CHAPTER FIVE
“Where have you been?” asked Raikama when I returned to work on my tapestry. “Late for the third day. Even for you, Shiori, this is unusual. I expect you to be more diligent about your work.”
“Yes, Stepmother,” I mumbled.
My tapestry was nearly complete, almost ready to be sent to Castle Bushian. I couldn’t wait to be finished with it and have my days free again.
Except when I sat at my embroidery frame, I discovered my progress from this week had been undone. I gasped. “What—”
“Your lines were crooked,” Raikama said, “and you missed a stroke on Bushi’an Takkan’s name. Best to redo it all rather than risk offending his family again.”
I gritted my teeth, anger boiling inside me.
Calm,I reminded myself, exhaling.Calm.
At this rate, I’d have to finish my tapestry at Castle Bushian. I let out a groan. If only I could enchant my needle to sew without me.
Well, why not?
“Awaken,” I whispered to my needle. “Help me sew.”
To my astonishment, the needle fumbled to life, awkwardly dipping in and out of the silk. Then, as I gained faith in its enchantment, it started to dance across the frame in a symphony of stitches. I added three more needles to speed up the pace while I sewed too, keeping my back to Raikama so she wouldn’t see.
All week we worked, until at last the tapestry—a scene of cranes and plum blossoms against the full moon—was finished. Once we were done, I gathered the needles in my palm.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “Your work is complete.”
The needles fell lifeless, and a sudden lethargy stole over me. I fought it off, rising triumphantly from my embroidery frame to tell my stepmother I was finished.
For what felt a very long time, Raikama scanned my work, but she was unable to find fault with it. “It will do,” she allowed, though her eyebrows made a suspicious lift. “Once your father approves, I will ask the ministers to send it to Castle Bushian.”
I nearly jumped with joy. Thank the Eternal Courts, that meant I was free!
Exuberantly, I put away my needles and threads. I wanted to find my brothers to celebrate, but magic was exhausting work—mentally and physically. I ended up dozing on my bed until Guiya, one of my maids, summoned me to dinner.
She was new, with blank eyes, a forgettable face, and an exasperating obsession with dressing me, down to the last detail, in attire befitting a princess—a task my previous maids had long since given up. In her arms was a set of ornately tailored robes, sashes, and jackets I had no desire to wear.
“Your clothes are wrinkled, Your Highness,” she said. “You can’t leave your chamber looking like that.”
I was too tired to care. Ignoring her pleas, I ambled to dinner, practically collapsing into my place beside Hasho and Yotan. I could hardly get through the first course without nodding off.
The cushions under my knees felt extra soft, and I swayed, lulled by the flowery aroma of freshly brewed tea. Hasho elbowed me when I slumped and knocked over my tea.
“What’s wrong with you?” he whispered.
I ignored him, raising my sleeve as the servants cleaned the spill I’d made. “Father,” I called, seeking his attention. “Father, may I please be excused? I’m feeling unwell.”
“You do look paler than usual,” Father said, distracted. His mind was elsewhere; meetings with the council had been running long, though Andahai and Benkai would not tell me why. He dismissed me with a nod. “Go, then.”
My stepmother watched me strangely. “I will walk herout.”
I looked up in horror. “No, I’m—”
“At least to the hall,” she insisted.
She didn’t speak until we reached the end of the corridor. “I’ve been thinking about that dragon you said you saw,” she said in a low voice. “They are dangerous, untrustworthy beasts, Shiori. If you’ve come across one, you’d do best to stay far, far away. It is for your own good.”
I hid my surprise. Had she actually believed me?
