Page 59 of Thorn Season
“Nonsense! Be a doll and fetch a table.”
Perla stammered before dashing off like an anxious little bird.
“Now you’re being mean,” I said, fixing a look on Carmen.
But the princess’s eyes had lowered, trained on a spot just behind my waist.
I frowned, about to turn, when she caught my eyes and smiled. “I’mnot the one taking garden strolls with Perla’s intended,” she said. I stiffened, and her face lit with devious amusement. “Oh, I know everything that goes on in this palace.”
I swore I heard an edge to her voice. And as she left me at Perla’s table, she seemed oddly glad to be rid of me.
“I didn’t bring gold.” Perla tugged a loose thread on her bodice and nervously balled it between two fingers. Her pearl rings gleamed with the movement.
Perhaps Carmen had unintentionally done me a favor. When else would I get Perla alone?
“I didn’t, either.” I unfastened my earrings and placed them between us. “These should do.”
Perla had the good sense to hesitate. I’d paired my earrings with matching bracelets tonight, the amethyst still glinting at my wrists. But Perla only had her rings. In handing them over, she would be stripping herself bare of jewelry. The ultimate submission.
After a moment, she slid the pearls off her fingers, her pink mouth downturned.
I played half-heartedly at first, my mind on Carmen. But soon, Perla was winning against my best efforts.
“You’re very good,” I said.
Color flowered across her cheeks. “My mother taught me.”
As she shuffled for the next hand, I slipped a hairsbreadth of my specter around the ace. The tendril rippled on the card like a tag, avoiding her quick fingers.
You must learn the art of control, Father had said. And the nexttime I’d chosen a face down card on his desk, I’d curled my specter around it. Father had noticed immediately, feeling the thick ripple of my power.
So the next day, I pilfered one of Amarie’s sewing needles, and, holding the majority of power inside me with gritted teeth, I tried to feed my specter through the needle’s eye.
It was a tedious affair. I’d always Wielded with the boisterousness of youth, and forcing my specter into a thread produced a dull ache behind my eyes. But again and again, I thinned the power out. And soon, I knew how to cling to a card’s edges—to spread my specter finely in the places Father wouldn’t touch. Once he left his desk, I would slide the card from the deck to see its face, satisfying my curiosity.
And so I’d taught myself the art of control. Though, not how Father had intended.
“How are you finding Henthorn?” I asked, breaking Perla’s concentration.
“It’s...busy,” she ventured.
“Any place must seem stifling compared to Avanford.”
She sat up straighter. “You’ve been?”
I nodded, remembering the chalky cliffs and the frothing sea. “My father taught me to swim at Claren Cove.”
“I go there every summer.” Her expression brightened. “It’s the best place in Daradon to find shrimp.”
“Honestly, I’ve never been fond of shrimp.”
“Seasoned with garlic and parsley, you might change your mind.”
“You should ask the palace chefs to re-create the recipe,” I said, leading the conversation where I wanted it to go. “Since you won’t be returning to Avanford for a while.”
Perla suddenly deflated, looking a little betrayed at the turn in topic. “Only five more weeks of Rose Season,” she mumbled.
“Oh? You’re not staying longer?”
