This was luxury compared to our tent.
“There’s a peddler selling fruits and steamed buns on the street,” Ammi said, glancing out the window. “It’ll be cheaper to buy from him than to eat at the inn. Do you want anything?”
I peeked outside too. Behind the peddler, someone wheeled another cart, selling honeycomb cookies and peanut cakes. My stomach grumbled with a familiar longing for something sweet.
“Maybe a honeycomb cookie if you have spare change left over,” I suggested.
The hint of a smile lifted Ammi’s lips. “You like honeycomb cookies? I like them too.” Then her smile vanished, and her brow furrowed.
“What is it?” I asked.
“All the food I took from the palace is gone. We have enough money for the room and dinner tonight, but…” Her voice faltered. “If you made something, I could sell it. Nothing fancy. A simple handkerchief might be enough.”
Since making His Majesty’s cloak, I had barely touched a needle. I was afraid my fingers had forgotten how to sew. I’d never gone more than a few days without them itching to work. I bit my lip. “I didn’t bring any—”
“Use this,” she said, pushing a handful of red silk cloths into my hand. The color was washed out from the storm, but I recognized them as napkins from the wedding banquet.
A flush deepened Ammi’s cheeks, as if I had accused her. “The maids steal every now and then. There’s a whole black market for items from the palace. I’ve never taken anything before. Never. Except for these and the food we needed for our journey. Besides, His Majesty owes us ten thousand jens for our help finding Lady Sarnai….”
Her voice trailed off, and I knew we were both thinking the same thing: that it was money we’d likely never see, given we’d aided Sarnai’s escape from the Autumn Palace.
“I wasn’t rebuking you,” I said. “I’m…impressed.”
“Oh.” She reached into her pocket and produced three thin spools of thread and a needle. “I asked the innkeeper for these.”
The color was a dull red and the thread coarse, clearly meant to be used for mending. It would have to do.
When she left, I unwound the thread from the spools, ignoring the scissors throbbing at my hip. They yearned to work again.
“Not now,” I murmured to them. It had been so long since I’d sewn without magic.Ineeded this task more than my scissors did.
I picked up the needle, rolling it between my thumb and first finger. The two weeks I’d slept after defeating the shansen had made my fingers stiff and clumsy. My first stitches on the napkin were crooked and uneven, some petals of the flower I was trying to embroider bigger than others. Frustrated, I picked them apart, then tried again.
I loosened my grip on the napkin and slowed down, letting each dip of the needle match the steady rhythm of my breath. As I worked, I hummed the tune Edan used to play on his flute. A twinge of regret fluttered in my chest. If I went straight to Lapzur, I’d never get a chance to give his flute back to him.
Ammi returned just as I was finishing the last handkerchief. In her basket were sand pears, a box of steamed buns, and one large honeycomb cookie fresh off the griddle.
I held the cookie on my palm, the heat seeping through the thin banana leaf that wrapped it, and inhaled. Not one of the hundred dishes I’d sampled during the royal wedding could compare to the sweetness of this treat.
“It’s all yours,” she said, grinning at my blissful expression. “I ate mine on the way back.”
I wasted no time and took a bite, sinking my teeth into the crispy golden edge, then savoring the syrupy honey as it melted on my tongue. After days of salted meats and leftover banquet food, how wonderful it felt to eat something hot, fresh, and simple.
I licked my fingers clean and let out a contented sigh.
“My cookies are better, to be honest,” Ammi said slyly. “I’ll make you some one day.”
“I didn’t know you baked.”
“The emperor’s bakers get overworked sometimes. I’d help when I had a spare moment. You don’t get such prosperous cheeks by serving tea all day.” She patted her face. “Used to dream I’d open my own shop, if I ever got out of being a maid. Maybe it would become so famous my family would hear about it.”
She pursed her lips.
“Is that why you wanted to win the ten thousand jens?” I asked her gently.
Ammi shrugged, not wanting to talk about her home anymore. “Baking makes me happy.” She picked up one of the handkerchiefs I’d made. I hoped she wouldn’t notice the dropped stitches on the earlier ones, how some of the petals were uneven. “I’ve noticed two things makeyouhappy. Sweets and sewing.”
I laughed. “Very observant.”
