"You can go to the temple." The sentence dropped into the Williams hall like a stone in a still pond. The household froze. A servant paused mid-bow. The light through the lattice cut Violeta's cheekbones into shadow and truth. Julieta's smile thinned. "What did you say?" Wolfgang Martin's face went a color that had nothing to do with the hearth. He had practiced outrage for tonight. It was a look worn like a cloak. "Violeta—" he began, the title a threat that trembled. "She can be the family's pious daughter," Julieta said fast, venom under silk. "An abbess's ward. It's a fine story for the city. It keeps us respectable and—" She turned her charm like a blade to their father. "Father, the palace will be pleased with an oath of piety. Julieta should be considered for the emperor's entertainment only if the house cannot offer the honor of a temple maiden." The men at court liked clear lists: names, dowries, favors. Wolfgang tasted prestige in Julieta's words. He wanted the palace favor. He wanted the crest of Rios, the whispered introductions that scattered faster than coin. "Yes. Julieta—" he started, the grin arriving like a payment made. Violeta cut him with a motion that needed no flourish. She stepped forward. Hands folded at her waist. She made a small show of reluctance, as daughters of houses learned to perform. She knelt in the middle of the room. "This house has