Burning Glass (Burning Glass, #1)(54)
I frowned. “Why would I want that?”
“To dance?”
“No, to shrivel up like a dried fig!”
She laughed. “Oh, Sonya, please don’t tell me you’ve never been to a ball.”
I folded my arms. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we held them regularly at the convent. Each Auraseer took a twirl with a sestra.” I’d never been so sardonic with Pia, but I couldn’t help it. No food? My body leeched of water? No wonder women had fainting spells.
My maid laughed harder, her hands clutching her sides. I realized too late I’d made a joke at the expense of all the people I’d left dead in Ormina. With lowered eyes, I cast a glance at the statue of the goddess, Feya, on my windowsill.
“There will be hundreds of ladies in attendance tonight,” she said. “How many chamber pots do you think we have in the palace? How many maids to unlace all those corsets?”
I sat back stiffly. “I will not be wearing a corset.”
“No.” Pia considered me. “But you will be required to attend the emperor at a celebration that is sure to last until the middle of the night.” She reached across the table and set my tea in front of me. “Trust me on this. You’ll thank me later.”
Reluctantly, I took a sip of the bitter drink and grimaced. Pia gave a satisfied smile. She leaned back and pulled an embroidered pillow to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. With a dreamy sigh, she said, “Yuri will be standing guard in the ballroom tonight, looking fine in his brushed regimentals. What I’d give to wear silk and dance in his arms.” She played with the fringe of the pillow, lost in her own imaginings.
Forgetting the rumbling in my stomach, I touched her arm. “At least you’ll be able to see him.” Even without a public feast, surely the emperor would provide his guests with refreshments and require his serving maids in attendance. “That’s something, right?” I knew Pia’s moments with Yuri were fleeting, stolen from their busy days if they were lucky enough to cross paths.
“I suppose.” She picked at a stray thread.
My heart went out to her and the rare melancholy in her aura. Since Pia and I had begun our reading sessions together, she’d returned to her bright and contented self. And her cheerfulness intensified as she mastered every consonant and vowel in the alphabet. I’d never been more proud. Tosya would have shared in my delight to watch my friend learn so adeptly, as he had taken it upon himself to be my reading teacher among the Romska. Pia even stumbled through an entire page of the Armless Maiden story without my assistance.
“Imagine Yuri’s surprise,” I said, “when you’re able to read him a love sonnet—or better yet, write one yourself.”
A twinge of a grin teased her mouth, but didn’t remain. I sighed, wishing I could trade places with Pia. Then we’d both be happier. She could be at the center of a ball she longed to go to, and I could hide away on its outskirts.
Trying once again to lift her spirits, I presented an alternative solution. “With so many guests and so much commotion, I doubt anyone will notice one maid and one guard slip away for a few minutes. There must be some abandoned corridor where you two can share a private dance.”
Those words did the trick. Pia turned to me, eyes sparkling. Her lips curved with a radiant smile. “You’re brilliant, Sonya!” She kissed my cheek. “You deserve an extra hour of my ‘highly sought-after training.’” Her dimples caved. “You might even be able to win our game.” She referred to her favorite method of strengthening my ability. Now that she was gaining confidence as a reader, she had advanced from studying illustrations to silently reading snippets from tragic histories, while I tried once more to guess at the content by discerning her emotional and physical responses. “Let’s hope Vladimir the Terrible doesn’t drown in a pool of his own vomit the next time we study,” she said.
I held up my hands. “That was your fault. It’s never a good idea to gorge oneself on pastries before tucking into a nice story.”
Pia gave a light shrug. “An unfortunate hazard of my occupation. Besides, they were hazelnut pastries. Irresistible!” She rose from the couch and smoothed her apron. “I should get going before Lenka catches us enjoying ourselves.” She rolled her eyes. “And now that you and I have reminisced over the finer points of retching, make sure to drink up your tea.”
I groaned, which made her giggle. Pia glided to the doorway on pointed toes. “I’ll wink at you from across the ballroom tonight. I’ll be the one emitting waves of love,” she dramatically declared, laughing at herself. She blew me a kiss and danced her way out the door.
I grinned with the lingering, sweet spell of her aura. Even a second sip of the tea didn’t sour my mood. But Lenka did. She marched in on the tail of Pia’s exit. I braced myself for an hour of callous remarks and sneers. However, none of her usual irritation was evident. I relaxed somewhat and tested her emotions for her changed mood and the triumphant way she held her head on her matchstick neck. Without a word, Lenka lifted me to my feet. At a clap of her hands, my other attending maids entered, each bearing a box tied with silver ribbon.
“What’s all this?” I asked warily.
“New robes.” Lenka’s nostrils flared with pride. “Commissioned by His Imperial Majesty, Our Lord Emperor himself.”