I opened my mouth to speak, but Khanujin interrupted, “We shall ask the imperial tailor on your wife’s behalf, Lord Lawar, as a token of peace between the North and South.”
“I’ve heard the imperial tailor is a woman,” the lord continued. “She must be gifted, to be able to sew the dresses ofAmana.”
The shansen grunted. “Bring her forth. I should like to meet this girl.”
I held my breath, trying hard not to glance at Khanujin.
“I’ve a better idea,” said the emperor smoothly. “Lady Sarnai, why don’t you demonstrate the tremendous power of your dress?”
It took all my control not to glower at him. Surely he had to be joking.
“The goddess’s power is not mine to invoke,” I said in the flattest tone I could muster.
“My daughter speaks at last,” rumbled the shansen. His eyes narrowed. Heknewthere was something different about me. “It’s not like you to be shy, Sarnai. Come, show us what the dress can do.”
I wouldn’t rise. I forced a morsel of roasted squab into my mouth, chewing defiantly.
“She’s still angry with me,” Khanujin said, laughing. A chorus of awkward chuckles joined him. “Stand, Sarnai. Show us Amana’s strength.”
The emperor’s calm surprised me. Had I underestimated him? Edan’s enchantment had brought upon him the appearance of majesty, but I was starting to wonder if the charm of his tongue was his own entirely.
He left me no choice, so I made a show of leisurely setting down my napkin and rising from my seat, deliberately taking my time.
The dress of the moon had the most fabric of all the three gowns, with long sleeves and a sheer jacket over the bodice tied with a wide embroidered sash. Tiny pearls studded every inch of the gown, representing the tears of the moon. It had been painstaking work, sewing them onto the fabric, and it had paid off. The pearls rippled, almost like the reflection of the moon over water—a breathtaking effect.
I unrolled the sleeves, letting them hang loose and brush against the ground. Slowly, I turned, ignoring the loud cheers and cries as silvery lights cascaded over the fabric.
Only the shansen was unimpressed. “A few sparkles and shiny silks are hardly representative of Amana’s power. Are you sure the tailor did not fleece you, daughter?”
“This gown is embroidered with the tears of the moon,” I said, an edge to my voice now. I’d gone through so much to make these dresses. How could anyone doubt them?
I gripped the sides of my skirts, bunching as much fabric as I could into my fists and squeezing. How could I show him?
I sought the moon through one of the latticed windows, the curtains sheer, dancing slightly in the autumn wind. The moon was as starved as it had been the night before, a fragilecrescent—according to legend, that meant the goddess of the moon could not see her lover, the god of the sun. When the moon was full, she could see him, so she was happier.
Remembering the story made me think of Edan. I’d likely never see him again, never feel his arms around me, or inhale the warmth of his skin touching mine, never hear his voice caress my name.
We were like the sun and the moon, sharing the same stars and the same sky.
Somehow, that made him feel less far away. And made my heart feel slightly less alone. Less cold. For a moment, the darkness inside me weakened, and my dress came alive—
“Look!” one of the ministers cried. “The dress…it’s…”
Glowingwasn’t the right word. I could understand why he stumbled to find the right one. Light burst from my dress, permeating the entire hall as if stars were shooting forth from the ceiling. A powerful gust of wind rushed across the room, followed by a suddenflash.
The flames on the candles went out with a snap, and the bronze goblets and porcelain plates sang from the sting of an invisible kiss. Some of the guests ducked under the banquet table, while others marveled at my dress.
When it was over, the servants hastened to relight the candles, and the chamber broke into applause. Even the shansen’s lips curled with interest. The emperor basked in everyone’s praise—as ifhehad been the one to make Amana’s dresses.
Maia Tamarin, the imperial tailor, was forgotten. Lady Sarnai, the Jewel of the North, was forgotten.
But I, whoever I was at this moment, did not forget.
I returned to my seat, my mind reeling. The dress had glowed beautifully, and its fabrics had shone with the mysterious light of the moon—enough to impress the shansen.
But this couldn’t beallAmana’s dresses could do. I’d seen their power destroy Lady Sarnai, disfigure her beyond recognition. What other secrets did they hold?
Would they turn against me when I became a demon? Or join me in my fall?
