‘Through here,’ said Gullaine, opening a door that led to a long, narrow corridor of bare stone. The corridor had no windows and was dark, save for a few scant pools of light from Charter marks set in the walls. There was another door at the far end, some fifty paces away.

Clariel had only just started along the dark corridor when she realised Gullaine had fallen in behind her, when before she had led the way. She felt a stab of fear, suddenly wondering if Gullaine thought she was lying about wanting to be Queen. Maybe the Captain thought Clariel had thrown in her lot with Kilp and Aronzo, that she was going to try to claim the throne, and was going to get rid of her once and for all. She started to walk faster, her shoulder blades itching, as if any moment a dagger would fall. Perhaps she should turn, and … and what? She was unarmed –

‘This is a shortcut. We’re inside the Western Wall,’ said Gullaine from close behind, making Clariel jump. ‘I haven’t used it for a long time, I’m sorry it’s so dark. There’s always somewhere in the Palace that needs the light spells cast anew, and we no longer have enough Charter Mages to keep up. If you just turn that knob, Lady Clariel, a door will open.’

Clariel’s hand shook slightly as she turned the bronze knob. A wooden panel slid aside revealing a large, bright room where large windows let in the afternoon sun for full effect. The walls were panelled in a light and lustrous timber, there was a thick carpet of red and gold on the floor, and a divan or daybed sat in the middle of that carpet. A young man with badly cut black hair was lying on the divan, dressed in a robe of blue and silver that was too large for him, reading a book that was also too large to be easily held so he had propped it up on his stomach. A young woman in the purple and green of the Vintners was sitting next to his feet on the far end of the divan, also reading. A bowl of grapes lay on the floor between them, with more empty stems than ones with fruit.

‘Bel! Denima!’ exclaimed Clariel. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘I live here,’ said Bel. ‘In the Palace. Didn’t you know?’

‘I’m visiting Bel,’ said Denima, with a blush. ‘I wanted to see he wasn’t … I wanted to make sure he was not too badly hurt.’

‘But Bel … you said you couldn’t see the King!’ protested Clariel, stepping down into the room. The hidden door to the passage was at least two feet higher than the floor here, indicating the confluence of two different epochs of Palace construction.