“Did you get lost on your way back from the washroom?”
“No, sir,” she said, adding a hint of breathlessness to her voice. “I saw the candles were burning low and stopped to extinguish them.”
“Is that not servants’ work, Enke Jandersdat?”
“Please, call me Mila.”
Brum peered down at her in the gloom. “That would not be entirely proper.”
How the Fjerdans loved their propriety, but she had started to wonder if they loved to make their rules simply for the thrill of breaking them.
“Forgive me,” she said, dropping into an unnecessarily deep curtsy. “I meant no offense. I’m afraid my country manners have displeased you.”
Brum placed his finger beneath her chin, but he was gentle this time as he bid her stand and tilted her face upward. “Not at all. I find them refreshing. You’ll learn to navigate the company of your betters in time.”
Nina lowered her eyes. “If I am lucky enough to have cause to.”
Brum studied her. “I leave tomorrow morning, but I often pass back through G?fvalle to make sure the munitions factory is running smoothly.” And to oversee your experiments, Nina thought with a flash of rage. “I look forward to seeing how Hanne’s lessons progress.”
“I do not have a permanent position here,” Nina said, wringing her hands. “I’m not sure how long the Wellmother will tolerate my presence.”
Brum placed his hand over hers, and she stilled. “Such a nervous little thing. The Wellmother will always have a place for you if I say so.”
Nina looked up at him with every bit of awe she could muster. She clasped his hand tightly. “Thank you, sir,” she said fervently. “Thank you.”
They rejoined Hanne in the dining room to say their goodbyes.
As soon as her father was gone, Hanne sagged against the wall in relief. “Thank Djel that’s over. Did you get what you needed?”
Nina held up the blob of warm candle wax she’d pressed against Brum’s signet ring to form a perfect impression of his seal. “I did. The rest is up to you.”
Adrik had been right about the problem of entering the factory. Even with Brum’s seal on a military order, there was no way the guards at the eastern entrance would ever release the women and girls without a convincing Fjerdan soldier in charge.
Hanne did not get out of bed the next morning, claiming that the rich food of the previous night’s dinner hadn’t agreed with her.
The Wellmother had little patience for it. “Our duties do not include seeing to a pampered girl with a fragile stomach.”
“Of course, Wellmother,” Hanne agreed. “Enke Jandersdat can look after me.” Then she’d bent over the side of the bed and vomited.
The Wellmother pressed her sleeve to her nose to ward against the smell. “Fine. Let her empty your sick bucket and clean up your mess.”
“Perhaps Leoni’s emetic worked a little too well,” Nina said as soon as they were alone together, the door firmly closed.
Hanne moaned and flopped back on her pillows, looking distinctly green. Nina sat down on the bed and held a fizzing glass vial to Hanne’s lips. “Here, this will help. Leoni is just as good at tonics as emetics.”
“I hope so,” said Hanne.
Nina cleaned up the sickroom while Hanne rested, then made her eat some plain bread and an egg. “You’ll need your strength.”
Hanne propped herself up in bed, shoving a pillow behind her back. She’d left her hair unbraided in a rosy brown tumble around her shoulders, and Nina had the urge to twine one of the thick curls around her finger.
“I don’t know if I can do this,” said Hanne. “I’ve never tried to tailor anything before.”
Nina parted the curtains to let in as much sunlight as possible. Hanne’s room was on the second story, so they didn’t have to worry about prying eyes. “It’s just another way to manipulate the body.”
“You’ve seen it done?”
“Just once,” lied Nina. Her entire face and body had been tailored to be totally unrecognizable. She’d even tried her hand at it a few times.
“What if I can’t put it back once I’ve done it?”
“Then we’ll find someone who can,” she promised. Even if I have to drag you to Ravka to manage it. “But I really don’t think it will be a problem. You’re only going to make very small changes.” Nina sat down in front of Hanne and held up a mirror she’d polished to perfection.
Hanne gazed at herself in the glass. “Where do I start?”
“Let’s try the jaw. We’ll mess with the nose once you get the hang of it. I don’t want you accidentally sealing off a breathing passage.” Hanne’s eyes widened. “I’m kidding!” said Nina. Mostly.
Hanne steadied her breathing and pressed her fingers gently to the left side of her own jaw.
“Focus on the cells of the skin,” said Nina. “Think of the direction you want them to move.”
“This is terrifying,” whispered Hanne as the line of her jaw slowly began to shift.
“More terrifying than the Wellmother when she catches someone having a good time?”
A scrap of a smile curled Hanne’s lips, and she seemed to relax a bit. “Not even close.”
The work took hours as Hanne strengthened her jawline, giving it a squarer shape, then added weight to her brow, and finally broadened her nose. Nina sat curled beside Hanne in the narrow bed, watching her progress in the mirror, offering suggestions and encouragement. Periodically, she would leave the room to retrieve cups of broth and pretend to empty basins, maintaining the illusion that Hanne was still ill.
At last it was time for the final touch.
“Are you sure?” Nina said, holding the thick, ruddy tresses of Hanne’s hair. They were shot through with gold and felt cool and silken in her hands, like fast-running water. “We could just tuck it under your cap.”
“I’m not going to jeopardize this whole plan for the sake of my vanity.” She squeezed her eyes shut. “Do it.”
It felt like a crime to cut such magnificent hair, but Nina took up the shears and sliced through the thick strands. She finished the job with the razor, cropping Hanne’s hair close to the skull in the way of the Fjerdan military. Only drüskelle kept their hair long. When Hanne had tailored her face back to its original state, she could claim that shaving her hair had been a penance to Djel.
Nina tidied up the hair, gathering it all in a basin, and then tossed it into the garbage, making sure it was well buried. When she returned, she found Hanne sitting on her bed, staring into the mirror, tears in her eyes.
“Don’t cry,” Nina said, shutting the door behind her and rushing to Hanne’s side. “It will grow back. I promise.”
“It’s not that,” Hanne said, gazing at her face. A boy was looking back at her. The jaw, the brow, the nose, a roughening of the skin of her cheeks to make it look as if she’d shaved. They were small changes, but the effect was startling. “If I had just been a boy. If I had been the son my father wanted …”
Nina gripped Hanne’s shoulders. “You are perfect, Hanne. That your father can’t value your strength speaks only to his weakness.”