Page 66 of Under Restless Skies

Celine grins and nods. “I’ll ask.” She points at me. “I’ll ask for you, too.”

My lip twitches. I doubt anyone would allow me to sleep here. At least a request like that will be less humiliating than the one for the dress.

“Thank you.” My smile is sincere. “I don’t know if it’s possible, though.”

Celine waves her hands up and down, seeming impatient. “And that’s why we ask.”

We head to lunch, and I try to refrain from looking around, glancing once in a while at other tables to see if Alayel is here. No sign of him. The princess is not around either.

“They’re probably having a family meal,” Celine says.

“Who?” I ask.

She rolls her eyes. “You know very well who. Your friend. Ledeia too.” She points at a table in the corner. “Look, her friend wasn’t invited.”

Marcus is eating with other recruits and hasn’t even acknowledged me. I don’t know what I expected to happen if he saw me, or if he even saw me. Maybe he still hasn’t recognized me, but I don’t look that different from a year ago, do I?

When we finish eating, Celine suggests returning to the uniform supply room to check if they found a dress for me, but I tell her I’m feeling tired and need to rest. Resting is a great idea, in fact. If anyone asks, I can say that I didn’t want to go to this stupid ball.

When I climb the stairs toward my room, I’m ready to hide in my insignificance. Maybe I’m overreacting, but I can’t help but wonder if Alayel took me to dinner as a way to apologize. Maybe he couldn’t invite me. For a second, I consider going to his room to ask, but that would be intrusive—and desperate.

In truth, what I want most is to be a real recruit, to belong, and attending a ball won’t change that if tomorrow I have to wear the cleaning crew uniform again.

When I approach my door, I see two women standing outside, as if waiting for someone.

Their clothes are simple black linen tunics, and their hair is arranged in tight, elegant buns. A knot of anxiety tightens in my stomach, and I decide to turn around and come back later.

I barely take two steps when I hear, “Mayara of the Earth?”

“Yes?” I turn.

“We have orders to take you with us.”

A sliver of cold threads down my spine. Why? Where?

12

Thousands of questions spin in my mind, and yet the women are so taciturn that I dare ask none as I follow them up the main stairs.

We climb three floors, then they lead me to a large bathing chamber with partitions, where we reach a bathtub half-filled with water. One of the women, the shortest one, with lighter hair, places her hand in it, then throws steaming water from a metal bucket into the tub.

“Undress, my lady,” the other woman says. She’s taller and has black hair like mine.

My lady. My chest untangles. I’m not being sent to prison, not being expelled, not being summoned by Commander Mallor.

I think it’s safe to ask questions. “Why?” The question is stupid, and I try to fix it. “I mean, I realize it’s a bath, and I know what it’s for, but⁠—”

“We were ordered to prepare you for the Prince’s Ball,” the taller woman says.

All the bitter taste in my mouth dissipates at once. Of course I was invited to the ball. Obviously. Why did I doubt it?

“By whom?” I ask, just to make sure it was indeed Alayel—but who else could it be?

“Our superior,” the shorter woman says. “We do not know who ordered her, unfortunately.”

“Are you aware that I don’t have a dress?” I’d rather risk sounding foolish by stating the obvious than going through this bath only to realize I can’t come to the ball after all.

“You do have a dress,” the taller woman says. “But we might need to adjust it. That’s why we need to hurry.”