Gudruny sighed, looking at them. “If clothes were armor, you would be defended against all your enemies,” she said. “And you’ve your wits, too—that’s something.”

“Splendid,” said Briar drily. “I now feel suitably armed for a swim in a tub of molasses.”

“She’s just being cautious—that’s Gudruny’s way,” Sandry told him. “And you do look fine.” She smoothed away a wrinkle in Tris’s overgown. “Definitely a match for all these Bags.”

Briar grinned at her use of slang. Bowing, he offered her his arm. “May I?” he asked gallantly. “At least, until one of those Bag boys tears you away from me?”

Sandry laughed. “There isn’t a man here who could do that for more than an hour.”

“Are you sure?” asked Briar, raising an eyebrow. “Nobody?”

Sandry blushed slightly, but said firmly, “Nobody.”

One of Sandry’s new footmen led them to the Moonlight Hall, where the party was being held. As they entered the room, Briar said, “Well, I mean to tear myself away from you a bit tonight. That Caidy just might get herself kissed, if she’s lucky.”

“And more if she’s unlucky?” Daja asked.

“No girl who draws my eye is ever unlucky,” Briar assured her solemnly. “How could she be?”

“It’s a good thing we know you’re not really this conceited, or we’d have to take you down a peg or twelve,” murmured Tris. “Shurri bless me, this room is packed.”

“Don’t run away too soon,” Sandry pleaded, looking over her shoulder at Tris. “I know you hate parties, but please stay with me. You can glare all the idiots away, since Briar’s leaving me forlorn on the sidelines.”

Though Tris consented to keep her company, Sandry did not remain on the sidelines for long. Fin was the first to claim a dance when the musicians began to play, followed by Jak, Ambros, and Quen.

After Quen handed Sandry off to Shan, he chose to sink into a chair beside Tris. “Hello, Red. You’d like Imperial Service,” Quen said abruptly, his eyes smiling at her. “Her Imperial Majesty understands the value of research.”

“Does everyone know she’s asked me?” Tris inquired. “Let me think about it!”

“Just Isha and I know. Very well, I won’t pester you. Do you know why Shan waited till now to ask Clehame Sandry to dance? Berenene left the room to attend to some reports.” When Tris glanced at the empty throne, then looked at him, Quen shrugged. “She wouldn’t be at all happy to see her current lover paying court to Sandry.”

Tris fingered one of her free braids. “So that’s how things stand,” she murmured.

“For now,” Quen replied. He reached out a long arm and snagged a glass of wine for himself and a cup of cherry juice for Tris. He handed her the juice, saying, “I noticed that you four are the kind of mages who don’t drink spirits. As for Shan—Berenene’s moods change. Her lovers change.”

“And I suppose you’ll tell her, to help her mood change?” Tris asked, sipping her juice.

Quen chuckled. “No. She doesn’t like tattletales, either.” He grimaced and drained his glass. “She really doesn’t like them. But she’s no fool. She’ll learn about Shan’s little game soon enough.” He handed his glass to another servant. “So tell me, what’s Niklaren Goldeye like outside a classroom? I took one of his courses when I was at Lightsbridge. Every day I came out of one of his lectures, I felt like my brain was overstuffed.”

Tris cackled with glee. “That’s Niko, all right,” she told him. “I thought my brain would explode for that first year.”

As Tris and Quen talked about Niko, and then Lightsbridge, Daja watched the dancing from a seat next to Rizu. Sooner or later all of the younger courtiers came to sit around them, leaving and returning to dance or to nibble and drink as servants loaded the tables at the far end of the silver-gilded room. Daja relaxed, feeling more comfortable in this gathering than she had expected to. She wasn’t hungry, and limited her drinking to the fruit juice that was served along with the wine.

Finally Rizu patted her face with a lace-edged handkerchief. “I am suffocating,” she whispered to Daja. “Let’s go cool off.”

Daja was happy to go. The room was full of people who danced and sweated, while the many candles that lit the room made it even hotter. Though heat didn’t bother her, she would welcome a breath of fresher air. She followed Rizu out, winding through clusters of courtiers, until they passed through one of the double doors to the terrace. There they leaned against a broad stone rail in the shadows. Daja lifted her heavy weight of beaded braids to let the cool night breeze flow across her neck.

“Are all the parties here so, so populated?” she asked Rizu.

Her companion laughed. “This is an intimate gathering,” she informed Daja. “Wait till two weeks from now, with the banquet and ball for the ambassador from Lairan. Then all the old nobility will totter in, and the people who don’t really approve of the way Her Imperial Majesty lives her life, though they do approve of the peace and prosperity she brings. And then there will be all the other ambassadors…” Her full mouth widened in a brilliant smile. “Except perhaps the Yanjing ambassador, who may be feeling ill by then.”

Daja smiled, briefly remembering Sandry’s first maneuver before the empress. At the same time, seeing the way the light struck Rizu’s curly lashes, casting their shadow over her eyes, she thought, She’s so beautiful. The question burst out of her before she realized it: “Why aren’t you dancing? You haven’t danced all night. And nobody’s asked you, even though you’re almost as beautiful as the empress.”