Glyssa asked.
“They destroyed her beautiful puzzle box!” Tiana said.
“My diamond bracelet. I wore it to the opening of Darjeeling’s HouseHeart. My fault, I didn’t take it back to the bank.”
“It is not your fault that you have to hide valuables,” Tiana said.
“No, it’s not your fault. Tell me you ’ported the fligger to the guardhouse,” Glyssa said.
“I was going to. He broke my hold.” Camellia lifted her face, accepted the softleaf Glyssa held out to her. “I’ll have to practice more. I’ve already called my teacher for a lesson.”
“Did you file a complaint?” Glyssa pressed.
“Yes. For entering my house without permission and theft of the bracelet. Against both of them.”
“Good girl.”
With one last hug, Tiana and Glyssa stepped away. Tiana’s gaze went to the bedroom wall. “I see your uncle found the ‘secret’ safe we put in.” She shook her head. “You told me he would, but . . .”
Camellia shrugged a shoulder, blew her nose into Glyssa’s softleaf, and dropped the linen square into the cleanser. Going to a dresser drawer, she pulled out two softleaves with little teapots embroidered in the corners, handed one to Glyssa, and put the other on top of her dresser. “I haven’t dressed. I’m running a little late.” She eyed her friends. Costumes for the party fell into several categories. There was the ragged, “salvage” look that Glyssa wore, no trous under a tunic—this was a tattered-hemmed skirt scandalously above her naked ankles and feet. It was shades of green and appeared like seaweed to Camellia. Mica hopped from the bedsponge to play with a trailing end.
“Hmm,” Camellia said, staring.
Glyssa turned around, modeling the complete costume. The sleeves were barely substantial enough to be pointed pockets. Most tunics had rectangular pockets built into the sleeves.
“I like it,” Camellia said.
“Homage to the sunken ship,” Glyssa said.
“Um-hmm,” Camellia said.
“I think it’s a little much,” Tiana said.
“That’s because you’re turning into a staid priestess,” Glyssa retorted.
Tiana herself wore formal wear, a robe of deep blue with a twinkling spell of white, blue, yellow, and red “stars.” Celtan night. She, too, twirled for Camellia. The robe was cut full and circular so it belled wide and beautiful.
“Lovely,” Camellia said.
“All right. You’ve seen ours, and you’ve been secretive about yours. What are you wearing?”
“I considered going as an ocean diver.”
“Oooh,” both her friends said.
“But decided against.”
As Camellia turned to the closet, her smile died and her insides clenched again. What if her uncle or father had found the gown? What if they’d destroyed it? They knew exquisite-quality fabric and embroidery when they saw it. Not that they could have sold it . . . she didn’t think. Maybe . . .
Glyssa saw her face. “I’ll look for you.”
“We’ll take care of it if something happened to your outfit,” Tiana added. “You won’t have to see it, and we’ll make sure it’s mended.”
“You . . . you can’t. It’s heavy silk. Embroidered by D’Thyme.”
“That means it’s artwork,” Glyssa said matter-of-factly, opening the closet door as Tiana put her arm around Camellia’s shoulders and angled her gently away.
“Doesn’t appear like any of your clothes have been touched,” Glyssa said. She sniffed, then said, “Mica, come here and tell me if you smell the—”
Mean men. Mica trotted over to the dark opening of the closet. She lifted her nose. Only a trace smell. Like someone looked but didn’t touch.
“Excellent,” Glyssa said. “And what am I looking for?”
“A celadon green silk robe—”
“With exquisite embroidery,” Tiana added.
“It’s shot with silver,” Camellia added.
“Ah, here it is,” Glyssa said.
Tiana kept her grip on Camellia so she couldn’t see.
There was an intake of breath from Glyssa. Camellia flinched.
“So
“They destroyed her beautiful puzzle box!” Tiana said.
“My diamond bracelet. I wore it to the opening of Darjeeling’s HouseHeart. My fault, I didn’t take it back to the bank.”
“It is not your fault that you have to hide valuables,” Tiana said.
“No, it’s not your fault. Tell me you ’ported the fligger to the guardhouse,” Glyssa said.
“I was going to. He broke my hold.” Camellia lifted her face, accepted the softleaf Glyssa held out to her. “I’ll have to practice more. I’ve already called my teacher for a lesson.”
“Did you file a complaint?” Glyssa pressed.
“Yes. For entering my house without permission and theft of the bracelet. Against both of them.”
“Good girl.”
With one last hug, Tiana and Glyssa stepped away. Tiana’s gaze went to the bedroom wall. “I see your uncle found the ‘secret’ safe we put in.” She shook her head. “You told me he would, but . . .”
Camellia shrugged a shoulder, blew her nose into Glyssa’s softleaf, and dropped the linen square into the cleanser. Going to a dresser drawer, she pulled out two softleaves with little teapots embroidered in the corners, handed one to Glyssa, and put the other on top of her dresser. “I haven’t dressed. I’m running a little late.” She eyed her friends. Costumes for the party fell into several categories. There was the ragged, “salvage” look that Glyssa wore, no trous under a tunic—this was a tattered-hemmed skirt scandalously above her naked ankles and feet. It was shades of green and appeared like seaweed to Camellia. Mica hopped from the bedsponge to play with a trailing end.
“Hmm,” Camellia said, staring.
Glyssa turned around, modeling the complete costume. The sleeves were barely substantial enough to be pointed pockets. Most tunics had rectangular pockets built into the sleeves.
“I like it,” Camellia said.
“Homage to the sunken ship,” Glyssa said.
“Um-hmm,” Camellia said.
“I think it’s a little much,” Tiana said.
“That’s because you’re turning into a staid priestess,” Glyssa retorted.
Tiana herself wore formal wear, a robe of deep blue with a twinkling spell of white, blue, yellow, and red “stars.” Celtan night. She, too, twirled for Camellia. The robe was cut full and circular so it belled wide and beautiful.
“Lovely,” Camellia said.
“All right. You’ve seen ours, and you’ve been secretive about yours. What are you wearing?”
“I considered going as an ocean diver.”
“Oooh,” both her friends said.
“But decided against.”
As Camellia turned to the closet, her smile died and her insides clenched again. What if her uncle or father had found the gown? What if they’d destroyed it? They knew exquisite-quality fabric and embroidery when they saw it. Not that they could have sold it . . . she didn’t think. Maybe . . .
Glyssa saw her face. “I’ll look for you.”
“We’ll take care of it if something happened to your outfit,” Tiana added. “You won’t have to see it, and we’ll make sure it’s mended.”
“You . . . you can’t. It’s heavy silk. Embroidered by D’Thyme.”
“That means it’s artwork,” Glyssa said matter-of-factly, opening the closet door as Tiana put her arm around Camellia’s shoulders and angled her gently away.
“Doesn’t appear like any of your clothes have been touched,” Glyssa said. She sniffed, then said, “Mica, come here and tell me if you smell the—”
Mean men. Mica trotted over to the dark opening of the closet. She lifted her nose. Only a trace smell. Like someone looked but didn’t touch.
“Excellent,” Glyssa said. “And what am I looking for?”
“A celadon green silk robe—”
“With exquisite embroidery,” Tiana added.
“It’s shot with silver,” Camellia added.
“Ah, here it is,” Glyssa said.
Tiana kept her grip on Camellia so she couldn’t see.
There was an intake of breath from Glyssa. Camellia flinched.
“So
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