The carriage lurched as it rounded a tight corner, and Tahni nearly fell off her seat. With a startled curse, she grabbed hold of the windowsill and swiveled back onto the narrow bench. For her part, Ederra braced her elbow against one wall, ignoring the cushions that slid from her bench to bounce against Tahni's shins. This ride was the farthest thing from smooth Ederra had ever experienced, but she would not let herself be distracted from the task at hand.

"Bow, hold for five seconds, shuffle, bow, hold for three seconds... Channa, but this is ridiculous!"

Tahni kicked at the fallen pillows, but she almost lost balance again, so she settled back against the wall, muttering under her breath. After a long moment, she spoke out loud.

"The North-Eastern gate is five minutes away. Are you sure you'll be done with those?"

Ederra didn't raise her eyes from her work, but replied in as calm a tone as she could muster.

"I didn't know you lived so close to the palace. Uncle said your father was a high-ranking official, but I must have underestimated what that meant."

"Not all ministers and councilors stay this close. Some live across the city, others have estates on the outskirts or even in the countryside. But most of those are ancestral homes. Father's a first generation noble, so he only got our house some forty years ago."

"After he distinguished himself on the battlefield?"

"Hardly!" snorted Tahni. "Father couldn't raise a sword even when he was young. No, he was in logistics, came up with good strategies and solid plans. He helped win a few crucial battles for the old king."

"This one's father?"

"No, his grandfather." Tahni sighed, tapping her finger against her chin and glancing blankly out the window. "I guess I'll have to get used to calling his son the old king now, but he's dead too. The old, old king died before I was even born."

Beads of sweat slid down Ederra's forehead, but she pressed on trying to keep Tahni distracted while she struggled to finish her task. She could not let the other woman see how close to panic she was.

"And what were these kings called?" she inquired, feigning real interest. "I always mixed the names up."

Tahni laughed.

"I refuse to believe your memory is any worse than your handiwork. But, if you insist, the old, old king was Essar Mektam - that's mainland dialect for "Conqueror". During his time, my father was appointed Second General and granted the title and estate. After Essar came Jurhem III, no epithet. My father served as general and councilor under him, and seven years ago, he was appointed War Minister. Then Jurhem died and his son Eker was crowned, though he'll need a queen to be fully legitimized."

Sensing Tahni's trepidation at the return of the dreaded subject, Ederra searched frantically for another avenue of escape. She was getting distracted herself, and in haste managed to prick her thumb. She squeezed hard so she wouldn't risk any stains, and asked the first question that came to mind.

"What happened with Jurhem's first son? I heard Eker wasn't the original Crown Prince."

"No, and that's what everybody would like to know. His name was also Essar, and he simply vanished days after his father's funeral. The coronation could not be postponed even when they failed to find him, and so the next in line was dredged up. They say Eker wasn't pleased at all."

"Of course he wasn't," muttered Ederra, almost throwing herself sideways to avoid the worst aftershocks of a violent pothole. "That's all the responsibility and almost none of the fun. Tell me, will your father's place be safe with him?"

"I don't see why not. He's served well so far, he's got his own allies at court, and a War Minister is always needed, no matter that we're not having any wars at the moment."

"Is this why your mother married your father? Because of his title?"

Ederra could feel Tahni's stare borrowing under her skin. She supposed she might have made a better effort at subtlety, but she couldn't afford to break focus.

"Actually," began Tahni hesitantly, and Ederra was surprised she was going to get an answer at all, "that was father's one and only scandal. Mother was engaged to his nephew, but he was plain awful, and father knew this. When mother pleaded with him to marry her himself, he couldn't refuse. I think by that time, he'd begun liking her too. I'm pretty sure what my parents have is love, though not the passionate kind. They've always looked so comfortable together."

"So they were happy, but I suppose the nephew was not."

"Absolutely furious. Went over to the Jebrils."

That last name had sounded almost spat out, and curiosity gnawed at Ederra. However, she wouldn't be able to satisfy it just yet, as she felt the carriage slowing down.

"Done!" she announced proudly, holding out the overcoat for inspection.

"You're a magician," marveled Tahni.

Ederra shrugged. Her thumb pulsed dully and all her other digits ached from fatigue, but she was pleased with the result. Anyone who looked at Tahni's garb wouldn't be able to make out the small, but crucial alterations all along the overcoat's sleeves. All morning, instead of making her memorize the candidate's ceremonial prayers, she'd taught her the simplified alphabet used in Ederra's home region. Fortunately, Tahni had taken to it much faster than expected.

"Sorry to make you do all this work. I could have just mouthed the words and followed the others."

