Mira nodded. She looked wretched. Without thinking, I reached out and took her hand. It shook slightly.
‘We will be,’ I said. ‘I promise.’
Mira nodded again and left. Kizzy waited until the door closed fully, then rounded on me.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Me?’
‘You,’ said Kizzy, prodding me hard in the chest. ‘Making doe eyes at that Settled girl.’
‘I’m doing no such thing.’
‘You are, and you need to stop. It would be bad enough if it was a boy.’
‘I’m not … I don’t …’ I stopped. There was nothing I could say. I could not deny that I had been watching Mira, hoping she was watching me too.
‘Stop,’ said Kizzy again, prodding me once more.
‘Ouch,’ I said pointedly, rubbing the spot. ‘She’s been kind. I want to be kind back.’
‘These people aren’t our friends.’
‘Mira’s not one of them.’
‘She’s a Settled.’
‘They crushed her throat for Saints’ sake!’
‘Doesn’t mean she can’t betray us,’ said Kizzy darkly. ‘We can’t trust any of them, Lillai. Just us, all right?’
She held out her hand, fingers splayed, and unable to resist the gesture that had joined us since childhood, I pressed my fingertips to hers.
‘All right. Just us.’
The door opened, and despite our seconds-old promise my heart still sank when I saw it was not Mira but Edina who passed through it. She stalked up to us and circled us both, one eyebrow arched.
‘So you are the gypsy twins?’ She sniffed. ‘Not sure what the fuss is about.’
I knew Kizzy had a sharp retort on her tongue, so I nudged her gently with my arm. As Edina walked past me, I noticed one cheek was red under its flour-white powder. So Malovski had not allowed her to get away with her disobedience after all.
‘We’ve a busy day ahead, so don’t give me any trouble,’ Edina continued. ‘Lunch, then the arrival of Boyar Calazan, then dinner. The whole castle will be out on parade this afternoon, to welcome our guest. Mistress wants you to serve him at dinner, so this lunch service is a practice. You’ll shadow me, but after that you’ll be first out until Boyar Valcar’s bored of you. He likes new things, but he quickly tires.’ She let out a short laugh, painted mouth tight around the sound. ‘Follow me.’
We kept close behind Edina as instructed, and I tried to acquaint myself with the warren of the space. I felt like a rabbit caught in unfamiliar tunnels: the fox Malovski out of sight, but her reeking threat ever-present.
I recognised nothing until we entered the kitchens. The room rang with mutters, and I searched for Cook, for a friendly face. But she was bent over her work, and did not look up at us. I instead scanned the room for Szilvie, Dot and Mira, and found them all at their usual stations. Mira gave me an encouraging nod as I took up position between Edina and Kizzy. The platter before me was a pile of ribs from one of the slaughtered pigs, wafting their scent over my newly clean skin.
I gripped it in both hands, the weight straining my arms, weak from lack of movement. I felt like a woman five times my age as I hoisted it to waist height, turned, and followed Edina back out of the room.
I could hear Kizzy’s nervous, shortened breaths behind me as we approached the massive doors. They were thrown open by two guards, and I tried to close my ears to their lewd comments as we walked through, my wrists aching now, and found ourselves in a vast antechamber.
Hung with the most ornate tapestries I had seen yet, and the floor strewn with sweet-smelling rushes, it was fine as any place I’d ever seen. Another set of wooden doors opened to our right, and through them came a rush of noise.
Men’s voices, as they always were when there are so many together: more like beasts bellowing at one another than any attempt at real conversation. They sounded drunk already, though it was only lunchtime, and when I stepped over the threshold it was the smell of stale beer that hit me first. Next, it was the size of the place.
If the antechamber could have held our camp, this room could have sheltered a sizeable plot of forest, tallest trees and all. Five narrow slits of windows were set high in the walls, shafts of hazy sunlight piercing the interior like blades. The whole room seemed ablaze with candlelight.
The tapestries here were threaded with gold and mostly depicted hunting scenes, great spurts of cotton and silk blood turning the walls the same crimson as the soldiers’ sashes. Bile rose in my mouth at the sight of the red, and the scent of the burnt meat in my hands.
My teeth began to chatter as I pushed away the memory of our burning camp, the slain bears, the bleeding people who had raised me, our wagon’s curtains turned to ash …
Breathe. I had stopped inhaling, was growing light-headed. I gulped in a breath of beer-stinking air, steadying myself. Our long line split into three, one for each of the tables set in the room. I did my best to absorb as much of the scene as possible.
One table was set across the room before an open-mouthed fire. Men were seated facing out towards the vast room, though none had noticed our entrance, being too preoccupied with loud laughter and sloshing goblets. We were the only women in the place. Two more tables were set length-wise along the walls, with rows of men seated at long benches along each side. The men closest to the doors turned to us as we entered, and one placed his fingers between his lips and whistled once loudly, a whooping sound.
At the table to the left, I caught sight of Captain Vereski, his wound now mostly healed, showing only brown rakes. His eyelid was still puffy and sore-looking, the just-revealed eye red. His healing was slow, and I was glad of it. He bared his teeth as we passed, and I quickened my pace.
Many men wore the garb of the soldiers, but more were clothed like noblemen, with gold rings thick about their fingers, their beards neatly trimmed. Edina motioned with her elbow, her arms being full of a tureen of soup, that Kizzy and I should follow her to the top table.
This meant enduring the whistles and leering stares of the full length of the room. Some of the men seemed to have favourites, and called out to the girls by name, but none responded. I followed Edina’s lead, keeping my eyes trained ahead, borrowing her imperious tilt of the chin.
The top table was raised on a platform. The fire’s heat was intense even at a distance and sweat threaded down my neck beneath Mira’s careful bun. It was like approaching the burning gates of Settled people’s Hell.
I stepped up to the platform, the heat almost unbearable. It was worse than the kitchens somehow, though maybe it was only that my dress was made of a thicker material, more tightly fitted against my skin.
The line of serving girls fanned out along the table’s length, and my arms, desperate for respite, almost dropped the platter onto the scrubbed wooden surface.
‘Not yet,’ hissed Edina. I heaved it back up again, looking up through lowered lashes to see if my stumble had been noticed.
It had.
‘Hello there,’ said the man sitting before me. He was thin and dressed in black and red, like the soldiers, but his attire was finely constructed, with neat bone buttons glinting like chips of ice along the front. His hair was slicked back, and I could see the gleam of scalp through it as he leaned forwards. ‘New girl?’