The emperor wanted everything perfect in order to meet the high standard of Estengarde, a country that thought itself more refined than us, even if Riaznin was four times larger and had a culture more tested by time.
When Valko decreed that every nobleman was to shave his beard to conform to the smooth-skinned Esten fashion, I could have swept their dropped jaws from the floor. And it didn’t escape my notice that Anton—who had been clean-shaven until the decree—began to sprout a shadow of stubble on his chin.
On the night the emissary was due to arrive, there was to be a grand ball. In order to spare more time for dancing and give the emissary a chance to freshen up from his journey, the emperor requested that his nobles feast in their own lodgings beforehand.
At last the day of the ball came, but the nobles’ elation only made me tremble harder with panic and dread. The thought of being present in a large room, packed from wall to wall with agitated people, would test my meager skills to their limits.
That morning, when Pia appeared with her tray, she was full of talk about a private banquet the emperor had ordered for the emissary in his guest rooms. Valko would not meet the Esten—a man named Floquart de Bonpré—until that evening, but he wanted him well fed with the finest Riaznian delicacies.
Luckily I’d risen early because of the energy buzzing about the palace and slid the box bed back to hide the red, flowered door. I’d spent the last two nights sleeping in the tapestry room, but hadn’t disturbed Anton again. I didn’t dare. His closed-off aura was more pronounced than ever. I wondered how long he could maintain his practice of deep meditation, what letters he might be writing, what the book with the pale-blue binding contained, and above all else, what he might be up to tonight. He could not have known all those months ago that Morva’s Eve would fall on the day the emperor would hold such a festivity—a festivity that not only promised to test my ability, but also make me miserable with starvation.
“What do you mean you’ve brought me no breakfast?” I asked Pia. My stomach was a tight ball of nerves. Some people abstained from food when they were anxious; I, on the other hand, became ravenous. If Pia were to produce a meat pie from her apron pocket, I might have swallowed it whole, deathly aura and all.
Her mouth quirked at me. “No lady eats before a ball. I’ve brought you a special tea steeped in herbs to ensure you’re well dehydrated before the dancing begins.”
I frowned. “Why would I want that?”
“To dance?”
“No, to shrivel up like a dried fig!”
She laughed. “Oh, Sonya, please don’t tell me you’ve never been to a ball.”
I folded my arms. “Yes, as a matter of fact, we held them regularly at the convent. Each Auraseer took a twirl with a sestra.” I’d never been so sardonic with Pia, but I couldn’t help it. No food? My body leeched of water? No wonder women had fainting spells.
My maid laughed harder, her hands clutching her sides. I realized too late I’d made a joke at the expense of all the people I’d left dead in Ormina. With lowered eyes, I cast a glance at the statue of the goddess, Feya, on my windowsill.
“There will be hundreds of ladies in attendance tonight,” she said. “How many chamber pots do you think we have in the palace? How many maids to unlace all those corsets?”
I sat back stiffly. “I will not be wearing a corset.”
“No.” Pia considered me. “But you will be required to attend the emperor at a celebration that is sure to last until the middle of the night.” She reached across the table and set my tea in front of me. “Trust me on this. You’ll thank me later.”
Reluctantly, I took a sip of the bitter drink and grimaced. Pia gave a satisfied smile. She leaned back and pulled an embroidered pillow to her chest, wrapping her arms around it. With a dreamy sigh, she said, “Yuri will be standing guard in the ballroom tonight, looking fine in his brushed regimentals. What I’d give to wear silk and dance in his arms.” She played with the fringe of the pillow, lost in her own imaginings.
Forgetting the rumbling in my stomach, I touched her arm. “At least you’ll be able to see him.” Even without a public feast, surely the emperor would provide his guests with refreshments and require his serving maids in attendance. “That’s something, right?” I knew Pia’s moments with Yuri were fleeting, stolen from their busy days if they were lucky enough to cross paths.
“I suppose.” She picked at a stray thread.
My heart went out to her and the rare melancholy in her aura. Since Pia and I had begun our reading sessions together, she’d returned to her bright and contented self. And her cheerfulness intensified as she mastered every consonant and vowel in the alphabet. I’d never been more proud. Tosya would have shared in my delight to watch my friend learn so adeptly, as he had taken it upon himself to be my reading teacher among the Romska. Pia even stumbled through an entire page of the Armless Maiden story without my assistance.