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“I am your mentor,” Maela reminds her.
That’s new. Pryana had been assigned to someone else when I was here last.
“You were my mentor,” Pryana corrects her in a gentle voice. The whole interaction is strange. Maela displaying her usual penchant for the dramatic interpretation of events while Pryana stays collected, even distant.
“She pretends to be Creweler for a few months and forgets the little people who helped her get there,” Maela says to me.
I wonder what Maela thinks of me, if she’s been allowed to remember our past. Regardless, she clearly still hates me.
The activity continues in the room, but the seamstresses have slowed their progress, obviously not wanting to miss anything that passes between the three of us. They listen, holding their breath like the pins clamped between their teeth.
“Are they designing your wedding dress?” Maela asks. Her voice is sugary like too-sweet tea, and equally hard to swallow.
I shake my head. “Not yet. We still have plenty of time for that.”
“Oh,” she says in a thoughtful voice. “I heard differently.”
Trust Maela to come in and act like the most important woman in the Coventry. She behaved the same way when she oversaw my brief training on the looms. I know better than to believe a word she says.
“There are plenty of rumors flying around the Coventry these days, Maela,” Pryana says, almost as if she’s coming to my defense. Apparently we both now view Maela with the apprehension she deserves, but that doesn’t make us friends yet.
“I came to speak to Adelice,” Maela says, not rising to Pryana’s bait.
“You’re in luck then,” I say, tilting my head in invitation.
Maela’s lips purse tightly as she glances at the other people in the room. “It hasn’t been announced officially yet,” she says with an emphasis bordering on warning, “but you’ll be hosting a loom demonstration at the end of the week.”
My heart slams against my chest and it takes every ounce of willpower not to smile, a reaction I don’t quite understand. “For whom?” I manage to ask as my fingers begin to tingle.
Maela’s lip curls up at my reaction. “For the Stream. Cormac wants to show you off.”
The excitement leaches from me slowly, fading out until it reaches my twitching fingertips and is replaced by a chill that numbs my body. A distraction. He wants to use me as a distraction, and then I’ll be locked away again.
“I’ll be overseeing the filming,” Maela continues.
But I already knew Cormac wouldn’t be there. Something has his attention elsewhere—something terrible if he’s using me as a decoy to distract Arras.
“Thank you for letting me know,” I whisper.
Maela scans my face as though she senses the shift in my reaction, but in the end she doesn’t care. “I should be going. I have plenty of things to do.”
As soon as Maela exits the room, Pryana lets out a low whistle. “I’m sure there are plenty of young Spinsters to terrify.”
“I wondered when she was going to show her face. I was always a favorite of hers,” I add. Pryana and I share a laugh.
Amie lets out a nervous giggle. She hasn’t spoken since Maela’s impromptu entrance, and I can’t say I blame her.
“Maela can be very intimidating,” I say to Amie, hoping to put her back at ease. “It’s her most winning personality trait.”
“I would hate to see her other characteristics, then.” Amie twists a piece of lace around her fingers.
“Yes, you would,” Pryana agrees.
“What other rumors are flying around the Coventry?” I ask. It’s hard to find the courage to bring this up, because I don’t trust Pryana. However, she’s out there, and I know she hears all the gossip.
“Nothing new. Spinsters sneaking around with valets. Ministers engaging in dirty politics,” she answers, without giving me any concrete examples.
“I want to know the rumors about Cormac.” I’m taking a chance admitting this is what I want to know. Neither Amie nor Pryana has any loyalty to me. As it is, they might only be around to report back to Cormac. But my situation can’t get any worse. I don’t expect to get a straight answer from Pryana, but even if she is spying for him I have nothing to lose.
