Barl took her time turning away from the picture window in Lady Grie’s grand parlour. The comment was an odd way for the woman to announce her presence. Did she think complimenting Remmie would set an unranked mage at ease? Or was her intent more sinister?

I know who your family is. And if you displease me, who can say what I might do?

She didn’t know Lady Grie well enough to be certain. Best to be cautious, then, and remain on her guard.

“Lady Grie,” she said, nodding respectfully. “Artisan Master Arndel asks me to convey his best wishes, and his hope that you find your clock satisfactory.”

Today Lady Grie was dressed in blue silk, her hair pinned with sapphires, her slender throat captured by gold. She closed the parlour doors, then flicked a careless glance at the gift for her mother, covered and placed on the carved wooden sideboard by a servant.

“I’ve no doubt I shall.” One eyebrow arched. “You haven’t assuaged my curiosity.”

And nor did she want to. Remmie had nothing to do with this woman. His pupils were unranked, his world far removed from hers.

But I don’t dare displease her.

Resenting that, she forced a polite smile. “Remmie’s a fine teacher, yes. His students care for him very much.”

“But do they learn?”

“He says they do.”

Lady Grie arched both her eyebrow. “And what do you say?”

“I say he’s right, but you can hardly count me disinterested. He’s my brother.”

“I have two brothers,” said Lady Grie. “I never compliment them, nor do they compliment me. Our loathing is mutual. Such is the joy of family.”

Barl linked her fingers behind her back. All this pointless chitchat, and if she was late returning to the artisanry Arndel would blame her.

“Lady Grie—”

Waving a hand for silence, Lady Grie crossed the plush cream carpet to a silk-striped, plumply cushioned armchair and lowered herself into it with a groaning sigh. She looked monstrously uncomfortable, a life-sized discouragement to any woman contemplating a child.

“I’m curious about your brother, Mage Lindin, because I’m curious about you. So much talent in an unranked mage, it’s not… usual. I’m intrigued.”

Barl blinked. “Oh.”

Lady Grie rubbed a smooth, slender hand over her distended belly. The blue silk rustled, whispering of wealth. “And because I’m intrigued, I made some inquiries. It seems you’ve ruffled feathers in the College of Mages. And the Hall of Knowledge.”

Hearing that was like being doused with ice water. Before she could stop herself, Barl took a step forward, her temper woken and seething. “The Council’s told tales of me? To you? Lady Grie—”

“No, no, not the Council,” the woman said. “Your Guild. So many important people upset with you, Mage Lindin. I have to say, I’m surprised. I thought you were clever.”