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The last peals of the evening bells had just been rung when Isla found Haana by the foot of her bed, the salamander's light pulsing over her. An unhappy face, Isla thought, and shuffled aside to allow Haana a seat beside her. 'Can you not sleep?'

'It is much too early.'

Isla agreed, but said nothing of it. Outside, the gaslights had been lit, and for Noi, that meant it was late enough. The handmaid had retreated immediately after dinner – to burn a fresh batch of rue, if the fragrance drifting from her bedchamber was anything to go by. Even Whitebill had grown testy after weeks exposed to the scent. The erne squawked from its perch on the table, and despite Aldir's warning, Isla knelt upon her bed and pushed her window open.

She tossed a blanket over Haana's shivering form. 'Would you like to play a card game?'

'I have played enough of those.'

'Knucklebones?'

'It's too dark to see the ball.'

'No games then.' Isla sighed and wrapped her own blanket up to her chin. 'All right. How about I read you both a story?'

'Both?'

'This little one loves stories.' Isla scratched the salamander softly under its chin. 'And let's not forget Whitebill.'

Haana gave a snort of annoyance, but it was not long before she returned beside Isla with a book. Aldir's gift. I thought she didn't like it.

Isla opened the book over her folded knees, breathing in the smell of fresh paper. She had only ever read aloud to Tam Mai, and that had been so long ago, she had forgotten how to read to an audience. Haana traced the words on the page as Isla read, stopping with a start when the salamander dropped from Isla's shoulder to sniff at the paper.

'"One by one the deities ascended, each having left a blessing amongst their favoured children,"' continued Isla, nudging the daemon away with a finger. '"Amongst the last to remain was Saegyr, patron deity of wisdom. He saw the perils the –"'

'Strategy.' Haana interrupted.

'What was that?'

'He is the patron deity of strategy.'

'Saegyr is the patron deity of many things. Strategy, reason ... the Eling values wisdom above all his virtues, and so here, that is what he is most known for.'

'How can wisdom be more highly regarded than strategy?'

'I would argue both are of equal importance. But for the sake of convenience ...'

'Very well. Continue.'

'"Saegyr saw the perils the divine Grace would bring, and so he summoned his favoured, Aramennos the Just, and to him, too, he passed on his blessing."'

They regarded the accompanying image: a silhouette of golden eyes and blinding light, and kneeling before it a beatific man, eyes wide and face lifted to the deity.

Isla turned the page. '"Having bestowed his Grace, the Wise Father threw up his arms and a great light spread across the sky, into the earth, and under the seas. For three days the world was blinded, and when the light diminished, he said to Aramennos: Rise now with the Grace of Crowns upon thee."'

The illustration depicted a changed man, of broader shoulders and sterner face. A circlet of light glimmered around his brow. Isla peeked at Haana, who showed no signs of dozing.

'"The Wise Father opened his Knowing Eye, and he Saw across the corners of the earth, the names and faces of all else who had been Graced. There he made a promise to Aramennos, that all their Grace shall be entailed, from father –"'

'Entailed?'

It took a second before Isla registered the question. 'Inherited, so to speak. This is where Aramennos learns that Grace is passed three generations down; from father to his children and grandchildren, until one succeeds his Crown and the cycle is renewed.'

'That is also the way in Elingar?'

'Saegyr's Laws apply in every realm, just as fire burns hot no matter where you live. Now. Where was I? "... from father to thrice the generation down his line, after which his progeny will remain nobly blessed."'

'Yes, our tutors say the nobility were distant descendants of the first kings.'

Isla nodded, but not at Haana's observation. The girl could paint, read, and had apparently been tutored. But if she had come from a wealthy background, she was adapting astonishingly well to her new circumstances; sleeping on a pallet on the floor like a scullery maid ...

Of course. Isla did not know how she had missed it before. She must have been a maid to a wealthy girl. Or a bedmate. She must have sat in during her mistress's lessons.

Haana flipped the page.

Aramennos sat on a throne of living willow, his deity large and radiant behind him. Isla continued, '"For many days the Wise Father taught Aramennos the ways of the Crown. But Aramennos was a humble man, and at first reluctant to have others bow before him. Seeing this, Saegyr sat him down and so passed on his First Law: 'Through Grace alone canst one wield the strength of his god, thus through Grace alone is one lifted; Crowned above men, that one may better serve him.'

'"So became Aramennos amongst the first kings and servants of men, and he was Just."'

'He was a conqueror,' said Haana.

'A man can be both.'

The younger girl did not argue. For once. Isla smiled despite herself. Haana was nowhere near as annoying as Tam Mai had been. 'Why?' Her younger sister would ask between every paragraph. And when one question was answered, 'but why?' she would ask again.

Isla turned back to her page. 'We're almost finished. Look, only a few pages left. "So the days passed, and it was time for Saegyr to ascend. He summoned Aramennos one last time, and there pronounced his final edict: 'My son,' said he, 'My time is nigh. No longer canst thou look to me in hardship. The land and its people, its fate lies now upon thy hands and those of thy successors.'"—are you falling asleep?'

'I am only thinking. So many words I do not recognise.'

