It was impossible to sleep with Norbu’s threat looming over me. Every sound rattled me. The mice skittering outside my door, the leaves rustling on the roof. Still, no one came for me, which meant Norbu hadn’t told the emperor my secret. Yet.
The more you worry about it, the less you’ll be able to concentrate on actually beating him, I scolded myself. Catching sight of my scissors, I bolted up. And you will.
I stayed awake, sketching until morning light streaked the walls of my chamber. Charcoal stained my palm, and my fingers were sore from drawing, but finally, the perfect dress formed on the page. Tucking my sketchbook under my arm, I hastened to my new workroom and began laying out fabrics over the cutting table.
I constructed the bodice first, layering sheaths of shimmering pale blue silk over satin, then sewing them all together. It gave the effect of a glittering ocean—the view I’d grown up with.
I worked more slowly because of my weak hand, but my seams were still perfect, so tight not even a needle could pierce them. I beaded the collar with a hundred tiny pearls, their luster like the sheen of the stars, and silver-embroidered lace.
Around midday, a light knock broke my concentration.
I assumed it was Edan. I’d gotten used to his unannounced visits, and truthfully I looked forward to them, especially now. Perhaps he could give me advice on what to do about Norbu.
Not Edan. Ammi, with lunch.
The kitchen maid wore a bright smile. Setting her tray on the round wooden table, she let out a gasp and picked up the bodice on my lap. She breathed, holding it to her, “Is this for Lady Sarnai’s dress? It’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
“You think so?” I said, inhaling. “I’m not done yet.”
Ammi passed it back to me. “What more will you do?”
I was glad of a break, so I showed Ammi my sketch. “Do you think she’d like it?”
“Even the goddess Amana would love it,” Ammi said firmly.
I sighed. “Somehow I think even Amana is less picky than Lady Sarnai.”
We giggled together, and for a moment I forgot I was a boy. I cut my laugh short, but Ammi didn’t seem to notice my lapse in character.
“Will you be able to finish it in a week?” she said.
That was my main worry. I bit my lip. “I’ll do my best.”
“Norbu hasn’t even started,” she told me. “I went to bring him lunch, and he wasn’t there.”
I swallowed, knowing why Norbu had yet to work on his dress. “Do you know where he’s gone?”
“No, but no one is to leave the palace today. Lord Xina has returned. The emperor is not happy about the visit—the gates are closed until he departs.”
“I see. Thank you, Ammi. You’ve been more helpful than you know.”
Ammi’s shoulders heaved, the way mine always did when there was something on my mind that should be kept there. “I saw the Lord Enchanter watching you during the challenge,” she blurted. “Why didn’t you tell me—” She bit her lip. “I would have understood, but I assumed…”
“You think I’m with Edan?” I didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused. “The Lord Enchanter?”
“I won’t tell,” she said quickly. “It explains so much, anyway.” She cleared her throat, looking very red. “He’d always flirt with the maids, but I always wondered why he never chased any of them. Heaven knows they’ve thrown themselves at him.”
I started to tell her that she was out of her mind to think I was involved in some forbidden romance with Edan, but then I stopped. If Ammi thought me a boy who wasn’t interested in girls, we could be friends. I desperately wanted a friend in the palace.
“He is very handsome,” I admitted, a little startled to realize it wasn’t a lie. I pursed my lips. What else could I say about Edan? He was tall and lean, not as warriorlike as the emperor, but he looked just as strong. No, I couldn’t say that! I couldn’t comment on his eyes, either, on their ever-changing colors.
“He looks out for you,” Ammi said with a giggle. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not!” I said. Eager to change the subject, I raised my sketch of Lady Sarnai’s dress again. “Now tell me, as a girl who’s grown up watching the court, would a lady of Lady Sarnai’s station prefer wider sleeves or sleeves that come off the shoulder like what’s in fashion in the West now…?”
Ammi stayed until she was missed, giving me advice on what the ladies in court wore and on what might please Lady Sarnai. After she left, I sewed until the blisters on my fingers burst and I had to bandage them. I would need the scissors to complete the task in time.
I fluttered a sheet of sapphire silk onto my table and then reached for the scissors—the light reflected from the blades and shimmered against the walls behind me. As I raised them, they began to glow.
Only after I steamed and pressed my dress and carried it to Lady Sarnai’s apartments did I realize I had barely eaten or slept in days.
I wasn’t hungry or tired, though. Only anxious.
Norbu was already there, his dress mounted on a wooden mannequin. He’d chosen a heavier silk; from afar it almost looked like velvet, a deep burgundy the color of blood. As always, every piece of the dress was beautiful—the blouse trimmed with black fur along the collar, the sash beaded with drops of carved scarlet lacquer and jade, and the skirt embroidered with gold phoenixes sweeping up its skillfully draped folds. But my dress was stunning.
I was covering my work with a sheet to protect it from the sun when, from the corner of my eye, I saw Norbu stop to greet me.
He kicked at the skirts. “Not bad for a boy with a broken hand,” he said, touching my forearm.
I jerked. “Get away from me.”
His lips puckered, but he let me go. Lady Sarnai, Edan, and Minister Lorsa had arrived. Where was the emperor?
