The Book of Forbidden Wisdom Read Online Free PDF Page B

stick in my chin and that green eyes were just unfashionable. Not unbeautiful. But Silky thought the world of me, and I didn’t expect her to be the most objective judge.
    Now she stared into space; she was miserable or in shock or both. I had to keep her out of a ‘Lidan match. I would not let her be branded and owned and silenced. Their practices were not our practices—­and my sister would never be on the receiving end of a brand.
    Nor would I. Ever .
    I had tasted despair the night my mother died; Silky, young then, had yet to know real despair. My job was to protect her.
    Our mother would have wanted that.
    Silky and I sat.
    â€œYou know they’re deciding our fates,” Silky said finally.
    â€œI know.”
    â€œIs Leth going to rescue you?”
    I hesitated. Then I spoke firmly.
    â€œYes.”
    â€œAre you sure?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œWho’s going to rescue me?”
    â€œI am.”
    She didn’t reply, because she knew it was true.
    I would make sure that wherever Leth and I lived after he rescued me, there would always be room for Silky.
    My thoughts turned back to what was going on in the other room—­without us. Trust Kalo to insinuate himself with the ‘Lidans. I supposed I was glad they hadn’t simply killed him, but it was possible I was experiencing the kind of family feeling that they drilled into women from infancy on. Early training was hard to overcome.
    I noticed that the beautiful decorations on my hands were smudged, and I imagined that I had sweat away those on my throat. Perhaps the tendrils from the nape of my neck and down my back and arms still remained.
    The tarnished, wilted exhausted bride-­that-­almost-­was. All the ceremony was rubbing away. What flowers remained fresh would soon fade. Like me.
    We waited.
    A nd then there was a knock on the door—­a knock, meaning a stranger to the household. But before I could get to the door to lock out whoever it was (my father or Kalo would have simply walked in), the door opened.
    The bard stepped inside.
    â€œI’m sorry,” he said. But he didn’t look sorry, and he didn’t drop his eyes. He pushed his thick hair back out of his face, and again I saw depth in his blue eyes.
    I felt as if a chair had been pulled out from under me.
    â€œI’ve been wandering the house,” he said. “They wouldn’t let me in at the feast. Although the cook gave me scraps in return for the news.” I wondered why he was in the house at all.
    â€œWhat do you want?” I asked.
    â€œI need to get paid,” said the Bard.
    For some reason, I was disappointed, although I didn’t know what I expected.
    Silky was on her feet and halfway across the room before I could move.
    â€œGo away, ” she said. “This is the Lady Angel . This is the bride, and you don’t even bow .”
    â€œOh,” said the Bard. “Sorry. But.”
    â€œYou still need to get paid,” I said.
    Silky blazed. “You come in here for money? You have no right to bother the Lady Angel. No right .” And then she broke down in tears.
    â€œWrong room, I suppose,” said the Bard. “But I’ve tried all the others.” Yet I noticed he made no move to leave.
    I felt strangely calm, but it may have been because of the Bard’s behavior. He looked around the room with interest—­at the books, at Silky, at me in my wilted state—­but I could tell he meant us no harm; I had no sense that he was covetous. He probably needed the money badly.
    He shrugged. “I just need to get paid for the wedding music,” he said. “I never got to the epic or the comic ballads.”
    â€œAnd for how much of the wedding music do we owe you?” I asked. We stood there staring at each other.
    And it wasn’t about the money.
    Silky had gone back to the long-­chair, and, although she continued to weep quietly, I had no sense