Dita could read.

Well, of course she could. Even the hawker women at the agora could read.

But it still killed Ba'an's mood to realize a servant who worked at a storehouse was better educated than she in Dolkoi'ri letters.

Nene and Calloe cooed over the flowers. "Oh, that's so thoughtful of kyrios, isn't it?"

These ones were a pale pink, and Ba'an suspected he had taken them from Gaios' garden—they looked more than a little familiar. Dita folded the note and tucked it back into the basket.

Lukios had sent them for her hair; he had noticed that the ones from that morning had already wilted. Ba'an concurred with his judgement: drooping flowers did not create the right sort of atmosphere for a celebratory dinner, and though Lukios had not said so—his note had been all sweetness and sunshine—it would only emphasize Ba'an's strangeness if she wore dead and dying flowers anywhere.

Ba'an picked one up, touching the soft, lush petals. They felt utterly luxurious, and Ba'an had never seen such large petals on a flower before. Such strains did not grow in the wild; these had been bred for beauty, not utility. She brought one up to her nose and breathed in.

The scent was soft, too. Soft, delicate, and light, but with something sensual beneath; it was a two-note scent, with the second being something only a lover would notice. A man would have to come much, much closer than appropriate to ever detect it, and Ba'an's skin tingled at the thought as memories of the first night in Kyros swam through her mind: Lukios' eyes, dark with desire as they fixed on her, and his hands, his mouth, the press of him against her as she urged him closer, closer…

Clearing her throat, she put the flower back into the basket, willing herself to calm.

The girls set to weaving Ba'an's damp, sweet-smelling hair, and Ba'an was secretly happy to have acquiesced; she could not have done half the things they had done in the time allotted alone. Even the braiding went faster, and unlike Aika, these girls were serious: they never stopped working as they chattered, and no one poked through her things to comment on how nice they were.

It was odd how Ba'an missed the strange girl who had so harassed her for the past three days, but Ba'an knew this was foolish: Aika could very well be the one who had gone through Ba'an's chest.

There was no way to know. Ba'an's door was not locked against servants, for they were the ones who changed the water and cleaned the rooms.

But her disappearance was highly suspicious, and now that Lukios had mentioned the possibility of a trap, Ba'an was leerier than ever.

Was that why Nikias had set this three girls on her? Because Aika had found the coat, but Nikias did not know what to make of it? But then why send Aika away? It was far too obvious a play, so why had he done it?

It did not make any sense.

Dita walked directly to Ba'an's clothes chest and opened it. Ba'an sighed; the girl did not believe in asking permission.

"Oooh!" Calloe was looking over Dita's shoulder. "That one! That one! It matches the flowers!" Dita reached in and drew out the long, flowing chiton.

"No, it's too dark." This was Nene, who was pinning the last errant strands of Ba'an's hair into place.

"But it's the only one that's close." Calloe had her heart set on the pale red, it seemed. Ba'an did not think it looked even close to pink.

"Nene's right." Dita's tone was decisive. "This would look ridiculous. Are you blind?"

Calloe made a face at the older girl's back. She met Ba'an's eyes and winked. "What do you think, kyria?"

Ba'an paused, choosing her words carefully. "It is best not to upstage the hostess, Calloe. Perhaps the white."

Calloe's mouth became a round little 'o' of realization. Ba'an did not particularly care about upstaging Arete, but red and pink together?

No, that was an abomination. It would strike the other guests blind.

"Exactly right, kyria," said Dita, and Ba'an held in her amusement. Did the girl know what she sounded like? "It would be best to go with the white chiton with a belt that is close in colour to the petals. Gold jewelry."

Well, it was not a bad suggestion.

Nene was nodding. "Yes, yes! Exactly what I was thinking. Don't you think so, kyria?"

And now Calloe was looking rather put out.

"Calloe? What do you think?" There was no reason to make her feel poorly over it. The girl blinked at Ba'an, then smiled.

"You are right about upstaging the hostess, kyria! It was wise of you to think of it. So I think the white is the next best bet."

Ba'an nodded. "The white, then, with gold jewelry. I do not have a pink sash, but there is something close over there…"

Disaster averted, they carried on.

