Clemaina is waiting for me at the table when I finish my lessons with Lady Nyoko. Her hair is piled atop her head, and I picture a giant mushroom underneath the brown tresses, molding the shape. I bite my cheeks to keep from laughing at it. I take the seat on her left, clasping my hands over my pink skirt. She and I match colors—not on purpose of course. I shift away from her, uncomfortable to have anything in common with my sister, even if it is unplanned.

At least the dresses' styles and shades differ. My dress is a slim-fitting baby pink, while hers is a billowing fuschia. As if she didn't take up enough space already, the satin threatens to pop out from under the table at any moment.

Bright red tulle flounces into the room. Lady Avrilaya always looks most flamboyant in red, probably because it resembles actual flames. Tongues of dirty blonde fire-curls surround her head, voluminous enough to rival Clemaina's updo.

"Ladies, I am so embarrassingly sorry for my tardiness," she says in a rolling alto voice.

"It is quite alright," Clemaina says. "We are pleased to be graced with your presence."

Actually, I'm not.

"So pleased you could join us, Lady Avrilaya," I recite. The older woman curtsies before sitting across from me. A smile is nailed to her heavily painted cheeks, though a few wrinkles show through. She gives a nod to Clemaina.

"Let us begin, shall we," Clemaina says. She claps her hands together.

Six maids form a procession into the room. They set a porcelain teapot at the end of the table, centered between Lady Avrilaya, Clemaina, and I, along with a bowl of tea bags and a miniature milk pitcher. Behind it, there is a plate of miniature cakes and brownies. Cookie plates and bowls of fancy chocolates dot the remaining table, all out of reach. I suspect that was done on purpose.

"Lady Avrilaya, which type of tea would you prefer?" Clemaina asks.

"Which varieties are available?"

"We have many specialty varieties, such as vert, spearmint, orange blossom, hazelnut, and roasted cacao."

"Sounds simply divine! I prefer spearmint, thank you."

"As do I, Lady Avrilaya."

The woman lets out a shrill laugh. "Oh, how wonderful it is that our taste preferences collide."

I want to roll my eyes. The number of times I've heard that line is uncountable.

"I would like hazelnut," I say.

"My dear," Lady Avrilaya begins. "You must say that you 'prefer' hazelnut, not that you 'would like.'"

"Sorry, it's been a few weeks," I mumble. Lady Avrilaya opens her mouth to admonish me again, but I quickly say, "I prefer hazelnut."

Lady Avrilaya admonishes me anyway. "You must not speak if you notice someone else is about to."

"And you can not have hazelnut," Clemaina says. "We are low on teabags, and we do not want to run out."

I want to ask why they're offering it if I can't have it, but I hold my tongue.

"Then I'll...prefer roasted cacao." Such a nit-picky rule. Not every lady who comes to tea says that they'd "prefer" one variety over another.

"It is not proper to use contractions during tea time," Lady Avrilaya says. "And roasted cacao is not an appropriate choice for tea time. Ladies must drink more delicate varieties, such as spearmint. Any roasted or heavy flavors must be drunk either in the morning in place of coffee or in the evening along with a rich dessert."

"Then why offer it?" The irritated words spring off my lips before I can stop them.

"One must never show negative emotions during tea time," Lady Avrilaya continues.

"Everyone knows there are options offered at tea time that you can not drink." Clemaina's voice is more syrupy than the tea cakes. "It is best to choose what the other ladies are having."

It takes every bit of will power to keep my voice calm. "I prefer tea vert, then."

Lady Avrilaya and Clemaina look at each other. I know what they're doing, they're trying to box me into having spearmint tea with them so they can talk about how much we have in common. It's beyond stupid, though oftentimes I go along since that's what most ladies do. But today, they're being especially vicious, and I'm not having it.

The maids place the tea bags inside three tea cups that match the teapot's delicately painted swirls. Steam rises as they stream hot water over top, carrying the earthy scent of green tea. Mint also reaches my nose from the other cups.

Lady Avrilaya uses a silver pie server to place a tea cake onto her plate. "Princess Clemaina, I hear you have recently been engaged. Is that true?"

Here we go again. After four months, Lady Avrilaya still can't think of another topic to discuss.

"Yes, Lady Avrilaya. I'm engaged to Duke Tharbort. We plan to be married next month."

"How wonderful! Have you started the arrangements?"

I'm certain Lady Avrilaya knows the answer. She'd be one of the first contacts if arrangements were currently being made.

"Not yet. We planned to begin after the festival, but unforeseen circumstances have postponed our timeline." Clemaina sniffles, a shadow of sadness passing over her face. It's carefully planned, too planned to be real. Irritation pricks inside me, and I grab two brownies from the nearest platter. Rich chocolate doesn't mesh with the light tea, but it helps calm me down.

"Oh, I do hope all is well!"

Clemaina sniffs once more. "It shall be. I hope this wedding can restore joy to the palace. It's been far too dreary around here, and we need to cheer up the atmosphere."

I fight to keep a pleasant expression on my face. She's so delusional. Only Father can restore joy to the palace. Chocolate crumbs fall onto my skirt as my teeth hack at the brownie.

"That's the spirit! Would you pass the butterscotch pralines?"

Clemaina hands her a crystal bowl piled with sweet, gold-coated pecans. Lady Avrilaya takes one and nibbles the corner.

"Any hints about the wedding so far?" Lady Avrilaya asks after swallowing her tiny bite.

"I have a few ideas."

"Do tell!"

"I think it would be so romantic to have an outdoor wedding in the front courtyard, especially next month when all the flowers are in bloom."

"Sounds heavenly!"

