Free Cordimancy by Daniel Hardman Page A

dropped away from the roof.
    Her fingers traced a seam in the muslin of her pillow while she waited for her heartbeat to slow. She felt like a stranger here. That would have to change.
    Her eyes wandered across the tidy room. Last night, it had been yellowed by lamps; this morning, it was brighter, with gentler and bluer shadows. Yet the sense of—what? wholeness, blunt comfort?—remained. Her parents’ chambers at home—former home—abounded with embroidery and silk and expertly carved woodwork. Somehow, she liked the afghan and rocker better.
    A man who lived in a space like this was the sort of man she could like.
    Was that wishful thinking?
    She padded barefoot across stone and knelt at the window to offer prayers. A dish in a corner of the sill held char from incense sticks; apparently she was not the only one who faced east each morning.
    As she straightened a moment later, a soft clap sounded beyond the door.
    Still in the gown she’d worn for sleep, she puffed some errant hair away from her forehead and cracked the door.
    “Is he awake?” her younger sister hissed.
    Malena found herself grinning. Of course Tupa wouldn’t have known that Toril was away on business. The audacity of the girl…
    “He was called to a meeting,” she said. “He won’t be back all day.” She swung the door wide.
    Tupa bounced in.
    “What’s he like?” she asked sotto voce , as if soliciting scandalous gossip.
    “He seems like a good person,” Malena said blandly. “But really, I’ve only had a few moments to talk to him.” Out of habit, she motioned her sister to a chair and reached for a brush. Tupa’s hair was always scraggly unless Malena attended to it.
    Her fingers smoothed and straightened, adjusting as her sister’s head swiveled to study the room in each direction.
    “He’s not messy,” Tupa observed.
    “No.”
    “But that’s just the servants,” Tupa said, trying to sound knowing.
    “Maybe.”
    After a long silence, Tupa cleared her throat. “I’m scared.”
    “Scared? Of what?”
    Tupa stared at the floor.
    “What do you have to be scared of?” Malena prodded, keeping her voice as gentle as she could manage. “The trip home?”
    Tupa shook her head. Malena waited.
    “I’m going to be the only one at home now,” Tupa finally said. “I won’t have anyone to talk to.”
    “We can still talk by Voice.”
    Tupa hesitated. “And it won’t be long before I’m going to Erim’s.”
    Malena stopped fussing with hair and put her hands on her sister’s shoulders. “Is that what’s got you worried? The fosterage?”
    Tupa nodded.
    “It is a bit of an adjustment to live in a home that’s different from where you grew up,” Malena acknowledged. “I remember being homesick for the first couple weeks. But it’s part of what got me ready to move here, I suppose. I’d be more timid if I hadn’t already learned some independence.”
    “I don’t know anybody in Erim’s household,” Tupa said, her voice acquiring a quaver at the end of the sentence.
    Malena sighed. “Do you trust Father to send you somewhere that you can be happy? Do you trust Mam?”
    Tupa’s face grew even more troubled.
    “All right,” Malena said, putting her palms on Tupa’s cheeks and resting her chin on the crown of her sister’s head. “Do you trust me?”
    In the looking glass beside the bed, Malena watched her sister’s lip quiver. She bent down and gave her sister a long, heartfelt hug. “It’ll be all right. You’ll see.”
    Tupa sniffled. “I’m going to be so lonely. Even before I leave, home will be empty without you. And once I leave, I don’t know if I can stand it. I won’t have anybody.”
    “Maybe I can visit you,” Malena suggested.
    As soon as the words left her mouth, she regretted them. How could she offer something like that, when she had no idea if it would be possible? Three months from now, these mountains would have snow, and travel would be hard. Three months from now, she might