When Lukios came to take her to dinner, Ba'an was surprised to find that he had the same flowers tied over the clasp of his toga—his white toga, which Ba'an suspected was new. His smile was very pleased when he saw the flowers in her hair. He gestured to his shoulder. "We match now, right?"

Ba'an felt her mouth twitch. Blond hair, white toga, and pink flowers? It should have been humorous, but instead she was touched; the colours suited Ba'an, not Lukios, but that was why he had chosen them. She reached out and put her hand on his forearm, and he drew her closer so her arm was tucked through the crook of his elbow. Dita didn't titter, but Nene and Calloe did.

"You make such a handsome pair!" This was Calloe, who seemed determined to say nice things; well, she had enjoyed the rock candy the most.

Lukios grinned. "Ah, flattery. It'll get you everywhere. I'm telling Niki to give you a raise."

The girl cackled, and Nene suddenly found there was wisdom in flattery, too, and they both kept up a rather competitive flow of compliments as they made their way down the halls.

Dita looked like she was just refraining from shoving both her friends out a convenient window, though she did have the presence of mind to keep a tight little smile plastered over her face. It was most amusing.

The mood dampened once they entered the dining room.

Ba'an could hear music as they stepped closer. The soft notes came together in a melody Ba'an did not recognize, but there was beauty in their strangeness; she had not known Dolkoi'ri music could be so sweet or gentle. This evening was cooler than the last, so Ba'an was grateful to eat indoors in a room with a fire; she could feel it and see it as she stepped through the doorway, just as she could now see the bard in the background, focused wholly on his craft. The room itself was opulent and gleaming, the walls made of mosaics and studded with sculptures. But this was not what had dampened the mood.

There were only three long couches, which was exactly the same arrangement at breakfast. Everyone else was already seated, and there were only two spots open.

On different couches.

Ba'an could not be certain who made the seating arrangements, but she had a fair guess. Gaios had been at the barracks all day, and the servants generally did what they were told. So really, it left only Arete and Leandros, but Leandros clearly couldn't care less than he already did.

Gaios sat at the head of the arrangement, as usual. The spot next to him was empty. Arete sat alone on her own couch, and Leandros and Nikias shared the last, conversing in low voices about…the price of wheat? Leandros' smile looked affixed and he appeared desperate for dinner to end before it began. Ba'an suspected this was not an area he was familiar with, and Nikias' little insights were only driving him deeper into his cups: he had the manner of a man determined to get very drunk, very quickly. Gaios was lounging with his head turned toward the two, occasionally interjecting to add some detail or another; whenever Leandros lifted the goblet to his lips, Gaios' expression darkened.

Arete was talking to the servants, gesturing here and there. She seemed to be dispensing last minute instructions.

The couches were arranged so they formed a rectangle with an open end. If Lukios was to be seated by Gaios, then Ba'an would be seated beside Arete, at the end closest to the serving staff.

She could not help wondering if there was a subtle message here. Seating was important to the K’Avaari. When seated in a circle, all were equals, but placing someone at the very end of a broken shape meant he or she was the least influential. Were the Dolkoi’ri the same? Or was Ba’an still thinking like a witch?

It was strange. Leandros would then be at the very end as well, but was he not Gaios' son?

Lukios' expression did not put her at ease, either. He, too, seemed to be taking exception to the seating arrangements.

"Lukios!" Arete sat up and clapped her hands, smiling. "Finally! The guest of honour."

Lukios only laughed his usual charming laugh. "All I did was survive, Arete, and that was thanks to Ba'an." He put his hand on her shoulder. "Really, the honour ought to go to Ba'an. I already got a whole banquet."

At this Nikias looked doubly amused, but Gaios did not react.

Well, it was true the first dinner had been for Lukios, despite his insistence otherwise. This was starting to feel familiar.

Arete's smile didn't falter. If anything, it got wider. "What a grand idea!" She turned to her father. "Papa! I didn't know lady Ba'an never got a dinner! It's only fair if she sits with you today, isn't it?" And then she beamed.

Gaios only raised an eyebrow and there was an awkward beat of silence. Arete's expression never wavered, and Gaios gave in. "If lady Ba'an is agreeable." He gave Ba'an his usual politician's smile. "I was remiss, it's true. If you would allow it?"

"I…"

And now the trap was clear. If Ba'an did not sit by Arete, Lukios would—it was the only spot left.

