“She despises everyone,” Edan said, more cheerfully.
I frowned at how casually he took my news. “She told me demons are fallen enchanters.”
“Are you worried about me now, Maia?” Edan laughed. “There’s nothing to fear. I’m in no danger of becoming a demon, I can assure you. And I’m far more powerful than any demon the shansen could recruit.”
For once, I took heart in his arrogance. I wanted to believe him, so I did.
“Be careful, Maia,” he said quietly. The sudden change in his tone startled me. “Lady Sarnai will know you’ve betrayed her trust. I’d care if something happened to you.”
I didn’t like how tongue-tied I suddenly became. I raised a brow and echoed, “You’d care?”
Edan drew back. “Yes,” he said, airily now. “Girl or not, you’re a very talented tailor. And you have some aptitude for magic. Enough that I feel somewhat responsible for you.”
I rolled my eyes. “You know, she reminds me of you.”
Edan frowned, as if I’d mortally insulted him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Both of you enjoy mocking others. She uses this trial as a way of insulting Emperor Khanujin, and you—you enjoy—”
“I do not mock the emperor,” said Edan. “Ever.”
You mock me, I thought.
“If Lady Sarnai and I have anything in common, it’s that we have little say in our futures. She uses her frustration to undermine the betrothal, and I use my boredom to study.”
“Study what?”
His sharp eyes focused on me. “People who interest me.”
“You don’t seem like someone who would be interested in a sewing contest.”
“I wasn’t,” he said, “until I saw those scissors of yours.”
I already knew what he was going to say. “I won’t use them, Edan—”
“It isn’t cheating.”
“Lady Sarnai hates magic.”
“Given the choice between two tailors using magic, she should choose the one who uses it better. Your scissors reflect your skill; Norbu’s paint doesn’t. And you’re not here for the same reason as the others. Longhai, Norbu, Yindi—they’ve sought the position for glory. You—you want to restore honor to your family’s name. And I suppose you want to prove to yourself that you can be as good as any man.”
I did. Though I lacked the courage to say it aloud.
“But thank you for warning me about Lady Sarnai,” Edan said. “I appreciate it.”
His sincerity took me slightly aback. “Don’t presume that I did it because we’re friends.”
“Enchanters don’t have friends,” Edan said, clearing his throat. I got the sense he’d revealed something he hadn’t wanted to. “Good night, Mistress Tamarin.”
“Master,” I called after him. He was going to be the doom of me one day. I just knew it.
* * *
• • •
The door to my room should not have been ajar. I was always careful to close it, especially since I was not privileged enough to have a lock. I pushed my way inside, heart pounding. Something was wrong.
The few possessions I’d brought with me were flung carelessly over my bed—my sketches, the letter I’d received from home, and Baba’s scissors among them. I almost wished the intruder were a thief, but the reality was much worse.
Norbu.
“Get out,” I told him coldly.
He gave me a false, cheerful smile. “And why would I want to do that?” he taunted. “A pity you didn’t burn in the hall. How is that hand of yours, by the way? Did the Lord Enchanter heal it for you?” He brushed his fingers across my pillow. “How did you pay him for his services?”
It was all I could do not to punch him. “Get out,” I said again.
Norbu didn’t move. “Do you know the price for lying to the emperor?” he said slowly, as if reveling in each word. “Your bones would be picked apart one by one, your eyes clawed out by ravens while you’re alive.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His smile widened. “You run well for someone with a lame leg, young Tamarin, given your injuries from the war.”
My breath caught in my throat. “I don’t—”
“Something about you has always seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out what,” Norbu interrupted. “I never heard of Old Master Tamarin having a son with such skill as yours. So I made some inquiries. Your father lost two sons to the Five Winters’ War. Only a crippled son survived. No one could tell me about his skill with the needle, so I left it at that…until our encounter the other night. I spied you running across the hall, and it gave me pause. The pieces didn’t come together immediately, but then