Dorrin explained. “Some were Liartians—well, most had been threatened into saying they were, but only a few wore the horned chain. The kitchen staff—I’ve got a very capable head cook, and the one I brought with me is competent with the basics. Housekeeper—I’m not even sure what a housekeeper does; we never had one at Kieri’s stronghold.”

“Ah,” Lady Marrakai said. “Then you need help, my dear—I hope you don’t mind my saying that—”

“Not at all,” Dorrin said.

“The proper organization of a ducal household will reassure your people as well as make your life much easier. To start with, you need experienced senior staff. Since you already have a cook, you’re in luck—good head cooks are the hardest to find. How is her bread?”

“Very good,” Dorrin said.

“Excellent. Now, I presume there’s a garden and a fruit orchard.”

“Yes,” Dorrin said.

“How many gardeners?”

Dorrin was ashamed to admit that even after a quarter-year she was not sure, nor did she know anything about the training of the dairy staff, the brewing staff, or even—as Marrakai chimed in—the stable staff.

“Not to worry,” Lady Marrakai said, more cheerfully than Dorrin expected. “If you have to start from the bottom, you’ll know more when you’re done. Gwenno, go fetch my domestic journal.”

This philosophy was so alien to the Verrakai way of doing things that Dorrin felt once more how inadequate she was. But Lady Marrakai did not seem to notice. Instead, she ticked off items on her fingers.

“Steward—someone who can oversee everything—trustworthy to manage while you’re gone—must be good with people and with numbers—” She paused, frowning a little. “Didn’t Count Farthen mention sometime this spring that he had an under-steward who was capable of a larger job?”

“Yes,” Marrakai said. “He’s still in town; I’ll ask him tomorrow.”

Two turns of the glass later, Dorrin was still leafing through the little book Gwenno had brought back and listening to Lady Marrakai’s advice. Finally Lady Marrakai stopped short in the middle of her lecture and grinned, a grin very like Gwennothlin’s. “I hope you realize I’m doing this for the fun of it—it’s not that I think you’re stupid or anything.”

Dorrin shook her head. “No—I really know nothing about running a normal establishment. Organizing a soldier’s camp or a fort is very different, barring the need for food and cleanliness. You’ve been very helpful.” She glanced at Gwenno. “But I never gave my answer about your daughter, and she’s waited with uncommon patience. Gwennothlin, if you wish to be my squire, I will be pleased to have you. There are legalities we had in the Duke’s Company—”

“Of course,” Duke Marrakai said. “Well, Gwenno?”

“Yes!” the girl said. “Yes, thank you, lord Duke.”

“Then we can sign the papers tonight, if you will, Dorrin, and get this pesky wench out of our house—” But his look at Gwenno was tender, not dismissive.

“She cannot go tonight,” Lady Marrakai said firmly. “She must pack, and I must make her shoulder knots in the Verrakai colors immediately. Two days for Verrakai-blue tunics.”