Nemesis by Anna Banks

Author:Anna Banks [Banks, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Published: 2016-10-04T04:00:00+00:00

29

SEPORA

Cara and Anku call my name just as I expel the last of my morning’s spectorium down the lavatory. I resolve to wake up early each morning for this; I simply cannot get caught Forging, even if Cara knows what I am. Expelling in the evenings and in the mornings has served me well so far, but I must take care to be more cautious—especially since the door to my bedchamber does not lock from the inside.

For the next hour, they both fuss over me to no end. They’ve somehow prepared several ensembles for me to wear to court, all of which are made of blue linen but with differing designs. Some have gold embroidered into the waistline; some have extravagant beaded bib collars; and others have the sheer, flowing material that will trail behind me. It’s the latter of the dresses they choose for me for court today. After I’m dressed, Anku takes great care in arranging my hair and Cara paints my face with silvers and blacks and blues. When I look into the mirror, I do not recognize myself. My eyes are lined with black, my face is brushed with silver, and blue dots form an almost imperceptible mask around my face. What an odd sense of style these Theorians have. Then, I’ve seen what the king wears. Gold and black mostly, and I hadn’t even realized he had hair until last night when he removed his golden headdress. Not that I imagined him bald, but, well … I didn’t imagine his hair to make him appear so … attractive, disarrayed as it was.

“Are you sure this is what a servant is supposed to wear?” I ask, holding my arms out and inspecting the sheer material that looks like draping wings behind me. It’s a ridiculous thing for an attendant of an attendant to have attendants. But then I remember that I’m acting in Rashidi’s stead, and he most certainly has attendants.

Anku shakes her head. “You’re not just any servant; you’re a royal adviser. Since Master Rashidi is away, you’re taking his place.”

“I’m Rashidi’s attendant,” I say, purposely leaving off the master part. I don’t care if Rashidi is a Healer, Majai, and Lingot all wrapped in one grumpy old being—he’s not my master. “I’m not an adviser of any kind.”

Cara places hands on hips. “The Falcon King himself requested you to be dressed properly for court, Mistress Sepora. If you please, you can take issue with him.”

“The guards are ready to take you,” Anku says. “Court will open shortly.”

* * *

Court is fantastically boring. Even the Falcon King appears disinterested in the petty plights of his citizens. And who am I to point accusing fingers? These noblemen and women can hardly eat their morning meal without finding something over which to squabble. Still, Anku had called me a royal adviser. If I’m to act in Rashidi’s stead, perhaps I should actually advise the king of my opinion. The problem is, I’m not familiar with Theoria’s laws, and the ones I am familiar with, I find utterly ridiculous.

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