“I have faith in her abilities, Mother.”
“I dearly hope so, daraem. I have found her of little use so far: slovenly with the housework, slow to learn, but quite skilled at eavesdropping in matters that do not concern her.” The old woman raised her voice. “I expect the outhouses to be clean by the end of the day, Tea. You’d best start immediately if you expect any dinner tonight.”
I scrambled away as fast as I could, lugging my water bucket behind me. At the very least, I thought sourly, she had learned my name.
“Why can’t you just resurrect her?” I asked Lady Mykaela sometime afterward. “Wouldn’t it solve the problem?”
But the woman shook her head. “You forget, Tea, that Dark asha cannot raise those who share the same silver heartsglass as theirs. Whatever the advantages our abilities give, we cannot enjoy them in death.”
“That doesn’t seem fair.”
“Neither is life, girl.”
Already, I was restless. There seemed to be no end in sight as far as my servitude was concerned, and Lady Mykaela’s library, extensive as it was, had no books about asha and Runic magic. Where was the training I was promised, the lessons I would learn to become asha? Sweeping floors and washing dishes may have taught me patience and determination, but unless I could defeat a daeva armed with a mop and bucket, Mistress Parmina was no more teaching me lessons than taking advantage of a free servant.
I wreaked my revenge in a hundred different, albeit petty, ways. Whenever I was sent to buy a box of sweetmeats for Mistress Parmina, I took a piece for myself, and she never knew. On days when she was being particularly nasty, I would wipe the privy with her facecloth. I realize, looking back, how immature I was being, but it was the closest thing I had to rebellion at a time when I felt powerless.
Whenever I was at my lowest, I would pretend that I had a better future. I pictured myself as a powerful asha, slaying daeva and slowly earning the people’s admiration. I imagined I was as Lilac had predicted, with jewels and gowns and a prince by my side, who resembled Prince Kance more and more with each passing day. From there my thoughts often drifted, and I wondered if I would see him again—or if he would even remember me.
Any good days I had were because I had spent them with Fox. He smuggled me small gifts when no one else was looking. Hair ribbons and new clothes Mistress Parmina was quick to notice, and they would have found their way into garbage bins. I was only allowed Lady Mykaela’s crescent pin to wear in my hair, the amethyst ornament I would have rather consigned to the oracle’s flames instead of my blue sapphires. Instead, Fox gave me things I could hide more easily: an occasional book he’d bought at the marketplace or some of my favorite snacks, like sweet, sticky mochi pastries, meat cutlets, and fried bread, to make up for the thin, watery soup, pickled radishes, rice, and runeberry fruit I was fed, offset only by grilled sardines twice a week.
At my suggestion, he gave these to Kana and Farhi as well. Kana received these “can’ts,” as she called them—probably because these were things she wasn’t allowed to have as a servant in the asha-ka—with unfettered joy. Farhi was a little less welcoming, but the bland meals we were given soon wore down her resolve, though she would only accept the gifts if they came from my hand rather than from my brother’s.
I had more chores than either girl, but soon both began pitching in when they could—Kana because she was grateful, and Farhi because she did not want to feel beholden to me. Often, they gave me early warning when Mistress Parmina woke, and we hid in the kitchens before she could find any one of us to scold. Kana giggled and cast shy, admiring glances at Fox when he visited, and I hadn’t the heart to tell her he was already dead. Drychta custom dictated that Farhi couldn’t associate with men who were not family, and so she kept a respectful, if aloof, distance whenever he was around.
I didn’t know how Fox found the money to buy me food and books, but every time I badgered him about it, he refused to answer. He showed up one day with a slight limp, and my suspicions grew. “You’re going to be an asha soon, Tea,” he reminded me, “and that means you’re expected to be truthful, so it would be for the best if you didn’t know. I am not involved in anything illegal, if that eases your mind.”
“If you aren’t a part of anything illegal, then why won’t you tell me?” I demanded. “And isn’t this hypocritical of you to say that I be truthful when you’ve been smuggling foodstuffs to me for the better part of three months?”
“Technically not illegal,” he amended. “And I said you had to be truthful, not starving.” He never did answer my question.
One spring evening, when the leaves turned as green as the fresh morning dew, I sat on the small veranda, watching the night sky. Mistress Parmina had just recently added one more chore to my already-busy schedule. Kana and Farhi took turns waiting up for Lady Shadi to return to the asha-ka after her functions, and the old woman had decreed that I share in this duty.
Oftentimes, the asha-in-training would return late, arriving only a few hours before dawn broke. We were responsible for letting her in and storing away the things she had brought with her to entertain, like her setar or her tonbak, two musical instruments she was particularly skilled at. Lady Shadi was still an apprentice, but she went to many functions like most regular asha in preparation for her upcoming debut. She had a sweet, finespun disposition and was a favorite among the guests. Mistress Parmina was very pleased with her progress.
The air was crisp and cool, and I must have dozed off for several minutes before I became aware of a knocking at our door. Thinking that Lady Shadi had come home earlier than expected, I stumbled to my feet, drawing back the bolt securing the door in place and tugging it open.
I didn’t recognize the pretty girl standing before me, but I did recognize the simple brown robe she wore. Asha-ka were not the only buildings in the Willows. There were many shops there that catered specifically to them, such as the ateliers, the schools of the arts, and the apothecaries. Asha-ka were found nearer to the oracle’s temple, while these shops were located closer to the entrances leading into the Willows. Some of them were the cha-khana, the “tea places,” small teahouses where asha entertained their patrons. Women who served in the cha-khana wore brown robes much like the one the girl wore.
“Is this the Valerian?” she asked.
“That’s what the sign on the walls say,” I said, grumpy from being woken so suddenly. “What is it?”