‘I fear not, Lady Jaciel,’ said Gullaine. ‘The King is old and tired, and visitors tax his strength. He has agreed to see Lady Clariel for the kin-gift, as ancient tradition demands, but that is all.’

‘I demand to see him,’ said Jaciel. ‘We are second cousins, after all.’

‘His Highness has given strict orders that allow no variation,’ said Gullaine. ‘However, perhaps I should also tell you that a number of items I believe you wish to see have been placed in the Upper Hall, to … ameliorate your disappointment at not seeing His Highness.’

‘What items?’ asked Jaciel.

‘Items I believe are of particular interest to one of your craft, Lady Jaciel. The Dropstone-work salt cellar and the swan dish,’ replied Gullaine.

‘Ah,’ sighed Jaciel, the sound of a starving person finally being offered food.

‘Also a water ewer that is believed to be Dropstone work,’ continued Gullaine. ‘Though it is unfinished and does not bear the mark.’

‘Unfinished?’ asked Jaciel. Now her whole body stiffened to attention like a dog catching that first scent of a fox. ‘I did not know … I must … I must see it!’

‘Kariam will take you there now,’ said Gullaine. ‘Lady Clariel, please, this way.’

Though she didn’t appear to do anything, the gate marked for the Clayr’s glacier swung open, again only just enough to admit Clariel and Gullaine in single file. There was a narrow winding stair on the other side, and here they could walk side by side, though Clariel’s shoulder brushed the wall. It should have been dark, enclosed by stone with no windows, but there were bright Charter marks in the walls. Marks that grew brighter as Clariel drew nearer and faded as she passed.

‘Are we going to some sort of throne room or something?’ asked Clariel. ‘Or a great hall?’

‘No,’ said Gullaine. ‘We go to the battlements of the North Wall, facing the sea. The King likes to look out from there in the afternoon, if the day is warm. In a moment we will have to pause a little. Do not be alarmed.’

She said this as they reached a landing, a small room that had two doors leading to left and right, while the stairs continued up. The room was empty, save for a bare wooden chair in one corner. The walls, unlike in the lower stair, were plastered rather than bare stone, and painted a pale yellow.

‘Sit on the chair, please,’ said Gullaine. ‘This will only take a few minutes.’

Clariel sat on the chair, and looked at Gullaine.

‘Why do I need to sit here?’

‘One of the King’s Guardians must look you over,’ said Gullaine. ‘They are Charter sendings, of a kind. It won’t take long. Here comes one now.’