Some days later, Marie-Fey was frowning disapprovingly down at a letter Constantine had sent her about his latest scandal that had almost got his head blown off by a very annoyed fiancé, (Rosalia, lords save her from her own bullheadedness, had got in between the stand-off and everyone walked away no worse for wear). He had also sent her a gift.

A set of golf clubs.

He was explaining that she could take Zaydan's head off with them if there was no good course around, if he ever annoyed her enough. Her brother was ever on the ball for someone who only ever seemed to think with his hips. She had mentioned his name in passing in a letter.

Seeing as there was no well-placed golf course in the city or the endless expanse of surrounding sand, Constantine had given her a new mode of weaponry to use against Zaydan if the arrows grew boring.

Eyes on her made her look up.

She was lounging in one of the large communal rooms, rugs and huge cushions scattered across the floor, cushioned benches around the walls – where Marie-Fey sat. the design of the room allowed for a gentle, cool breeze to filter through as sunlight poured through the windows, books, games and cosmetics scattered around them.

Other women were in the room, enjoying each other's companies with soft voices and easy laughter. Despite her presence, the girls didn't seem unduly tense, which was new. They got on with their day, leaving her be, neither trying to bother her nor scrambling away.

She scanned the room to see who was watching her and Azeeza's dark eyes connected.

The girl jumped at being caught staring.

She was hovering in one of the arching doorways.

Around her were the three girls she shared a room with, passing her by without a thought as they trailed in, talking to each other.

Marie-Fey and Azeeza eyed each other for a moment, then Marie-Fey gave a single beckon and Azeeza walked over as Marie-Fey collected her papers into a neat pile.

When the girl was stopped in front of her, they stared at each other for a moment, before Marie-Fey said, "Talk."

"I want to go home," Azeeza replied.

"Don't we all?" Marie-Fey replied and moved on. "How have you found your first – what? – ten days?"

"They put me to work in the laundry," Azeeza spat, "They said my rank didn't mean anything here. I was told that by a whore-child who has nothing but the good luck of half-decent looks. Nothing compares to breeding and that thing doesn't have any, yet she dared hit me when I spoke back."

Marie-Fey raised an eyebrow at her, straightened.

"You have a backbone, that will do you well here," she said coolly, holding out a hand.

Azeeza looked at it for a moment, not trusting her, then placed her own in Marie-Fey's so she could examine the already-damaged skin on her palms.

"You will need to learn when and how to use that temper, however," Marie-Fey said calmly as she reached over to one of the cosmetics tables and picked up a jar of cream. "Building enemies is not what you need. You need to forge alliances. Friends mean everything."

"You don't have any friends," Azeeza sneered, possibly trying to hurt her but the strike fell short as Marie-Fey nodded, dipping a square of cloth in the cream and beginning to dap it onto the raw palm.

"You are correct, I don't. But I am also the highest-ranking person here – save Lord Zaydan. I did not have to rise through the ranks either. I came in second only to Lord Zaydan's mother. You do not have that luxury. If you anger the wrong person, being struck is only one outcome. You could be hurt far worse. Maybe you'll be starved. Or scarred. Sent away to serve as a slave to some monster. Or maybe damaged beyond repair. Have you ever been whipped?"

Azeeza's fingers went cold in her grip.

"They wouldn... but I'm—"

"You are Azeeza, low ranking lady of the palace," Marie-Fey said, looking at her, "You need to realise your new place. You weren't sent here to keep good relations between your family and mine. You weren't orphaned and brought here with nothing but a new start ahead. You are a token of gratitude to be used as desired, a toy. People in this palace care about others' rank because if someone is lower, they can be stepped on and used to rise higher. You need to learn where everyone stands and figure out who will help you stand higher."

Azeeza glowered at her for a long moment, before finally backing down and nodding silently and Marie-Fey lowered her attention back to her hand.

"Have you ever been struck here?" Azeeza muttered.

"I have."

"What did you do?"

"I struck back."

"Have you ever been starved?"

Marie-Fey kept her eyes down, watching her careful work. "Once, not here."

"What did you do?"

"I survived."

"Have you ever been whipped?"

Marie-Fey's lips thinned as she reached for Azeeza's second hand and started to apply the cream. "...Once, not here."

