“What happened to politeness and decorum?” I mumble through tears.
She squeezes me tighter. “Oh, be quiet, you little nuisance.”
It’s almost like being back in Xienzo. I’m wrapped in everything I’ve been missing so badly, the smell and feel and love of my lost home, and none of us needs to say anything because everything we could say is contained here, within the press of our bodies.
Then the guards wrestle us apart.
“No!” I yell, thrashing.
Around us, the guests are stopping to look. The guards don’t hold my father and Tien once we’re separated, just reaching out arms to keep them back, but the gorilla-form guard who’s got me restrains me a bit too tightly, his huge furred hands easily spanning my shoulder blades.
“We were instructed to keep you apart,” he tells me, pulling me away.
“Wait!” I cry. Baba and Tien look horrified, and I want just one more moment with them—even half a minute, a few seconds, just enough to tell them everything will be all right. But the guard is twice my size, and gods know how many times stronger, and soon I’m on the far side of the hall.
When he lets me go, I jerk away, puffing aside a loose lock of hair.
“I will wait with you,” he says, the leathery skin of his face impassive.
Glowering, I turn away. There’s no point in trying to get to Baba and Tien again, but I still look into the crowd, standing on my toes to try to catch another glimpse. Instead, I spot the sloping gait of Kenzo stalking toward me.
In an instant, everything stills.
Kenzo gives the guard a glance, but keeps his expression neutral as he strides past me, just close enough for me to feel the brush of his fur—and to slip something into my hand. Keeping it low so the guard won’t see, I open my fingers. Inside: an origami bird.
A wren.
It’s time.
With a deep inhale, I tuck the paper bird into my sleeve. But as I’m about to move, the music stops. Raised voices are suddenly loud in the quiet, and there is the clink of glasses being set down, murmurs of surprise, the trailing ends of laughter.
“Heavenly Master and honorable court members,” announces an invisible voice, magically magnified. “Our esteemed guests. Please make your way to the stage for a special performance by this year’s Paper Girls.”
Fingers pinch my shoulders. “Come on, girl,” snaps Madam Himura’s hoarse voice. “The others are already dressed.”
My stomach drops. The dance Madam Chu’s been teaching us to perform tonight. I’d forgotten all about it.
Ignoring my objections, Madam Himura drags me across the hall and out onto the balcony, broader here at the back of the building, where a curved, weblike cage arcs overhead. A stage is set up beneath it, polished floor shining.
She pushes me into a curtained-off area where the other girls are waiting. “Get her into her costume,” she orders the maids.
I try to object, but they crowd me, peeling my cheongsam off. They re-dress me in the multilayered gold robes of our dance costume. One of the maids picks at my hairstyle and the braid loosens. I clutch at my hair, swirling round just in time to see the blade fall. Light catches on its edge. Then it’s hidden by the skirts of the maids as they usher me toward the other girls.
Panic unfurls, fast and hot.
“Please!” I say, batting them off me. “I can’t do the dance! I need to go!”
Holding up the hem of her long skirt, Mistress Eira hurries to my side. “Lei? What’s wrong?”
From behind the curtain, the musicians start playing. The murmuring of the crowd mutes as a melody rises.
Mistress Eira smiles. “There’s no need to be nervous. Your dancing has improved so much over the past few months. You should be proud.”
I crane my head to look past her, hardly hearing what she’s saying. The blade glitters on the crystal floor, picked out by the aquamarine glow of the lake. “I—I dropped something,” I say.
“There’ll be plenty of time to get it after the performance.”
“It can’t wait. Mistress, please…”
And finally, she follows my gaze.
There’s a long pause. She asks, sharp, “Is that yours?”
“Yes,” I whisper.
In one quick movement, Mistress Eira goes over and snatches the blade from the floor, swiftly hiding it in the folds of her robes. Her mouth is set so tightly her lips have almost disappeared. “I am going to dispose of this, and you are going to go out onto the stage and perform as though this never happened. Do you understand me, Lei-zhi?”
That first night I arrived at the palace, Mistress Eira’s use of the Paper Girls’ honorific with my name was given with pride. Now it stings.
Know your place, she is telling me. Remember who it is you are.
I flex my fingers. Because I know exactly who I am, and it is not the perfect Paper Girl she wants me to be.
My gaze hardens. “Did you even try to send my letters?” I ask icily.
She just blinks.
“I thought as much.” Then I turn my back on her, taking my place in the line of girls.
A moment later, the music swirls into a new chord. Our cue. One by one, we pad onto the stage, our arms raised high, the trailing sleeves of our costumes hiding our faces, and one of us hiding something more—a sinking heart, a pang in her chest, and the feeling that everything she has been fighting for has been lost.
THIRTY-FIVE
MADAM CHU EXPLAINED THAT THE DANCE we’re performing tonight is another symbolism of purification for the new year, though it seems to me more a way for the Demon King to show us off to his guests.
Over the course of the dance, each layer of our costumes is shed. Every robe we remove has to be cast off in the careful way we were taught, the fabric rippling through the air, a shining arc of gold in the lantern glow. Beneath the last layer is a thin slip that barely hides our modesty. As the best dancer of our group, Wren was chosen to have center stage during this final act to offer her last layer to the King, but in her absence Chenna was given the role. She moves gracefully across the stage, dark skin luminous under the lights. The mesmerized faces of the crowd follow her. But as she flutes out her wrist, angling her throw just right so her discarded robe settles in the lap of the King, it isn’t her he’s watching. It’s me.
Me his eyes are fixed upon, bright and dangerous.
Me he coils his lips back at in a smile that shows every one of his teeth.
Hatred pulses inside me, a dark heartbeat. I might not have a weapon anymore, but I still have my fists. During our midnight lessons, Wren’s shown me just how effective a properly angled kick to the groin can be. It won’t be enough to take down the King. But it’ll give me enough time to find the blade he always carries and turn it against him.
We leave the stage to the applause of the crowd. As soon as we’re behind the curtain, I hurry past the swarm of maids, ignoring the curious looks of the other girls as I head back into the ball, still just wearing the tiny gold slip. At least it’ll be easier to run in than that ridiculous cheongsam.
I haven’t gone far when the sound of my name makes me look round.
Aoki’s followed me. “What’s wrong?” she asks, her breath catching. “Why haven’t you changed back into your dress?” Her face is flushed from dancing, a gloss to her vivid emerald eyes. She looks radiant. Queenly.