Nine for the Devil

Chapter Thirty-nine

That’s done, Kuria thought, and so now for the next step.

She set off down the Mese, having left the palace for the last time. She felt more confident than she had in days.

When she had returned to her room earlier after a stroll in the gardens, she found it sealed up, the door boarded shut.

There was irony in her being barred from her own room. Like most of the attendants, she rarely closed her door, let alone locked it. In this part of the palace there was no need. When they were not on call the young women spent as much time in each other’s rooms as their own.

The eunuch who oversaw the quarters for the ladies-in-waiting would not arrange for Kuria to be let back in, even to collect a few precious belongings. He claimed to have had the orders from the Master of Offices.

She asked if she might return for some things later when the room was cleared out.

The eunuch laughed. Everything inside was to be burnt.

Kuria felt a momentary pang of regret she had not chosen to go to the gardens later. If she had been present when the Master of Offices’ men arrived, she might at least have salvaged one particular item.

Perhaps it had been wise to go to the gardens early. For all she knew, they might have thrown her out of the palace bodily. She supposed, eventually, someone would do so. A bureaucrat in a warren in the administration building had probably forgotten to sign all the required documents.

So she had been deprived of a place to stay before being officially evicted.

There was no point in waiting.

After the shock of Theodora’s death had worn off, she had made plans. She had done what needed to be done in the palace, and now she had taken the first step on the way to her new life outside the palace.

Although she had lost almost everything, it was some consolation that she happened to be wearing her favorite dark green stola. It was no coincidence she practically coruscated in the morning sun, thanks to her jewelry. She’d prudently worn every piece she owned every day since the empress died.

Besides, she needed to look attractive for what she had to do.

She needed to make it plain that she was a lady now.

Kuria was not a beauty, but when she put her mind to it she was able to project an air of assurance that indicated a much higher station than she held.

A pair of laborers, judging by their dusty breeches and stained tunics, moved aside deferentially as she strode along.

Good, Kuria thought.

She was almost there.

She was prepared.

But it was also necessary for her to find a little of the young whore she’d been, to apply a dab of that garish makeup. Enough to say that she was a lady, but willing to be a bit more exciting than most ladies.

She passed the Hippodrome and crossed the street that ran along the side of the racecourse. She didn’t glance at the one-legged beggar sitting on a pile of rags near the intersection.

She never knew he was there until he was dragging her through the doorway of a vacant shop.