I expected us to return to the Valerian. We didn’t, and I started to break out into a fresh sweat when I realized where she was taking us.
The Falling Leaf had seen better days. The garden had escaped mostly unscathed, save for a few disturbances in the soil. But the roof above the room Zoya and the other asha had entertained Prince Kance and his friends had collapsed, and the door leading in had been ripped out. Some attempt had been made to clean the area, but I could still see bits of broken wood and debris. The smell of sawdust clung to the air. Though it was the only room that looked to have been severely damaged by my mishap, there was a small sign by the entranceway announcing that, while the Falling Leaf would be closed until repairs were finished, visitors were still free to come and enjoy their gardens.
I was horrified—had I done all that? How had the rest of Ankyo looked?
I knew who the owner of the tearoom was: a short and stocky woman of middling age was supervising some of the cleaning and was deep in conversation with a few men whom I assumed were carpenters come to assess the damage. I understood immediately what Mistress Parmina wanted me to do. I hurried forward, my cheeks scarlet and my hands trembling, and stood before the woman, waiting for her to acknowledge me.
Once she did, I knelt forward and bowed until my forehead lay pressed against the earthen floor. I had once seen an apprentice do this to a mistress from a neighboring asha-ka for carelessly ruining one of her expensive hua. She had remained in that position for the better part of the afternoon, out in the street for all to see, until the mistress had determined she had been humiliated long enough.
“Oh, you don’t need to do that,” the Falling Leaf’s mistress exclaimed when she saw me. Oddly enough, it was she who was embarrassed. “It was an accident. It couldn’t be helped, I’m sure.”
“Nevertheless,” Mistress Parmina said, “my apprentice was somewhere she was not supposed to be, and your cha-khana suffered as a result. House Valerian pledges to pay for any damages made during her visit.”
“That is very kind of you, Lady Parmina,” the woman said, “but House Imperial has already offered the same thing.”
“I understand that Zoya had an important role in all of this and must share the blame. But,” the old woman added firmly, “as my apprentice was guilty of at least the physical consequences of this incident, I insist we assume the financial responsibility. And because you receive no profit while the Falling Leaf remains closed, please also accept a small daily stipend from us as well, until you are ready to reopen.”
The teahouse owner paused and finally nodded, if a little nervously. “I hope Mistress Hestia will understand…”
“Mistress Hestia shall,” Mistress Parmina assured her. “I will personally inform her of my decision.”
The other woman seemed to wilt in relief. “Thank you for your kind generosity, Mistress.”
“Get up, Tea.” Mistress Parmina told me, and I scrambled to my feet. “We will take our leave, Mistress Peg, and thank you for your clemency.”
“Wait.” If I was to beg forgiveness from the cha-khana mistress, I may as well ask forgiveness from everyone. “I would like to apologize to the girl who brought me to the Falling Leaf that night.”
“A girl?” The woman look astounded. “I sent no girls out that night.”
“But one came to the asha-ka and asked me to bring Lady Shadi’s hua and her instrument…”
“All my girls bring such matters to my attention before I send them out. I do not remember any of them doing so that night.”
“My charge must have been mistaken,” Mistress Parmina said smoothly. “Thank you again for your consideration, Mistress.”
Confused, I bowed low again before we departed, keeping my eyes glued to the floor until we had put the Falling Leaf some distance behind us. Before we entered the Valerian, Fox squeezed my hand reassuringly. “I will be nearby,” he promised, slipping away before Mistress Parmina could command him to leave.
The old asha had other things planned. “You will begin your lessons tomorrow. Lady Shadi and I will accompany you to your classes. In the meantime, I find it insulting how gracelessly you stood after Mistress Peg accepted your apology. That is not the way asha should stand, and fortunately, she was aware of your situation and did not take offense. But tonight, you will practice until I am satisfied with your performance. Kneel as you did in the tearoom.”
I hurried to comply, pressing my forehead against the soft bamboo mats that covered the floor of her room.
“Too slapdash, too quick. It looks as if you want it to be over. Do it again.”
She made me practice this throughout the night, always finding fault with the way I moved. By the time I returned to my bed, it was night and the candles had burned low, and I was exhausted. I reached out to Fox’s reassuring presence in my mind, finding comfort there. I felt him respond—and with it the faintest of images: Fox’s hands clenched into fists, bandaged but not from injury. There was another man in front of him, hands also raised, with a shock of red hair and a tattoo on his neck shaped like a bird—and then the image disappeared.
Cautious, I prodded at his presence in my head. After a moment’s pause, I felt his thoughts drift back to mine. Go to sleep, Tea.
Easy for you to say, I thought grouchily just before I drifted off. If today was any indication of how my lessons shall fare, I might not last the week.
The dance was as old as time. They performed it every year at the darashi oyun, a beautiful solo that singled out the most accomplished asha dancer of the season, the most distinguished award she could be presented with. Winning the role could have dramatic effects on an asha’s success.
They performed it on rare occasions in Drycht, in the cool summer palaces of King Aadil. They performed it in the Yadosha city-states, where men in loud voices and women with tobacco in hand paid exorbitant prices to watch them onstage, like these dancers were exotic species of a human menagerie. They even performed it in cold Istera, where the muffled cloaks and fur did nothing to hide the sway of bodies and grace of form.
But here, before the lonely grave, the girl performed the ritual of the Dancing Wind, and the waves jumped around her and applauded. The taurvi moved on instinct, circling as the girl did, leaping and bowing so that it rose when she rose and fell as she did, and with them, the world spun.
The dance wound down, drew to a close. The girl’s eyes were a mystery. The taurvi drew closer and licked her face like a faithful dog might greet its owner, and her laughter echoed across the waters, a sound of joy.
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