She had changed her hua in the interim. This time, it was of a deep blue, to mimic the depths of the sea. A pattern of waves made up half of the dress before tapering off as it drifted downward, speckled in areas with orange-colored carp and silver-backed trout. The dragon was again a prominent design here, but parts of its body remained hidden behind her waist wrap, which was tinted in turquoise and overlaid with peach and gray seashells, so only its head and front legs stuck out. Its eyes were made of black agate, and they peered out at me with its disproportioned snout raised, tusks on display. Its hind legs jutted out at the bottom of the thick wrap, tail ending in a long, sharp spike.

To complement her hua, she wore an assortment of jeweled pins on her hair commonly seen in royal courts. The gems dangled from long sticks pushed into her hair, braided and secured by silk bands and fashioned from aquamarine and fire-opal beads.

“I have made twenty-eight visits to the Akyon oracle.”

This announcement piqued my curiosity. I was aware of the Ankyo oracle’s importance to the asha of the Willows, but the women are only required to visit her for the most important matters—when she begins a relationship with a patron, for example, or when she pledges service to a king or noble.

“The average asha makes only two visits to the temple during her time as an apprentice,” she said, sensing my next question. “The first to present herself when she comes to take up residence at the Willows, and the second when she is about to debut as a full-fledged asha. Until she finds a benefactor, she is no longer required to announce herself to the oracle.

“Unfortunately, the oracle had something very different in mind with me.”