Behind my wooden screen, my mask of confidence fell apart. Those magical scissors had turned my ruined shawl into one of the most extraordinary garments I had ever made.
I opened my satchel, folded my shawl, and stuffed it on top of Baba’s scissors. They looked so ordinary, their blades so dull they didn’t even glint in the light. I stared at them, bewildered by how tempted I was to use them again—to see what else they could do.
I closed my satchel and kicked it beneath my table.
Only two days ago, I hadn’t believed in magic. I had never seen magic. Now here I was, itching to use those enchanted scissors again.
With them, I would certainly win the trial.
Shouldn’t I be happy? I’d won five hundred jens and proven myself to the other tailors.
No. I’ve proven nothing. I swallowed. Now that I’d won, the tailors would be watching me closely. If someone found out I was using magical scissors, they’d tell Minister Lorsa. Then I’d be investigated…and exposed as a girl.
I won’t use them again, I decided.Not unless I absolutely must.
“Congratulations,” Longhai said, peeking over my screen. “What’s the matter? You don’t look too happy that you won.”
“I am,” I said, mustering a smile. I cleared my throat, and my fingers nervously drummed against my thigh until I clasped my hands together. “I am,” I repeated, “but I was almost sent home. I had no idea Lady Sarnai hated yellow.”
“Anyone else would simply be happy to have won,” Longhai said, chuckling at my distress. “But I understand.” He lowered his voice. “Yindi’s been bribing the maids for information. That’s how he knew.”
It became painfully clear that knowing Lady Sarnai’s preferences was vital to winning the trial. “I have no money for bribery.”
Longhai laughed. “You have five hundred jens now! Besides, you don’t need it, not when you can embroider like that.”
His praise sent a sharp pang of guilt to my conscience.
“But be mindful of what you say,” he went on. “The five sent home today were those speaking ill of Lady Sarnai last night. I doubt it’s a coincidence.”
“I appreciate the warning.”
So, Lady Sarnai had eyes and ears in the hall.
My stomach rumbled, and after Longhai returned to his station, I reached for the porridge sitting on my desk. It was cold by now and had attracted a following of flies, but I ate it anyway.
One of the kitchen maids passed through the hall to pick up our bowls and teacups. She was slightly plump around the waist, with a youthful face and friendly eyes as round as the two loops her black braids made behind her head.
She stacked my teacup atop a tower of cups on her tray. “We placed bets on everyone. I bet on you.”
“Me?” I looked up from my sketchbook. “Why?”
“Because you’re young, and…and…you looked like you’d be talented.” She blushed, and my brows furrowed with confusion. Before I could ask what she meant, she added, “I wasn’t wrong. Your shawl was magnificent.”
“Thank you,” I said, more bitterly than I intended. “I doubt I’ll be so lucky next time.”
“Lady Sarnai’s tastes change like the wind,” the maid said, “or so her servants say.” She leaned close to me, whispering, “But I still think you’ll win.”
I blinked, warmed by her earnestness. It had been a long time since I’d had a friend my own age. “That’s very kind of you.”
“My name’s Ammi. I sew a little myself, but my embroidery has always been clumsy.” She touched my shoulder bashfully. “I’d love to show you sometime—maybe you can help me improve.”
“Um.” Her closeness made me nervous. As tactfully as I could, I inched away from her. “I’d love to, but I’m going to be busy with the trial.”
She smiled. “If you get hungry, come visit the kitchens. The Lord Enchanter himself comes sometimes. He’s always poking about for herbs and spices. Usually the expensive ones.”
I tilted my head, curious. “To make potions?”
“No,” she said with a laugh. “To mask the smell of incense. His quarters are near the palace’s main temple. He says it reeks of ash and smoke.”
