The palace has a thousand faces: the court's face, hard-edged and perfumed; the hearth's face, warm and well-worn; the war-room's face, severe and ash-streaked. There is one other face few see — the private face, the one revealed between two people who are both sovereigns and lovers. Tonight Mehrawan turned its private face toward Raidant and Iravika. The world outside still pointed with spears and inked ledgers; inside, the small things gathered like armor: a folded handkerchief, the warm press of a shoulder, the unspoken architecture of habit.