"...What did you do?"

"I managed to get my hands on my own whip and, again, struck back. I'll always give as good as I get."

"Did it hurt?"

"Yes, it did."

"Does it scar?"

"It was caught through clothing. The dress tore and my skin hurt, a lot. But it was nothing more than a welt that settled after a few days. I came off better than my attacker."

"Why?"

"Because I went for the face."

She finished attending her hands, looked at them for a moment before nodding and waving her.

"Now go away. If you want to keep your hands smooth, apply this cream. There's always jars around here." She snapped the lid back into place and set it aside, picking up her papers again.

Azeeza didn't go away and Marie-Fey ignored her.

"I heard you were poisoned," she said slowly.

Marie-Fey sent her a dismissive glance. "Someone tried to kill me, yes?"

"Aren't you scared?"

"I don't know why people ask me that."

"What if someone tries to kill you again?"

"I'm sure they will."

"But..."

"This is why you want friends over enemies, Azeeza," Marie-Fey said calmly, picking up a letter she hadn't yet opened.

"Yes but—"

"You have now outstayed your welcome and I want to read my post," Marie-Fey said and Azeeza flushed, anger flaring in her skin before she spun and stalked away, joining the triplets who had been watching. The girls huddled in the second she sat down, and concern filled their eyes as Azeeza spoke to them.

"You have a surprisingly tolerant side."

Marie-Fey sighed at the new voice, then kept her attention on her letter as Zaydan sat down beside her, a servant hurrying over with drinks.

"I have endless tolerance, I haven't shot you dead yet, have I?" Marie-Fey said coolly without looking at him as she broke the wax of the seal and pulled out the letter.

"True, but I'm sure the scar says enough."

"It won't scar," she said simply. Both their cuts were almost healed by now, nothing but slightly red lines along their cheeks. Another few days and it would be like they'd never been there at all.

Marie-Fey read through her letter as Zaydan leant back on one hand, sipping his drink.

It was from her friend, Sophia, back home. It was a long, detailed letter regarding her upcoming wedding and her fizzing excitement bubbled through the descriptions as she outlined the dresses, the dinner, the guests, the drama.

The letter contained an official invitation for the wedding. She had received another one months ago but perhaps Sophia feared she had forgotten or wouldn't be able to make it and sent a reminder.

"You're smiling."

Marie-Fey's smile vanished and she glared at Zaydan for ruining her moment.

He was just looking mildly perplexed.

"I have a full functioning range of muscles in my face, I can smile," she said coldly and folded her letter up.

"Yes but it was an actual smile with human emotions in it," he said, which earned him a hiss. "What was the letter?"

"One of my oldest friends is getting married in just under two months. I am returning home to attend the wedding."

"I'm going to assume you haven't asked my brother's permission to leave so soon after last time."

Marie-Fey gave him a look that suggested he was mentally a disappointment.

"I'll have you know, I have never asked his permission," she said bluntly, "I have just informed him."

A small smile ghosted passed Zaydan's face. "I know," he said, then reached across the took the heavy white card with golden edges, outlining dates and times.

His brow raised. "She invited your husband as well."

Marie-Fey's shoulders slumped for a split second before her back straightened again. "Yes, I know. She added it to be polite. She realises he won't come."

Zaydan looked at her for a moment, her sleek profile and impassive expression that didn't reveal anything.

"I'll ask him," he said and Marie-Fey looked at him. "I'll write to him tonight and tell him he's needed, if for nothing else than the sake of reputation. There's always going to be business to do back in your kingdom, if for no other reason, he can attend for that."

Marie-Fey looked blankly at him for a moment, then blinked. "Thank you," she said, like she wasn't used to the feel of the words.

He just gave her a smile. "I can't promise he'll show up but I'm sure I can liaise between you two. Have him meet you at the docks before you sail out. He just needs to appear once or twice so people know he exist. He can do that."

Marie-Fey raised her eyebrow at that. "Debatable but I'll take your word for it."

Zaydan gave her his same old charming smile and straightened. "That's not the reason I'm here however."

"You're here to make sure I don't keep over from a poisoning."

"That is the overall picture but in this exact moment I'm here to tell you your palace has been finished. I'm here to escort you to your true home."