The Theft of Sunlight by Intisar Khanani (story reading .TXT) 📕

and after a quick conversation regarding colors and beads, the passing over of various swatches of fabric, and the promise given of new slippers to be delivered in the next two days, he departs.

“That wasn’t too bad,” Melly says, watching me carefully.

I shrug, well aware it won’t be so easy. “Depends on what he delivers.”

The following morning I walk into the dining room to find Filadon and Melly deep in discussion.

“Rae,” Melly says, catching sight of me, but there’s no warmth in her voice. She gives herself a slight shake and says, somewhat more like her usual self, “Come join us.”

“Is something wrong?” I ask, crossing to her.

“Not at all,” Filadon says, looking like a cat that has got into the milk. “Things have come right, and with your help, I think we may have an answer to a rather difficult question Kestrin has put me.”

“Do let her sit down, Filadon,” Melly says. “She hasn’t yet had a bite to eat.”

“The prince?” I demand, wondering what I could possibly have to do with him.

“Yes, yes, Zayyid Kestrin. Do sit down or Ramella will have my head.”

“Among other things,” Melly mutters in my ear as I bend to give her a quick hug. I swallow a laugh and slip into the seat beside her. “Don’t let him bully you. He’s got one of his harebrained ideas.”

“Those are typically such fun,” I say, starting to grin.

“Sometimes,” she agrees. “Harebrained ideas at court are a bit different.”

“Now, Melly,” Filadon says, taking her hand with a mischievous smile. “Don’t prejudice our dear cousin.”

She says with mock severity, “Rae is here to visit and keep me company. Not anything else.” She eyes Filadon darkly. “And she’s my cousin, not yours.”

“Details,” he replies, waving a hand. “Let’s put the question to her, why don’t we?”

“Please do,” I say. “Before I die of curiosity.”

Filadon sobers as he turns to me. “I assume you heard all the news about the impostor and the true princess. You haven’t asked a word.”

“It wasn’t my concern,” I say. “I only heard that the true princess has been found, and the impostor executed. Rather terribly.”

“She was hanged,” Melly says. “Though I doubt that got out as far as the tale of what she would have done to the true princess.”

“The princess prevailed upon Kestrin and the king to change the sentence,” Filadon explains.

I’m glad to hear that, at least. The initial sentence involving barrels and nails still makes my skin crawl. “But what does any of that have to do with me?”

Filadon studies me in silence.

“Go on and tell her,” Melly says.

He sighs. “To put it plainly, the new princess has asked Kestrin’s aid in finding someone trustworthy to help her. Someone who will not divulge her secrets or betray her.”

“Help?” I ask mildly.

“Not help,” Filadon says quickly. “She’s maids and servants aplenty. This is different.”

“He means a royal attendant,” Melly explains.

Me? A royal attendant? I haven’t even seen the court yet, let alone developed any concept of dress or propriety or anything, really. How could I possibly attend the princess? A small chuckle breaks from my lips. “That’s absurd.”

“Rae, let me explain,” Filadon says, sitting forward.

“Please do,” I say. “And while you’re at it, tell me why the princess would want a clubfooted country girl with no clue about the court, or fixing her hair, or doing whatever else it is attendants do.”

“She has a maid for her hair, and three other attendants who can see to the rest,” Filadon replies. “You don’t have to know the court; in fact, she needs someone who doesn’t have previous alliances. You just have to do whatever it is you think she needs.”

“Such as?”

He glances to Melly, who answers. “Make sure she knows about our customs so she doesn’t offend anyone by mistake. Listen for gossip and intrigues and tell her what she needs to know. Keep her confidences, I suppose. And do what she asks you to do without betraying her trust.”

“Exactly,” Filadon says. “You’d be part of Alyrra’s entourage, if you will, staying by her side and giving good counsel.”

Good counsel? “I can tell her about horses,” I say dryly. “Not much else.”

Filadon shakes his head. “You might be surprised.”

“I suppose that’s possible.” Though vanishingly unlikely.

Filadon nods as if that has decided it. “Good, then. We ought to be able to meet Kestrin after breakfast.”

“What?” I blink at him and then look down at my still-empty plate.

“She hasn’t agreed to it yet,” Melly interrupts sharply.

“Let her think about it,” Filadon says, stealing her argument. “I’m sure Kestrin will want to discuss it with her, and they can both see what they think. After all, Kestrin can’t decide whether or not to recommend her if he hasn’t met her.”

“I don’t know,” Melly says, reaching over to spoon spiced liver onto my plate. “The royal attendants are all from the nobility themselves, Rae. Younger daughters of families with smaller holdings, women who won’t inherit much and so must make a good match. It’s a bit of a stretch for Filadon to propose you because you’ve never lived here and aren’t his direct relation.”

As Melly’s cousin, my standing will be negligible. Her lack of lineage and title might be overlooked through her marriage, but I’m just a poor relation brought in from the country. The other attendants will resent that and the court will hardly respect me for it. I have only to look at my four days of traveling, feeling more like an extra bundle stashed in the carriage than a person, to know that. Just as telling, Filadon doesn’t argue this particular point. But . . . attending the princess also means I’ll be able to talk to her—she must have already heard about the snatchers, living on the outside as she has. She might listen.

“I understand,” I say slowly. Melly purses her lips, still worried, so I add, “Anyway, can you imagine what Bean would say if she found out I refused to meet the prince on my third day in town? She’d never forgive