over my victory. I had to please Lady Sarnai. Or else Baba and Keton would die.
I wasn’t looking forward to working with the shansen’s daughter. Then again, she’d already made me craft shoes out of glass, jackets out of paper—and I’d survived.
How bad could another dress be?
My heart beat wildly as I approached the Great Hall of Wonders. The largest audience chamber in the Summer Palace, it spanned a wide courtyard and was several stories tall, the stairs carved with statues of golden birds, elephants, and tigers. Inside were mosaic walls (a gift from A’landi’s friends in Samaran), brilliant vermillion carpets that stretched as far as my eyes could see, windows that glowed with diffused sunlight, and three prominently displayed jade sculptures of the goddess Amana.
Edan cleared his throat, appearing behind me. “I’m happy to see you’re out of that vile place.”
I whirled to face the enchanter. For once, no grin tilted his mouth, no mischief twinkled in his eye. Instead he stood, his arms folded, and fixed me with a solemn look.
I hesitated. “Did you really make everyone forget that I’m a girl?”
He bent his head to the side. “Whatever His Majesty wishes will be done.”
“Just like that?” I frowned. “With a wave of your hand. Or a snap of your fingers.”
Edan shrugged. He looked tired, the area around his eyes weary and dark. I wondered whether the magic he’d cast to make everyone forget I was a girl explained the shadows clinging to his face.
“It’s a bit more complicated than that” was all he would say. Before I could respond, he gestured at the passageway leading to the main chamber. “Come with me.”
I followed nervously, treading across the carpet as if I were moving through a thicket of thorns. I recognized a few faces: Minister Lorsa, Lady Sarnai, and Emperor Khanujin. Lord Xina, who, as Ammi had mentioned, was visiting. The other members of the court were strangers to me: eunuchs, important officials, and one or two foreign dignitaries.
I kept waiting for someone to shout, “She’s a girl! She’s an impostor!” But it was as Edan had promised: no one blinked twice at my name, or at my face.
Still, each step was heavier than the last. When I finally reached the emperor’s throne, I was breathing hard, as if I had walked a hundred miles, not a hundred steps.
“The trial has come to an end,” Emperor Khanujin announced as I knelt before him. “I have decided to award the position of imperial tailor to Keton Tamarin, who will receive a remittance of twenty thousand jens a year.”
Twenty thousand jens a year! For a moment, I let myself revel in knowing that Baba and Keton would never starve again. That now I was a master, one whose skill no one could doubt.
“Rise, Master Tamarin,” continued the emperor. “Now that you serve the Son of Heaven as a tailor of the imperial realm, you are a master of your craft to all.”
I forced a smile as I stood. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
“Thank you, Master Tamarin,” Emperor Khanujin said. His ministers and officials echoed the words. “Lady Sarnai, you asked that I find the most talented tailor in A’landi to sew a wedding garment for you. Master Tamarin is yours to command.”
Lady Sarnai said nothing. Like Edan, she stood beside the emperor’s throne, but she was staring at something—or someone—so hard I thought her gaze might pierce the walls. I could not see who had captured her attention, but I did recognize the man’s voice. It was deep, each word like a growl.
“The shansen wishes to know when the marriage will proceed,” said Lord Xina, “and whether Lady Sarnai’s conditions have been met.”
I tensed, wondering if I’d imagined a note of anguish in his words. How must it feel for him, knowing that Lady Sarnai’s tactics to delay her marriage to the emperor had failed, and that the woman he loved would soon be wed to another man?
“You may report to the shansen that his daughter requests a wedding dress,” the emperor replied tersely, “to be completed by—”
Lady Sarnai suddenly spoke. “There will be three dresses.”
Her gaze left Lord Xina and settled on me. There was a gleam in her eyes that I did not like.
A murmur of terror bubbled in my chest. Slowly, the shansen’s daughter glided down the three steps from the emperor’s throne until she was level with me, so close I could smell the jasmine oil used to perfume her hair. So close I could