NOMI

THE BOOK WAS burning a hole through Nomi’s bed. She could feel its sharp corners keeping her awake at night, tempting her as Angeline slept. In the dark, Nomi’s heartbeat spoke in black ink and silken paper, her mind filled with a craving that grew more painful the longer she resisted. She wanted so much to steal a moment, steal a glance, but she left it where it was. It wasn’t worth the risk. She never forgot Serina’s face as she pretended to read the book of legends, or the sound of her scream as they dragged her away.

Nomi shook her head a little, trying to put the book from her mind. The trouble was, if she wasn’t thinking about the book, she was thinking about Asa. Did he help with all of the dance lessons, or just when the Heir was away? Would he be at the big horse race coming up? When would she see him again? She was determined to find a way to speak to him about Serina. She couldn’t afford to waste any more chances.

At that moment, she and the other new Graces were ensconced in one of the more private sitting rooms, with dim light and ceramic bowls of warm water set in front of the upholstered chairs. The new Graces were supposed to be learning how to give foot massages by practicing on one another.

With a firm grip, Nomi slid her thumbs, slicked with oil, up the center of Cassia’s foot.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think you might actually be getting better,” Cassia said, letting out a little sigh as she dropped her head back against the seat.

Nomi fought the urge to rake her fingernails down the girl’s foot. But she smiled wryly and said, “It’s about time I got something right,” as if she actually cared about such things.

Maris made a noise in the back of her throat. “I hate feet.” She was practicing on her handmaiden, who kept giggling because Maris wasn’t pressing hard enough. “I can’t believe we’re expected to do this. It’s disgusting.”

The handmaiden’s foot jerked as Maris hit another sensitive spot. “Sorry,” she muttered.

Cassia lowered her feet into the bowl of water. “I think it’s sensual.”

Nomi wiped off her hands, her own level of disgust somewhere in between the other girls’.

“My turn,” Cassia said. She patted Nomi on the head like a dog as she stood up. They switched places. Nomi sank into the soft chair and set her bare feet on the toweled footstool.

But before Cassia could start, Ines’s shadow filled the doorway. “The Heir has returned,” she announced. Nomi’s heart jolted.

“He’d like to see you, Cassia,” Ines added.

Nomi let out a breath. Thank the stars she wasn’t first this time.

Cassia swept toward the door, throwing a smug grin over her shoulder. Maris made a scoffing noise in her throat as Cassia left.

Nomi leaned forward to stretch out her spine before collapsing back into the cushioned chair. She closed her eyes and tried to block out thoughts of Serina, Asa, Malachi’s return… everything. She’d had so few opportunities growing up to just sit in a comfortable chair and breathe. Her parents both worked at the textile factory and Renzo was in school, so it had fallen to her to keep the house clean, go to the market for food, prepare their meals, and wash up afterward.

Maris’s handmaiden giggled again. Maris threw down her pumice stone in disgust. The man by the door shifted his weight.

“Are you okay?” Nomi asked quietly. She glanced at the pale, white-clad man at the door briefly, wondering what he thought of them.

Maris used a towel to mop up the oil on her hands. “I wish we could walk on the beach, or swim,” she grumbled. “I feel like I’m waiting for a storm that’s hovering just offshore, and it never gets any closer.”

Nomi smoothed her hands over the tops of her own feet, trying to rub the remnants of oil from her fingers. She said, “The Heir’s birthday is only a few weeks away. After that…”

After that, they’d be required to fulfill their full duties as Graces. Nomi shivered.

They sat in silence for a long time, neither of them eager to move on to the next task. Nomi had almost drifted to sleep, exhausted by her own thoughts, when Maris stood up with a jerk. “I’m covered in this oil, and the smell is making me sick. I’m going to take a bath.”

“I should probably wash up too,” Nomi said. The trade winds had died the night before, and her skin was sticky from the warm, humid air, her mind thick with fears of Malachi’s birthday and what she’d be expected to do.

Nomi and Maris strolled through the quiet, opulent rooms, their handmaidens following silently. Even Angeline was quiet when they were in the common areas. The Superior’s men dotted each room, part of the furniture and yet not—Nomi could never forget that they reported everything to the Superior.

When they reached the pool, Nomi and Maris removed their clothes with the help of their handmaidens. At Nomi’s nod, Angeline slipped outside, with Maris’s handmaiden following suit. Even the male servant stepped outside the room, though he lingered just beyond the doorway. Maris plopped into the water with a little groan, sending ripples across its surface. Nomi joined her.

“Do you like it here?” Maris asked. Her black hair shone against the surface of the water like an oil slick.

Nomi hugged herself, the movement causing ripples to fan out across the bathing pool’s surface. She watched them hit the curved marble edge until the last one died. If Cassia had asked, Nomi would have said yes. But for some reason, with Maris, she felt safe telling the truth. “I hate it,” she whispered so the man outside wouldn’t hear her. “I miss my sister, my family.… My brother and I were born minutes apart. We’d never spent more than a day without each other in seventeen years. And my sister—” Her voice broke. She couldn’t talk about Serina.

Maris stared for a long time at the shadow of the man in the doorway. “My mother used to tell me that raging against a life you can’t change only hurts you.” Her voice hitched. “But she was lucky. She died young.”

“I’m so sorry,” Nomi said. Something about Maris’s fixed glare made her heart beat too fast. Nomi realized she was scared. Scared Maris would say something she shouldn’t. Scared she herself might too.

Maris’s voice flowed across the water, inexorable. “I could have been happy here. But my father, he… he ruined everything.” Her mouth snapped shut.

Before Nomi could ask what she meant, a handful of the Superior’s Graces entered the bathing room. Maris pasted a smile on her face, and it was as if the girl she’d been only a moment before had evaporated.

Nomi wasn’t the only one with a secret here, she realized. Maris had one too.