A servant sang for entry and was waved inside, Vasin taking an instant dislike to the way the man’s eyes darted over his things. A slightly irreverent tone of voice, too, no outright rudeness, but unmistakably souring, like a tiny piece of grit buried in a hunk of bread. The servant helped him dress, wrapping the silk tight on his arms, legs and body, before covering him with the long gown of deep blue that he’d brought. He hated that he did not know the servant. It made him feel vulnerable. What if this one is spying? They may just be displaying a fashionable dislike of the Sapphire, but what if they wish me ill? The thought was impossible to shake, particularly when the servant was touching his face with paint, and highlighting his eyes and lips in gold. It would be so simple to kill me. Poison on the face paint. A thrust of their brush into my eyesocket. I wonder if High Lord Yadavendra would be cruel enough to add such a death to my legend? I wonder if he would deign to bring me back at all?

Sixteen years ago he had been shocked to realize his own staff had been subverted and swapped for those loyal to his brother. The problem was sorted out, now, but it had left him suspicious of anyone he didn’t know. Unconsciously, the index and middle fingers of his right hand curled into a hook, ready to strike the servant at the first sign of anything threatening.

‘Does Lord Vasin wish me to do his cheeks?’

‘Why wouldn’t I?’

‘We have many visitors to the castle at present, all with different needs. Our Tanzanite guests have been dusting the cheeks, while the Opal favour bold dots. One of the Peridot Lords likes several small dots that give an angular rather than circular impression. It’s a new thing, so I’m told. I have not had the honour of serving any of the Sapphire. Would Lord Vasin be kind enough to direct me as to his fashions?’

‘The Peridot may have fashions, but Sapphire ways do not change.’ It was all he could do not to roll his eyes. The minor houses could be so strange, sometimes.

‘I see. Our own lords and ladies are the same. They only ever ask for the lightest brush upon their cheeks. What might the Sapphire way be, Lord Vasin?’

Having never been asked the question before it took him a moment to formulate an answer. ‘You know, accentuate the cheekbones, in a way that’s striking but elegant.’

‘The cheekbones. Yes, my lord. Anything else?’

‘Yes, of course there is.’ Though in that moment he couldn’t remember what it was. He was a Deathless, he shouldn’t have to think about things like this. ‘But that will do for now.’