Blue rounds on me again, then stops at the look Cat-girl gives her. With a toss of her hair, she stalks back into the house, leaving a trail of wet footprints across the courtyard’s boarded floor.
As soon as Cat-girl releases me, I whirl around to face her. “You should’ve let me claw her face off!” I growl.
She regards me coolly. “Perhaps.” Then she turns to leave, pausing first to add, “I am getting tired of that sneer.”
The comment—almost humorous—disarms me, and I watch her go in silence. Damp hair cascades in a tousle to the low dip of her back. Her bathrobe has come off one shoulder to reveal a curve of smooth tanned skin, rosy-brown. I gave her the nickname Cat-girl because of the shape of her eyes, the keen, feline intelligence in them. But the way she moves is catlike, too. My eyes track her shifting hips, an unfamiliar warmth turning my belly.
“Mistress!” Lill grabs my arm, making me start. “Are you all right?”
“What’s that girl’s name?” I ask distractedly.
She follows my gaze. “Oh, Mistress Wren? I thought you might have heard of her already.”
This makes me look round. “Why?”
“Mistress Wren is the daughter of Lord and Lady Hanno.”
I recall the two blue-caped men on horseback I saw on the road to the palace. No wonder Blue listens to Cat-girl. If she really is a Hanno, the most powerful Paper caste clan in the kingdom—and daughter of their leader, no less—it explains why she’s been acting so superior.
Not that it condones it.
“Wren,” I murmur to myself, testing the name. It’s wrong, too gentle on the tongue. Wrens are the noisy little birds that fly in pairs around our house in Xienzo, all chirping and dull brown feathers. The word doesn’t seem to fit this silent, solitary girl, who is more like the cat that would stalk the birds before pouncing.
After breakfast, Mistress Eira calls us for our first lesson. Lill prepares me carefully. She fixes my hair into a sleek double-knot at the nape of my neck before dressing me in a fuchsia ruqun—a wrap-front shirt with draped sleeves and a floor-length skirt, secured by a sash that falls down its front in a long-tailed bow. Apparently it’s another clothing style popular with central Ikhara’s high-class clans, but I am stiff and self-conscious in it, even though the fabric is soft.
“I’m not even leaving the house!” I say as Lill fusses over the bow for a good few minutes. “Does it have to be perfect?”
She shoots me a surprisingly stern look. “You’re a Paper Girl now, Mistress. You never know who you might run into. Who is judging you at any time.” Then she lightens. “You know, it’s important you win the favor of the court if you want to win the Demon King’s heart.”
“Like he even has one,” I mutter when she’s out of earshot.
The other girls are already there when I arrive at Mistress Eira’s suite. They’re kneeling around a table with a stove set into the middle, steam rising from a copper kettle. On the walls are richly colored rolls of velvet and embroidered satin, all fluttering in the breeze coming in through the open doors at the back of the room. Through them, I glimpse the green of a courtyard garden, speckled with morning light.
“Lei-zhi, what a beautiful outfit,” Mistress Eira says with a smile. She motions to a space next to Aoki. “Would you like some barley tea? I know how you girls must be feeling after yesterday’s assessments. There’s nothing better for nerves.”
I kneel, careful to fold my skirt under the back of my legs so it won’t fan out. Then, realizing what I’m doing, I let out a disbelieving laugh. Just a week ago I was squatting in a mixing tub, covered in dirt. Manners and etiquette were the last things on my mind.
Mistress Eira lifts a brow. “Something amusing, Lei-zhi?”
“Oh.” I pick at the tails of my bow under the table. “I was just… remembering something that happened earlier.”
A few of the girls stiffen—they must be worried I’m going to bring up what happened in the bathing courtyard. But that’s the last thing I want Mistress Eira to know about. I highly doubt fighting is on the list of skills a Paper Girl should cultivate. Oh, hey, King! Check out my amazing whip kick!
“I keep tripping in my shoes,” I make up lamely.
Mistress Eira nods. “Ah, yes. I remember. It took me a long time to get used to them, too.” She looks around the table, and even this, the simple sweep of her head, has an elegance to it, a precision. “I don’t know how much you all know about my heritage. Most of you are from prominent families. You’ve grown up with the customs of the court. But I spent my childhood working for my family’s sari-making business in southern Kitori. When I first arrived at the palace, I was as graceful as a duck drunk on plum wine, heavens help me.”
A few of the girls titter.
“No one would know, Mistress,” Blue says, her tone honeyed. “My father told me you were the King’s favorite.”
Aoki lets out a cough that sounds suspiciously like a snort.
Ignoring her, Blue continues, “Didn’t he personally choose you to become the Paper Girl mentor so we could all learn to be like you?”
“Well, I’m not sure about that,” Mistress Eira replies with a half smile. “But it’s true my transformation was pronounced. It took a lot of hard work and dedication to prove myself. That’s why I take my job as your mentor so seriously. Whatever your backgrounds, you start at the same level here. Madam Himura and I have organized a rigorous timetable of lessons. You’ll be replaced by new girls next year, but you’re still expected to work in the court—as performers, or escorts for the King’s guests, and so on—so it’s important to keep cultivating your nu skills.”
Just then, one of the girls speaks up. “Will we have any time off, Mistress Eira? I have a cousin who works in City Court. I promised my parents I’d visit her.”
It takes me a moment to recall her name: Chenna, the dark-skinned girl who was wearing an orange dress—a sari, as Lill later explained, a style popular in the Southern provinces—the night we arrived. Today, her sari is citrus-yellow. It sets off the smooth gloss of her skin, the coal shade of her wide, heavy-lashed eyes.
“You’ll have some time between your lessons and engagements with the court,” Mistress Eira answers, “but it’s important for you”—she turns to us—“for all of you, to understand that you don’t have free time to yourselves here in the palace. You can’t just leave Women’s Court as and when you like.” Her voice softens. “Don’t get me wrong. You can live very happy lives as Paper Girls, I assure you. I myself have. But we are all part of the rhythms and workings of the palace, and so we must play the parts expected of us.”
She begins a lecture on some of the palace’s many rules and regulations. There are rules for things I wouldn’t even have thought of, such as the depth of a bow or the speed at which we should walk in different areas of the palace.
“Soon she’ll say we have to regulate our bowel movements, too,” I whisper to Aoki, who stifles a giggle.
“This is just an introduction, of course,” Mistress Eira says once she’s finished with the lesson, a full hour later. “You’ll learn everything else you need to know from your teachers in due course. But does anyone have any questions for now?”