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We’d reached the peach trees when I felt a yank at the end of my sash. I called upon my magic, thinking to make the fruits fly off the branches and pelt whoever was behind me. Then I saw who had come.

The peaches tumbled to the ground.

It was Hasho. He was out of breath, but that didn’t prevent him from lecturing me: “Don’t you cast your magic on me, little sister. I won’t have it.”

“I’m not going back,” I said, yanking my sash free.

“Then explain yourself.”

What were you thinking? Kiki shrieked. Honestly, Shiori, I thought you’d stopped being so stupid since breaking that bowl on your head. But clearly I was wrong.

“Enough,” said Takkan, standing between my brother, Kiki, and me. “That’s enough.”

“Did Bandur possess you?” Hasho demanded. “Because that’s the only reason I can think of to explain what you’ve done.”

Sweat made the white paint on my face drip down my forehead and cheeks, stinging my eyes and coating my lips with a bitter veneer. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. “That’s not far from the truth.”

Startled, Hasho’s hands fell to his sides. He let out a sigh that turned into a rueful laugh. “I should’ve let one of the others catch you. Canceling the ceremony but running off with your betrothed—how am I going to explain that to the court? That’s a new one, even for you.”

I despised both Kiki and Hasho for chuckling.

“Go and find someplace to hide,” Hasho said, waving Takkan and me away. “I’ll straighten things out with Father.”

And you straighten things out with Takkan, Kiki added before she left with my brother.

I turned to Takkan, who had gone so quiet it made me nervous.

“I’m guessing another tapestry won’t be enough to serve as an apology,” I mumbled, not sure what else to say.

“Your time is better spent away from a needle and thread,” he replied. He folded my jacket over his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Am I all right?” I eyed him in disbelief. “Are you all right? I’ve just mortally humiliated you in front of the entire court. Again. Shouldn’t you be furious with me?”

“No,” said Takkan simply. “You didn’t run out on me. You ran out with me. It’s quite different.”

“Don’t you want to know what happened?”

He held my chin up so he could dab off the paint running down my face. It tickled. “You’ve told me enough,” he said. “Let everyone else puzzle over it. It’s a beautiful day and we ought to enjoy it. Like he is—”

Takkan waved awkwardly at someone behind me. “Good morning, Mr. Ji.”

Mr. Ji, as it turned out, was a gardener who’d been picking up fallen fruit in the orchard and was now staring at us, slack-jawed. At Takkan’s greeting, he swiftly tumbled into a speechless bow.

I was horrified. I grabbed Takkan by the arm and dragged him across a wooden bridge that led deeper into the gardens. The kitebirds were chirping, and the cicadas were as loud as they were shrill, but at least we were far from prying eyes.

Takkan was laughing.

“It isn’t funny,” I said, sincerely distressed. “Gossip in Gindara spreads faster than demonfire. Everyone in the whole city probably knows what I’ve done. And your family!” I wanted to bury my face in my hands. “Your family is going to despise me.”

“Iro is quite a ways from Gindara,” Takkan reminded me. “They won’t hear for a few days at least. Besides, there’s nothing you could do that would make Megari despise you.”

“Your mother will be a different story.”

“My mother will be appeased if ever there are children. And my father will be appeased when she is appeased.”

His eyes twinkled, and I couldn’t tell whether he was speaking in earnest or in jest. “Children?” I repeated as my stomach somersaulted. “I did say the betrothal was over.”

“Well, if that’s the case, maybe you should make another apology tapestry.”