"Come on over here." Tazi pointed to the pile of evening clothes. "Let me help you into this." She could see hesitation in every step Larajin took.
"Oh, don't act so," Tazi gently chided her. "It's not like you never did this before." Larajin looked at her with some surprise.
"What do you mean, mistress?" she asked softly.
"I've seen you in here before, trying on some of my-how shall I put it-less respectable garments. We are, after all, almost exactly the same size." Seeing alarm spread across Larajin's smooth face, Tazi quickly added, "I don't mind. In fact, you can help yourself to any gown you fancy any time. But I need you to do me a favor tonight because you're my size. I need you to be me for the rest of this evening." She nudged Larajin into the center of her discarded evening wear and began to help her dress.
"Mistress Thazienne, this can't work," Larajin implored, holding out her hands beseechingly.
Almost as though she were dressing a child, Tazi caught up her maid's arms and began to slide them into the snug sleeves. "Don't worry about any of this," she soothed. You only have to be me for a few hours."
Tazi walked behind her maid and began to do up the back of the gown. Larajin tried to protest once more, but Tazi cinched up her corset a little roughly, and Larajin's complaints ended in a sharp gasp. Tazi spun her around to face her.
"This will work out just fine," Tazi warned her. Smiling again, Tazi began to tie up Larajin's rust-colored hair into a style that gave the illusion of shorter locks. After a moment, Larajin gathered up her courage to question Tazi again even after that first, painful rebuke.
"Mistress, I only meant that it might be difficult to pass for you because of the difference in our hair and eyes."
Tazi finished Larajin's hair and moved over to where she had carelessly tossed her feathery mask. She placed it on Larajin and took a step back to admire her handiwork.
"No one should look too closely at your yellow eyes with that on, but you are right about the hair," she said after a moment, tapping one gloved finger against her chin. "Yours looks like it was kissed by the sun and mine is like night." She unconsciously twirled an onyx strand and thought for a moment. "Black," she spoke quietly, "like coal… or soot." With a quick laugh, Tazi ran over to the fireplace and plunged her hands into the cold ashes. She then beckoned Larajin closer with a dirty finger.
"I'm sure this will come out fairly easily," Tazi reassured her maid as she powdered the woman's hair with coal dust and soot, "and it does solve the problem of color very nicely." Tazi finished her job and then gave Larajin a pat on the head to have her look up.
"Now," she admonished, "stop biting your lip, stand up straight, and put a smile on your face." Tazi walked around to stand behind her. She placed her hands on Larajin's shoulders and leaned toward her right ear.
"You can do this," she whispered encouragingly. "And you might even have some fun." Stepping around to once again face her, Tazi added a few last instructions. "All you have to do is dance with a half dozen or so of my current suitors. It shouldn't take more than a few hours. Don't look them in the eye too much," she continued her list as she paced around the unmoving Larajin like a drill instructor, "and don't answer any of their questions. I never do. My mother is now too angry to speak to me for the rest of the evening, and Father will be engrossed in business. He won't have time to trade words with you. I mean me," she smiled. "You should be all set."
Some of Larajin's unease had faded at the mention of the word "fun." Tazi could see she was warming up to the challenge of a prank. There might yet be hope for the girl, Tazi thought. Even if things should go awry and Larajin was found out, Tazi wasn't too concerned. She had noticed that since Larajin had been in the service of the Uskevren, she never received many punishments, unlike the other maids. There must be some arrangement between her and my younger brother, Tazi mused to herself. Larajin would be safe enough. "Let's go," Tazi said and pushed the girl toward the door.
Falling into the role of co-conspirator, Larajin cautiously peered down the hallway but saw that Tazi and she were quite alone. The two women, now so differently garbed, stepped into the passageway. Without exchanging a word, they headed as one toward the grand staircase. Tazi stopped just short of it, however, and Larajin turned questioningly toward her.
"What's wrong," the maid demanded in a loud whisper.
"Nothing," Tazi reassured her. "I'm simply not going your way. I'm just going to slip out through the window back at the end of the hallway," she gestured.
Surprising Tazi, Larajin said, "Don't worry. No one will recognize you. I hardly do myself."
Smiling, Tazi explained, "Actually, there are one or two guests who would recognize me, and I don't feel like explaining anything else tonight. Off with you now," she ordered in a motherly tone to the girl two years her senior. "Don't have too much fun. I do have a reputation to maintain." She only managed to maintain her severe expression for a heartbeat before stifling a laugh. Larajin joined her, and the girls wished each other well.
For a few moments, Tazi observed Larajin as the girl, hesitantly at first, made her way down the grand staircase. At the bottom, Tazi saw with wry amusement that her suitors swarmed around Larajin, each one proffering her an arm and imploring her for a dance. She watched as Larajin carefully selected one and the lucky fellow swept her onto the dance floor. Confident in the subterfuge, Tazi turned to make her way out.
The same two pairs of eyes that watched her leave the ballroom earlier now scrutinized "Tazi's" return. They were not so easily fooled.
Once out in the cool night air, Tazi breathed more easily. It was during this time that she felt the most free. Her days were filled with family obligations and watching eyes, but she had made the nights her own, and she savored the hours. Her first stop would be in the Oxblood Quarter, to gather a bit of information and a drink or two. She moved easily down the streets, so pleased with her escape that she did not notice the dark figure trailing a discreet distance behind her. Soon enough, Tazi had another matter to distract her.
Screams, more terrified than those normally heard in the Oxblood Quarter, caught Tazi's attention. She ducked off of the main street, ears pricked, searching for the source of those uncomfortable wails. It took no more than a moment's hunt down a small back street to locate the cause.
In the rear of the alley, Tazi was able to make out three people. Two burly men had backed a woman against a wall. She must have been responsible for the cries.
The men wore the oily slicks typical of people more accustomed to life on the sea. The boatmen had obviously wandered a bit to be so far from Selgaunt Bay, but Tazi was not surprised in what they had found to distract them this evening. Even in the dim light, Tazi could see the woman was a beauty. She could also see the men appreciated her looks. One of them had unsteadily reached up to touch the woman's face with a hand that did not have all of its fingers. He must not be so adept at handling ropes and nets, Tazi thought mirthfully. Fingers's shorter companion hung back a few paces, content to wait his turn and take another drag from the jug the two had obviously been sharing. The woman was not so content to be their plaything, and she lashed out.
It was either this, Tazi mused, or drinks at the Kit. Without another thought, she charged into the fray.
The woman, her clothes tattered and dirtied, had managed to slash Fingers, more by luck than any real skill. He hissed and pulled back his arm. The sight of his own blood enraged him, and Tazi could see rage burn through his drunken haze. He faced the woman with a hard look. The game was no longer entertaining for him.