A whispered incant released the clock’s tick and chime. Lady Grie smiled at the owl hoots, then clapped her hands in delight as the raucous cock-crow chime faded into silence.

“Wonderful! I adore it. Better yet, my mother will be most diverted. And I assure you, Mage Lindin, such a feat is not easily achieved.”

“Remember,” Artisan Master Arndel had warned her before she left the artisanry. “If Lady Grie should compliment your work, you are to take no credit, is that clear? The design was hers, you but followed her lead. Her taste is exquisite. The clock’s success is her own.”

Mindful of her precarious position, Barl pasted a modest smile to her lips. “The clock practically made itself, Lady Grie, so wonderful was your original design.”

Lady Grie snorted. “Arndel told you to say that, did he? Well, you’ve done as you were bid. But know that I know how much is due to you.”

Barl felt a warm flush of pleasure. Immediately resenting it, she returned the clock to the sideboard. If only the woman’s approval didn’t mean so much. If only she could prove Remmie wrong, and be indifferent to praise. But she couldn’t. When she was sure her expression was once more blandly polite, she turned to Lady Grie.

“Master Arndel hopes you know that his door remains open to you always, my lady.”

Another snort. “In the hope that my purse remains open to him. And so it shall, Mage Lindin, provided you are here to turn my idle dreams into reality.”

“Of course, Lady Grie.”

Where else would I be but in Batava, since I’m denied a privilege that you take for granted?

Lady Grie tapped her fingertips on the arm of her chair. “Your expression tells me plainly you think I am ignorant of your plight. You’re mistaken. I may be a First Family mage, Barl, but we are not all of us equal. I could yearn for a place on the Council of Mages, but I would yearn in vain. As you vainly yearn for a place in the College.” Her lips curved into an edged smile. “I tell you this so you’ll know I understand your frustrations. And because I understand them, I shall protect you as best I can, and see you are well treated by Master Arndel.”

“Oh.” Surprised almost speechless, Barl nodded. “That is kind of you, Lady Grie.”

“Not really. I don’t wish to lose your magework.”

At least the woman was honest. “As I don’t wish to lose your patronage, my lady.”

Lady Grie shrugged. “Continue making beautiful things for me and you won’t.” With a grimace, she shifted in her chair. “You can collect payment for my mother’s gift from Dassett on your way out. The carriage will return you to the artisanry. Tell your esteemed Artisan Master I’ll have another commission for you soon.”