The question caught him off guard, and his reaction betrayed him. The lines around Laralim’s eyes deepened with satisfaction. ‘For a time, our people took noble roles in these lands without noble history. We were neither of the ruling class, nor the ruled. Some adapted better than others, but for many the harvest has been bitter. Too many were left isolated and lost, yearning to be among their own, to be called home. Were you happy, growing up? Since you left your childhood behind, have you felt at peace?’

He didn’t know where to look, what expression to hold. The thoughts that rattled his brain made it impossible to concentrate on something as mundane as his face. How could she know? Could she know? Was this a wild guess, or was his predicament more common than he realized?

She was watching him, her eyes glowing silver pools in the gloom.

‘You can be at peace here, Vedren.’

Then her gaze lifted, focusing on something behind him, and her indulgent smile returned. ‘As long as you have a friend with you, and you are both back where you should be by next bell, you may make your own way back.’

Relief washed through him like returning blood, bringing with it uncomfortable tinglings, but his disquiet at Laralim’s words remained beneath. Was he so transparent? Was she telling the truth? He took a breath, tried to concentrate. He had a mission. He had a duty.

‘Thank you, Auntie. Good night, Auntie.’

Rasha was on the path behind him, waiting patiently, her friends and family shuffling away into the gathering night. Laralim had endorsed their inevitable union. Let no one intervene.

‘Where would you like to see? There’s not much light left.’

Despite the coming spring, the night’s air was chill, their breath fogging in the torchlight. Chel watched their clouds plume and merge, mingling and fading. They were alone on the upper terrace, the low wind rustling the washed-out blooms beneath them, stirring the freshly turned earth where they’d planted.

‘What’s at the bottom of the terraces?’

Her nose wrinkled in the twilight. Clearly not what she’d expected. ‘The barns, the low barracks, the stables.’ Then her expression shifted, hardening, and she seemed to age before his eyes, becoming at once the young woman she might have been beyond the walls of the estate. ‘Where your friend is.’

‘Do you think, perhaps, we might take a wander that way?’

Her mood had darkened, the playfulness gone from her speech. Too soon, too much. ‘They won’t let you see him, not without an escort. And I’m afraid there I wouldn’t count.’