I took slow sips of it; it was strong, dry and cold. The rest of the meal was passed in silence. It seemed this was not unusual. I glanced about, as covertly as I could, and surveyed the faces of those around me. Tallisk seemed to ignore me entirely, almost as if he had forgotten I was there at all—or forgotten that I was a newcomer, that I had not always been a fixed feature at his table. Yana and Doiran smiled at me, now and then, as we passed the bread-basket back and forth, but neither attempted to engage my conversation.
After the one question she’d asked me had been answered to her satisfaction, Isadel seemed to be more of Tallisk’s mind. She poked at her meal with the air of one who had already had all she desired that day, but endeavored to arrange it as if she had eaten more than she truly had. “Excuse me,” she said at last, rising from the table. Tallisk remained seated, still working at his lamb. She departed, presumably to her room. I watched her go; her robes were short enough to display a hint of the scarlet snake-tails tattooed upon her calves.
Looking at her felt like looking at my future, in a skewed mirror. It made me slightly dizzy. I wished that I could follow her; there were a thousand things I wanted to ask. How was it done, I wondered—what art had made the designs on her skin shimmer and breathe as if alive? And how badly did it hurt, to have such inscriptions made?
I could not trail her, though; even if she would welcome my prying, which I did not think she would, I would never excuse myself from the table while the master of the house still ate. It spoke to Isadel’s standing in the household, or perhaps merely its unusual habits, that she did without even a murmur of complaint.
Tallisk polished off his food and downed the last of his wine. I rose as he did, my plate long-emptied. His eyes finally seemed to take me in. “I’ll expect you at first light,” he said to me. “There is much work to be done.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, in a small voice.
It seemed to satisfy. He left the table and ascended, a little slower in his steps now a full belly weighed him down. Once he had gone, Doiran stood and shooed us out of the dining room.
“Go on,” he said. “I have to clear up. Why don’t you give Etan a tour of the house, eh?”
Once in the hall, Yana stuck her thumbs in her pockets and looked me with a sidelong smile. “So, a tour. Would you like that?”
I shook my head. “You shouldn’t feel—I mean, don’t worry if—”
“Don’t fret too much. You’ll settle in soon enough. We’re a good house, all in all, and Isadel’s not nearly as high-nosed as she seems. You two will get along just fine, given time.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I merely said, “Thank you.”
“Now come on, follow me. I’ll show you around. All of us are on the first floor, Master Tallisk on the second, and of course the atelier on the third. And you’ve not seen the library yet.”
I followed her; true to her word, she gave me a grand tour.
She took me up the stairs and down the narrow hallway. The carpets were deep and soft, of a rich red-brown color, and everywhere the lights burned. This, it seemed, was not a house concerned with its expenses. In his last year, my father had carefully hoarded his candles, straining his eyes to read by scarce-augmented moonlight.
“Mistress Keel...”
She made a face of comical disgust. “Oh, Gods! It’s Yana, if you please. Then I’ll forget you ever called me that.”
I smiled. “All right—Yana. May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Isadel—her Adornment—” I groped feebly for words. “Are all Adorned so...”
“Oh, yes.” Her face had become sober. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Beautiful, and strange.”
With that, I could only agree. “How is it done?”
“As to that, you’ll have to ask Master Tallisk. It isn’t something I am privy to. Here we are,” she said, and she halted before a vivid
After the one question she’d asked me had been answered to her satisfaction, Isadel seemed to be more of Tallisk’s mind. She poked at her meal with the air of one who had already had all she desired that day, but endeavored to arrange it as if she had eaten more than she truly had. “Excuse me,” she said at last, rising from the table. Tallisk remained seated, still working at his lamb. She departed, presumably to her room. I watched her go; her robes were short enough to display a hint of the scarlet snake-tails tattooed upon her calves.
Looking at her felt like looking at my future, in a skewed mirror. It made me slightly dizzy. I wished that I could follow her; there were a thousand things I wanted to ask. How was it done, I wondered—what art had made the designs on her skin shimmer and breathe as if alive? And how badly did it hurt, to have such inscriptions made?
I could not trail her, though; even if she would welcome my prying, which I did not think she would, I would never excuse myself from the table while the master of the house still ate. It spoke to Isadel’s standing in the household, or perhaps merely its unusual habits, that she did without even a murmur of complaint.
Tallisk polished off his food and downed the last of his wine. I rose as he did, my plate long-emptied. His eyes finally seemed to take me in. “I’ll expect you at first light,” he said to me. “There is much work to be done.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, in a small voice.
It seemed to satisfy. He left the table and ascended, a little slower in his steps now a full belly weighed him down. Once he had gone, Doiran stood and shooed us out of the dining room.
“Go on,” he said. “I have to clear up. Why don’t you give Etan a tour of the house, eh?”
Once in the hall, Yana stuck her thumbs in her pockets and looked me with a sidelong smile. “So, a tour. Would you like that?”
I shook my head. “You shouldn’t feel—I mean, don’t worry if—”
“Don’t fret too much. You’ll settle in soon enough. We’re a good house, all in all, and Isadel’s not nearly as high-nosed as she seems. You two will get along just fine, given time.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that, so I merely said, “Thank you.”
“Now come on, follow me. I’ll show you around. All of us are on the first floor, Master Tallisk on the second, and of course the atelier on the third. And you’ve not seen the library yet.”
I followed her; true to her word, she gave me a grand tour.
She took me up the stairs and down the narrow hallway. The carpets were deep and soft, of a rich red-brown color, and everywhere the lights burned. This, it seemed, was not a house concerned with its expenses. In his last year, my father had carefully hoarded his candles, straining his eyes to read by scarce-augmented moonlight.
“Mistress Keel...”
She made a face of comical disgust. “Oh, Gods! It’s Yana, if you please. Then I’ll forget you ever called me that.”
I smiled. “All right—Yana. May I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Isadel—her Adornment—” I groped feebly for words. “Are all Adorned so...”
“Oh, yes.” Her face had become sober. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Beautiful, and strange.”
With that, I could only agree. “How is it done?”
“As to that, you’ll have to ask Master Tallisk. It isn’t something I am privy to. Here we are,” she said, and she halted before a vivid
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