The walls were plastered over the stone, and the plaster painted with scenes out of legends Skif didn’t even begin to recognize. Candle sconces had been built onto the walls to provide light later, and there was an enormous fireplace truly large enough to roast an ox. There was no fire in it now, of course, but someone had placed an ox-sized basket of yellow, orange, and red roses between the andirons as a kind of clever fire substitute. The room looked out into the courtyard in the center of the Old Palace; here the walls were not of the massive thickness of the outer walls, and the windows ran nearly floor to ceiling, with a set of glass doors in the middle that could be opened onto the courtyard itself. There were sideboards along the wall, covered with snowy linen cloths, set up to receive foodstuffs, though none were there yet except two baskets of fruit. Candles and lanterns waited on one of the tables, though none had been put in their sconces and holders, nor lit. Skif took a tall wax taper, and went out into the corridor, lighting it at one of the corridor lamps. He then went about the room setting up the lights, quite as if he’d been ordered to do so. There seemed to be too many lanterns for the room, so after consideration, he took the extras out into the courtyard and hung them on the iron shepherd’s crooks he found planted among the flowers for that purpose.

Roughly a quarter-candlemark later, a harried individual in Royal livery stuck his head in the door and stared at him. “What—Did I order you to light the lamps?” he asked, sounding more than a bit startled.

Skif made his voice sound high and piping, more childlike than usual. “Yes, milord,” he replied, with a bob of his head. “You did, milord.”

The man muttered something under his breath about losing one’s mind as the hair grayed, then said, “Carry on, then,” waving a hand vaguely at him.

Skif hid his grin and did just that. It was one of the things he’d learned impersonating a page at Lord Orthallen’s. If a boy was doing a job (rather than standing about idly), people would assume he’d been set the task and leave him alone. Even if the person in charge didn’t recall setting the task or seeing the boy, that person would take it for granted that it had just slipped his mind, and leave the boy to carry on.