“Good. Listen, when you’ve finished, go find her. I need someone to walk with me to Lady Olga’s apartment. When Brill gets back, the two of you are to sort out whatever I’m wearing tonight. When I get back I’ll need you both to dress me and tell me who everybody is, where the bodies are buried, and what topics of conversation to avoid. Plus a quick course in court etiquette to make sure I know how to greet someone without insulting them. Think you can manage that?”

Kara nodded, a quick flick of the chin. “Yes, I can do that.” She was about to say something else, but she swallowed it. “By your leave.” She stood.

“Sure. Be off with you.”

Kara turned and scurried out of the room, back stiff. “I don’t think I understand that girl,” Miriam muttered to herself. Brill I think I’ve got a handle on, but Kara— She shook her head, acutely aware of how much she didn’t know and, by implication, of how much potential for damage this touchy teenager contained within her mood swings.

Brilliana turned up as Miriam finished her coffee, dressed for an outdoor hike. Hey, have I started a fashion for trousers? Miriam rose. “Good morning!” She grinned. “Sleep well after last night?”

“Oh.” Brilliana rubbed her forehead. “You plied us with wine like a swain with his—well, I think it’s still there.” She waited for Miriam to stand up. “Would you like to go straight to Lady Olga? Her Aris says she would receive you in the orangery, then take tea with you in her rooms.”

“I think, hmm.” Miriam raised an eyebrow, then nodded when she saw Brilliana’s expression. No newspapers, no telephones, no electricity. Visiting each other is probably the nearest thing to entertainment they get around here when none of the big nobs are throwing parties. “Whatever you think is the right thing to do,” she said. “Where’s my coat…”

Brilliana led her through the vast empty reception chamber of the night before, now illuminated with the clear white light of a snow-blanketed day. They turned down a broad stone-flagged corridor. It was empty save for darkened oil paintings of former inhabitants, and an elderly servant slowly polishing a suit of armor that looked strangely wrong to Miriam’s untrained eye: The plates and joints not quite angled like anything she’d seen in a museum back home.

“Lady Aris said that her excellency is in a foul mood this morning,” Brilliana said quietly. “She doesn’t know why.”

“Hmmph.” Miriam had some thoughts on the subject. “I spent a long time talking to Olga on the way here. She’s…let’s just say that being one of the inner Clan and fully possessed of the talent doesn’t solve all problems.”