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It isn't my business, who killed the prince. It had naught to do with her, these games of royal intrigue. She was not interested in sneaking about to discover the murderer's identity. But Arya's report served Isla in another way. Presently she looked at the list in her hand, the countless names of known silver-servants in Kathedra.

In her haste of copying them from Arya's report, she had not paid much attention to the individual names. But now, in the relative quiet and boredom of Master Chendra's Intercontinental Trade lecture, Isla had all the time to mull over the results of last night's foolish run.

Haana's name was not amongst the hundreds listed.

So Haana had not been a known silver-servant, whatever that means. From Master Chendra's explanation of silver-servants, Isla gathered that not all of them were spies and assassins such as Haana had been. In fact, those were rare and the employment of one was generally shunned upon. It only made sense if whoever her master was, he would have kept Haana well hidden from the public eye.

Or perhaps Haana was Rajini Dhvani's silver-servant. Arya had said he kept his mistress's own servants off the list.

'... can you tell us why that is, Lilja?'

She jolted in her seat and flicked her book to the next page, furtively hiding her list.

Master Chendra tutted in clear irritation. Isla looked around at the other girls, hoping for a hint as to what his question had been. The ten of them sat around a wide, oval table with Master Chendra at their head. Tran mouthed something to Isla that she could not quite catch.

'Next time you attend my class, you had better bring your ears with you.'

Titters. And then Phrae's airy drawl, 'because of the Great Eye in the centre of the Great Ters Altum Sea. It has strong currents that can destroy entire fleets, even with the best marid or djinn pulling them.'

He had asked about oceanic voyage? That was not fair. Isla knew the answer to that question. Unlike Phrae, who pored over her books, Isla had actually experienced it herself.

'That's why vessels choose to sail around the Great Eye rather than through it, and that's what makes transaltum journeys longer than it should be.' Phrae finished with a smug grin towards Isla.

Even Rinju shows more maturity. She had never known anyone so starved for attention. Master Chendra did not mind. He congratulated Phrae on her answer and proceeded with his lecture. The table's surface had been painted with the Ters Altum and all four surrounding continents. Master Chendra placed miniature ships and spent the next half hour showing them the various sea routes and ports.

Needless to say, Isla was glad when the lesson was over. She was amongst the first to exit before Master Chendra waved her aside. 'You've been distracted much lately. Old and ignorant is not an attractive combination, Lilja. How do you ever plan on wooing a nobleman?'

'What makes you think that is what I wish for myself?'

'What then?' Master Chendra folded his arms. 'You seek a palatial position? Or taking the Civil Servants Examination? Those require a great deal more knowledge than a nobleman would ask of you.'

Isla drew in a deep breath. 'I knew the answer to your question.'

'Sometimes it's more beneficial to know the question.'

I've no time for riddles. She was already late as it was. Isla had promised to meet Prijsti at the kitchens. 'I have to help the kitchen servants with some offerings.'

'Ah.' Master Chendra nodded knowingly, walking her out. 'For the late Maharaj Kiaan, may Ogbu embrace him.'

Isla sighed in relief when they finally parted ways. Master Chendra was not as bad as she initially thought, but he was still a pawn in the royal game.

When she arrived at the kitchens, Prijsti met her by the entrance, four wicker baskets laid around her feet. 'They're heavier than they look,' said the older woman, reaching into one and pulling out a fat tabby. 'Especially if one of these rascals manage to crawl in.'

'I'm sorry I'm late.'

'Don't worry about it. You're the only one willing to help. Everyone avoids Rajini Dhvani's estates when they can.'

I don't fault them. She had dreamed of the rajini's face following her raid of the queen consort's residence. 'What is it that we're doing?'

'Just the traditional offerings to Ogbu. A gift upon every doorway, that he accepts the rajini's grief and refrains from entering her own home. Come. Her guards will be waiting.'

It was a long walk to the consortial estates. Isla's arms had tired by the time they entered through a trailing gate into the queenly gardens. It was the first time she saw the estates from its front entrance; a much different view than the dark impression she had from the woods of the White Asraam. The garden path alone was easy to walk upon, with perfectly trimmed hedges so high they could not glimpse beyond its walls.

'Our first offering is placed here.' Prijsti stopped before a wide gap in the hedge. She took an offering from her basket – a collection of petals and berries, arranged in a sun-dried coconut shell with a flat candle lodged in its centre – and placed it reverently on the ground.

Isla peered into the rajini's estates as Prijsti lit the candle. A garden devoid of colour, but for the most common of herbs and fruit trees. They were all laid out in rows. Like a farmer's plot.

'Not impressed?' Prijsti's smile was knowing.

'I imagined something more ... stately ... for a rajini.'

'If you want stately gardens, you'll want Rajini Amarin's estate.' Prijsti led the way into the colourless garden. The path was sharp and uneven under Isla's feet. 'She's fond of plants and animals. Hers is filled with exquisite things. People bring her gifts to add to her collection: flowers, fruits, creatures from around the world ...'

'What is Rajini Dhvani fond of?'

'Hard to tell. She takes her royal duties very seriously, and never misses her Day of Audience. People say she's just in her rulings. She has no time for gardens, other than to walk through them.'

'And what of the other rajini? What was her name –'

'Rajini Chei,' supplied Prijsti. 'Bit of a recluse. Stays in her own estates most of the time.'

