Page 10

The antlers. The leaf mask around his eyes, his green mouth beneath it. The size of his chest. That deep voice saying my name before everything went wrong.

I turn onto my back and stare at the ceiling.

I’d wanted him to like what he saw.

That is the part I wish I could forget. For a few stupid seconds, while he was coming toward me, I wondered whether he’d touch my face. Whether he would bend down to kiss me.

Then he looked at Neimura and asked why he’d bought a wife.

I pull the blanket over my mouth.

Asha would be furious on my behalf. She’d also ask what, exactly, I’d expected from marrying someone whose face I’d never seen.

I don’t want to write that letter.

I throw back the blanket and get up so I don’t start imagining her answer.

The floor is warm under my bare feet. My dress is dry. So is my coat, though the room has no fire.

Beside the bed, a shelf curves out of the wall.

That wasn’t here last night.

I touch it. Smooth wood, with a raised edge. It would hold my comb and the brass token Asha gave me when she opened the stall. I could put my spare dress there instead of digging through the bag each time I want clean clothes.

I take out the comb. Two of its teeth are missing. It catches in my hair, and I swear at it softly while I work through the knots.

When I’m finished, I almost leave it on the shelf.

I stop with it in my hand.

If Daurek tells me I can go home today, I want to pick up my bag and go. I don’t want to collect little pieces of myself from a room that has already started making space for them.

The comb goes back into the bag.

I dress, pull on my dry stockings, and lace my boots. Then I open the vine door by pressing my palm against it, the way Reivaka showed me. The stems loosen and curl aside. Outside waits a kettle, a cup, and one white flower.

Someone has thought about breakfast.

I pour the tea. It’s bitter enough to make me close my eyes with pleasure.

At least one thing in this forest suits me.

I find Reivaka where she told me she’d be, at the end of the eastern corridor. She’s crouched over a split in the floor, coaxing the edges together with her thumbs.

“Did you sleep?” she asks.

“Yes. Thank you for the shift.”

“Keep it. Your things dried?”

“All of them. Did you do that?”

“Daurek asked the room to warm.”

I look down into my cup.

He noticed I was wet. Anyone could have noticed that. Still, he’d done something about it after I’d left him.