Chapter 40
I wake with the dawn, golden light spilling into my box bed, and stare at the painted ceiling, thinking.
I need to set the bookstore to rights, now that the seventh and final prince has come and gone, but there’s something I’ve been planning for a while—since Calla’s kiss—and now the final piece has fallen into place.
I know I can expect Sasha to show up about a few hours after sunrise, as it’s not a school day, for some reason known only to the town council, so I have to set everything up by then.
I run up to the third floor and do as much Astebani formal cleaning as I can by myself, lay down the rugs they left behind, and then run back downstairs to clean myself off.
I dress carefully and send the bluecaps up to the third floor, and then wait by the door.
The princes arrive—mercifully without the trumpeters this time.
Astebaen explains that his parents allowed him to come in the company of the other princes, and are spending the morning in prayer and seclusion.
I curtsy and thank each of them. Three kiss my knuckles in response.
Calla winks at me. I direct them all upstairs to wait.
Sasha arrives just after the temple bells toll the hour.
“You’re all dressed up,” she remarks, taking in my gown. I’m wearing one of Mrs. Gooch’s very old-fashioned gowns, one which is old enough that its age alone gives it the air of formality.
“I’ve got a surprise for you,” I say.
“Oohhh…kay,” she says.
“But you have to promise to ask Amaritha to the end-of-year ball before I give it to you.”
Sasha blushes. “I mean, we haven’t really talked about it.”
“No surprise unless you agree,” I say, affecting sternness.
“What if she says no?”
“Has she said no to anything yet?” I point out.
“Well, no, but that doesn’t mean…I don’t know.”
“Just promise me you’ll ask,” I say.
Sasha blushes. “Fine, I promise.”
I lead Sasha upstairs, to the third floor. I don’t have any way to thank her for her months of hard work and moodiness and friendship, not really, but at least I can do this.
The seven princes are arranged along the walls, each holding a bundle. Some look a little more keen than the others, but every one of them has been willing to participate. Yenny and Driz have even been eager.
“What…is…happening?” Sasha whispers, as she gazes at them, eyes wide.
I turn to her and deliver one of my deeper curtsies.
“Si’masasha Samish’et, in recognition of your hard work these last five months, and in keen awareness that you have an important year-end ball on the horizon and nothing to wear for it, the seven princes of the realm—and one cursed princess—would each like to give you a gift, in the hope that you will be able to attend this ball—and perhaps many to come—in full confidence and, uh, joy. ”
“Joy?” she repeats. I nod, and then turn and bow to Driz.
Driz steps forward and hands Sasha his bundle. Her cheeks flush dark green with emotion as she unrolls it: a bolt of pure black velvet, the finest in the eight kingdoms.
“Oh,” she murmurs.
Hamish steps forward next and gives her his gift: eight yards of black lace. “Tatted by the scions of the Two Mountains,” he explains, before stepping back.
Yenny’s gift is pure-black wool.
“I’m sorry not to give you wool from my own Blues,” he says, “but their wool is inconveniently sky blue. My kingdom is also deservedly well-known for its midnight-black sheep, however, so I had some sent up.”
“Oh my green dragon goddess,” Sasha breathes.
Bel gives Sasha a vial of one of the perfumes that the city-state of the Five-Fold Night is famous for. “It’s called Ossuary,” he says. “Heart notes of bergamot and dust. Inspired by the works of the Great Poet himself.”
“Oh,” she gasps. Perfumes from the Five-Fold Night are unfathomably valuable.
Ternis steps forward next. “A gift from my people,” he says grandly, and hands her a single, perfect jet stone. “From the shores of the Sea of Endless Light.”
Calla smiles. “A Mezothin dagger,” she says, handing it to Sasha by its black enamel haft. “A symbol of eternal respect and friendship.”
“Gosh,” Sasha says, looking close to tears as she accepts it. The only non-Mezothin I know who’s ever received one as a gift is my own Honeyrose, and she won’t tell me what she did to earn it.
Finally, Astebaen, who bows and, with color in his cheeks, steps forward to offer her a ceremonial Astebani belt—black, of course. He bows again and then, clearly overcome, steps back without offering a word.
Sasha, tears glimmering in her eyes, turns to me and smiles. “How did you do all this?”
“You delivered the letters for me,” I say, smiling back. “About a week ago.”
“Honestly, Tandy, this is, like, life-changing.” She throws her arms around me and hugs me, hard; she’s a big dracone, even if she’s still only fifteen, and it’s a bone-crunching hug.
“You changed my life,” I say, hugging her back. “It’s the least I could do.”