Chapter Three
“All right, that’s enough for me,” I said to Taro, my voice low because we were still surrounded by well-wishers. “Let’s head back to the residence.”
“What? Why? We just got out.”
“We have what we came for. You wanted to get some jewelry, and we got some jewelry. Let’s go home.” They were still watching us. What did they expect us to do now? The show is over, people.
“Lee, we’ve been away for over a year. I don’t want to be shut up in the residence.”
“People are going to be watching us because of that spectacle.”
“So? That spectacle wasn’t my fault.”
“I didn’t say it was.” Though it was, sort of. If he hadn’t insisted on requisitioning harmony bobs, we wouldn’t have had to endure that ridiculous ritual. But then, I could have refused, so it was sort of my fault, too.
“And you had no problem being a spectacle on that damned island.”
I glared at him. That wasn’t fair. “I wasn’t a spectacle.”
“Oh, no? Leavy the Flame Dancer. You couldn’t be anything but.”
“My making a spectacle of myself put food on our table,” I hissed.
“Which was more than I could do, right?”
“Stop putting words in my mouth.” What was wrong with him?
“All I’m saying is that you’re letting other people’s interest control what you do. Why do you care whether other people stare at you?”
“How can you not care?” Who enjoyed being stared at by strangers, every move made and word spoken judged and possibly communicated to someone else? “Maybe you’re used to having strangers speculate about you, but I’m not, and I don’t plan to get used to it.”
“You’re overreacting. I just want to go shopping.”
“And I don’t. I’ve done enough shopping.”
“Fine.” He sketched out a little bow that somehow managed to appear sarcastic. “I need clothes, so I’ll be off. I hope you enjoy your afternoon.” He turned on his heel and strode off. Most of the crowd either followed him or dispersed.
Having an argument in front of an audience was humiliating. What had gotten Taro so upset? So what if I wanted to go home? Taro knew hundreds of people he could go shopping with, if that was what he wanted. Why did he have to turn it into an argument?
There were still a few people watching me, wondering what entertaining thing I would do next. Repressing the embarrassing urge to smile or wave, I turned away to head back to the residence. I felt like I could sense their eyes boring into the back of my head.
As I passed the jewelry stalls we had examined earlier on, I looked for signs of other such rituals being performed. There was nothing. I even watched a couple purchase a pair of harmony bobs and they were required to do nothing more than hand over the coin and pin the bobs on each other. So that blue-eyed merchant had done all that to Taro and me just for the hell of it. I felt even more of a fool. No wonder so many people had been watching. The display had no doubt appeared positively freakish.
I caught a carriage for the rest of the way back to the Triple S residence. I could have walked the distance easily enough, but the streets just felt too crowded, and I needed some space. That was one positive aspect of Flatwell; there was always space and it had almost always been quiet.
I hated being stared at. I really, really did.
I entered the residence with a sense of relief. Standing in the foyer were Source Claire Firth and her Shield, Dee Stone. They were ladies in their fifties who loved to drink and dance and have sex with a lot of people. They were a delight and a hoot and I was happy to see them. I’d managed to miss them since returning the day before. “Firth, Stone, how are you?”
“I am well,” Stone answered.
And Firth said, her words treading on Stone’s, “Is it true that you slept with Shintaro last night?”
I stared at her, shocked speechless by the question.
“Hush, Claire,” said Stone. She was blushing.
Firth wasn’t. “Answer the question, Dunleavy.”
I finally found my voice. “I will not.” How dare she interrogate me? She had no authority over me.
“Oh, so you’re ashamed of it, are you?”
“I’ve done nothing to be ashamed of.” But I did feel odd. Yes, it was suggested one shouldn’t sleep with one’s partner. This reaction, though, was unexpected, especially from one I considered a friend.
“Haven’t you?”
“It is simply none of your business.”
“What goes on in our house is our business.”
“Now’s not the time, Claire,” said Stone, grabbing Firth’s arm. “We’re going to be late for our watch.”
“We’ll be discussing this, Dunleavy,” said Claire. “All of us will. And we have every right to. Because it’s wrong.” And then she let herself be dragged out by her Shield.
It wasn’t wrong. It was merely foolish. And while, if I had thought about it, I would have expected some ribbing, outright disapproval was a shock.
Oh, what a day.
I went up to my room. My luggage, still packed, was on the floor in the center of the bedchamber. No time like the present to get that done. I pulled out the trousers and shirts I’d worn for most of my travels, the two gowns I’d worn again and again before the Empress in Erstwhile, and the sandals I’d purchased with money I had earned on Flatwell. My one skill, besides Shielding, was dancing the benches. That had been a skill of value to the troupe with whom we had traveled. But bench dancing couldn’t be done in ordinary, loose-fitting clothes, not on Flatwell. Oh, no. There had to be drama. There had to be flair.
The costume consisted of two pieces, a brown halter that left the midriff bare, and a scandalously short skirt. Copper beads had been sewn onto the brown material. Not by me—I couldn’t sew to save my life—but by the woman whose assistance was the only reason Taro and I had managed to survive at all.
The clothing wasn’t the entire costume. There had been cosmetics, too. Shadowing my face, bringing out the color of my eyes, coiling down my arms and legs in temporary tattoos. All of it applied, before every performance, by the same woman who had sewn the beads.
The first time I’d been in that costume, I’d felt exotic and beautiful. Then Taro had seen it. He’d thought it looked ridiculous.
He was right. I had made a spectacle of myself. But it had been necessary to get the coins we needed in order to eat.
I put the costume in my wardrobe, far in the back. I should get rid of it—I certainly wouldn’t be wearing it again—but I wasn’t ready to do that quite yet.
I craved a bath, but lacked the patience to wait for water to be heated and brought up. I poured some water into the wash basin and disrobed entirely. With the cloth, I scrubbed the grime of the market from my skin.
I was so happy to be home.
Once I was bathed and I had put on a fresh dress, I picked up the bundle of discarded clothes. At the moment before putting them in the laundry bag, I remembered the bob. I took it off and, after depositing the clothes in the bag, I put the bob in my jewelry box. I went to the door of my suite, preparing to go down to the kitchen for some coffee.
And I couldn’t make myself go through the door. I didn’t know what it was; I just felt restless and uncomfortable. I felt as though I was forgetting something important.
I felt better when I took a step back, and better again when I went another step back. I felt best of all when I went back to my bedchamber and stood over my jewelry box.
It was stupid. It was all the power of suggestion. That merchant had performed that ritual, and now I had spells and casting on my mind. It was making me act all ridiculous.
Still, I opened the jewelry box and picked up the harmony bob, holding it at eye level. It was a pretty little thing.
And I had to admit, I wanted to wear it. I would have had no problem wearing it if Taro weren’t wearing the same thing. Why did we have to get matching bobs? What was Taro thinking?
I was so adverse to the idea of putting the bob in the jewelry box that it shocked me. But I was not going to pin it on my dress for all the world to see.
Feeling like a complete idiot, I stripped down to my chemise and pinned the bob to that. I felt better. I dressed again, and when I went to the door of my suite again, I was able to pass through it with no difficulties.
It made absolutely no sense, but I wasn’t going to think about it. I would wear the bob and I wouldn’t think about it. And when I went to bed that night, the merchant’s influence would have dissipated and everything would be normal. I really, really wanted everything to be normal.