“I bet the King hates repeating himself,” one of the workmen said.

“No one likes it,” Amram said, “but the King never objects—he wants the record right. The Queen on the other hand…”

There was so much I wanted to know. “So what do you do if you don’t hear her right?”

Amram leaned in close and lowered his voice, like one sharing a secret. The others halted their conversations, so all still heard. “If it’s not important, or you’re sure the mistake won’t be noticed, let it go. No reason to draw her anger for nothing. But if you’ve missed something important, if you value your head, you’d better ask her to repeat it, even at the cost of drawing her ire. Two scribes have already been flogged for missing a command.”

Amram shoved a last bite of bread into his mouth and got up to go. He still wore his woolen tunic, and carried his linen one carefully folded over his arm.

I left the palace soon after dark and headed straight back to the musicians’ quarters. Had anyone been there, I would have been stuck, but it was empty. I stowed my kinnor in a corner, changed back into my woolen tunic, and ran off.

I slowed my pace when I reached Ovadia’s street, walking calmly so I wouldn’t attract attention. Seeing the alleyway empty, I knocked on the gate, four hard raps followed by one soft one.

The gate swung open, and I found myself facing Ovadia himself. His eyes flashed wide, and he gestured me inside. He looked into the alleyway before locking the gate behind us.

Batya and Tamar kneaded dough in the kitchen. Tamar scrutinized my newly cut hair and sniffed at the air. She turned away without a word.

“Are you hungry?” Batya asked.

“I ate at the palace,” I replied, wondering if that had been a mistake.

“Excellent,” Ovadia said. “I want you eating there whenever possible, both the morning and evening meals if you can.”

“I understand.” I pitched my voice so Tamar would hear. “Better that my portion of bread should go to a prophet if I have another source.”

Ovadia waved this away. “I don’t want you in the kitchen for the sake of your stomach. You eat the Kohen’s portion in any case. I want you there for your ears. You’ll often learn more from a meal in the kitchen than from a day in the Throne Room. The servants will speak of matters in your presence they would never mention in mine.”

“Is the kitchen to be trusted?” Tamar didn’t look up from the dough. “Is the information he learns worth him eating impure food?”

“Idolaters may eat from the Queen’s table, but that does not make the kitchen impure,” Ovadia replied. “One of the only times I have seen Ahav stand up to his wife was when her soldiers caught a wild boar, and she wanted to serve it at the royal table.”

“He bows to her gods, why should he not eat their beasts?” Tamar asked.

“King Ahav insists all should be welcome at his table. He’s uncompromising on the sanctity of the kitchen. I would feed the prophets themselves from there.”

Ovadia drew a stool opposite me. “Now Lev, tell me what happened today in the Throne Room.”

“I arrived late as I had to wait for my garments.”

“Did the Queen notice you?”

“She looked up when I started playing, just for a moment, then went back to reading her scroll.”

“And the rest of the day?”

“She never turned my way again.”

“Excellent. That means nothing about you caught her attention. It was wise of you to get your hair cut. You’re young for a musician, but otherwise, you don’t appear out of the ordinary. If she paid you no mind today, she’s unlikely to notice you again. Did you hear anything notable?”

“No. Six petitioners spoke before the King, all commoners, but I was only able to hear two of them over the music.”

“The commoners concern me little. They only petition the King once the chief matters of the day have been heard. Tomorrow you’ll start the day at the beginning and hear more.”

“What do I do if I hear something important? Come find you?”

“Oh no.” Ovadia held up a finger in caution. “Remember, we must never be seen together.”

“I thought I’m to be your eyes and ears?”

“You are. But if a connection between us is even suspected, you’ll no longer be invisible. Even coming here tonight was foolish.” He waved away my protest. “It was my mistake, not yours. I should have realized you’d want to come.”

“So what do I do if I hear anything important?”

Ovadia thought for a moment. “Come tell Batya. As long as I’m not home, I don’t think anyone will be watching the house. Batya can come find me without attracting attention.”

The next morning, I found the servants’ area of the kitchen deserted. A bit of cold bread and the remnants of a chickpea mash were all that remained.

I hung my linen garment on a hook and sat to eat. I chewed my bread as slowly as I could and watched the chefs working at the hearth. Once I finished eating, I would have no excuse to remain. Finally, Tuval came in. “Morning, Lev,” he said, grabbing a piece of bread and sitting beside me. “You just arrive?”

I nodded, not wanting to admit I was already on my third piece. “No one else eats at this hour?”

“Most palace servants rise before the sun. Only after all-night festivals am I ever at the morning meal when it’s crowded. A cold meal is a small price to pay for a warm bed.”

“But they’re still baking now,” I said, pointing to the cooks carrying stacks of bread in from the courtyard.