Mask of Shadows (Untitled #1)(22)

Tutoring would be a rest—time to gather my thoughts and learn what all the fuss was about with the nobles.

I tried to think during archery, mapping out the buildings and paths between me and my room, but with each shift of my feet and draw of the bow, my thoughts and fingers shuddered away from my control. Emerald clucked her tongue at me.

“You won’t hit anything shaking like that.” She slid a finger down my bow, steadying my aim and moving it toward where she’d pointed. “You can’t even fully draw it.”

I pulled my elbow back. “Not yet.”

“Not soon,” she said as she wandered away, already uninterested and focused on Five’s form.

His feet were wrong today. His arms were perfect.

He was definitely an archer and definitely faking.

By the time we got to sword work, I could barely grip the hilt and Ruby was having none of it.

“Harder! Tighter grip.” He beckoned me forward and blocked my lunge. “You’re locking your wrist. Your arm is too tight. You won’t be able to move fast enough.”

He attacked before I could move. He ripped the sword from my hands and twisted around, sending Eleven’s sword flying. Two, Four, Five, and Fifteen—who’d shown up sporting a black eye and a limp—shifted around us in a circle. Ruby brandished his sword at Eleven and me.

“Pick them up.” Ruby pinched what would’ve been the bridge of his nose if his mask had one. “Face each other. Eleven attacks first and Twenty-Three blocks. If either of you drops your sword before we’re done, you’re disqualified. Don’t be predictable, but be consistent.”

Eleven picked up her sword. I knelt, tearing off my glove and coating my hand in dust to help my grip. We stepped across from each other.

“Raise.”

Eleven lifted her sword. She couldn’t kill me, not outright while everyone watched, but training was wearing me down. After archery, my arms were all lead joints and shaky muscles. The end-of-day bells had to chime soon. Ruby couldn’t keep us forever.

“One.”

I whipped my sword to my right thigh, point down with the back of my hand bared to Eleven. Her blade smacked mine near the hilt.

The shock rattled up my arm.

“Two.”

Eleven pulled her arm back—too far, too slow—and I held my position. Her blade swung for my lower left side, and I rammed mine into hers as she nicked my leggings. Her arm ricocheted back.

But she held.

Ruby’s third call never came. Eleven looked first—Ruby had the other auditioners paired off and was lazily circling them. I lunged for Eleven.

She backtracked. I lunged again. She blocked, blades scraping down each other. I couldn’t kill her and she couldn’t kill me, but there were a dozen ways to make life terrible without killing someone. I drew my knife with my other hand, darting forward one last time.

I ran my knife down her sword arm.

Eleven shrieked. Her fingers loosened, and Ruby turned, red light blinding in the evening sun. The bells rang.

Eleven’s sword clattered to the ground between us.

“Acceptable.” Ruby collected the swords from the others, pausing before Eleven and me. “But slow.”

Eleven exhaled. “I’m still in?”

“Yes.” Ruby shook his head. “Hardly. You two are awful.”

I sheathed my knife. “Working on it.”

“Of course you are but so is everyone else. And the ones who don’t have to work on it? I love people I don’t even have to talk to.” Ruby cocked his head toward the fading bells. “Love dinner even more, and you two are keeping me from it.”

Eleven and I walked side by side to the dining hall with Ruby’s red gaze on our backs. Eleven fidgeted with each step—nails picking at the shallow gash. I steered clear of her.

She turned toward the dorms, and Ruby vanished down some side hall. I slipped into the dining hall with the willowy servant, Dimas, and smoothed a hand down my dress, leaving a trail of grime behind me. If they were testing me to see how well I did with nobles, they should’ve let me bathe first. I opened the door to the nook.

“Hello,” a soft voice said. “I suppose enough propriety to knock is too much to ask?”

I dropped into a bow, words failing and my gaze stuck on the pretty, stormy girl I’d robbed seven days ago.





Fourteen


At least the bow was low and long enough to be proper. Probably. I’d lost all ability to move.

“You may sit.” She smiled, dark gaze settling on the mask covering my face. The face she didn’t know, couldn’t know. “Etiquette tutoring comes later, and we don’t have time to waste if you’re to learn anything today.”

I swallowed. There were days and masks between us, and she didn’t recognize me.

“Thank you.” I cleared my throat. She was only some lady I’d robbed, and there were plenty of them in the world. Couldn’t get disqualified for that. “For agreeing to this.”

She laughed softly. “I was asked by Our Queen to share my knowledge. No need to thank me.”

Of course she didn’t agree to it. Erlends always thought they were smarter and better read than anyone else—kept enough records to drown the nation in paper—and hoarded all their knowledge.