so many gathered here: Minister Lorsa and three other eunuchs, a line of courtiers, several of Lady Sarnai’s maids—and Lord Xina. All here to see if I’d succeeded in making Amana’s dresses.
“You’re late,” said Emperor Khanujin as the doors shut. He wasn’t looking at me, and it took me a while to realize someone else had arrived after me.
Behind me, Lady Sarnai approached. Her bow was slung over her shoulder, as if she’d only just returned from hunting. In her hand was an arrow, as sharp as the animosity in her eyes. I wondered if she was considering shooting me. She certainly didn’t look pleased to see me here.
She gave her weapon to one of the emperor’s eunuchs and dropped the arrow in her hand, as well as her quiver, on the floor. If she was surprised to see Lord Xina here, she concealed it well as she bowed to the emperor.
“Rise,” he said, taking a seat on one of the two scarlet lacquered chairs set out for him and Lady Sarnai in the center of the room, incense burning beside them. I noticed Edan’s amulet on his sash. It looked the same as always—old and dull, with that carving of a hawk.
“The red sun has arrived,” Emperor Khanujin declared. “Master Tailor, we have long awaited your completion of Amana’s dresses. Present them to Lady Sarnai so she may attire herself in one to honor the shansen’s arrival at our celebration banquet tonight.”
I swallowed, keeping my head low and my hand on the head of my cane as I rose. “Your Highness,” I said, addressing Lady Sarnai, “I have completed your dresses and present them to you in anticipation of your marriage to Emperor Khanujin.”
As I lifted the dresses and unfolded them, I marveled that not a wrinkle marred their fabric. I heard Lady Sarnai’s maids gasp as I held up each dress, one after another. The skirts puffed like clouds, shimmering and sparkling with such intensity, they looked like they were made of beams of sunlight and moonlight, of gold and diamonds and other precious jewels.
“One dress woven with the laughter of the sun,” I narrated as the maid took the dresses from me to present to Lady Sarnai. “And one embroidered with the tears of the moon.”
Lady Sarnai barely looked at them. It was difficult to do so. The dresses were blinding up close, but my eyes were used to their light.
“Lastly,” I said, “a dress painted with the blood of the stars.”
“Wait.” Lord Xina stepped forward to inspect the dress. His large hands hovered over the fabric, which strangely did not glitter or sparkle. Even in my hazy memory, I could have sworn it had come alive last night when I had worn it. As if I carried the light of the stars.
But no, the dress remained black. Black as coal, as ink—as death.
“An inauspicious color for a wedding, isn’t it?” said Lord Xina, slinging the words at the emperor. “You insult the shansen.”
A corner of Lady Sarnai’s lips twisted upward. “Even if the color did not repulse me, it is exceedingly plain, Master Tamarin. Hardly a dress evocative of our great goddess.”
I drew closer to the maid holding the dress and tried to get her to step into the light. But the light was crimson and did nothing to bring out the colors of the stars.
“It catches the light, Your Highness,” I said, trying to hide how mystified I was by the lackluster dress. “Perhaps because today is the red sun, the light is different.”
Emperor Khanujin folded his arms across his chest, his long silken sleeves draping over the ground. “Don’t look so sullen, Lady Sarnai. I think the color will suit you quite well.”
“I won’t wear it,” she said. “Lord Xina is right. It would be inauspicious.”
“Perhaps Your Highness should try on one of the other dresses,” Edan prompted. “The dress of the sun.”
Lady Sarnai’s eyes narrowed at him. “What difference does a different dress make, if this one fails to dazzle? I asked for the three dresses of the goddess Amana, not imitations.”
“They are not imitations,” said Edan sharply.
“Indeed not,” Emperor Khanujin said. He rested his hands on his knees, looking strangely calm. “Last night, my guards swore they saw the goddess Amana at the Great Temple wearing a dress made of the stars.”
Several of the eunuchs murmured to one another that they, too, had heard this tale.
Lord Xina turned to Edan, his face taut with anger. “Did you think to