It was Dolana, at the salt farm, who first told me about the gaze of men: that look of temporary possession that some men pressed against female flesh. About its dangers and possibilities. I) can be
used to survive, Dolana had said softly showing me the power that lay in reflecting a man's desire. And even at twelve years old, the knowledge of it was already in the way I moved my head, my hands, my shoulders. But Dolana had whispered her secrets to a girl. And I had to become a boy I had to stop being alert to the turn of a man's head towards me. Stop glancing up to meet his gaze in fleeting connection. Stop falsely veiling my eyes from his momentary interest. It was hard to train out of my body, but I practised and learned to cloak myself in the skin and gaze of a boy
Now that boy had to become a lord.
I let my hair drop down around my face and turned my back on the mirror, carefully taking the first step into the pool. The water closed around my feet, shins, thighs, and then I lowered the rest of my body into its warmth. A sigh eased out of me. It would be hard to act the part of a lord, but at this time everyone would expect me to be ignorant and awkward. I would do as I did before — find someone to watch and copy And my master would help me. I remembered the feel of his thigh and hip pressed against mine, and skimmed my fingers across the water to break the sensation.
The warmth settled into my thoughts and body, softening my pain and unfocusing my mind. I sat on the low underwater ledge that had been built into the sides and leaned my head back until my neck rested on the tiled edge of the pool. The room was almost perfectly balanced; no heavy furniture to block the dragon energy, the pool shaped to enhance the circular flow of Hua, and the mirror to compensate for the shortened wall. No doubt a Dragoneye had been consulted on its design. I let the heat rise through me, easing open my mind's-eye. The dragons shimmered into being in a circle around the bath. They were almost all the same size, their energy flows unencumbered. It was strange. They seemed to fit the space they were in
— as big as buildings in the arena, but here only halfway to the ceiling. And the Mirror Dragon — my dragon — was always twice as big as the others.
I stood up, trying to see him through the steam. His dark eyes drew me closer, his head tilted to one side, questioning. I pushed slowly through the water towards him, but my view did not clear. It was not steam obscuring my eyes. It was a haze that hung over the dragon like a sheer curtain, 'iet the other dragons were clear in my sight.
Behind me, the sound of a soft knock and the door opening jolted me out of my mind-sight. I turned, ducking down into the water.
Rilla bustled in with folded drying sheets draped over her arms.
'What's wrong?' she asked, pressing the door shut with her back.
'You startled me.' I waded to the steps. 'I thought you might have been someone else.'
'No, Lady Dela has made it very clear to the other servants that your living areas are never to be entered,' Rilla said.
She shook out the sheet and held it up.
'You shouldn't be doing that with your sore hands,' I said.
'I'm all right. Now come on, we've got to get you dry and dressed.'
I stepped into the dry warmth of the sheet, pulling the edges around my body.
'Has this been heated?' I asked, stroking the thick cotton.
'Of course,' Rilla said, rubbing my back dry through the cloth. 'Do you think I'd let the new Lord Dragoneye get a cold arse when he stepped out of the bath? For shame.'
We looked at each other and giggled.
After I was dry, Rilla wrapped a clean sheet around me and oiled my hair, deftly braiding it onto the crown of my head in a shortened version of the Dragoneye double loop.
'It's the best I can do with your length,' she said, stepping back to consider her work.
'How do you know how to do it?' I asked.
_
She smiled. 'I was the master's body servant when he was the Tiger Dragoneye. Quite a few years ago now, but I still remember the hairstyle.' She smoothed a stubborn kink near my ear, her smile widening. 'Of course, these days the master does not need a hairdresser.'
I smothered another giggle. Lords did not giggle. 'Still, he will be missing you,' I said.
Her eyes slid from mine, the light moment gone. 'Perhaps. But he saw a chance to protect you here. That is what is important. And Irsa has been waiting for her chance to move higher.' She picked up the wet bath sheet and shook it out roughly 'The master will not want for attention.'
She opened the door and led the way through the narrow corridor to a nearby dressing chamber. It was a small room, dominated by a large clothes press that had one sliding screen door open showing stacks of white underwear and folded hose. Next to it, a shabby basket was pushed against the wall. My old belongings from the master's house. Folded across the top were my best tunic and trousers, the faded dark cloth showing the neat patches.
Rilla's gaze followed mine. 'It came yesterday I did not know what you wanted to keep.'
I ran to it, propelled by a sudden need to touch my old things. 'Where are my ancestors' death plaques?' I asked, raking through the basket. 'I need to make an altar. I need to honour them.' I dug harder. 'I need their protection.'
Rilla crossed the room and stopped my frantic burrowing with a gentle hand. 'They are there, my lord. Safely wrapped at the bottom. I packed them myself. I'll prepare an altar for you.'
She eased me back. All right?'
I nodded, turning away from the tumbled basket to face a large mirror on a stand in the opposite corner. Ignoring my pale reflection, I focused on a wooden rack beside it, shaped like the torso of a man and hung with a magnificent three-quarter-length robe. The rich emerald silk had been woven thick with peacocks, butterflies, flowers and a large waterfall with gold fish jumping through it.
'Am I to wear this?' I asked, shocked.
Rilla nodded.
'But it's a Story Robe.'
I had seen them worn by nobles on their way to court celebrations; priceless works of art passed from father to son and often worth a whole estate.
'It was delivered while you were bathing,' Rilla said, closing the door. A gift from the Emperor. He chose it for you himself. It's called 'A Summer Waterfall Brings Harmony to the Soul'.' Her voice lowered in awe. 'It has even been re-tailored for you. Can you imagine the work?'
'It's from the Emperor?' Gingerly, I touched the edge of a wide silk sleeve. Something deep within me knew that it was both wonderful and dangerous to receive such a gift from the Heavenly Master.
Rilla turned to the clothes press and selected a pair of white undershorts. 'Here, put these on,'
she said, passing them to me. She pulled a rolled strip of cloth out of her pocket. 'I've brought extra breast- bands with me. I'll store them with my things. To be safe.'
I nodded and pulled up the shorts, tying off the silk drawstring. They were made from fine linen.
'Such beautiful cloth for underthings,' I murmured, rolling the delicate weave between my fingers.
'You should have seen the silk in storage for the court ladies. I've never seen such embroidery'
Rilla moved behind me. 'Hold up your arms.'
She wrapped the band around my chest firmly, flattening my breasts against the underlying ribs until there were no curves to be seen. I winced as she pulled hard on the last layer and tied the cloth under my arm. Too bad I could not be rid of my womanly shape. It only brought me danger and pain.
'Is it tight enough?' she asked.
I ran my hands over the unforgiving bandage and took a breath, feeling the familiar constriction in my chest. 'It's good.'
Dressing in court robes was a lengthy affair. By the time Rilla had positioned the sleeveless silk undertunics, fastened the matching emerald green trousers, secured the indoor slippers, and tied the intricate sash that finished the Harmony Robe, my back and hip were aching from the strain of standing still for so long.
'There, you're ready,' she finally said, twitching the hem into place.
'Let me look.'
