Chapter 20: The Midwinter Ball

I walked into the Midwinter Ball at the Imperial palace with Bertram on one side and Greta on the other.

Bertram was carrying a hatbox. Greta was carrying a roll.

The Duke of Rothgar had gone ahead two days before, and I had not seen him since the door closed.

"Dear Mina!" said the Empress.

She came across the marble in pale blue silk, with both hands out and lilac in the air around her.

"You should be in bed. We were all so frightened."

"Your Majesty is very kind."

"Come and sit. I have kept your place on my left."

The lady-in-waiting stood behind the Empress's chair.

She had come back to court. Her face was thin, and her grey dress was new, and she looked at the floor.

I sat. Six hundred people were watching, and the Emperor was across the table with a plate of pheasant.

He saw me and brightened.

"The egg girl!" he said. "Madam, how are the hens?"

"Laying, Your Majesty."

"Excellent."

I set the tin of tea on the cloth between us.

It was the palace tin, in blue silk, with the wax unbroken.

"A gift returned, Majesty," I said. "Your tea saved my life, in its way. I could not drink another cup without thanking you in front of everyone."

The Empress smiled.

"How sweet. Keep it, dear. It's for you."

"I couldn't."

"I insist."

"Then let me share it. In the north, the one who serves a gift drinks it first. It's the custom."

I had invented the custom on the road, and written it down so it would look old.

"I don't believe," said the Empress, "that is quite..."

"A very good custom," said the Emperor, putting down his fork. "My grandfather kept to it. Pour, girl."

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