Page 14

I set the cakes into the steamer, close the lid. “What if the richest is King Meguh?”

Vanna tenses. The color in her cheeks drains away, and I immediately regret asking.

“Meguh is old,” she replies. “It wouldn’t be so bad. He’ll probably die within a few years, and then I’ll be rich and free.”

I hope King Meguh is having breakfast as we speak, and choking to death on a slagfruit seed.

I lower my voice. “Vanna, are you sure this is what you want? To be auctioned off like a…a prize sow?”

“I am not a sow.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

“It’s tradition for a girl to have a dowry—so why not a man?” Vanna interrupts, on the verge of snapping. “Why shouldn’t Adah pick the most generous one? The money will go to the temple, to the future of Puntalo Village—”

“I couldn’t care less about Puntalo Village,” I say over her. “I care about you. Vanna, the last selection ceremony was a hundred years ago. It’s obscene that you should have one.”

She bites down on her lower lip to stop its trembling, and bunches the fabric of her dress in her hand. “The selection is our chance for a better life.”

“Vanna…,” I say. I know my sister. She wears a mask of her own, except hers is that of the perfect young lady everyone expects her to be. Modest and meek, without a thought for herself. She’s trying so hard to be perfect, to please everyone, and yet, in doing so, she is forgetting herself. “Enough about me. Is this what you want?”

Vanna lets go of her skirt. “Princesses are still traded away for lands and alliances. Is that so different? I want to get out of Sundau, and this is the best way.” The light inside her grows cloudy, and her expression darkens. “Don’t bother trying to convince me otherwise. Adah and I have discussed it. I will be a great lady. Maybe even a queen. And when I am, I’ll be able to do anything I wish.”

She sounds so sure that her future will be better than her past. I wish I had the same certainty, but kings do not make queens of peasant girls.

“Marriage isn’t the only way to become a great lady,” I say. “Look at you. You are radiant, you are powerful. Do you not understand how much people love you and want to please you? If only you’d learn to wield that light….”

My words trail off as Vanna covers her heart with her hands. Light still spills through the seams between her fingers. “I know what you’re thinking. If you were in my place, you’d have mastered it. You’d never let anyone determine your fate.” She looks up at me, and her voice falls soft. “But I’m not as brave as you are.”

For the first time I see that she’s frightened. My shoulders drop.

I’m not a perfect sister. I’ve been envious of Vanna, even resented her at times. Yet great beauty is not always a gift; it can be as much a curse as great ugliness. Better than anyone, I understand the burden she bears.

“At least tell Adah you need more time,” I say gently. “He won’t deny you. Make the suitors prove themselves. Ask for things no one can procure: ten thousand mosquito hearts on silver platters, a bridge of gold connecting our home to the sun, a—”

“I don’t want to postpone the selection. The longer I stay here, the longer I stay a child. I’m not a child anymore.”

“Vanna…”

She lifts her chin. “I’m going to become a queen, and you’re going to come live with me in my palace. We’ll bicker over trivial things and grow old together.” She clasps my hand, and her heart beams. “You’ve always protected me, Channi. Let me do something for you. We’ll sail across the world and find a way to break the curse on your face. I swear it.”

I thought you didn’t believe it was a curse, I almost say. There’s a twinge in my chest I can’t ignore. Vanna can look past my face better than anyone, but never once has she asked me what I want.

I force a smile. “Until then I guess we’re stuck with my snake eyes.”

Vanna smiles back, not hearing the bitterness creeping into my voice. “They’ll be useful in court. You can use them to mesmerize my enemies.”

I can’t look her in the eye. “If I had that power, I’d just make everyone forget I’m here.”

The light in Vanna’s heart dies a little. She opens her mouth to say something cheering, but Adah calls for her from outside: “Vanna! What’s taking you so long? Lintang wants to braid your hair.”

My sister turns to me, an unspoken apology creasing her brow. “Save some cakes for me, and then get changed. Please? We’re going soon.”

As she leaves, I wipe my hands dry, ignoring how they tremble.

* * *

When the cakes are ready, I set a dozen aside for Vanna, two for me, and three on a clay plate. I place it in front of Mama’s shrine, which I keep by my cot across the kitchen.