“I failed,” she said miserably, staring at her still red-rimmed eyes. She’d only just stopped crying an hour or so ago.
“I heard, miss.” Dalia’s strokes were gentle and even, helping somewhat to soothe the still-frayed edges of her nerves.
Shayera made sure to keep herself as muted as possible as she dropped her head to her arms, stroking the waxed smoothness of the vanity with her fingertips. “I don’t think I can do this, Dalia,” she whispered beneath her breath. Just the memory of that child still made her breaths shudder through her chest.
“Miss, if I may.” Dalia dropped to her knees, peeking up at Shayera, her smooth ebony skin flawless even through her frown. “Perhaps losing isn’t such a bad thing.”
She sniffed. “Rumpel told me this morning to not lose. And yet my very first test I failed miserably. The worst of it is I’m not even sure how. He wouldn’t even look at me afterward. He just stared straight ahead and when I tried to engage him—”
Sighing, Dalia swept at an errant curl slipping into Shayera’s eye. “I realize you don’t know me well yet, but I like ye. In many ways you remind me of me sister, and so I tell you this with the hopes that you’ll listen. Lose. Every test. Lose them all, Shayera. Believe me when I tell ye these are challenges you do not want to win.”
Eyes wide and nibbling on the corner of her lip, Dalia looked nervous, and that more than anything made Shayera worry even more.
“But what happens if I win? Doesn’t winning mean I get to go home? If I lose, that’s bad. Right?”
Inhaling deeply, Dalia rose to her feet, brushed at her black gown, and shook her head. “Do not ask me those sorts of questions. I’m telling you more than I even should.”
The dull pain in her head continued to throb and she moaned, wishing for a moment that she was four and able to run into her mother’s arms. The only saving grace to this was that whether she failed or won, her father was safe and in the end that was all that mattered.
The other thing was that even though the game had felt so real, it wasn’t. Though her heart still ached with the loss of the child, in reality, there’d been no child. So as much as it hurt, she was okay.
“Tell you what, you need a pick-me-up.”
Scrunching her eyes, she shook her head. “I need bed. I’m tired.”
“No, miss, if I may be so bold…”
Lifting her brow, Shayera waited.
“You’re heartsick and need to take your mind off today’s test. Would you like to smile again?” Dalia’s own was large and gentle.
It was on the tip of her tongue to say no, but the girl was grabbing her hand and tugging.
“Up. C’mon now. I think you’ll like it.” She waggled her brows.
Unable to resist her gentle teasing, Shayera growled an okay. Tonight the wardrobe had given her not just a silk gown but also a robe, and true, there didn’t actually seem to be anyone around other than Dalia, but the way the girl materialized from thin air made Shayera believe they could see her even if she couldn’t see them.
“Fine.” She tightened the golden sash of her hunter-green robe and, slipping on sandals, shrugged. “Take me away.”
“Come then.” Dalia held out her hand and Shayera understood that the maid wanted her to take it.
Still not fully comfortable touching skin to skin, she gritted her teeth, tamped down the charm until it was almost nonexistent, then took Dalia’s hand. A tingling rush of heat slipped through her palm, traveled along her bloodstream, filling and rushing through her body like a wave and making her gasp as a mirage shimmered before her eyes.
In less than a second she was as immaterial as her maid sometimes was. She could think, but she couldn’t speak and desperately wanted to as the sensations of moving through cold stone, hard woods, and diaphanous silks pulsed against her. She was free-floating atoms, nothing more than frenetic cells buzzing and rubbing frantically together. She was everywhere and nowhere. All things and nothing. The sensory overload of blurring colors, scent of sulfur, whistle of rushing air, it was too much.
And then they were there, wherever there was, and she was gasping, sucking sweet flower-scented air into her lungs because she was whole again and she could feel the silk of her gown caress the flesh of her body as she held on to her chest and took just a moment to gather her quivering, nervous self in order.
“You all right, miss?” Dalia patted her back.
She laughed, because if she didn’t she might pass out. “Fine, let’s just never do that again.”