"Whatever you do, don't follow the others," urged Ederra. "If you forget a step, or make a mistake, keep on doing your own thing, but do it confidently."

"Oh, don't worry," said Tahni, cracking a smile. "I'm an old hand at failing confidently."

The carriage came to a standstill and Ederra busied herself with the final fastenings on Tahni's shoulders.

"Any last piece of advice?"

Ederra ducked her face to cover her wince at Tahni's wobbly voice. She reasoned the young woman couldn't help but be nervous, and Ederra's own heart was beating to break out of her chest. Still, she rallied, and raised her eyes to glance directly at Tahni, managing a level look and steady voice.

"Try not to make yourself stand out. They'll see you as a weak candidate and ignore you at first. You just need to hold off long enough to gather what you need and then..."

She trailed off, suddenly confronted with her own prospects. Tahni would leave, the queen would be someone other than Ederra, her uncle would still want his trade deal, and Meyo would expect to get a bride. The smallest seed of hope was then planted in her mind, and she entertained the possibility of sailing away as well. It might just work.

Realizing she was drifting away, Ederra shook herself. That would come then, but this was now, and demanding immediate attention. She stood back in her seat to assess Tahni's appearance.

She looked like she was bound for her own beheading. Pale skin, pressed lips, tight eyes, and small muscles twitching in her jaw hardly screamed "royal candidate". But the clothes told a different story. The overcoat was tightly fitted around the waist, with large, billowing sleeves embroidered with complex golden patterns, some of which Ederra hoped were readable. The dress itself was a straight cut of unadorned azure, the same color as the overcoat, which brought out Tahni's dark brown hair and blue eyes. Reminiscent of the older style, Ederra suspected the outfit had belonged to Belis before being altered to fit her daughter.

Then there were the hairpins. Belis had insisted on the twisted ivory ones, but when they couldn't be found - and Tahni's guiltily downcast eyes told Ederra all she needed to know about their fate - the pearl-studded ones had been brought out of grandmother's dowry chest. And they worked quite well.

All in all, she had to admit her charge made a convincing appearance. She would neither be taken too seriously, nor bring shame to the family name. The perfect compromise seemed to have been achieved.

"We're good," said Ederra. "Let's go."

Tahni nodded, then froze up and gave a startled yelp.

"The shoes!"

Oh.

Ederra had forgotten all about those. She watched as Tahni picked one of them up from beneath her bench. Wooden, bulky, and thoroughly impractical, they were a trial in and of themselves, though Belis had assured her daughter that candidates would only be required to wear them on this first day. As tall rectangular platforms resting on two cylindrical tubes on each end along their length, there was no difference between either left and right, or back and front. A single thick strap set in the middle foretold a precarious balancing situation.

Tahni gulped.

"I can't make any promises about not falling on my face."

"No one will expect you to run," said Ederra. She remembered her own pains when being forced to master walking in these ridiculous things. "Look at the bright side: if you end up being queen, you could have these outlawed."

Before the full blaze of Tahni's glare could roast her on the spot, Ederra opened the carriage's only door and landed lightly on the gravel walk outside the palace gate. There were half a dozen carriages lining the wall alongside theirs, and she spied one or two colorful ceremonial garbs among a fluttering of attendants coming and going every which way. She wondered at how they managed not to clog the surprisingly narrow gate, consisting of a low archway in the palace's tall, defensive stone wall. If it hadn't been for all the activity, Ederra would have been convinced they were in the wrong place.

"Catch me, please," came a sullen voice from back inside the carriage. Ederra turned around and helped Tahni shuffle out of the swaying vehicle, keeping her from getting tangled in the folds of her own dress.

"This will be a royal nightmare," complained Tahni.

They proceeded slowly towards the gate, pausing every other step to allow Tahni to rearrange the gown fold she had just stepped on. They made slow, but steady progress, and Ederra threw out some comments about how many servants and ladies-in-waiting could be seen about.

"Theoretically, a candidate can bring as many attendants as she wants," explained Tahni absently. "Their job is to make sure she has everything she needs, like refreshments, and fans, and a small dagger in case she wants to kill herself."

"Well, I'm sorry to say you'll be getting none of those."

"Not even that last one?" asked Tahni hopefully.

"What I'd like to know," continued Ederra as if she hadn't heard, "is how your mother accepted to send only me."

Tahni snorted.

"Mother's wildly out of touch. She's devoted to her garden, her old friends from school, and buying ugly decorative stuff. She barely steps foot in the palace and never mixes with the rest of the officials' wives."