'Then there's the Maha Rani. That makes all of Maha Rama Judhistir's wives.' For now.

'Yes, though only the Maha Rani and her children have the privilege of the Royal Residence, west of the palatial ring. Secure a position as a servant there, and you're set for life.'

'Do they get along well? His wives? It can't be easy.'

'Of course they get along well. It's their duty, you know. Here we are.'

The path veered around a dense row of ginger flower- and pandan bushes before revealing Rajini Dhvani's teakwood residence. Its stilts only went as high as the basil bushes lining the walls. Much less daunting under an afternoon sky, Isla considered. Though exactly as empty as the last time I visited.

Her eyes stayed upon the young man who waited by the top of the stairs, hands behind his back. Prijsti lowered her head, and only then Isla followed.

'You are late,' said Arya.

'That fault is mine. I was kept by my studies.'

Arya met her gaze. 'A dhayang? Very well. The ceremony must be completed before the sun sets, is that not correct?'

'Yes, my lord.'

'I am no lord. My name is Arya. The rajini's first and foremost silver-servant. You are not to leave my sight.'

Prijsti bowed again and proceeded to place her second offering by the foot of the stairs. Under Arya's constant observation, Isla could do nothing but adhere to the ceremony. They marked every entrance and doorway, but not a single chamber contained sinister devices as far as Isla's eyes could see. But it's too soon to strike Dhvani off the list. Perhaps I need to first investigate the others.

A draft entered the room behind a wall of curtains. The fabric shifted and revealed an archway, barred behind rusted grates. Prijsti stopped. 'We almost missed that one.'

They had been on their way out, only few coconut shells remained in Isla's basket. She approached the grate and placed an offering before the curtains. 'Are there any other entrances beyond the archway?' she asked once she had lit the candle.

'Yes, but those will not be necessary,' said Arya. 'The arch leads only to defunct tunnels. They have not been in use for generations, and might collapse under your heads.'

It seems that way. Even the grates were coated with webs, its hinges rusted shut. And the darkness smells of dust and mildew. 'But Ogbu's Eye might enter from the unblessed entrances beyond.'

'You are concerned for Her Honourable Consort.' Arya raised a brow. 'Very well. But you must only step where I step. The tunnels are riddled with ancient traps.'

'If my good master finds it unnecessary, we'll follow your advice,' said Prijsti as Arya fished his pockets for a ring of keys.

Arya stopped. 'I am not myself a religious man. Nor is Her Honourable Consort, Rajini Dhvani. She will find no issue should you miss a few entryways.'

'In that case, we won't take any more of your time, Elder Arya.'

The silver-servant nodded and escorted them out, much to Isla's disappointment. If anything's worth keeping a secret, it would be in those tunnels. Though Arya did not seem to be lying. 'I'm sorry to hear of Her Honourable Consort's loss,' she said to his back.

'As am I. The realm has lost a gentle soul.'

Three, actually. So soon were Maharaj Kiaan's son and wife forgotten.

'I take it you do not need escorting through the gardens.' Arya stopped upon the terrace. They bowed him farewell, uttered their thanks, and parted.

'That took longer than I thought,' said Isla as she and Prijsti emerged into the consortial gardens. Their first offering still burned bright between the hedges.

'Thank you again for helping.'

'Please. I'm only helping myself.' Isla shrugged. 'Whatever it takes to secure a position.'

'Wouldn't it be easier to find a nobleman?'

'Not unless you gouged out my eyes.' And ears. And entire brain.

'You and me both.' Prijsti smiled.

Isla wondered if she had been with any other man since Since Edric. Of course she has. Though they might not have worked the way she wanted. 'If there's any other work I can help you with before the Rising Year celebration ...'

'There's always work in the kitchens. Especially now that the whole palace is talking ... guests, they say, from across the Great Ters Altum.'

It's about time. Isla reflexively checked the skies, only to find a setting sun amidst a splatter of clouds.

'Is this what you meant?' Prijsti lowered her voice. They had left the privacy of the consortial estates, and now the path widened to accommodate more passing servants and palace guards. 'The other day ... when you said I'd be reunited soon with my son ...'

'I only know what Captain Stirling's told my father. Someone wants to see you, and the captain's given me the letters to pass on.'

Prijsti's eyes widened, her steps faltered. 'Do you think ... these guests ...'

'They could be.'

'But ... I don't know. They're to have a closed audience with the Maha Rama. He wants the best Surikh dishes prepared. He's even sent a messenger to inform everyone of his immediate return from the Water Palace. Surely, my son ... he couldn't be that important to anyone but his mother.'

'There's no use in speculating.' Isla gave Prijsti her empty wicker baskets. They had stopped before the bridge across the canal. 'But I can help you find out.'

'You would do that?'

Isla brushed off the reverence in Prijsti's voice. 'Like I said, I'm only helping myself. If you can get me into the closed audience, I have the chance to gain royal notice, and I'll be able to see who these guests are for you.'

The last thing Isla wanted was to be noticed by any member of the royal family, but pretending she was helping out of the goodness of her heart just stank of falsity. No one does anything without an ulterior motive.

'Yes. I think I can arrange that.' Prijsti nodded thoughtfully. 'Be at the kitchens tomorrow before noon-bells.'
                  

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