'Right. Well, this is essentially the part Saegyr teaches royalborn to submit to incest, "for the Grace of Crowns may taint and decline, when thy blood flows with that of common men." It doesn't get more clear than that.'

Haana sniffed. 'The royal pedigree is large enough for it to hardly matter –'

'Of course. Our Maha Rama alone has one sovereign queen and three consorts.'

'– and you forget the nobleborn.'

'You just said they are long descendants of kings, so strictly speaking, it's still –'

'You are unbearable. Just finish the story.'

Isla chuckled, skimming over the page. 'That was the story. Saegyr warns him to bed only royal- or nobleborn, or their children will be "born a barren generation, where neither themselves nor their progeny will bear the Grace of Crowns." And so, having left his Four Laws in his child's hands, he ascends.'

'What? Nothing on the wars Aramennos fought?'

'This is Extracts From the Book of Saegyr, not Great Conquests of Aramennos the Just.'

'Aldir should have bought that one instead.'

Isla closed the book. 'It is a gift. You should be grateful for it.'

'Grateful that he will never see me again?' Haana's voice rose so abruptly, even Whitebill fluttered on his perch.

'What are you talking about? He told you he would –'

'A courtier's promise!' Haana grabbed the book, Isla wincing as the spine stretched during the brief exchange. 'Why else would he give me this? Everyone knows gifts only are presented in final parting. As the deities did to their favoured children, by gifting them with Grace.'

Isla would have laughed if she were not so stunned. 'That ... is not the way in Elingar. Here, we give gifts to show appreciation, or in congratulation, or just because.'

'But ... how senseless!'

'Different, yes. But it's not to be taken as valediction or attempted dismissal.'

Haana's face slowly softened, her body seemed to shrink. 'Then I did not behave graciously.'

'You did thank him –'

'I thought he wanted to be rid of me. Like Sir Edric.'

'How can you think such a thing? Of course not. Come, don't worry about Aldir. He's not quick to take offence.'

'I do not even know when I will next see him. It will be too late to make amends.' Haana rose from the bed, slinking away into the shadow of her pallet. When next she spoke, it came muffled from under her sheets. 'Do you think we can visit the inn tomorrow? Catch him before he goes? I, too, would like to share a gift.'

Isla hesitated. 'Aldir's leaving before dawn ... there'll be no one about. It would be too dangerous.'

'I have my papers, now.'

'It isn't only a matter of –'

'The man in the woods is dead!' Isla could hear the pout in Haana's voice. 'Besides, he had likely been a mere thief.'

'He wasn't the only one.' Haana did not know of the man in the alley, or the silver-servant in the coffee house, and Isla could not see the sense in keeping it from her. 'He was a silver-servant, and we think there are more here.'

Silence. And then, 'That is impossible.'

'I understand you aren't comfortable sharing the reasons you've left Surikhand, but you must know people are after you. I don't need to know why, I just need you to be clever about this.'

'We can send Whitebill to bring him here.'

It was a good idea, but for Noi. 'At this time of day? Noi would have a fit.' The last time a male courter had come knocking after sunset, Noi had berated her for bringing shame upon her father's memory. Never mind that he may still be alive.

'Oh. Of course.' Haana sounded as though she agreed. 'The inn is only around the corner.'

'There's no sense in risking it. You always have next time to make it right with Aldir.'

There was a sniff, and then a quiet, 'You don't know that.'

But Haana did not argue further, for which Isla was thankful. She turned in her bed, her eyes meeting the recess in the wall and her treasures within, glowing in her salamander's gentle light. 'What gift did you have in mind, anyway?'

'A picture,' said Haana after a long pause. 'I used your oils. Only on old paper, so it will not take long before the colours run.'

'I better see it before then, don't I?' The cheer in her voice was painfully forced, but it worked. There was a rustle of paper and Haana was soon back beside her, a yellowed sheet in hand.

The image took Isla's breath away. Sir Edric stared out at her, Aldir beside him and Haana between. She had captured their details perfectly. Her father's stern lips, the greying in his beard, down to the faded scar on his forehead. Light played off Aldir's eyes and hair, shadows dappled Haana's unsmiling form ...

'This is incredible. How did you learn to paint like this?'

'When I was younger, I passed the time imagining how my father looked. Putting it into oils.'

Tam Mai had also liked to put things to colour. It used to annoy Isla, especially as she always had to watch over her sister. Splotches of red, blue, yellow – the entire rainbow would escape the canvas and find its way onto the table or the floor or the bed they shared. Guess who had to clean it all.

'It doesn't even look like anything!' She would complain to her father. And, when she was feeling especially cruel, 'The neighbour's cat could spit out better.' Sometimes Tam Mai would cry. Sometimes that was exactly what Isla wanted.

Isla's vision blurred. She handed Haana back her painting. 'We still have an hour left of twilight.' She knew she would regret it, but she pushed the sheets off and reached under her pillow to draw out her knife.

'You mean ...'

'It would be safer to go now while there are still people about, than to leave before first light.' They could sneak out while Noi was occupied with her Eventide devotions. Haana beamed, but Isla reined in her excitement with a warning hand. 'Mind, we won't be staying long. Give Aldir your gift, then it's right back home.'

'I need only a few minutes, I promise.'

'Put on your furs. It will be cold out.'
      

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