Spin the Dawn(43)

“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 Sarnai’s maids. “It’s marvelous,” they whispered to one another.

“Have you ever seen anything so spectacular?”

“All the ladies in court will want one just like it.”

I leaned on my cane, drinking in their praise. For the hundredth time, I tried to look at my dress objectively and find a reason for Lady Sarnai to reject it. I couldn’t think of any.

My dress was a soft pearlescent blue, one of the many shades of the sea Sendo had taught me to see as a girl. The outer layer, a short robe wrapped under a sash fastened by a silver cord, was a richer sapphire, the long sleeves embroidered with tiny rose blossoms and soaring cranes with magnificent white wings. On the skirts were opal-petaled water lilies and golden fish swimming in a silvery pool above the hem embellished with seed pearls and layers of lace, like ripples of water.

For an empress, I was sure all would agree mine was more appropriate than Norbu’s. Certainly, more beautiful by far.

I exhaled, sure I had finally beaten him.

“Very fine work,” Lady Sarnai murmured. “Master Tamarin, truly you’ve outdone yourself.”

Her face was soft, almost kind. Was she in a better mood now that Lord Xina was here?

“Alas,” she said, “this trial must come to an end. Both Master Tamarin and Master Norbu are skilled beyond measure, but I feel one would serve me better than the other.” The softness dissolved, and she sent a sharp glance at Minister Lorsa.

The eunuch clasped his hands and announced, “Master Norbu has won the position.”

My knees buckled, and blood rushed to my ears, making my heart pound in my head. What? After everything that had happened, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t fail Baba and Keton, not like this.

“H-he can’t win,” I stammered. “Master Norbu’s dress is an illusion.”

Before anyone could stop me, I reached for Lady Sarnai’s pot of tea and splashed its contents at Norbu’s dress.

The dress wilted, the rich burgundy fading as the texture of the silk thinned and roughened. Slowly, the fur and beading disappeared, and the gold phoenixes shriveled until they were threadbare, leaving behind little more than a sheath of white silk sewn into the form of a dress.

“Well, there we have it,” Edan said, a beat after Minister Lorsa sniffed with disbelief. “Magic, and a rather poor display of one at that. Master Tamarin is the more skilled tailor. That is clear to all.”

Lady Sarnai crossed her arms, her lips curling into a tight grimace. “Regardless, I prefer Master Norbu’s service.”

“But, Your Highness,” Edan said thinly, “we all know how strongly you feel about the use of enchantment.”

“This is my decision,” she insisted. “The emperor and I agreed upon this in the truce.”

“His Majesty and your father agreed you could select a tailor,” said Edan sharply, “not a spy. Master Norbu, I take it, was more compliant than Master Tamarin in accepting your terms.”