‘Look at me, Orial.’

Cramoisy’s hand gently touched her chin, tipping her face up towards his. She tried to look away.

‘You have your mother’s eyes,’ he said softly.

‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Orial swallowed back her tears.

‘Has no one ever commented on them before? On their unique colours?’

‘N-no.’

‘And have you ever seen anyone else with such unusual eyes? Has no one ever spoken to you about them?’

‘About my eyes?’

‘I’m not trying to alarm you, child. Heavens, you’ve gone quite white! Here. Sit next to me.’

‘You know something,’ Orial said. ‘That’s why Papa didn’t want me to talk to you. You know something about my mother.’

‘I remember a great deal about your mother.’ Cramoisy twisted his hair back and tucked it expertly beneath the perruque. ‘But I don’t want to antagonise your papa. Surely it is for him to answer any questions you may have about Iridial, not a virtual stranger?’

‘Papa doesn’t allow me to do anything!’ Orial burst out bitterly. ‘I’m not allowed to play music, to hear music. He won’t have it in the house, not since Mama died.’

‘So you have had no training, no lessons? No exposure to music?’

Orial stared down at her hands in her lap. Her secret. Could she trust Cramoisy?

‘I – I have taught myself a few things.’

‘Aha!’ Cramoisy seemed genuinely interested and strangely unsurprised.

‘I don’t know if I am any good.’

‘Let’s give you a little test. The arioso I sang. I wonder if you can recall any of it?’

Orial focused her memory.

‘Y-you must forgive my voice –’

Cramoisy merely made a graceful little gesture with one hand.

Orial cleared her throat. The green and ivory room receded, the ticking of the clock faded to silence. In her thin, clear voice she began to recall the poignant melody. The words escaped her… but the melody was as familiar to her as if she had known it all her life. After a while, aware that Cramoisy was staring at her, she stopped singing.

‘Have you ever heard that melody before today?’

‘Did I make a mistake?’

‘You have an exceptional musical memory. Did you know that? Just like your mother. And –’

A whirring from the pendule clock on the mantelpiece interrupted Cramoisy as it began loudly to strike the hour. Orial started up.

‘Five! I should have been back at the Sanatorium by now. And if Papa asks where I’ve been, I’ll –’

She grabbed her cape and sped down the curved stairs.

‘Thank you for the tea!’ she called over her shoulder.