"Well, that is to say they haven't been able to do anything like that with the sub-trigonometric functions yet. But they're fun."
"Bend your head a little to the left, ma'am," was the maid's comment.
Clea bent.
"You're going to look beautiful." Four and five fingers wove deftly in her hair. "Just beautiful."
"I hope that Tomar can get here. It's not going to be any fun without him."
"But isn't the King coming?" asked the maid. "I saw his acceptance note myself. You know it was on very simple paper. Very elegant."
"My father will enjoy that a good deal more than I will. My brother went to school with the King before ... before his Majesty's coronation."
"That's amazing," said the maid. "Were they friends? Just think of it? Do you know whether they were friends or not?"
Clea shrugged.
"And, oh," said the maid, continuing, "have you seen the ballroom? All the hors d'oeuvres are real, imported fish. You can tell, because they're smaller than the ones your father grows."