I don't know who's more displeased with the new addition to my lessons, me or the emperor.
Her hands are folded in the lap of a sumptuous skirt, the image of a well-behaved, rich kid. It's weird seeing Julia up close again. The last time I saw her was when we'd learned I was a promised child and she was throwing a tantrum about why her 'slave' sister was there. So I don't buy the facade at all.
"Sister," Julia says in a stiff manner. Her mask thankfully cracks at this point, ungifted at the deception that runs in her mother's veins. Her smile is thin and brittle, ready to break apart at any moment. Even a blind man would be able to see her displeasure.
"Julia!" I'm almost more Katya's daughter than she is, the smile lighting up my cheeks looks far more realistic than hers. My trick? Believe the lie. Lean into it. I rush over and grab cold hands that jerk in my grasp, grinning like Julia's my best friend instead of the daughter of the one who wants me dead.