Just as they reached the arched gate, an unheeding servant jostled them and Tahni stumbled hard. Ederra was instantly there, steadying her arm, and leading her out onto a small terraced garden, bordered by tall linden trees, and leading down to a body of water. A line of colorfully dressed women began on one of the lower levels, and Ederra tried not to goggle at their luxurious apparel, visible even from a distance.

Fortunately, Tahni didn't feel intimidated by the grandeur displayed by her direct competitors, as she was too focused on the ground. Quickly scanning the rest of their surroundings, Ederra guided her towards the nearest steps.

"Oh, great," growled Tahni as she beheld her next ordeal. "I think you'd better let me take this on alone."

Ederra nodded and started downstairs, resolving to remain close by in case she had to cushion her friend's fall. Casting her eyes around once again, she noticed another candidate being led down the stairs by two sturdy-looking attendants.

In the end, despite taking considerably longer, Tahni made it down as well. She hadn't been graceful, but every step she'd taken had been efficient and calculated. Ederra was beginning to admire her perseverance. However, there was no hiding the trembling in her legs as she neared the bottom.

"I pity the shoemaker who first made these," commented Ederra as Tahni drew level to her on the edge of the lowest terrace. "Each time a woman takes a step in these, she's bound to curse him into eternity."

"How do you know it's a him?" gasped Tahni, trying to catch her breath. "We're pretty good at inventing tortures for ourselves. Let's finish this, shall we?"

They set about walking again, slowly winding their way between luxurious flowerbeds to reach the other candidates and their respective entourages. Ederra couldn't keep her eyes away from them, and as she studied them, she came upon a surprising observation.

"Why are there so few?"

"Few what?" grunted Tahni. "There seem to be a lot of them."

"Candidates! I'm counting only nine. Are the rest of them going to be late?"

"Not likely. There just aren't that many."

It was frustrating that Tahni didn't feel her bewilderment. How could this be?

"But they're competing to be queen! I thought everyone wanted this."

At last, Tahni raised her eyes to regard her with a heavy frown.

"This is what you get excited for? You're really weird."

"Why?"

Tahni sighed and once again concentrated on her walking.

"There would be no point. Theoretically, anyone could enter, even a low-born, but the courtiers would see to sorting them out."

"I thought the king chooses his queen."

"He's the one who makes the final nomination. But tradition states that he only reads the chosen one's name after the Inner Council gives it to him. They make the decision."

"Couldn't he pick someone else?"

"He could. But it's understood that if he wants a particular woman, he's welcome to take her on as concubine. The queen is selected by the court officials."

Ederra considered this new piece of information and once again bemoaned the unfortunate gaps in her father's library. While it boasted etiquette books galore, it contained hardly any text describing the unspoken rules, how life actually unfolded at court. The history books had proven just as dry, with nary a hint at what Ederra was about to experience first-hand today. Well, almost first-hand.

"Has a woman who failed at becoming queen ever returned as a concubine?"

"Rarely. It would be like admitting defeat. No, I think most of the interested families bet on sending a concubine or two. If they're clever, they're said to wield almost as much power."

They reached the edge of the long artificial lake. A narrow causeway of treacherous-looking stepping stones marked a parallel line to the levelly paved pathway on the shore leading to the opposite side, where stood an impressive domed structure - Channa's temple, as Ederra had gathered from Belis' excited rambling before they left.

"Though there was one time when they had to pick between one hundred and twenty-three candidates."

It took a few moments for the words to register, but when they did, Ederra rounded on Tahni in astonishment.

"Well, what did they do?" she asked with bated breath.

Tahni grinned, woes of inappropriate footwear forgotten for now.

"They made them all take part in a huge food fight. The rules were murky, and a lot of other people got dragged in. They said a thousand peach pies were sacrificed that day."

"Who won?"

"Nobody. In the end, the king picked the only woman in the palace who still had a clean dress. She turned out to be his chambermaid."

Ederra narrowed her eyes.

"Did that really happen?" she asked suspiciously.

"That's the neat part: everyone assumed it was a legend until the bookkeepers found the receipt for the pies. I'm telling you, it should be made a crime for history tutors not to talk about this!"

They shared a quick laugh before noticing a flurry of activity among the candidates. Some were shedding garments and accessories, while others bent down in unusual positions, as if they wanted to stretch their legs.

Tahni eyed the proceedings with mounting worry, and when the first contestant detached herself from the flock to step confidently onto the causeway, she swore with conviction. Ederra had to remind herself to close her jaw as she watched two other women follow suit, raising their skirts to reveal the dreaded wooden contraptions.

"Hell, no," whispered Tahni, and Ederra felt inclined to agree. This was madness.