"Then we can invite as many people as we like. I'm thinking all the royal court members, and the diplomats and royals from our allied kingdoms may attend as well. We'll have two lemon cakes with ten tiers, together symbolizing the hope that I will reign for a hundred years. Lemon is a nice, bright flavor to get people in a celebratory mood."

"And it represents the sunshine that your reign will bring to our kingdom!" Lady Avrilaya exclaims.

When did Clemaina plan all this? Before or after our father's death? I finish my second brownie in two bites, then stretch for a madeline. My fingertip barely reaches the plate, and I use it to bring the cookies closer.

"And what is more..." Clemaina's voice drops to a conspiratorial level. "I will combine it with my coronation. Imagine, it will be the birth of a marriage and a new queen!"

"I love it!"

"So do I! I can not stop smiling. It is like my heart is bursting for love and expectation."

I can't take another moment of this.

"Seriously?" I say.

Lady Avrilaya and Clemaina pause and look at me. I can feel disgust engraved on my face. I don't try to sweep it into a smile, nor do I hide the bitterness in my voice.

"How can you move on like nothing has happened? Our father is dead."

Lady Avrilaya clucks her tongue. "Princess Aylo, we must not speak of such things at tea time."

"But you did. You talked about the 'unforeseen circumstances' and restoring joy to the castle, which by the way, Clemaina, you'll never achieve with a wedding. You'll only burden the servants and annoy us all to death."

"Princess Aylo, that is enough!" Lady Avrilaya clips her words, though she doesn't raise her voice. "First of all, Clemaina acknowledged a circumstance that everyone is already aware of. It would seem strange if she did not acknowledge his death. But she handled it perfectly, showing sadness but also optimism for the future. Her wedding is the perfect tea time discussion, showing that the monarchy is not shattered by this incident."

"Don't you think a coronation is a bit much?" I snap at Clemaina.

"Watch your tone," Clemaina responds, taking a sip of tea.

"Yes, Princess Aylo," Lady Avrilaya chimes in. "It is not proper to speak like that at tea time. Have we not corrected this issue enough today?"

I harrumph, but there's nothing I can do. I reach for a mini vanilla cake to stifle the rage simmering in my veins.

"Uh, uh, uh," Lady Avrilaya says. Her stocky arm swoops down, and she whisks the plate out of reach. With the other hand, she snaps her finger so that a maid takes it. "If my memory serves me correctly, you have already eaten two brownies and a madeline. That is two extra sweets than you should have eaten this early in the meal. Remember the rule: one baked dessert, two cookies, or one cookie and a gourmet chocolate. Other confectionaries may be eaten in moderation."

My back collapses against the back of my chair. I'm so done with this.

"Posture, Princess Aylo!"

Footsteps thunder down the hall. Benno and Sigvard race into the room, then screech to a halt when they see us.

"Oh, good afternoon, ladies," Benno says.

"Good afternoon, Prince Benno." Lady Avrilaya's grin returns. "Is there anything I can do for you?"

Benno swallows. "Well, um, yes." Sigvard elbows Benno. "Though maybe not right now..."

"Prince Sigvard, it is not polite to elbow a visitor," Lady Avrilaya says. "And what is it, Prince Benno?"

His eyes flick to me. "We were wondering if we could speak with Princess Aylo."

"Oh! Of course!"

"I think it's best if we wait," Benno says. Pink creeps onto his dark cheeks.

"How much longer will this tea party be?" I ask. I've already broken so many social conventions that I don't care if it isn't proper behavior.

"We could end it early." Lady Avrilaya sips her tea and sets it on her saucer with a clink. "Perhaps an hour and a half is a stretch for today."

I gape at her. "An hour and a half?"

"That is a completely normal length," Lady Avrilaya declares. "As I said, perhaps, we should cut it short. But just this once."

"Thank you." I push my chair back from the table, swiping a cookie as I leave. I jog around the corner, followed by Lady Avrilaya's final chastisement for hurrying away.

Sigvard, Benno, and I duck into the lounge, the same one I found the ledger in a few hours ago. I plop onto the couch, the two boys across from me.

"How can I ever thank you for getting me out of there?" I say.

"You can give me that cookie," Sigvard says, eying the pistachio biscuit in my hand.

I take a swift bite. "Next time."

"I'm hungry. Why don't guys get tea time?" Sigvard slumps against the couch cushions, arms folded over his stomach.

"We don't get to eat very much." I crunch down on the cookie again. The buttery crumbs dissolve into sugar. "I'm currently three-hundred percent over my sweets limit."

"Training always makes me hungry," Sigvard continues. "Today, Lord Edger and I practiced fencing."

"Let's focus on why we wanted to speak with Aylo," Benno says. "I've been reading through the servant records all day, and I made a list of all the names beginning with 'E' during Odeia's trial." Benno hands me a sheet of paper covered in small cursive. I read over the names until one catches my eye.

"Evlyn!" I exclaim. "Evlyn Garis was my mother's head maid. She helped my mother after dinner the night she died. Remember, Sigvard?"

"Mother had a stomach ache, right?" Sigvard says.

"Yes. But why would Evlyn warn Odeia that she was under investigation?"

"She was probably asked for her testimony. Maybe she realizes that it incriminated Odeia in some way."

I continue to stare at the name, at each curve, dip, and line until the name is reduced to letters.

"Is there a way we can talk to her? Perhaps she knows something about that night that was never recorded," Benno says.

"She doesn't work at the castle anymore," I say.

"She's probably still alive, though. If we find out where she is, we can talk to her."

I meet Benno's gaze, thinking over his words. "When? My time is certainly being eaten up."

"We'll make time," Benno says. "The first step is to find out where she lives."