But it would be ill-mannered to refuse.

Clever.

Lukios was frowning. He opened his mouth, and Ba'an knew—she just knew—that he was going to say no, and when he did say no, there would be an entire sequence of events, starting with Leandros picking a fight and possibly ending with him bleeding out on the floor.

The consequences of that did not bear thinking of.

She cut in quickly before Lukios could speak.

"I would be honoured." Ba'an smiled, hoping it was not too stiff. Arete's smile grew ever sunnier, and Leandros snorted quietly into his wine cup. Nikias only looked at her with his usual mild and affable expression, but she could see it in his eyes: he had already seen it coming, and he was very entertained.

Well, of course he was. Why wouldn't he be entertained, the little stit-tat?

Lukios' head snapped around, eyes fixing on hers with smothered outrage: We agreed!

Hm, had he been planning to announce their engagement before dinner?

Ba'an shook her head, very slightly. His frown deepened, but she shook her head again. For a moment, she thought he would do as he wished regardless, but then his shoulders drooped as he spoke and she knew she had won.

"That's…generous of you." He smiled, and it looked shockingly real. "Thanks, Arete, strategos. Here, Ba'an. I'll help—"

Except there was no reason to do so, because the servants were already taking her by the hand and leading her to sit next to Gaios. The couch was large enough that no one had to stop lounging. It didn't even creak when she sat down, and she could barely feel the wood beneath the layers of cushions and fabrics.

Slowly, Lukios made his way to his seat. Leandros raised his goblet in a very sardonic little toast.

Arete clapped again. "Wonderful!" she exclaimed. "I'm so pleased to honour you today, lady Ba'an!" She raised her goblet in a toast. "To lady Ba'an!"

Ba'an continued smiling, though she noted that Arete had placed her hand on Lukios' arm. He subtly shrugged it off by picking up his goblet and holding it aloft. His ring winked in the light, and Ba'an saw Arete's eyes fix on it briefly before facing the room. Her artful smile never shook or faltered, and she appeared perfectly happy and perfectly coifed.

"Hear, hear!"

"To lady Ba'an!"

And now Ba'an was struck by a sense of deja-vu, because hadn't they already done this their first night here?

Nikias caught her eye and smiled, continuing to look very amused, and toasted her.

"Hurrah." Leandros sounded very bored, but he still raised his goblet. "For saving Lion-man." But his smile was somewhat less amused, and most certainly not celebratory. It said: Thanks for nothing.

Well.

At least that part was new.

Lukios was not pleased by how dinner was going. He was still smiling and talking like usual, and there was nothing in his manner to indicate any discomfort, but Ba’an simply knew. She could feel his discontent.

Ba’an’s own discontent rose every time Arete touched Lukios as she spoke.

Ba’an’s suspicions had been right. Arete was more than a little fond of Lukios still, and it had nothing to do with his family name. She could see it every time the woman turned her eyes on him. They sparkled. Her artful smile became less artful, less like a sculpture, and every time Lukios ignored her, Gaios' expression became increasingly fixed. Leandros drank more than he ate, and now everything he directed at Lukios held some kind of subtle barb.

Arete did not seem to like this, but Leandros did not care. Nikias interjected strategically to prevent Lukios' fist from befriending Leandros' face, but Ba'an was increasingly tempted to upend her wine goblet over the boy's—because that was clearly what he was, no matter how many summers he'd seen—head.

When Leandros made a comment that was overtly rude, rather than merely covertly rude, Gaios turned his head and looked at him, and that did more to rein the boy in than any of Nikias' clever replies. It was a pity that Gaios did not appear motivated to do more; if anything, he seemed eager for the dinner to be over quickly with minimal fuss.

If the deepening lines in his forehead were any indication, Leandros and Arete were in for a scolding once the evening closed. Gaios was not pleased by their behaviour, though his expression and tone were still temperate.

Lukios' expression and tone were somewhat less temperate, though he was trying. He did not react whenever Arete touched him. He only smiled and conversed with her in a friendly, if distant, way, though Ba'an noted he was much more polite than usual. He didn’t swear, for one thing, and he didn’t tell any jokes. None. He never touched her unless it was an accidental brush of their elbows.

It was all painfully one-sided, and everyone obviously knew it, even if they had somehow missed the ring that had suddenly appeared on his finger—which they hadn't.

