Under the Willow Root

Chapter 25

At long last, Ismeni beckons to me and I follow her out of the room, trying not to limp too obviously. We move away from the party, turning down one hall after another. There's something a little off about the way Ismeni moves. Normally she sort of sweeps around like a ship under full sail, but now... In someone less elegant, I would call it sneaking.

As we scamper through a garden and over a series of stepping stones at the base of the waterfall, my doubts as to whether or not we're sneaking disappear. Clearly something is going on, but what?

Once we're in the other wing of the palace, Ismeni stops being sneaky. She grabs my hand and pulls me on, practically skipping in her excitement. Finally, we turn down a corridor that looks like it hasn't been used in a while. There's nothing obvious like cobwebs, but there's a kind of stale smell in the air and the way the decorative furniture is arranged somehow gives the impression that no one has actually been using any of it.

After another couple of turns, Ismeni pulls me through a door and into a room lit by a single candle. A handsome man immediately pulls Ismeni into his arms. He kisses her deeply and I realize this is what had Ismeni in a tizzy all evening. I only ever went on one--totally awful--date in my old life, so I didn't recognise the signs.

But why am I here? I guess she can't just leave me to hang out at the party without her, but I really wish she had because he's taking off her clothes. I stare fixedly at the air over their heads and try to think of something else. Is this really happening? Are they seriously going to bone with me standing right here in front of them? There's an eye twitch in my future, I just know it.

The man murmurs something to Ismeni and she laughs, throwing herself naked onto the bed with joyful abandon. There's nothing on display that I haven't seen before in the course of my duties, but for obvious reasons this is a whole new world of gross. Ismeni props herself up on an elbow and waves me away carelessly.

"Blue, wait for me in the antechamber," she says. "I'll call when I need you."

In the darkness of the antechamber, I silently gag and make faces and seriously consider trying to pop my eyeballs out of their sockets with my thumbs...until the noises coming from the other room make me realize that I'd be better off starting with my ears. Dear God.

After what seems like an eternity, Ismeni calls me back to help her clean up and dress. I have a hard time keeping my mask on. This in itself is not unusual, but most often it's because I'm angry or sad or in pain. Right now, though, it's because I'm trying so hard not to laugh. I can't believe what just happened. I imagine the look on Ismeni's face if she only knew the truth about me and have to turn away for a moment to compose my features.

Ismeni's boyfriend left almost immediately after...the act. As ridiculous as it all is, I can't help but feel a little indignant on Ismeni's behalf. I don't know a lot--anything, really--about how this stuff is supposed to happen, but I feel like the goodbye should involve more snuggling and kisses or something. Making a break for it like that just seems rude.

Then again, I think as we sneak back to the party, secret affairs probably have to have different rules if they're to remain secret. I wonder who her secret boyfriend is and then immediately worry about what will happen if Orean finds out. If he would beat her or banish her just for not having a baby, what would he do to her for cheating? Of course I think it's only fair since he and everyone else believes he's been sleeping with Sadra for months, but somehow I doubt Orean would see it that way.

We make it back to the party room just in time for Ismeni to mingle a little and make it seem like she'd never left. Less than fifteen minutes after our return, an announcement is made and everyone drifts into an enormous hall peppered with more tables and couches. Musicians play, prominently displayed in the center of the room. Girls--and men, too--dance to the complicated rhythms and melodies, bending and swaying and twirling like bits of confetti. It's too bad Sadra isn't among them. She sometimes dances at the palace, but we agreed that we shoudn't both be there in case Ismeni somehow sees that we know each other.

I follow the herd of thralls into the dining room and we line up along the wall as we did before. When do we get to eat? I can't even gaze longingly at the delicious platters without my mask cracking. I sniff surreptitiously instead. My mouth waters.

I notice that no one has sat down yet and wonder why. They seem to be waiting for something. The man who announced dinner pounds the ground with a large and kind of silly-looking staff and informs the guests that they will now be honored by the Prince Miocostin's presence. I let my eyes drift aimlessly to the grand doorway across the room so I can see him.

My first realization is that the Prince is the same man who sometimes accompanies the one with the fox in the morning. It's only after I see him lock eyes with Ismeni that I recognize him as the guy who made sweet, noisy love to my mistress not thirty minutes before. My eyes move slowly to Ismeni, who looks smug, confused, tender, and elated all at once. Well, damn, I think. Way to go. But for all our sakes...please don't screw this up.