I learned from Minister Lorsa that Old Tamarin had another child—” He held up one of my linen chest strips. “A daughter who just happened to work as his seamstress.”
My knees weakened. I wanted to accuse him of lying, but my tongue had turned to lead.
Norbu laughed. “You sew better than most girls. That is the best compliment I’ll give you. Concede the trial, and I won’t say a word to His Majesty about who you really are.”
“Why?” I spat. “Are you afraid you might lose to a woman?”
“No.” Norbu’s face contorted with cruelty. “But after losing two sons, I wonder how your father would cope with the death of his daughter.”
The words twisted an invisible dagger into my gut. “Go on and tell the emperor,” I said, but my voice shook. “And I’ll…I’ll tell how you poisoned Master Huan.”
Norbu let out a cackle. “Longhai’s been telling you stories, eh? You can’t prove it. Neither of you can.”
I curled my fists, hiding a wince when my muscles reminded me they were still healing. “You’re not denying it.”
“It was his time to go. His designs were old, and His Majesty needed a new tailor anyway.”
“That new tailor won’t be you!”
I almost accused him of using magic, but I stopped myself. If I could prove it at the trial, maybe I could send him home.
Laughing, Norbu touched my cheek and pressed his thigh against my leg. “I always thought you were a pretty boy. Perhaps a little kiss?”
I slammed my heel into his toes and slapped him as hard as I could. “I’m warning you,” I said, grabbing my scissors off my bed. I pointed them into his ribs. “Leave. Now.”
Norbu laughed. “Don’t worry. I won’t let your secret out…yet.” He stood at the door, then turned back. “I have some respect for you, even. A pity how far you’ll fall.”
He slipped out and was gone.
The panic that had kept me frozen in place thawed into a tight, hard knot. Trembling, I splashed cold water on my face. Even that didn’t startle the shadows from my heart.
I couldn’t let Norbu win. Even if he knew my secret, I couldn’t be afraid of him.
I would win this final challenge. No matter what it took.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
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.