Ba’an did not think Gaios had wanted Lukios to marry Arete strictly because he had been adopted. The man was a father, after all.

Ba'an, too, would have been displeased in his place because now, watching Arete's dogged, but fruitless, attempts at turning Lukios head, she thought it was all somewhat...cruel.

Judging by Leandros’s increasing agitation, this situation had been ongoing for some time now, and no one liked it. Ba'an didn't like it, either; it was painful and awkward. She was reminded of all the young men and women who had come to the shi-vuti in desperation when their object of adoration had spurned them. It was never pleasant to witness, though now that she was older, she could feel pangs of sympathy where before she had only felt a mild irritation.

Her sympathy was not enough to blunt her increasing ire, however.

Ba'an and Lukios were engaged. Arete had seen the rings. But she was still conducting herself as if she hadn't, and that was truly rude, no matter how the woman felt about it. It was.

She deliberately turned her attention away from the two to listen to the conversations flowing around her. It wasn’t anything too interesting, at least to Ba’an; the information seemed to be about who was doing what and when, and with whom. Society news. Ba’an did not know enough about Dolkoi’ri society to understand any of it, and she recognized none of the names. She was well and truly out of her element now, with dinner companions who were not concerned with including her, so all she could do was listen and attempt to glean some kind of sense from it all.

The least she could do was listen carefully and take note of anything that sounded important. She would ask Lukios about these things later. If Ba'an and Lukios did marry, she would…

Well, she would have to know it. Lukios had said that Synoros was its own little patch of land, away from everyone, but Ba'an did not think it wise to ignore the workings of the world; to her experience, the world had a way of reaching out, and it dragged a wide, merciless net.

Lukios had found his way to Ba'an, after all, and she had only been a grain of sand in the desert, buffeted this way and that by the wind.

A delicious smell wafted in. The next round came, pushed in on a cart. Ba'an tried not to look over-eager, but in truth she was starving. The first round had been some kind of dainty pastry, which had been more flakes than substance. Ba'an was more than ready to eat something that had more in it than pockets of air—very sweet-smelling air, yes, but still air.

Once the dishes were set down, Ba’an…

Stared.

What was this?

There were whole birds arranged in a complicated pattern at the center of the table. They were obviously dead, but they were posed as if they were still living with some kind of wire mesh, hidden in the feathers. They were somehow assembled so that some looked as though they were sitting or standing, while others looked like they were flying. Was this food, or was it some kind of perverse sculpture made of food?

There was a kind of soup as well, though the colour was green and there was no steam.

Surely it was a kind of soup. Or was it a sauce? What was this?

The bread, at least, was recognizable.

If it was bread. Ba’an half suspected it was something else carefully made to simply look like bread.

Lukios looked at the display, then at her. She saw a faint crease appear on his forehead, though he did not frown. He was too far away to be of any help. Ba’an smiled at him peacefully. There was no need to worry: if Ba’an could not figure out how to eat something, she would simply not eat it. At worst she would return to her room hungry, but she had jars of honey stuffed into her bags. Honey was food. She could eat that alone, if she could not sneak food from the kitchen.

For an instant, Gaios looked at the spread as though he was about to sigh, but the moment passed and his expression returned to being genial.

Ah. So this was excessive. Ba’an had thought so. The only question was, was this meant to impress Lukios or to shame Ba'an?

Very casually, Nikias said, “How was your shopping trip, lady Ba’an? Did you find everything you needed?”

Hm. Small talk from Nikias? Unlikely. Clearly, he was up to something.

“It went well. I found some very nice things at Eikolus' stand. Thank you."

“Oh?”

“Yes." She wasn’t about to tell him of all people that she had found a distillation kit. “There was some pottery. Some powdered cures. There was an entire crate of koiri as well—from Bala-Vulta. That was most impressive.”

“How lucky. I believe there is a Sander saying which goes,” he transitioned naturally into K’Avaari, “Don’t eat the meat, just the tongues. Use the small fork to your left. The smallest one. The sauce is for the tongues. Everyone will go around once, then again.”

Ah ha.

Lukios valiantly refrained from choking on his wine.

“Hm,” replied Ba’an in Dolkoi'ri. “That is true. We do say that. Sometimes we are simply lucky that way."