The next morning dawned bright and clear, and even more detestable to Clariel than ever. The sunlight seemed to penetrate everywhere, accompanied by the dull, ever-present noise of the city, and there was no quiet, cool place to hide, no forest glade to shelter in. After a simple breakfast, taken alone in her room, Valannie appeared, chivvying her to the bath chamber in the lower part of the house, where other servants had laboured in the dark to light the fire that heated the hot water reservoir, and work the pump to fill the cold pool. Clariel offered no resistance to the routine of steam and oiling, and plunged into the cool pool as instructed, and stood to be towelled dry without complaint. But inside she was once again wondering how she might escape the city, and get back to Estwael … or not Estwael exactly, but some part of the Great Forest near it where she would not be so easily found. But finding a practical means of carrying out what was essentially a daydream was no easy task.

‘You seem tired, milady,’ said Valannie, as she helped Clariel dress in linen underwear and the multiple layers dictated by her Guild status and affiliation: alternating tunics of silk, white and gold. ‘Are you well? You were not too alarmed by yesterday’s –’

‘No,’ said Clariel. ‘I am just thinking about … things.’

‘May I suggest, milady, that at the Academy, it would be well to smile, and to talk with the other young folk,’ said Valannie.

‘Why?’ asked Clariel. ‘I have no interest in them. I consider this Academy a mere duty, and a dull one.’

Valannie tied a blue scarf over Clariel’s head.

‘It will be easier for you, milady, to … um … make a pretence of interest. A smile, a simple question – these ease the way with people.’

‘To what end?’ asked Clariel.

‘To make friends,’ said Valannie, with a smile that Clariel found very condescending. ‘Surely, you wish to find some new friends here, milady?’

‘I have friends in the Forest, and in Estwael,’ said Clariel. ‘I will rejoin them soon enough.’

But as she said this, she thought that in fact she had very few friends, and the ones she had were unusual for a woman of her age and station. Her aunt Lemmin was the closest. But she was almost more like an older sister, an ally against her parents. Lemmin provided a useful alibi for her Forest adventures, and was also an uncritical listener to retellings of her exploits, rarely offering a comment, let alone an opinion. She supported Clariel, and loved her, and that love was returned, but they didn’t really talk …

Then there was Sergeant Penreth of the Borderers, a tough and silent woman who had let her trail along and learn by observation since she was thirteen … but again, she didn’t talk much, and Clariel had never felt the need to smile at her, or make conversation.