The Deathsinger: Book 2

Ch. 9: Claws and Fangs

Morana

I took extra care with my appearance while preparing for dinner that evening. Two baths were necessary. One to wash away the grime of several days, and another to soak my bones and wash my hair. The generous splash of moonrose oil in the water made my skin soft and smelling of summer nights in Edresh.

When I climbed out of the water the second time, I didn't feel like a creature made new. There were too many stains on my soul that a bath could not cleanse, but I at least felt competent enough to put on the show that would be required of me tonight. They had removed all remnants of the night before while I was gone. Even the bedding on my cot was freshly laundered, and as I sat before my mirror, it was easy to pretend that last night and this morning were nothing but dim memories of a nightmare.

But that's all it was. Pretending. Just like tonight. Everyone seated at the table would be pretending, and the winner would be the one who was most convincing. That should be easy enough for me, because as it turned out, I had been pretending all my life.

I selected one of the gowns Queen Thera gave me. A deep violet silk, several seasons out of fashion and far less modest than most court members would wear. The fabric also reeked of jasmine and sandalwood. I recognized it as a perfume sold on Market Street near the pleasure houses. All the dresses were the same.

No matter how I tugged at the square neckline, I could get it no higher than just above my nipples. Breathing deeply would not be on the menu tonight then. Not unless I wished to expose myself to the entire royal family, and while I might be trying to win their favor, there were better avenues to do so.

Sitting before my mirror, I set about repairing the damage to the skin below my eye. Touching it drew tears to my eyes. The small cut the book left behind was small, but the bruise forming around it was not. It spread across the soft tissue just below my eye and moved all the way down my cheekbone.

Blending the creams and powders I discovered in the trunk with the dresses, the worst of the discoloration faded. They were thicker and more pigmented than the cosmetics I remembered Astreia using, but if they belonged to the same woman who owned the dresses, it was likely she used it for a similar purpose. Queen Thera likely had a good laugh when she packed this trunk, never expecting it would actually be helpful.

I stared at my hair in dismay. Normally, I was quite vain about my hair. Nearly black, it hung to my waist in shining waves that Astreia loved to curl with a heated iron rod. So many of my first years at the palace had been spent tucked away in her room, playing with each other's hair and sharing dreams.

Now looking at my hair turned my stomach. My eyes drifted to the short patch below my ear, and even though it wasn't possible after only a few hours, I swore the white was growing more visible. If I could wear a cloak and hood through the entire meal, I would do it.

Instead, I picked up a brush, gathered the strands at the nape of my neck, and pinned the length into an elegant twist. It was simple and a little messy, giving it a well-worn appearance that I quite liked. But most importantly, it hid the patch of white.

Cool fingers curled over the bare portion of my shoulders, and my eyes flew to the mirror to find Kuga standing behind me. She leaned over and picked up a decorative hair comb I'd discarded for being too gaudy. Silver and encrusted with amethyst gems, its weight was noticeable as she slid it into the base of my hairdo.

"No," I protested, when I saw that her placement exposed the white patch.

She put her hand over mine as I tried to pull it out and shook her head. "Leave it."

"Why? They'll know."

"And?" She shrugged a sharp shoulder. "Does a lion hide its claws and fangs?"

"A lion was born with claws and fangs. I got this by doing something evil."