Chapter 26 An Unlikely Ally #2
The knowledge chilled her. Eel ink was one of the most venomous substances on the Isle. That Cordelia had possessed it and used it only now suggested that Edmea might not have been her intended target.
There hadn’t been time for Demelza to ask whether Cordelia had intended the poison for Arris, but just the thought made her chest tighten. She imagined his open grin going slack and pictured death’s gray filming over his brown eyes. All the poison needed was a drop of the target’s blood.
“How would Cordelia know where you kept your supply of sylke to make your gowns?” asked Demelza. “And didn’t you keep it under lock? How could she have broken into it?”
The first day the contestants had arrived, the attendants had warned them to keep their possessions safely stowed.
After all, contestants would not be penalized for attempting to murder one another.
They would only be punished if they were caught.
And while there had initially been concerns about the whole contest dissolving into a bloodbath, it had appeared that to the majority of the contestants, murder seemed messy and, frankly, unsatisfying.
Edmea looked at the ground, embarrassed. “We shared a suite and she was so … well, adoring and all, so I—I’m actually a very nice person, you know—I might have shown her where I keep things to, well, show her what I have and what she … doesn’t?”
“You’re the portrait of kindness,” said Demelza.
Edmea plucked at her shift. There were odd bits of paper rolled up in her pink hair. A greasy, thick paste was under her eyes. It was incredibly unfair that even now Edmea looked knowledgeable and poised, while Demelza looked like a scruffy child waiting for a pat on the head.
“Right,” said Demelza. “I’ll leave you, then—”
“What? Just like that?” asked Edmea.
“I’ve already saved your life—you’re welcome, by the way—and I can’t imagine what else you’d want from me,” said Demelza. “Surely my very presence must be hard to stomach.”
Something flashed across Edmea’s features. If Demelza hadn’t known any better, she might have said it was shame. When Edmea said nothing, Demelza turned toward the door, only for the other girl to grab her wrist.
“I…” Edmea cleared her throat and her familiar haughty expression took hold. “I refuse to be in your debt. You must ask something of me. What do you want in thanks?”
“Nothing,” said Demelza.
This was a lie. In every glance, Demelza was trying to hoard all the ways Edmea comported herself. Where had she gotten that shift? Should Demelza have one? What were those things in her hair? What was that stuff on her face?
Araminta had taught these refinements to her sisters, but she had never gotten around to showing Demelza.
Her mother had never expected her to have use for them.
Clearly, her mother was right. No one expected Demelza to dazzle crowds or embody the essence of elegance.
Arris hadn’t even believed that she had secured her own victory during the second trial.
Over the course of the tournament, what had surprised Demelza over and over was not the magic of her surroundings or the people she encountered … but herself.
She wanted to keep surprising.
“There must be something I can give you,” Edmea continued. “Truly, I cannot have this hanging over my head, the gravity of it all will cause my skin to sag, which would be unconscionable—”
“Teach me,” said Demelza.
Edmea paused. “What?”
“Teach me how to…” Demelza gestured at Edmea’s room and then Edmea herself before her words trailed off.
It wasn’t that Demelza felt embarrassed or ashamed to ask for such a thing, but she also didn’t like being looked at so pointedly.
Growing up, every lingering gaze from her parents was so full of concern that Demelza wondered if all she inspired was pity rather than potential. She did not want Edmea to pity her.
“You’re serious,” said Edmea. There was no jest in her voice.
Demelza nodded.
“I don’t know what you expect from my instruction,” said Edmea.
“Do you imagine that you shall emerge from your chrysalis of poor clothing choices and tactless manners and suddenly be an exquisite butterfly simply because you would have me and my considerable prowess to instruct you? And how fast do you suppose I could even manage such a feat? A matter of days? You really think I could do such a thing?”
The words did not sound particularly kind, but Edmea was grinning in the manner of a cat that had seen a juicy and slow-moving mouse.
“Fine, I’ll do it,” said Edmea. “It’d be nice to have some real competition anyway. But don’t expect that we’re suddenly going to become friends or that I’ve harbored some desire to get to know you because I find you a bit threatening or anything.”
“That was very specific,” said Demelza, who was trying to keep the delight off her face.
Edmea frowned, as if she hadn’t meant to say that. Perhaps when Demelza had shouted, it had let loose the barest bit of truth magic.
“Right, well, let’s start with your gait. I have seen drunk animals walk with more grace,” said Edmea. “I must know, is your whole clumsy infant deer thing an act? If so, cease.”
“I’m not clumsy!”
“Oh, I suppose that’s true, you just seem like you would be clumsy.”
“Thanks,” said Demelza, scowling.
Edmea circled her. Demelza wondered if this was how prey felt.
“That mud is nearly gone,” said Edmea, poking at Demelza’s braid. “I could almost do something with this … and the shade isn’t dyed?”
“No?” said Demelza. She glanced at Edmea’s pink hair. “Is yours?”
“Never ask another girl whether her hair is real,” said Edmea. “If you wish to draw attention to its obvious artifice, do so with a compliment and do so loudly. And if you are confronted in a crude fashion, always be honest. It’s not like there’s any shame in it.”
“When I asked to be taught, I didn’t mean—”
“Shh!” said Edmea. Her eyes were bright and Demelza had the impression that she was warming to the request a little too well. “You shall be the recipient of all my wisdom and you shall be grateful for it.”
Edmea stopped circling her. She looked Demelza in the eye. “They say you are the daughter of a minor lord in the Vale, but I have spent all my life there and I have never seen you. Where are you really from?”
“My home is right beside the Vale,” said Demelza.
This was true.
“Hmm,” said Edmea. She shrugged. “Keep your secrets, then. When I am queen, I shall find out and then you may go back to your strange little village and tell everyone how benevolent I am.”
Edmea clapped her hands. “Now. You want to look striking when you enter a room, Demelza. You don’t want to leave the room stricken—”
“I don’t leave the room stricken,” said Demelza.
Edmea ignored this. “We shall begin with a lesson on colors. I would ask if you are familiar with them as a concept, but judging from that yellow gown you wore the other day I am forced to assume otherwise.”