Unruffled, he said, “How thoughtful, Your Highness. I have been thinking about having new shoes made, but I think I’ll stay with my current pair a little longer. I’ve no desire to walk on any more pins and needles than one does with you already.”
I stifled a smile, but Lady Sarnai wasn’t quite so amused. She snapped her fan open and returned to the front of the hall.
“Master Norbu, Master Longhai, and Master Yindi shall remain,” she said.
I bit my lip, hating how my insides curled. Yindi sent me a smirk, but Lady Sarnai wasn’t finished.
“And,” she said, “I will keep Master Tamarin as well.”
Gratitude and relief washed over me, but it was short-lived.
“Master Yindi has won for the second time,” Lady Sarnai went on. “He shall join me at the banquet tonight in my honor. To the rest of you who remain—do not disappoint me again.”
My inner voice nagged. You were almost sent home.
You could have won—if you had used the scissors.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I’d been in the palace a week, and gone from home for nearly two. I missed Baba and Keton terribly; sometimes after leaving the hall, I composed letters to them in my head. It sounded silly, but it lessened my pangs of loneliness.
Now that there were only four tailors left, I had time to write an actual letter. I sat by a pond of carp surrounded by plum trees, which was quickly becoming my favorite spot in the palace, with a sheet of parchment on my lap, and my brush…but I didn’t know what to say.
Dear Baba—and Maia,
The emperor has asked twelve men to compete for the position of imperial tailor, and I had to make a pair of slippers last night—out of glass! Can you believe it? I didn’t use those scissors you gave me.
I hesitated and folded an arm over the pond’s stone edge. “Oh, Baba, did you know what they can do? I need to win, but what if I can’t without them?” I wrung my hands. “No, I can’t write that.”
I didn’t use those scissors you gave me, and my slippers passed the challenge. I hope the money I sent home will be enough to last through the summer.
My brush trembled as I bit my lip, reading aloud as I wrote my last line:
And, Maia, twelve steps. One for each day I’ve been gone.
A deep voice startled me. “Do you often make conversation with yourself?”
Stuffing my letter into my pocket, I lurched up and almost fell into the pond. I knew without turning around that it was the Lord Enchanter. His voice was growing familiar to me.
“I see you’ve survived another round,” he said when I faced him. He wore black yet again—a good color for skulking in the shadows and catching people unaware.
“It would have been a shame if you’d been sent home,” he continued. “Lucky for you, I decided to interfere.”
I bit back a retort. It was true, he had helped me. Remembering his rank, I bent my back into a stiff bow and said, as politely as I could muster, “Thank you, sir.”
“Bowing?” He eyed me. “Someone must have told you who I am. Pity. Now you’re as formal and boring as the rest, and calling me sir.”
“I do not know how else to address you.”
His mouth set into a wry smile. “My full name would be too complicated for you to pronounce. You may call me Edan.”
“Edan,” I repeated. The name sounded foreign on my tongue.
He made a slight bow. “I serve as His Imperial Majesty’s resident Lord Enchanter. To the West, I am known as His Most Illustrious; to the East, I am His Most Illuminating; and in every other corner of the world, I am His Most Formidable.”
I drew in a sharp breath. What had Sendo told me about sorcerers? All I could remember was that they served kings all over the world, and they drank the blood of young girls.
Finlei had always scoffed at such tales, but the thought made me shiver.
Have courage, Maia, I reminded myself. If Edan wanted a young girl, he’d have plenty to choose from in the palace.
Besides, the man I saw looked far too young to have traveled the world. I was sure his boasts were hot air and nothing else.
“I’ve never heard of you,” I muttered.
Edan laughed. “You’re skeptical. That’s wise. But odd coming from one so young.”
“My brother told me fairy tales of magic when he…” I couldn’t bring myself to say was alive.