Chapter Eight:

Adege bounced down the hallway, grinning madly. Her best friend, K’renala, was no less enthusiastic.

“That was so cool!” K’renala squeaked. “Everyone was there! We’re famous now!”

Adege bobbed her head up and down as fast as she could. “And we even got to wear tutus, like my sister and all the famous ballerinas!” She spun around twice in a circle, watching the material around her waist flair out a bit more. She had been in ballet for three years now, but this was the first time she and K’renala had been in a recital with the older kids. They’d had their own dance routine, which was nice and all, but what had really been great was that they’d been allowed to dance one set with K'cintzena and the other older girls. True, Tzena’s part had been longer and harder, but Adege still thought it was cool to finally be able to dance with her big sister. The fact that their flower costumes had tutus was icing on the cake.

K’renala joined her in the spinning, and soon enough the two were holding hands and laughing as they twirled in big circles together. Eventually, they got too dizzy and rammed into one of the walls, which made them giggle even harder. K’renala collapsed onto the floor, so Adege joined her.

“Sheesh,” K’renala muttered, after they’d calmed down a little. “How come big sisters take so long to get changed?”

Adege shrugged. “I don’t even get why they want to change! Their costumes were pretty, too. Not pink, like ours, but pretty. I know Cini said she liked hers, at least for the big piece at the end.”

K’renala nodded. “Pisza, too.” She paused. “Maybe they’re just dumb.”

“Probably.”

A minute later, the changing room door slammed open and a half-a-ten teenaged girls exploded out of it. K'cintzena was one of them. “Come on, Adege!” she called, poking her little sister in the side on her way past. “Mom’ll be waiting for us!”

“Duh! You’re the one who’s slow! Me and Rena have been ready for forever.” Adege turned and waved at K’renala. “See you Monday!”

“Bye!”

K'cintzena looked down at her sister and sighed. Gesturing at the frilly pink tutu, she said, “Adege, we’re going out to eat now. How are you going to fit in a chair with that on?”

Adege put on her stubborn face. “It’s pretty and I’m wearing it.”

Tzena didn’t bother arguing. “Fine, whatever. Let’s just go. I’m hungry.”

“Okay! Hey, Cini, we did really good tonight, right?”

Tzena smiled. “Yeah, we did.” N’stadege continued to chatter about the performance as they re-entered the auditorium. K'cintzena ignored her and looked around for their mom instead. Seeing a frantic wave from about ten rows back, she pointed her little sister in the proper direction.

Adege went flying across the floor, carrying her ramblings over to her mother. Tzena picked up her pace, too, for a minute. Then she noticed the man standing next to her mother and froze stiff. By all the gods, what is he doing here? Was he here the whole time? Oh, gods, what if he noticed that misstep in the third scene, or the part where I got off beat at the beginning! Does he even like ballet? I never checked – how could I be so stupid!

“Master Zefarinlos!” she managed to say after a few seconds.

The artist smiled at her. “Hello there, K'cintzena.”

Tzena thought he looked... smug. Amused at her. This is not a good sign, she realized. Okay, settle down. Be adult. She glanced at her mother. Mom didn’t seem upset, which was relieving. On the other hand, Mom was also looking over Adege’s head and giving her older daughter the “Come on, you can do it!” look. Right, then.

“Master Zefarinlos,” she said again, trying to keep her voice steady. “Did you, uh... come for the recital?” Yeah, that was brilliant. Because he’d really be here for any other reason! Moron.

Fortunately, the artistic instructor chose to overlook the banality of the comment and take it at face value. “Yes, I did. We’ve messaged each other repeatedly and of course I spoke to you at the exhibition last month, but I really prefer to get to know my potential pupils before I formally choose them. Sometimes personalities just clash, and it’s best to know that ahead of time.”

“Uh, right, that makes sense.” Suddenly what he had said made it all the way through Tzena’s brain. She paused, daring to hope. “Wait. Potential pupils?”

Irilariel burst into a sudden grin. Setting N’stadege gently aside, she rushed to hug K'cintzena. “Oh, Tzena! I’m so proud of you!”

Zefarinlos nodded, still smiling. “That’s right, Tzena. I’d like to offer you a position. Your work these past few years has been exceptional. And as for that... iffy... science score, well, let’s just say that I recall the pain. I had a certain difficulty with mathematics in my youth.” He shuddered dramatically, which made Tzena grin even wider. “In any case, I had a nice chat with your mother before the performance and again now while we were waiting. I understand that there’s a tradition involving dinner after a recital. So how about if I treat you?”

K'cintzena couldn’t manage to get any words out, so she just nodded.

Adege had words enough for them both, so she barged right in. “And me, too, right? ‘Cuz otherwise that’s not fair! I can color, too!”

“N’stadege!” Irilariel snapped.

But the master artist just chuckled. Then, with another overly-dramatic gesture, he pulled N’stadege’s left hand up to waist-level. Adege just looked at him, totally confused. But when he bowed over the hand and kissed her knuckles, she understood and giggled.

“And this must be the Princess Adege, then? A beautiful little flower, on and off the stage. Of course you are invited as well.”

K'cintzena rolled her eyes. Zefarinlos had just made a friend for life, she suspected. She opened her mouth to say something appropriately sisterly, but her mother jabbed her in the ribs with an elbow. Her fierce look was enough to remind Tzena that, while Adege might get away with rudeness because she was eight, fifteen-year-old hopeful pupils would not. She shut her mouth with a snap.

“Where are we going to eat, then?” Adege wanted to know. She looked at her mother. “Mommy, can we have fishies?”

Irilariel and Zefarinlos both looked at K'cintzena. After a pause, Irilariel said, “It’s something of a double celebration now, so why don’t we let Tzena choose?”

Only about ten of her brain cells were really still functioning fully, so Tzena just nodded. “Uh, seafood is fine.”

“Ramisolos’, then?” Zefarinlos suggested.

Tzena was shocked. Ramisolos’ was one of the most expensive restaurants in the wehr!

Her mother must have agreed, since she murmured, “Oh, you don’t have to—”

But Zefarinlos gestured grandly. “Of course I don’t have to. But I’d like to. Come, my treat.” Without allowing them any time for counter-arguments, he led the way out of the auditorium, leading Tzena alongside himself. “Now, K'cintzena – or, Tzena, I understand you prefer? – tell me a little about yourself. How long have you been dancing?

As K'cintzena made awkward answers to the painting master, N’stadege trailed behind with her mother, feeling very confused. It wasn’t until most of the way through supper (and oh, were those ever delicious fishies!) before she really realized what was going on. She had known, ever since Tzena failed the Akademie entrance exams the second time, that her sister would be taking up residency with one of the painting masters. But she’d never realized that some of those masters lived in other wehrn. Like Gendan, for example, where this Zefarinlos apparently lived.

As that understanding dawned on her, Adege’s approval of Zefarinlos diminished sharply. You can’t take her! She won’t go! Cini won’t ever leave! Adege tried to convince herself of that. But one look at Tzena’s happy, nervous face and a second at their mother’s proud, equally nervous one was enough to ruin her good mood.

Cini’s going to go away. And then I’ll be all alone with Mom and Dad. Not even her pretty pink tutu could cheer her up after that.