As if she were an hourglass, Alizeh felt herself fill incrementally with grains of awareness; she grew suddenly heavy with unease, with a feeling of fear. Whosoever had delivered her the gown had also written this note—but if that were true, she should have no reason to worry.
Why, then, did she worry?
“This says there’s an enclosed package,” Alizeh said, looking up. “Is there a package?”
“Yes,” said Miss Huda, who made no effort to move. She only stared, as if Alizeh had grown a third leg.
“Will you not bring it to me?”
“Will you not first tell me who you are?”
“Me?” Alizeh recoiled. “I am no one of consequence.”
Miss Huda’s jaw clenched. “If you are no one of consequence then I am the queen of Ardunia. Whatever you think of me, I daresay I’ve never given the impression of being an idiot.”
“No.” Alizeh sighed. “That you have not.”
“Until just now, I’d thought the note was some kind of joke,” Miss Huda said, crossing her arms. “People have long loved to torture me with their insipid pranks. This one seemed more peculiar than the others, but still I ignored it, much as I do the frog legs I find in my bed on occasion.” She paused. “Do you take part now in some elaborate caper intended to make me appear foolish?”
“Of course not,” said Alizeh sharply. “I’d never participate in such a hateful act.”
Miss Huda frowned.
It was a moment before she said, “Do you know, I’ve thought from the first that you speak uncommonly well for a snoda. Still, I thought it snobbish to look down on you for your attempt to educate yourself. And yet—all that time you were measuring me with your pins and needles, I never quite had the measure of you, did I?”
Alizeh exhaled, the action loosening something in her bones, some essential tension responsible for securing in place her deferential facade. She didn’t see the point in being compliant any longer.
Indeed, she was tired of it.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” she said to Miss Huda. “If you were unable to take the measure of me, it was because I’d not wanted you to.”
“And why, pray, is that?”
“I cannot say.”
“You cannot?” Miss Huda narrowed her eyes. “Or you will not?”
“I cannot.”
“Whyever not?” She laughed. “Why would you not want anyone to know who you are? Don’t say you’re on the run from assassins?”
When Alizeh said nothing, Miss Huda quickly sobered. “You can’t be serious,” she said. “Are you in fact acquainted with assassins?”
“In my experience, one does not make the acquaintance of assassins.”
“But it’s true, then? Your life is in danger?”
Alizeh lowered her eyes. “Miss, will you not please bring me the package?”
“Oh,” she said, waving a hand. “There’s little point in the package. The parcel was empty.”
Alizeh’s eyes widened. “You opened it?”
“Of course I opened it. You think I believed a girl with silver eyes would come looking for a mysterious package? Naturally I assumed the box would contain bloody goat brains, or even a small family of dead birds. Instead, it was empty.”
“But that can’t be right.” Alizeh frowned. “Will you not bring it to me anyway, so that I might inspect it?”
Miss Huda didn’t appear to hear her.
“Tell me,” she was saying, “why would you bother taking work as a seamstress if your life is in danger? Would it not be difficult to meet the demands of your customers if you needed, for example, to flee with little notice?”
Suddenly, Miss Huda gasped.
“Is that why you weren’t able to finish my gown?” she asked. “Are you running for your life this very moment?”
“Yes.”
Miss Huda gasped again, this time lifting a hand to her cheek. “Oh, how terribly thrilling.”
“It’s nothing of the sort.”
“Perhaps not for you. I think I wouldn’t mind running for my life. Or running away, generally.”
Alizeh felt the nosta glow warm against her skin and stilled, surprised to discover the young woman did not exaggerate.
“I do nothing but avoid Mother most days,” Miss Huda was saying. “The rest of my time I spend hiding from the governess. Or a series of grotesque suitors interested only in my dowry.”