Eona - Alison Goodman [92]
I blinked, bringing the separate parts of my face into a whole. The woman before me was pretty, but not beautiful like Moon Orchid. My eyes followed the downward sweep of white paint to the hollow of my throat. It had been left unpainted, a jewel of smooth, natural skin that hinted at what lay beneath the clinging sheath of pink and green silk and the tight binding of the embroidered sash.
“Although she is completely covered, the message is still very obvious,” Dela said wryly.
“That is our art,” Momo said.
I shook my head. “I cannot do this.” I stepped away from the mirror. “I am not feminine enough. I will walk like a boy and give us away.”
“Nonsense. You were skilled enough to fool everyone into believing you were a boy for years. I’m sure you can now manage a Peony.” Momo led me back to the mirror and stood me in front of it again. “Look at yourself. You are a beautiful Peony, a highly skilled artist whose company is reserved for the rich and powerful. Every other man will be busy unwrapping you with his eyes. They will not see anything beyond that.”
I pressed my lips together, tasting the waxy red ocher of the paint. I knew Momo was right: the soldiers would not see anything beyond the promise of my body. Not at first, anyway. Even Kygo’s gaze had changed when I had finally told him I was a girl. He had been furious, of course, but as he recast me in the mold of woman, I had felt my body became a possibility to him, and my flesh the sum of what I was. At the time, it had shamed and infuriated me.
I stared into the mirror and a small smile shifted across the reddened flower-bud mouth. Part of me wished Kygo were here to see me in the gown and paint. Would he think me beautiful? I glanced across at Moon Orchid. Not if she was in the room. Still, he had made me his Naiso, and kissed me even when I had been stinking of horse and sweat, and covered in mud. I was more than just a body to him.
A small doubt slid through my thoughts like a honed dagger. It was possible that my body had never had anything to do with it. Perhaps he did not want Eona—just “the thousand lightning strikes tipped with pleasure.” Was that why he had not sought my company on the ride to the city—since I dared not touch the pearl, I was of no use? I looked at Moon Orchid again. He could have any woman he wanted. Why would he choose me?
Perhaps he did not even see Eona when he looked at me. Perhaps all he could see was dragon power.
Mama Momo guided me away from the mirror. “If all goes smoothly, you won’t be in the company of the officers for long, anyway,” she said. “Tell me the plan again.”
We had been through it twice already while I was being painted, but she was right to insist. “One of Sethon’s half-brothers is hosting the party—High Lord Haio. He has requested only lower rank girls, so when he sees me among the others, he will complain.”
Momo nodded. “He is tighter than a fish’s bum and won’t want to pay for a Peony he did not order.”
“I then explain that there has been a mistake, and that Vida and I are a gift for the emperor from the Blossom Houses: a Peony for music and song, and a Safflower for the more base arts.” I paused. “What if Haio decides he wants a Peony after all?” I did not have a clear idea of what would happen at such a party, but I knew it would not be safe for either of us.
“He will not want to interfere with his brother’s pleasure— with good reason. Haio will have a steward escort you to Sethon.”
“Ryko, Yuso, and Dela will intercept us,” I continued. “We’ll get rid of the steward and make our way to Ido.”
“Do not miss that opportunity.” Momo gripped my arm to emphasize the warning.
“We know,” Vida said.
“We get into Ido’s cell. I heal him,