Genevieve nodded slowly. “The idea behind the zenana is a noble one. There are many girls who suffer. But like everything Gahalatine has done, it is the sheer scale of it that causes the problem.” She rubbed her mouth. “And the zenana is guarded by women, you say?”
Sureya nodded. “The Urdubegis.”
“What does that name mean in our language?” Trynne asked.
Sureya thought a while. “Promise Keepers? That is near enough to it. They embody the Lady of the Fountain. The protectors of the home. I told my father that if I had to go to the zenana in the Forbidden Court, I would rather be trained as an Urdubegis. Gahalatine may never decide who he wants to marry because he doesn’t stay in the Imperial City for long.”
Genevieve gave her and Trynne a knowing smile. “Some men can be that way. You are here now, Sureya. And I think it’s the Fountain’s will that you are. Lady Tryneowy is an Urdubegis. In our language, they are called the Oath Maidens. She has been secretly training defenders of Kingfountain. When I heard of your plight, I thought you might wish to join them.”
Sureya’s eyes widened with eagerness. “Is this true? To become an Urdubegis is my greatest wish!” She turned to Trynne. “You are a warrior, my lady?”
Trynne nodded and offered a small shrug.
“Gahalatine believes in the power of the Urdubegis. After Gahalatine won his first victory, the Emperor of Chandigarl sent his general with a massive army to destroy him. The emperor—Gahalatine’s father—had many children who were old enough to fight for him and was no longer accustomed to the rigors of war. His brothers ruled the court and the Wizrs ruled them. His general’s reputation was one of ruthlessness, and the people hated him. Gahalatine summoned all the women in the city—the one that became the Forbidden Court—to defend himself. They did everything they could. Some even threw steaming potfuls of water down from the walls to injure his enemies. Many knew how to use bows and spears. Some fought with swords. Without the women who rallied to him, he might never have achieved his victory.” She paused before continuing. “They say he is blessed so that people wish to follow him whenever he speaks. I felt the power of his words in my father’s oasis. They stirred my soul, but I did not feel compelled by them as I feared I would. Why do so many others? My father stood up to him. I don’t believe he was swayed. Is he losing his power?”
Trynne knew very well why it didn’t happen, but she was not prepared to share her secrets so quickly. “Your father has a very strong sense of duty and integrity, I suspect,” Trynne said. “And he has imparted that to you as well.”
Sureya flushed and bowed her head respectfully.
“My thanks to you both. Trynne, can we speak on the balcony for a moment? If you’ll excuse us?” Genevieve added, looking at Sureya, who seemed startled that a queen had begged her pardon.
Trynne retreated to the balcony with Genevieve. Outside, the air was fresh and cool, smelling of late summer. From her vantage point, Trynne could barely see the magnolia gardens. Her heart lurched from the memory of the last time she had been there. She’d not stepped foot in the gardens since Fallon had made his proposal to her—a proposal she had rejected despite her heart’s desire for him. Her mother, whose visions of the future always came to pass, had seen her marrying someone else. Fallon was unreliable too, and despite her feelings for him, she couldn’t trust him.
Any relationship between them would only end badly.
Kingfountain had always been a treasure to her, a place of childhood memories, a second home. But since their confrontation in the garden, those old memories were tinged with bitterness. She and Fallon had hardly spoken since then, and whenever they did come face-to-face, her wounds felt raw and painful. Fallon had changed in the months that had followed. He was more serious, more circumspect and distant. She missed his quips and teasing now that they were lost to her.
“You’ve a faraway look in your eye,” Genevieve said.
Trynne gave her one of her crooked smiles. “I left Averanche in the morning, arrived in Chandleer at sunset, and now it’s midmorning again. I’ve been halfway around the world and back, and the day has hardly started. It was enough to make my head spin.”
Genevieve knew she was being deflected—the look in her eyes said as much—but she didn’t press. “I am indeed grateful that you are safe. Gahalatine is full of surprises. One moment he’s in one place. Another he’s gone. He’s completely unpredictable.”