“Anyway, they want me to train as an Artificer while they figure out how to make this Gift reliable, and I guess when I know how to do repairs and reinforcement they’ll send me out on bridge and building inspections.” That was pure speculation on her part, but it did make sense, and the instructor nodded approvingly. It also doesn’t sound like someone who wants to make a big reputation for herself. You don’t make a reputation doing bridge inspections, you make one designing famous temples and expensive manor houses. If she was going to help her father, a reputation was the very last thing she needed or wanted anyway. Except, maybe, a reputation for keeping her mouth shut and getting the job done.

“But that’s not fair!” whined someone at the front of the room where Abi couldn’t see him. “She’ll know how to tell where models are bad without having to work at it!”

“She’ll be required to show her work just as the rest of you are,” the instructor snapped, in a tone of voice that told Abi very clearly that he didn’t care for this particular student.

Among the many, many useful things she’d learned from both her father and her mother so far, one of them was what they called “reading a room”—seeing where the power dynamics were. You didn’t need Gifts to do that; all you needed was a pair of eyes, a mind, and careful observation. The moment that whining complaint emerged from the complainer’s mouth, the room sorted itself in front of her eyes.

It was quite clear that the complainer was someone who expected not only to be listened to but to have any implicit orders obeyed. She could see right off that three of the boys in this room were his personal sycophants, as their own little nods of agreement or sullen expressions showed. The rest of the boys were not at all impressed, and in fact, the complaint had thrown them over to her side.

Interestingly the instructor was no more impressed by the complainer than she herself was, and she got the distinct feeling that if he could be rid of this student, he would happily throw him out. But that arrogance, that assumption of power, said the boy was either highborn or very wealthy.

Now, it was vanishingly unlikely that any of the highborn would have a son in this set of classes. Builders were Tradesmen, and while you might allow your second or third daughter to marry one who was sufficiently wealthy, you certainly would not let your son become one. That meant that this boy’s parents were not highborn. But the fact that he expected to be heard and obeyed meant that they were very wealthy. These were all interesting things to know and take note of.