“Use discretion.” Ruby splayed his hands over the broken table, head tilted toward me. “Your first test was about physicality. This one was about subtlety. Your last one will require both. Only those capable of the two will succeed.”
“For lack of a better phrase, you are the best auditioners.” Amethyst was rigid under her armor. “Though you have arrived here sooner than expected.”
No doubt—Four, Eleven, and Fifteen would’ve been safe if Eleven had thought through her plan.
“Whether that is through your own skill or the skill of others, it doesn’t matter.” Ruby twisted to look at us each in turn. “We prefer shorter auditions because they are more efficient.” He gestured to me. “And unless you think Twenty-Three is a better Opal than you, his presence here is of no consequence.”
That smacked the smile off my face.
“As such, we must bring the auditions to a pause,” said Ruby. “Right now, your goal is no longer to eliminate the competition. It’s to do exactly as we say when we say it. Your servants will be briefed, and at dinner tonight, we will provide you with your final test. You will succeed, or you will forfeit your place in the Left Hand.”
At least I wouldn’t have to worry about Five creeping through my door and putting a knife in my neck.
Probably.
“Further rules will be provided over dinner.” Emerald shoved the door out of her way, voice still quietly angry. “Make no attempts on each other’s lives and set up no traps. Your rooms have been cleaned and baths drawn with special soap. Use it. Your servants will dispose of your clothes. Five, with me.”
Ruby and Emerald swept out of the room, the crowd of servants outside the door scattering, and Five followed. Amethyst looked around the destroyed table.
“It would be best if you ate and rested. The audition is designed to test you and wear you down. We must know how you act under exhaustion and pressure. You should be proud of yourselves for getting here, but it isn’t over yet. There is still much to do.”
She left us in silence.
Thirty-Five
I collapsed over a chair, laughing into my mask, heart bursting at the muffled sound I’d grown used to.
“How’d you last?” Two turned to me, hands shaking. She was young, younger than me by maybe a year, and bone-tired by the shadows under her eyes. Blood dotted the whites. “Four’s a better fighter than you. We all are.”
Were better fighters. Lady help Two when that fact hit her.
“So far as you know.” I salvaged a cup of water from the unpoisoned pitcher and took a sip. “I’ve been fighting for years.”
She made an odd sound in the back of her throat. “He thought you were only a thief. Death doesn’t settle well when you’re not used to it.”
Erlend forced me to be used to it. “Says the circus performers.”
“And look how well we fared.” She opened her arms wide and shot me a funeral smile. “See you at dinner.”
“See you at dinner.”
She wasn’t handling this well.
“Twenty-Three?” Maud appeared at my elbow. She was perfectly Maud again. Every hair was in place and her face showed the emotionless passivity all servants had, but she’d bitten her nails to the quick. “If you’d like to go to your room?”
“I’d love to.”
Maud didn’t speak, didn’t even look at me, till she shut the door to my room. I sat on the bed, ripping off my coat. Elise’s ink crinkled on my arms.
“The bath is hot. Don’t soak your stitches.”
I flashed Maud a weak smile. Trusting people was nice—no wasting thoughts on second-guessing. “Thanks.”
I sunk into the bath behind the screen, and Maud fiddled around the room, washing my mask in a small basin and hanging it up. I kept my inked arms out of the water and crawled into bed still damp, laughing as Maud left with a huff. I fell asleep to the midmorning sun slipping through the slats above me.
I awoke to the sounds of clattering plates, mouth dry as cotton and head filled with sand. I rolled onto my stomach.
“Time?” My voice cracked, and my shirt clung to the fresh salve on my side. “You change my bandages?”
“Early evening—and yes.” Maud pulled me up into a sitting position and pressed a tin cup into my hands. “We need to talk about dinner.”
I glanced at the tray of food filling my room with the savory scents of browned onions and olives. “Looks good.”
“Not this. The real one.” She rose and crossed to the clothes in the corner. “You’re meeting with the Left Hand, and Two’s servant, Catia, was prepping an elaborate outfit in the washing rooms.”
I sipped the tea. The tang of lemon snapped me awake and warmed me from the inside out. The ink on my arms had dulled to storm gray. “What am I supposed to do? Steal a nice outfit before dinner?”
“Play to your strengths.” Maud set the tray onto my lap. “I washed the clothes you wore here, but I wouldn’t suggest wearing them tonight. Or ever again.”
“For the best.” I traced the lip print on my palm. “What are Two and Five wearing?”
She wrinkled her nose. “Catia had a leather uniform with bracers. Dinah didn’t bother washing Five’s clothes before tonight, and officer’s uniforms always dye the water blue anyway. They’re only for parties. Completely useless.”
I speared a boiled egg with my knife. Of course Five was an officer. He’d been trained with a spear, sword, and bow since childhood, and killing came easy when it was all you knew. The war was still alive but in skirmishes and courts. Unrest was rampant in the north where the lords who’d ruled Erlend still loomed. He’d grown up thinking civilians were the enemy.
Such a surprise.
“I was going to enlist, you know.” I plucked up an olive and squished it between my teeth. “But I’d have been a foot soldier. Nothing fancy.”
She sighed, spirals of steam from the food flushing her cheeks. “My orphanage sells work contracts to the highest bidder. You can’t leave till you work enough to pay back the bid.”
“Five pearls are enough to keep four fed and housed.” I tucked into the meal and offered her a slice of bread. She shook her head. “So how many orphans you trying to buy?”
“Three.” She picked at her nails and took a deep breath. “My mother died when my siblings were born—triplets—and the orphanage will sell their contracts to whoever needs a servant soon as they turn nine. I have to buy them first.”
That would do it. No wonder she liked rules after living in an orphanage and being responsible for a trio of toddlers.
“That’s it though.” She stood and walked toward the door, fixing me with a stare.
“How about your name for mine?” I asked. It wasn’t worth asking what she meant about papers. She must’ve lied about her age when they took her in so she could get out and buy her way out sooner. “Our real ones?”
She paused.
“Knowing my face could do more harm than me knowing your name.” I tapped my nose.
“Maud de Pavo.” She smiled at me over her shoulder. “And your face was more punishment than privilege.”