Look at an artist’s hands—sullied by colors. Powerful and strange. —“Intangible Gods,” Daphne Leander, Year Ten PEN RETURNS WITH COMPLAINTS THAT THE prince was trying to spy on her while she used the water room, but she’s otherwise unscathed. “If that isn’t the silliest thing I’ve heard today,” the princess says, helping me to my feet. “If it were a boy in the water room, maybe he’d spy then.” “Leste!” he cries. “You’re more interested in my betrothed than I am,” she says. “His cheekbones—Honestly.” She takes the lantern from her brother and pushes me toward the door. For the first time, I’m able to see the stairwell that brought me here, but it’s all I’m able to see on the way to and from the water room, which isn’t even a fitting name because it has no running water and is little more than a hole in the ground. But I’m still thinking about the prince being attracted to his sister’s betrothed.
