I glared at her. “Floundering, am I?”
“Thin.” She set a tray of food next to the bed. “There are clothes in the corner, clean bandages, and a physician’s basic care bag. Change. I’ll set up your food.”
I rolled out of bed. Maud turned her back to me and busied herself with the food. I peeled off my dress and pulled on a loose tunic. She’d filled the tub, but I’d have to bathe after. Least I was dry.
“Do any foods make you sick?” Maud stared idly at the opposite wall, kneeling before the tray, and poured a cup of dark chicory. She added a large dollop of honey. “I’m assuming you won’t be sleeping anytime soon.”
“No foods make me sick, and I won’t be sleeping unless I’m dead.” I fell back onto the bed in time to catch her wrinkling her nose. So she had a sense of humor after all. “You know anything about the last auditions?”
She pulled a lid from a bowl. Mutton drowned in thick red paste spotted with peas, green chilies, and garlic slivers gave off curls of peppery steam, and I fished out a piece of meat. The mice devoured it before it hit the cage bottom.
“Only that they happened,” she said dryly. She tossed the mice a pinch of bread. “Dimas was here for Amethyst’s year, and he said we should stay away at night.”
“Probably best.” I glanced at the mice—still alive. “If you wanted to slip something into an auditioner’s food, how would you do it?”
“No.” She pushed the tray toward me. “We keep the food covered while we walk. With all the construction, there’s too much dust in the air. You couldn’t do it. Not to my food.”
I sighed. “It never leaves your sight? Not for a wick?”
“Vin doesn’t let strangers in his kitchen, and none of us are going to poison you. Each servant cooks each meal, and all of us are in charge of breakfast.” Maud shuffled to my discarded clothes and gathered up the dress. She froze. “The lids sit out overnight. I’ll start washing mine.”
And no one would guard drying tray lids. I ran a finger down the inside of the lid and came away with nothing but water. I tasted it.
Warm water.
I dunked the bread into the egg and took a bite. Lady bless, Maud could cook, and she was clever knowing that the lids sitting out could mean trouble. “Why’d you pick me? What did they tell you about us?”
Servants had the best gossip, and if Maud wrinkled her nose when laughing, I bet she’d a similar tell when lying.
“I didn’t, and I wouldn’t have.” She folded my shirt over her arm and leaned against the full tub. “We drew lots, and I selected twenty-three. I am pleased you showed up. One horse in the race is better than none, and I’d have been ruined if they’d stopped at twenty-two.”
I snorted into my bowl.
“Why would I pick the scrawniest auditioner?” She shrugged. “I’m not going to lie to or for you.”
I’d have picked me, but I liked me.
“We’ve more rules than you,” Maud said after a long moment. “Typical ones—no relationships, no stealing—and specific ones. Nothing important, as far as you’re concerned.”
“And if your auditioner wins, you’re five pearls richer and sporting a fancy collar.” I tucked into the meal—mice weren’t dead and I was starving—and brandished my spoon at her. “You supposed to stay away so you don’t get hurt? I’m not going to hurt you.”
“No, it would get you disqualified.” Maud grinned, lips taut over gritted teeth. “Auditioners in the past have not always accepted the appropriate moral code, and the Left Hand holds a romantic spot within the court.”
I winced. No wonder the rules about hurting those outside the audition were so strict. A physical hit wasn’t the worst way to hurt someone, and we’d command over servants. “I won’t touch you.”
“Good.”
“What do you mean romantic?”
“Desired. Adored.” Maud gestured to the napkin folded next to the tray. “They are Our Queen’s chosen, and the only ones who have her ear. The court members think that if the Left Hand likes them, they are safe. It’s fake—flirtation, adoration. The last Opal loved it, but it means that some auditioners come here looking for a taste of that. Dimas told us to limit our time with you. He says people who kill for money or standing are the worst sort.”
He wasn’t wrong. Lord Horatio del Seve had made a fortune selling off Nacean goods to Shan de Pau and his questionably legal traders. They would sooner kill a person and strip the corpse than simply pick a few pockets. Loyalty to riches far beyond necessity and no sense of proper responsibility had gotten us into war in the first place. They served themselves and no one else.
But the Left Hand dispensed justice.
“Smart.” I wiped my mouth. Eating in a mask was about as easy as breathing in one. “Attempted murder I can handle. Don’t think I can handle you romancing me.”
“You’re not my type. You’re very short.” Maud stared down her nose at me, blinking slowly. “Plus, it’s completely against the rules. I can’t get promoted if I’m fired.”
“You’re shorter than me, you know.”
“Doesn’t change your height, does it?” She pushed herself off the tub. “Leave your dirty clothes by the door, and I’ll pick them up in the morning. The water’s clean. This shirt fits you best, so I’ll wash it tonight. The others were the only ones I could find that looked like they’d fit—I guessed your measurements. Do you need anything else?”
“No.” I glanced at the folded clothes in the corner, a chill crawling up my throat. She’d brought me clothes—a long dress and a tailored shirt with a floppy collar, thick leggings, fitted pants, and even a pair of wool socks. No questions, and she’d done as I asked. “Not a word about me to anyone. They know what I look like, I lose my shot at surprise.”
And that was when folks usually started asking a bunch of questions I didn’t want to answer.
“The tailor who sells secondhand clothes had to take in some of them, but I had him leave the dresses. He always makes them too short. I can tailor anything that doesn’t fit well enough.” Maud smiled, really smiled, showing her teeth and dimpling her round cheeks. “Your measurements aren’t anyone else’s business, and they won’t find out anything from me.”
I sucked in a breath, any words of thanks I might’ve had buried under years of explanations and tears, and all that came out was “Thank you.”
“Of course, Auditioner.” Maud nodded and left me speechless.
I dove for the pile of clothes. They weren’t made for me, but they were clean and dry and the nicest, newest things I’d owned in ages. I laid aside a long flowing tunic—more dress than shirt—and dug through the pants and leggings. The black pair I found was thicker than I was used to wearing but would still fit under my boots. I’d be prepared for the chilly nights at least.
Maybe Maud was more than all right.
Twelve