Spin the Dawn(29)

Lady Sarnai picked on me next. “The Lord Enchanter is such an enigmatic creature. What secrets simmer beneath that vile countenance, I wonder. Master Tamarin, I understand the two of you have become acquainted.”

I opened my mouth to protest.

But Lady Sarnai went on: “It would be wise to stay away from him. Magic is the art of demons, no matter how the Lord Enchanter denies it. And as you know, any outside assistance is forbidden in the trial.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Good.” A sigh escaped her, and for a moment she looked quite miserable. But that cold mask returned, and she said, “I’ll leave you all to work.”

I did not enjoy depluming the dead falcon, but the other tailors seemed to have no problems with the task. Longhai worked swiftly and was already arranging the feathers around his worktable. I heard snipping sounds from Norbu’s side of the room and couldn’t help but cringe every time his blades cut.

Not long after Lady Sarnai left, Minister Lorsa appeared. “Kneel!” he barked at us, and we immediately dashed to the center of the room and touched our foreheads to the floor.

“What’s going on?” I whispered to Longhai.

I had my answer before the old man could reply.

Emperor Khanujin had arrived.

The warmth of that first time I’d seen him washed over me once again. Only for a fleeting moment did I sense that it was strange, as if I were caught in some sort of spell that muddled my thoughts. I basked in his presence and hoped he would never leave.

“Your Imperial Majesty,” we shouted, “may you live ten thousand years!”

“Ruler of a Thousand Lands,” Lorsa’s voice rang. “Khagan of Kings, Son of Heaven, Favored of Amana, Glorious Sovereign of A’landi.”

The titles went on and on. I didn’t dare look up, not even when the emperor finally spoke.

“Rise.”

I was the last to obey. I unbent my knees and stood, only to see Edan behind the emperor. He tilted his head at my left leg, reminding me it was supposed to be crippled.

As I adjusted my position, I noticed Edan observing the feathers on our tables. The smirk he usually wore turned to a frown, and his arms stiffened at his sides.

“I understand that Her Highness, Lady Sarnai, visited the Hall of Supreme Diligence this morning,” Emperor Khanujin said.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” replied Lorsa. “She had an additional task for the tailors.”

“What was it?”

“She wished to surprise you with a feather sash to wear to your morning prayers.”

Emperor Khanujin regarded Lorsa. “And did you not think to inform Lady Sarnai that it is forbidden to hunt any bird on imperial grounds?”

Lorsa’s face darkened, and he lowered his eyes. “My humblest apologies, Your Majesty,” he babbled, falling on his knees and kissing His Majesty’s feet until he was told to rise.

Cautiously, I looked at the emperor and observed the dozens of jade and gold pendants adorning his neck and sash. One didn’t shine as brilliantly as the rest.

It was bronze, and I made out the outline of a bird engraved on it. No wonder he was unhappy that Lady Sarnai hunted them in his gardens.

“I am grateful for Lady Sarnai’s generosity,” Emperor Khanujin said, addressing us tailors now, “but I have no need for a new ceremonial sash. I wear my father’s, out of respect for the sacrifices he made to unite this country.” He paused. “Reuniting A’landi is now my responsibility. You may find it contrary to tradition that Lady Sarnai is overseeing the selection of the next imperial tailor, but her happiness is of the utmost importance to maintaining the peace of our realm. I trust you will do your best to please her.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I intoned with the rest of the tailors.

“You come from all parts of A’landi, and some of you have journeyed far. I look forward to welcoming one of you into the palace.”

My heart was fluttering so fast I almost didn’t see Edan’s wink as he followed the emperor out.

I shook myself from my trance. There was something strange about Emperor Khanujin. Strange and wonderful, I thought.

Or strange and terrible.



* * *



? ? ?

It was late when I finally left the hall. My fingers were stiff from hours of knitting lace and folding silk ribbon flowers for Lady Sarnai’s jacket, and my mind was swimming from lack of sleep. As I opened the door to my room, all I could think about was collapsing onto my bed and—

I reared back in surprise. My cot was aglow, and the walls seemed to be humming softly.

My magic scissors.

I yanked them out of the bundle under my mattress. Seeing them again, I felt my fingers almost instinctively slipping into the bows. It was so tempting. Lady Sarnai loathed magic, but Longhai had said it wasn’t cheating, and Edan had encouraged me to use them.

I shook my head vigorously. You’re listening to Edan now, Maia? What’s gotten into you?

I needed to get rid of the scissors.

Before I could change my mind, I rewrapped them, took the bundle, and crept out into the gardens. I couldn’t throw them into a well, no matter how much I wished to be rid of them. The scissors had belonged to my grandmother, and Baba had given them to me. Maybe I would bury them—if only for a little while.

I had just passed the magnolia courtyard when I heard a lady weeping. The sound was soft, almost lost amid crickets chirping.