That was my main worry. I bit my lip. “I’ll do my best.”
“Norbu hasn’t even started,” she told me. “I went to bring him lunch, and he wasn’t there.”
I swallowed, knowing why Norbu had yet to work on his dress. “Do you know where he’s gone?”
“No, but no one is to leave the palace today. Lord Xina has returned. The emperor is not happy about the visit—the gates are closed until he departs.”
“I see. Thank you, Ammi. You’ve been more helpful than you know.”
Ammi’s shoulders heaved, the way mine always did when there was something on my mind that should be kept there. “I saw the Lord Enchanter watching you during the challenge,” she blurted. “Why didn’t you tell me—” She bit her lip. “I would have understood, but I assumed…”
“You think I’m with Edan?” I didn’t know whether to be horrified or amused. “The Lord Enchanter?”
“I won’t tell,” she said quickly. “It explains so much, anyway.” She cleared her throat, looking very red. “He’d always flirt with the maids, but I always wondered why he never chased any of them. Heaven knows they’ve thrown themselves at him.”
I started to tell her that she was out of her mind to think I was involved in some forbidden romance with Edan, but then I stopped. If Ammi thought me a boy who wasn’t interested in girls, we could be friends. I desperately wanted a friend in the palace.
“He is very handsome,” I admitted, a little startled to realize it wasn’t a lie. I pursed my lips. What else could I say about Edan? He was tall and lean, not as warriorlike as the emperor, but he looked just as strong. No, I couldn’t say that! I couldn’t comment on his eyes, either, on their ever-changing colors.
“He looks out for you,” Ammi said with a giggle. “You’re blushing.”
“Am not!” I said. Eager to change the subject, I raised my sketch of Lady Sarnai’s dress again. “Now tell me, as a girl who’s grown up watching the court, would a lady of Lady Sarnai’s station prefer wider sleeves or sleeves that come off the shoulder like what’s in fashion in the West now…?”
Ammi stayed until she was missed, giving me advice on what the ladies in court wore and on what might please Lady Sarnai. After she left, I sewed until the blisters on my fingers burst and I had to bandage them. I would need the scissors to complete the task in time.
I fluttered a sheet of sapphire silk onto my table and then reached for the scissors—the light reflected from the blades and shimmered against the walls behind me. As I raised them, they began to glow.
* * *
• • •
Only after I steamed and pressed my dress and carried it to Lady Sarnai’s apartments did I realize I had barely eaten or slept in days.
I wasn’t hungry or tired, though. Only anxious.
Norbu was already there, his dress mounted on a wooden mannequin. He’d chosen a heavier silk; from afar it almost looked like velvet, a deep burgundy the color of blood. As always, every piece of the dress was beautiful—the blouse trimmed with black fur along the collar, the sash beaded with drops of carved scarlet lacquer and jade, and the skirt embroidered with gold phoenixes sweeping up its skillfully draped folds. But my dress was stunning.
I was covering my work with a sheet to protect it from the sun when, from the corner of my eye, I saw Norbu stop to greet me.
He kicked at the skirts. “Not bad for a boy with a broken hand,” he said, touching my forearm.
I jerked. “Get away from me.”
His lips puckered, but he let me go. Lady Sarnai, Edan, and Minister Lorsa had arrived. Where was the emperor?
I glanced at Edan, but his gaze was on my dress. Was that a smile on his lips?
I looked away, my eye catching sight of a teapot on one of Lady Sarnai’s side tables. I hoped I wouldn’t need to pour it over Norbu’s dress to unmask his illusion. It seemed clear that mine was better.
“Master Norbu,” Lady Sarnai said, “your dress is one that my mother would have worn.”
She moved to my corner of the room. How could she be so graceful while also so cruel? I couldn’t help admiring her as much as I disliked her.
I lifted the sheet covering my dress and heard a few sharp intakes of breath from Lady