privilege of serving His Majesty is honor enough,” Longhai cut in. “Any more honor, and we’d have to become priests at the High Temple.”
On and on they talked, until it had to be past midnight. My eyelids drooped. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since leaving Port Kamalan.
No, I need to stay alert. I’ll never finish if I go to sleep now.
I stretched my fingers and rubbed a sore muscle in my neck. My whole body was tense. Bending over my work for hours and hours was second nature to me, but not while surrounded by eleven other tailors. The temptation to peek at my neighbors’ progress was great, and everyone’s chatter made it difficult for me to focus.
I rolled my shoulders back and picked up my needle to embroider the edges of the shawl, taking care not to smudge the painted scene.
“I made a cloak for the Lady of Bandeiya embroidered with a thousand peonies,” Master Taraha was saying, “and she loved it so much she paid me with the finest jade necklace. My daughter is lucky to have me as a father. I gave it to her as part of her dowry.”
“I’ve personally met Lady Sarnai. I know what she prefers.”
“I can’t imagine the barbarian’s daughter in such fine silk. What a waste.”
I knotted my thread and yanked it free from its spool. If only they would stop chattering!
“And what about you, Keton Tamarin?” Yindi called out from the other side of the room. “You’re a quiet one. Why do you want to win His Majesty’s little contest?”
I froze. What could I say? I was here for the glory, but more to help my family.
Don’t be humble, Keton had warned me. A man is proud of his craft. To be less than so is to seem ashamed of it.
I said, with as much arrogance as I could muster, “Because I’m the best tailor in A’landi.”
I heard several of the men scoff. “You’re barely a man.”
“Youth itself is a talent,” Norbu said, calming them. “I trust His Majesty’s judgment.”
Yindi was relentless. “And how are you the best tailor, young Tamarin?”
I swallowed but spoke boldly. “I can spin and weave and knot. I’ve studied all four schools of embroidery. I can do a hundred different stitches in my sleep, and I’m fast.”
Someone sniffed. “A brilliant design isn’t only about speed or intricate stitches.”
“I know.” I went on, “It’s also about composition. And color—”
“You think you know more about color than I do?” Yindi scoffed. “Well, pretty boy, we’ll see what you come up with. My bet is that you won’t last through the morning.”
“I suppose he can taper and hem a pair of trousers with his eyes closed,” Boyen muttered, just loudly enough for me to hear. “So why did he come dressed like a peasant?”
My ego faltered, but I caught Longhai’s encouraging smile. “You’ll see” was all I could muster.
Don’t draw any more attention, I warned myself. They already think there’s something odd about you.
My hands trembled. For the first time I could remember, I had trouble easing my thread into the needle’s eye.
“Having difficulty, Tamarin?” Boyen mocked. “Maybe you should try licking the thread.” He made a smacking sound. “It’s what they teach the children to do.”
I couldn’t take it anymore. I grabbed my cane and started for the door.
“You can’t be tired yet, young Tamarin?” Norbu said when I passed his station. “Why don’t you get some tea?”
It was a good idea, and I nodded to thank him for it. The tea reserves were kept in an anteroom in the hall, and I filled a cup, taking a long sip.
When I returned to my table to pick up my shawl, I cried out. Someone had spilled tea over my fabric! The paints were smeared all over the silk. The lady I had painstakingly drawn to resemble Lady Sarnai was no more than a blob.
Who had done this? I looked at all the tailors, but they ignored me.
I bit my lip and bunched up the ruined silk. Tears welled in my eyes, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they had hurt me.
“Had enough, pretty boy?” Yindi shouted at me.
Norbu clapped his hands to get everyone’s attention. “Young Tamarin, if you need extra silk, you are welcome to take my scraps. I’m going to sleep.”
“Thank you,” I whispered. “But I’ll manage.”
“Norbu,” the others cried, “you’re going to bed already?”
“I work best alone,” he said, stifling a yawn. “And in the morning.”