He clapped his hands again. Four more waiters entered, bearing trays of oysters, mussels and eels, which they set upon the table. Again, there was far more food than the five of them could possibly eat, and Clariel knew it would only be the first of many courses. She had no appetite, aware that Aronzo was watching her all the time, and Kilp too, that she was of no account to them save as a playing piece in their game of power, and they were preparing to make a move.

‘You come from the Palace,’ said Kilp, opening an oyster with gusto, using the short, blunt knife provided among the array of cutlery in front of him. ‘How was the King?’

‘We did not see him,’ said Jaciel. She speared a mussel from its shell with a needlelike implement of finely chased silver. ‘He met with Clariel, to receive the kin-gift.’

‘And gave one in return,’ said Harven quickly, clearly wanting to be in on the conversation. ‘A most notable gift.’

‘He did?’ asked Kilp, with a darting glance at Clariel.

‘The Dropstone salt cellar,’ announced Harven cheerfully. ‘We will have it in the workshop tomorrow.’

‘Really?’ drawled Aronzo. ‘I would like to see that. I have heard of it, of course, but to look at it closely …’

‘You must,’ said Jaciel eagerly. ‘It is a remarkable work. Kilp, you too. There is so much that we can learn from it.’

‘I fear I am overburdened with matters of state, rather than matters of craft,’ said Kilp. ‘It is too often the way, but then I was never as skilled as you, Jaciel. Aronzo will undoubtedly benefit from a study of the work, though I must say I am greatly pleased with his journeyman piece. It will go before the Guild assayers next week.’

‘Next week?’ asked Jaciel. ‘Congratulations, Aronzo. You will be one of the youngest masters ever.’

‘Should the work be accepted,’ said Aronzo with, Clariel was sure, entirely false modesty.

‘It will be. You will be a Goldsmith of the High Guild,’ said Kilp. He gave Clariel a slight bow. ‘And a guildmember should be married. When Aronzo sets up his own house and workshop, I would be delighted to see his wife by his side.’

‘So should I,’ said Clariel sweetly. ‘Who are you marrying, Aronzo?’

Kilp laughed. Aronzo transformed the beginnings of an angry scowl into laughter as well, a second too late.

‘You are playful, Lady Clariel,’ said Kilp. ‘It would be good to plan for the wedding soon, as I fear we will all be busy with the current difficulties, which can only be exacerbated by the King’s ill health –’

‘The King is perfectly well,’ interrupted Clariel. ‘And plans for my wedding are much ahead of any likelihood of there being one.’