

“Ahmann would let us go if I asked him to,” Leesha said, “but I’m not going anywhere.”

“Leesha, they tried to kill you!” Rojer said.

“Inevera tried, and failed,” Leesha said. “Running off now would be just as good for her as if I’d died. I refuse to be driven off by that…that…”

“Witch?” Rojer supplied.

“Witch,” Leesha agreed. “She’s got too much power over Ahmann as it is. I’m not giving up his ear without a fight.”

“Are you sure it’s his ear you’re after?” Rojer asked. Leesha glared at him, but he met her gaze coolly. “I’m not blind, Leesha,” he said. “I see how you look at him. Not like a Krasian wife, perhaps, but not like a friend, either.”

“How I feel about him is irrelevant,” Leesha said. “I have no intention of becoming part of his harem. Did you know Kaji had a thousand wives?”

“Poor bastard,” Rojer agreed. “Reckon one is more than enough for most men to handle.”

Leesha snorted. “You’d do well to remember that yourself. Besides, Abban and Ahmann both know Arlen, and both claim to be his friend.”

“That’s not what he told us,” Rojer said. “About Jardir, anyway.”

“I know,” Leesha said. “And I want to learn the truth.”

“What about Amanvah and Sikvah?” Rojer asked. “Do we send them away?”

“So they can kill Sikvah for lying about her virginity and failing to kill me?” Leesha asked. “Not a chance. We took responsibility for her.”

“That was before she tried to kill you,” Rojer said.

“See the light, Rojer,” Leesha said. “If I told Wonda to put an arrow in Inevera’s eye, I have no doubt she would do it, but the crime would be mine. Better we have them here where we can watch them and perhaps learn something useful.”

It was deep in the night when Leesha awoke to the sound of shouting. There was a pounding at her door, and she lit a lamp and she pulled on a robe of Krasian silk that Jardir had sent to her. It was cool and deliciously smooth against her skin.

She opened her door to see Rojer standing there, looking haggard. “It’s Amanvah,” he said. “I can hear her wailing in her chambers, but Sikvah won’t even open the doors.”

“I knew it,” Leesha muttered, cinching her robe tighter and tying on her pocketed apron. “All right,” she said with a sigh. “Let’s go see to her.”

They went down into Rojer’s wing, and Leesha pounded on the door to the chambers the two Krasian girls had claimed. She could hear Amanvah’s muffled wails through the door, and Sikvah shouted in Krasian for them to go away.

Leesha frowned. “Rojer,” she said loudly, “run and fetch Gared. If this door isn’t open by the time you get back, have him break it down.” Rojer nodded and ran off.

As expected, the door cracked open a moment later, and a terrified Sikvah peeked out. “Everything sunny,” she said, but Leesha shoved past her into the room, following Amanvah’s voice toward the privy chamber at the back of the room. Sikvah shrieked and tried to interpose herself, but again Leesha ignored her and tried the door. It was locked.

“Where is the key?” she demanded. Sikvah ignored her, babbling in Krasian, but Leesha had had enough. She slapped the girl hard on the cheek, the crack echoing through the room.

“Stop pretending you don’t understand me!” she snapped. “I’m not an idiot. You say one more word in Krasian and the Damajah’s anger will be the least of your worries.”

Sikvah did not reply, but the terrified look on her face made it clear she had understood.

“Where. Is. The. Key?” Leesha asked again, biting off each word with a show of teeth. Sikvah quickly reached into her robes, producing it.

Leesha was through the door in an instant. The richly appointed privy stank of waste and vomit, only made worse by the jasmine burning in the incense brazier, a sickly combination that would have made most anyone heave. Leesha ignored the stench, going straight to Amanvah, lying on the floor next to the commode, wailing and moaning. Her hood and veils were cast aside, and her olive skin seemed almost white.

“She’s dehydrated,” Leesha said. “Bring a pitcher of cold water and set a kettle on the fire.” Sikvah ran off, and Leesha continued to inspect the girl, as well as the contents of the commode. Finally, she sniffed at the cup on the vanity table, tasting the residue.

“You brewed this poorly,” she told Amanvah. “You could have used a third as much fleshroot and still safely counteracted the blackleaf.” The young dama’ting said nothing, staring blankly as she labored for breath, but Leesha knew she heard and understood every word.

She took a mortar and pestle from her apron, hands darting from pocket to pocket without so much as a glance as she filled it with the proper mixture of herbs. Sikvah brought the hot water, and Leesha brewed a second potion, bidding Sikvah to hold her mistress up as she forced it down the girl’s throat.

“Open the windows to blow in some fresh air,” Leesha told Sikvah, “and bring pillows. She’ll need to stay by the commode for the next few hours as we hydrate her.”

Rojer and Gared stuck their heads in, and Leesha promptly sent them to bed. She and Sikvah tended Amanvah until her insides calmed and they could carry her to the bed.

“Sleep’s the best thing for you now,” Leesha said, putting another potion to Amanvah’s lips. “You’ll wake in twelve hours and then we’ll try to get some rice and bread into you.”

“Why are you doing this?” Amanvah whispered, her accent thick like her mother’s, but every word clear. “My mother would not be so kind to one who tried to poison her.”

“Nor would mine, but we are not our mothers, Amanvah,” Leesha said.

Amanvah smiled. “When next I face her, I may wish the poison had killed me.”

Leesha shook her head. “You’re under my roof now. No one is going to do anything to you, including forcing you to marry Rojer if you don’t want to.”

“Oh, but we do, mistress,” Sikvah said. “The handsome son of Jessum is touched by Everam. First and second wives to such a man, what more could any woman aspire to?”

Leesha opened her mouth to reply, then promptly closed it again, knowing any answer she gave would fall upon uncomprehending ears.

Elona was sitting in the hall when Leesha finally emerged from Amanvah’s chambers. Leesha sighed, wanting nothing more than to crawl into her bed herself, but Elona stood and moved to walk with her back to the stairs.

“It true what Rojer says?” Elona asked. “The girls tried to poison you?”

Leesha nodded.

Elona smiled. “Means Inevera thinks you’ve got a good chance of stealing him from her.”

“I’m fine, if you care,” Leesha said.

“Course you are,” Elona said. “You’re my daughter, like or not. Ent no desert witch going to stop you once you’ve got a shine for a man.”

“I don’t want to steal another woman’s husband, Mother,” Leesha said.

Elona laughed. “Then why are you here?”

“To try and stop a war,” Leesha said flatly.

“And if the cost of stopping a war is stealing the husband of a woman who tried to murder you?” Elona asked. “Is that too high a price to pay?” She snorted. “Ent stealing, anyways. These women share husbands like hens share roosters.”