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I look at Tarlia and hate to see her so hopeless and resigned. “Trust the Almighty Mother, Tarlia. Maybe you have a future.”
She half rolls her eyes but then smiles. “I respect your faith, Astra, but you know I don’t believe in made-up stories or made-up people.”
Made-up. It seems hard to live without anything to hold on to, without anything to give her hope, but I also respect her choice. Still, I say, “Reality is not that great, in case you haven’t noticed.”
She looks up. “I daydream, Astra. I’m not as immersed in reality as you think.”
I almost ask her what her daydreams are made of, but it might be too personal. I’ll never tell her mine, after all.
When I get back to the window, I have made up my mind. Yes, I’m exhausted, but I’m going to Master Otavio’s study. Tonight is the perfect opportunity, when he likely thinks I’m too weary to leave my bedroom. I’m going to check his Tiurian dictionary, and I’ll see if azalee is in it.
It’s a small detail, sure, but if I don’t look closely at what small clues I have, I’ll never get to the main picture.
Getting to Otavio’s window always speeds up my heart. It’s not like moving to my sisters’ windows—it involves climbing down the walls of the tower.
The stones are rough and have large enough fissures for my hand and feet to fit in comfortably, but the height and the absence of a solid ledge for my feet rattle me. It’s pointless fear, and if I saw a wall like this in a climbing class, I’d laugh. But then, a mistake here would mean instant death. And then again, the crevices are huge!
I am aware that fear is distorting my perception, and yet my awareness doesn’t make it go away, just pushes me into braving it. I hate fearing something so stupid, though.
And then there’s that small fear that I could get caught. That I could be expelled. I tell myself I’ll be extra careful. If I ever want to hope I’ll be assigned to a high importance mission, I can’t fear going in and out of rooms undetected. That’s the bare minimum.
Before I reach his window, I stop, since I notice a flickering light coming from the study. He could have left a candle burning. But before I get any closer, I hear his voice.
“We’ll need to stick to the plan, and be more aggressive if necessary. There’s still three months. If we find there’s any chance Leonius might want his daughter to be the one to get married, we’ll… Change his mind.”
“Killing her might ruin our plans.” This is Andrezza’s voice.
I’m surprised at her casual mention of murder. I shouldn’t be surprised, considering everything. But I’m sure this is Princess Driziely they’re talking about, and I always thought our goal was to protect her.
“No need to kill. Just worsen her disease. We should have done that a long time ago. Leonius might want his bloodline spread over other kingdoms, but he’ll also want to secure a strong alliance, and he won’t risk his daughter if she’s too frail. Plus, our girls are better suited for that; more beautiful, smarter, more elegant.”
Really? Otavio thinks we’re smart and elegant? Tarlia and Sayanne, maybe.
He continues, “Do you think Driziely can convince anyone she’s the prettiest girl in the world? The kings will laugh in our face.”
As if we could convince anyone of that. I’ll laugh next time I see myself in the mirror.
“They don’t look much different from the princess.” Andrezza is a smart woman, indeed.
“There are tricks, Andrezza, a little more glow on the skin, in the right places. The right clothes. In three months, I’ll make them radiant.”
Three months for what? It’s the second time they’re mentioning it, and it has to be a specific date, a specific event. Perhaps Driziely’s birthday. She’ll turn nineteen, and there should be a big party.
Andrezza sighs loudly enough that it reaches my ears. “We’ll only need one of them. Perhaps we should choose and focus on her.”
“No. We’ll keep training and preparing the three substitutes. Things happen. Just happened, in fact. Two of our girls got sick.”
“Did you find out what caused it?” Her tone is concerned.
“Foolish girls, must have eaten something that didn’t come from our kitchen.” Otavio sounds annoyed.
I, for my part, feel relieved that he didn’t even mention poisoning or what I’ve done. He’s indeed protecting me, like he claims. Perhaps I should be more thankful.
“But here? How?” Andrezza still sounds worried.
“The girls get nightly visitors, both you and I know that. One of them might have brought something they’re not used to.”
“But see, that’s troubling.” She has that same concerned tone. “Of course they can’t be blushing virgins, and I’m glad for the practice our guards and substitutes give them, but if they’re poisoning them… You see how that’s dangerous?”
