House of Shadows(28)

In addition to the independent keiso, seventeen resident keiso were present. They were the ones who had the most reason to feel personally threatened by Karah’s early elevation—by her beauty and by the mere fact of her existence. They were the ones who would have to compete with her for attention. These women were bolder in clothing and jewelry and manner than the keiso of independent means, and yet even so accoutered, not one of them outshone Cloisonné’s newest acquisition. They knew it. Most of them resented the knowledge. They knelt in pairs or small groups and murmured to one another behind their hands. Those who were aging pensioners upon the House would hate the too-young Karah for being given an extra chance to succeed where they had already failed.

Rue, aloof from the other resident keiso, had won a coveted spot near the studio’s huge windows. From her patient put-upon air, she would rather have had the studio to herself and the mirrors uncovered.

Featherreed and Bluestar knelt nearest Rue, their heads tilted toward one another, murmuring together. But there was less of an edge to their whispers than to the rest; they were young keiso, kind-hearted and popular. Bluestar had no fewer than three potential keisonne currently negotiating with Mother for her favor, though Leilis suspected Bluestar would in the end accept none of them. The young keiso loved the son of a Laodd noble and intended to wait for the young man to come into property or a court appointment of his own. She, of any of the younger keiso, had least reason for jealousy and more inclination than any to support her newest sister. Or so Leilis hoped.

It would no doubt help that both Featherreed and Bluestar had been deisa with Lily and knew her intimately; they would be sympathetic to Karah’s need to get out of the deisa quarters as quickly as she could. Leilis thought—hoped—that it would take very little management to be sure both Bluestar and Featherreed befriended the girl.

All six of the deisa, clad in black robes traced with blue around the hems, knelt by the door. Their faces were turned down and their mouths stubbornly set, as they took their common attitude from Lily. Lily herself had the sort of fine-boned elegance and striking presence that was most desired among keiso. Of all the keiso and deisa and servants in Cloisonné House, Leilis thought, only the Mother of the House was blind to the failings of her natural daughter.

Lily’s temper was clearly in evidence at the moment, though subtly. She had beautiful sea-blue eyes, with fine arched brows and long dark lashes, but her eyes right now hid depths of anger. The other deisa took their cues from her, for to do otherwise was at best difficult and at worst dangerous. There was a stiffness to Karah’s back, turned now toward Lily, that showed the girl had learned in her three days in the deisa quarters to be aware always of the older deisa. In just those three days, Leilis fancied, the precious, delicate edge of Karah’s innocence had begun to be blunted. Even Narienneh must have seen it.

Thus, of course, this gathering.

Between Mother and Karah stood a low table of black wood with mother-of-pearl inlay. On this table stood a large bowl, surrounded by thirty-two small porcelain cups painted with flowers or reeds or dragonflies with opalescent wings. The bowl was filled with sweet berry liquor, so dark a red it was nearly black. Leilis had never tasted it.

The adoption ceremony was a simple one. Karah took a cup painted with blue columbines and golden butterflies and dipped it full of liquor. This she gave to Narienneh, offering it carefully in both hands.

Narienneh took the cup the same way, cradling it in her long thin fingers as though it were not only fragile but also infinitely valuable. She said to Karah, “My daughter, your name is Moonflower.” Then she sipped the liquor and gave the cup back to Karah—Moonflower, now—who sipped in her turn and once more offered the cup back to Narienneh, who drained it.

Thirty-one more times, the newest flower of Cloisonné House filled a small cup with berry liquor. Thirty-one times, she shared a cup of liquor with a keiso, beginning with Silvermist, who was the eldest of them all, and ending with Bluestar, who was the youngest. Each time, the keiso who shared the cup murmured a word of advice or a suggestion to their youngest sister, from “Smile, my dear, your life will be beautiful,” with gratifying warmth from Silvermist, to “You must improve your fretwork on the harp,” from Celandine, in a disdainful tone.

At the end, Moonflower came back to place the last cup by the table and kneel on the cushion before Narienneh. She said in her soft little voice, her eyes downcast, “Mother.”

A folded parcel of cloth had lain behind Narienneh. Now the elderly woman took this and formally offered it to her newest daughter.