‘Greetings. I am Clariel,’ said Clariel quickly. ‘Daughter of Jaciel High Goldsmith and her consort, Harven.’

‘Well met, Lady Clariel,’ said the Spicer, though her face gave no indication that it was indeed a happy meeting. ‘I am Yaneem, daughter of Guildmaster Querem of the High Guild of Spicers and her consort, Wihem, also a Spicer.’

Clariel immediately turned to the next young woman and rattled off the same greeting again, ignoring Dyrell’s wince as she sped through it. The Vintner looked a bit friendlier, Clariel thought. She was also tall and dark-haired, and perhaps could even be described as beautiful, or would be in a few years, as she had not yet grown into herself. She actually looked at Clariel as she replied, and there was warmth in her eyes, which were somewhere between blue and green.

‘Well met, Lady Clariel. I am Denima, daughter of Haralf of the High Guild of Vintners and his consort, Jonal, Undermistress of the Guild of Upholders.’

‘Now, please, my lords and ladies, be seated around the tea table,’ intoned Dyrell, indicating a fairly low, hexagonal table of pale timber with a tiled top, set with an unlit spirit burner, a small tin of friction lights, a highly polished metal kettle, an enamelled box that was open revealing tea leaves, a white ceramic teapot and six very pale yellow ceramic cups on even paler saucers. The table had six curiously foreshortened chairs around it, as if like the table, it was made for people a foot smaller than usual. ‘Highest precedence to the north chair, there, then clockwise around.’

Aronzo immediately sat in the north chair, and patted the seat next to him.

‘Here, Lady Clariel, before Bel tries to sit down.’

Clariel didn’t move. She didn’t like the way Aronzo was patting the seat, like he was calling a dog to come and sit by him.

‘I will sit last, as Dyrell insists is the current mode,’ said Bel. ‘Yaneem and Denima, I am sure you will be happy to sit before I do.’

‘Conversation after the tea service,’ pleaded Dyrell. ‘You know that! Silence and decorum, please. A slight nod, a gesture, no more!’

Yaneem and Denima sat in the approved fashion, without speaking, leaving Clariel and Bel standing. Aronzo patted the adjacent chair to his left again, and smiled at Clariel in what he obviously intended to be a winning fashion. He was very handsome, she noted without favour. Combined with being Kilp’s son, that probably meant he was used to getting his own way with women as much as in anything else.

‘I am also close kin to the Abhorsen,’ said Clariel. ‘Perhaps I should sit in the least chair.’

‘No, no,’ beseeched Dyrell. ‘You are a goldsmith. It really isn’t difficult, Lady Clariel. You sit here, to the left of Lord Aronzo.’