'My lord.' Her forehead almost touched the ground. 'I'm sorry, my lord. Lady Dela is not here.'
I crossed my arms over my tunic. 'When is she expected to return?' I asked, glad the girl was face down and could not see the flush of stupidity on my skin; a Dragoneye lord did not call on a court lady in his sparring gear.
'She is not long away, my lord. If you would like to wait inside, I can fetch her for you.'
'Yes. I'll wait.'
I dismissed the porter and followed the girl into the tiny hallway, my breathing sweetened for a moment by a waft of frangipani. Lady Dela's perfume.
The main room obviously served as both reception and living area. In the corner near the window, two formal chairs were set on either side of a small table and half hidden by a delicate screen, the blackwood frame covered in thin parchment instead of silk. A low eating table was pushed up against the left wall, straw seating mats stored beneath it. Along the other wall was a day pallet, draped in royal blue velvet and stacked with cotton cushions that ranged from eggshell to midnight. A few darned patches stood out on the velvet like old scars.
The girl led me to the formal chairs. 'Would you care for wine while you wait, my lord?' she asked.
'No, thank you.' I sat down, feeling the thin wood creak under me.
She bowed and left. Through the open front window I saw her running up the laneway, her hand clamped over the precious hairpin.
The chair did not seem very stable. Afraid it would break, I stood, my interest caught by a collection of small boxes arranged along a shallow shelf above the pallet. Five of them, all different shapes. I kneeled on the bed and picked up one made of pale wood inset with black stone in the design of a spider. A symbol of happiness. I hooked my fingernail under the lid and flipped it open. A thin layer of powder lay in the bottom. I sniffed. Chalky roses. It was face powder. I slid it back onto the shelf and pushed myself off the pallet.
The doorway into the next room was closed with a thick curtain of faded indigo damask. It would be an unforgivable breach of courtesy to go through it. I checked the laneway through the window — no one was coming — then moved the curtain aside, stepping into a small dressing room.
The pungent scent of cedar caught me in the back of the throat, forcing a cough. The smell was probably coming from the three large storage chests set against the wall. Opposite them, long, deep shelves were stacked with neat calico-wrapped bundles: Lady Dela's collection of robes. Her fortune. A window fitted with waxed paper let in a soft light. Beside it, a long green tunic hung from a rack. I touched the folds, feeling the cloth slide through my fingers like fine sand. Her gown set out for the evening.
I walked over to a plain wooden press and slowly pushed the door across with one finger.
Underclothes. Embroidered silk drawers, diamond-shaped chemises that tied at waist and neck, even stiff breasts-bands. It was then I realised I was looking for something that was not female. What was I doing? Looking for a lie, like mine? But Lady Dela was the most truthful of us all. I slid the door shut with a snap, my betrayal framed in the long mirror beside me.
I looked at the wary boy-girl reflected in the glass. This was how I was going to live for the rest of my life. Never able to make an unguarded move. Always watching for suspicion, danger, discovery. The girl I once was, lost in years of pretending to be a boy. Or had my Sun energy just overwhelmed the Moon in me?
On a small table at my elbow was a collection of elaborate hairpins, earrings, bracelets and a pot of white skin paint. I picked up a long pin with five gold blossoms hanging from a delicate chain. With a twist, I tightened my Dragoneye braids into a knot, like the maid's, and stuck the pin through it. I swung my head to and fro, watching the gold blossoms shimmer against the oiled darkness of my hair. I looked over my shoulder. Did I have time for more?
Feverishly, I chose four enamelled bracelets, pushing them over my hand and shaking them down my arm, watching my reflection smile as they clinked together. Another four on the other arm, the thick bands accentuating my delicate wrist. Next, a pair of earrings: black pearls hanging like a bunch of grapes from a gold hook. I was not pierced like Lady Dela, so I held them up to my earlobes, the bracelets chiming. The fall of pearls made my throat look longer. I tilted my head, watching the smooth line of my white neck. Through my body, energy boomed like another heartbeat. Whispering. Calling.
'Lord Eon?'
I swung around, the energy choked off like a stifled cry. Lady Dela was standing at the doorway, her hand holding back the
curtain. Behind her, the maid was on her toes straining to see over her mistress's shoulder.
Lady Dela rounded on the girl. 'Get out. Now!'
She twitched the curtain across, closing off the maid's view. I was still holding the earrings up to my ears. I thrust them behind me, my eyes fixed on Lady Dela; there was no shock on her face.
Had she guessed?
'Lady Dela,' Ryko's voice was muffled through the curtain, 'please do not barge ahead like that. I need to check your quarters before you enter.'
She pulled the curtain closer to the doorframe.
'I am all right,' she called through the heavy cloth. 'I am here with Lord Eon. Leave us be.'
She turned back to me, her face drawn.
'I'm sorry,' I said. 'I just…'
I stopped, not knowing what to say
She shook her head and waved my apology aside. 'I am the last person who needs an explanation.' She glanced back at the doorway, lowering her voice. 'But promise me you will be more careful. I wish you could wear these things and be safe, but there are people around here who will not tolerate this kind of difference, even in a Moon Shadow. And they do not care about rank. They will hurt you. Like they have hurt me.'
She pulled down the scalloped neck of her robe. A series of raw gashes, only half healed, marred the smooth flat skin over her heart. For a moment all I saw were deep, ugly cuts. Then I saw that it was a character carved into her flesh: demon.
She looked down at the mutilation. 'See? You must be very careful.'
I nodded, caught between horror at the wound and relief that she had not guessed the truth.
But even though she had leaped to the wrong conclusion, I knew she was right. If anyone found out what I really was, they would do more than brand me with their hate. They would kill me. A female Dragoneye was a travesty of
everything natural in the world.
I placed the earrings back onto the table, leaning on it for support. The desire to tell Lady Dela who I was — what I was — surged through me. I closed my eyes, riding out the impulse. It was not only my life at stake.
I felt for the pin in my hair and pulled. It was snagged in a braid. Only a tiny pain, but I still cried out.
'Here, let me help,' Lady Dela said.
She stepped up behind me and I felt her fingers working through my caught hair. It brought the memory of another long-ago touch: my mother combing out snags and knots.
'Why do you wear women's clothes? There is no power in being a woman, and you are suffering for your choice,' I said. 'You could wear men's tunics and they'd leave you alone.'
The pin came free and she stepped away from me. I heard it clink onto the crowded table.
'When I was seven or so, my sister caught me wearing her skirt,' Lady Dela said softly. 'But even before that, I knew I was different from the other boys in our tribe. Nothing boyish came naturally to me. I hated hunting, fishing, even the ball games. I had to work at it, all the time.'