I glanced at Edan, but his gaze was on my dress. Was that a smile on his lips?
I looked away, my eye catching sight of a teapot on one of Lady Sarnai’s side tables. I hoped I wouldn’t need to pour it over Norbu’s dress to unmask his illusion. It seemed clear that mine was better.
“Master Norbu,” Lady Sarnai said, “your dress is one that my mother would have worn.”
She moved to my corner of the room. How could she be so graceful while also so cruel? I couldn’t help admiring her as much as I disliked her.
I lifted the sheet covering my dress and heard a few sharp intakes of breath from Lady Sarnai’s maids. “It’s marvelous,” they whispered to one another.
“Have you ever seen anything so spectacular?”
“All the ladies in court will want one just like it.”
I leaned on my cane, drinking in their praise. For the hundredth time, I tried to look at my dress objectively and find a reason for Lady Sarnai to reject it. I couldn’t think of any.
My dress was a soft pearlescent blue, one of the many shades of the sea Sendo had taught me to see as a girl. The outer layer, a short robe wrapped under a sash fastened by a silver cord, was a richer sapphire, the long sleeves embroidered with tiny rose blossoms and soaring cranes with magnificent white wings. On the skirts were opal-petaled water lilies and golden fish swimming in a silvery pool above the hem embellished with seed pearls and layers of lace, like ripples of water.
For an empress, I was sure all would agree mine was more appropriate than Norbu’s. Certainly, more beautiful by far.
I exhaled, sure I had finally beaten him.
“Very fine work,” Lady Sarnai murmured. “Master Tamarin, truly you’ve outdone yourself.”
Her face was soft, almost kind. Was she in a better mood now that Lord Xina was here?
“Alas,” she said, “this trial must come to an end. Both Master Tamarin and Master Norbu are skilled beyond measure, but I feel one would serve me better than the other.” The softness dissolved, and she sent a sharp glance at Minister Lorsa.
The eunuch clasped his hands and announced, “Master Norbu has won the position.”
My knees buckled, and blood rushed to my ears, making my heart pound in my head. What? After everything that had happened, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t fail Baba and Keton, not like this.
“H-he can’t win,” I stammered. “Master Norbu’s dress is an illusion.”
Before anyone could stop me, I reached for Lady Sarnai’s pot of tea and splashed its contents at Norbu’s dress.
The dress wilted, the rich burgundy fading as the texture of the silk thinned and roughened. Slowly, the fur and beading disappeared, and the gold phoenixes shriveled until they were threadbare, leaving behind little more than a sheath of white silk sewn into the form of a dress.
“Well, there we have it,” Edan said, a beat after Minister Lorsa sniffed with disbelief. “Magic, and a rather poor display of one at that. Master Tamarin is the more skilled tailor. That is clear to all.”
Lady Sarnai crossed her arms, her lips curling into a tight grimace. “Regardless, I prefer Master Norbu’s service.”
“But, Your Highness,” Edan said thinly, “we all know how strongly you feel about the use of enchantment.”
“This is my decision,” she insisted. “The emperor and I agreed upon this in the truce.”
“His Majesty and your father agreed you could select a tailor,” said Edan sharply, “not a spy. Master Norbu, I take it, was more compliant than Master Tamarin in accepting your terms.”
Lady Sarnai’s jaw locked, and she glared at me.
Meanwhile, Norbu made no move to leave. “Master Tamarin?” he asked calmly. “Don’t you mean Mistress Tamarin?” He was fast for such a large man, and I moved too late. He ripped at the buttons on my tunic, exposing the straps over my chest.
Lady Sarnai gasped, and the maids covered their mouths with their hands.
A cold tide of alarm seized me. For a moment, I couldn’t breathe. I stood immobile—in shock, as the world spun.
“She’s a girl, Your Highness,” Norbu said. “She lied to you all.”
“No—” I started.
Lady Sarnai raised a hand, silencing everyone. “Lord Enchanter,” she said, beckoning Edan to her. “Is this true?”
I wasn’t sure whether it was an accusation that he’d known, or whether Lady Sarnai simply wanted him to inspect me. Edan looked at me unflinchingly.
“Yes,” he said. “It’s true.”
My chest squeezed tight. I met Lady Sarnai’s eyes, waiting for the chilly dismissal I’d come to expect from the shansen’s daughter. But for once, her brows unfurrowed, and her lips eased out of their usual frown. Time stretched. There was something in her stare I’d never seen before: compassion.
I dared hope that she might take pity on me. After all, I was a girl—like her. One who’d risked everything to break free of the roles this world expected of her. She would understand better than anyone.
Then Lady Sarnai fluttered a hand, and my heart sank. “Take her away.”
“Please, Your Highness!” I shouted. “Please—don’t.”
Her bodyguards grabbed me, and I turned to Edan. But he spoke not a word in my defense. Nothing, as Norbu smirked and the servants watched with widened eyes.
“What will her punishment be?” Edan simply asked Lady Sarnai.
The shansen’s daughter paused, considering. “Forty lashes to her back—wake her if she faints and restart the count. I’ll ask His Majesty to have her hanged in the morning.”
I let out a strangled cry.
Edan bowed to Lady Sarnai. It was curt, but obedient. “As you wish.”