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'Must be four years since,' Prijsti began. They were in her home, a small building clustered around a row of similar houses just east of Isla's asraam. The servants' district, Haana had let slip. Where favoured workers were provided with a private home.

It was a sparse room in which Isla was being entertained; wide enough for a dining table, a couple wooden chairs, and a cabinet. The walls were bare but for several closed shelves and a herb rack. Isla waited, wordlessly, as Prijsti prepared some tea.

'I lived in the anterior ring then.' Prijsti set the drinks on the table, and Isla breathed in the sweet smell of vanilla. Her host was still busy with the shelves, pulling out a plate of thinly-sliced layer cake. 'Two men came knocking on my door one night. Said they'd been a long time looking for me. They'd been spying on my son. Knew he had been involved in smuggling a few Surikh into Elingar – a crime fit for death, they said.'

Blackmailed with a lie. Isla could tell where the story was headed. The only paddler Sir Edric and Aldir had ever smuggled in was Haana.

Prijsti took a seat across her, the cake beckoning between them. Isla did not think it was an appropriate time to engorge herself, so she took a sip of her tea instead.

'They promised they wouldn't tell the Eling if I complied. So I moved to the palace as asked. They gave me work. A place to stay. Questioned me a whole lot, about my lover, my life in Elingar, my son. Then they asked for my ring and never came back.' Prijsti played with the ring. A token of love from Aldir's father, Isla recalled. 'Didn't think I'd ever see it again. How'd it come to your father? What was his name?'

'Bartol,' Isla said, putting her tea down. 'He supplies for Captain Stirling, whom gave him this letter.'

Prijsti shook her head in remorse. 'So they were telling the truth? My son really is involved in something so dangerous?'

'He's a good man. From what I've heard,' Isla added quickly. 'This ring came to his possession, and he recognised it immediately.'

'But how'd it get all the way to Elingar?'

'I don't know, miss. I'm just a fisherman's daughter. I only came here to give you these messages.' She took out two envelopes, unopened, and passed them on to a wary Prijsti.

One of them bore the sigil of Cannersly. Somewhere in Prijsti's mind, she must have recognised it, for she whispered Sir Edric's name. Isla gave her some time to read the letters. The woman started with the note from Sir Edric before moving on to the one from her son. Isla did not know what either of them had written, but by the end of it all, Prijsti had tears in her eyes and needed a moment to regain herself.

'What kind of a mother am I,' she started, 'that I couldn't even care for my own son? I left him there, with that ... that woman! And his father!'

Prijsti burst into tears. Isla did not know what to do. Should she reach out across the table and squeeze her hand? Wrap her in a blanket? In the end, she did nothing but pour Prijsti more tea.

'His father could never – not with that woman –' Prijsti stumbled between heavy sobs. 'But thank the deities for Edric. I knew he'd care for Aldir.'

Isla looked around uncomfortably as Prijsti cried into her hands. She found a tea towel and offered it to the woman.

'I wished I could've taken him with me.' Prijsti wiped her eyes and looked up, as though Isla could forgive her for what she had done. 'But I was driven out. And Aldir – he'd be better with his father, you know? At least I thought.'

'It doesn't matter,' Isla said quickly before Prijsti could resume her crying. 'You will be reunited with him soon.'

Prijsti stared blankly at her, but Isla did not care to explain. She would soon see herself, and there were far more important matters at hand.

'Did your son tell you how he came to be in possession of your ring?'

'He wrote a girl gave it to him. A paddler, claiming to be my daughter.'

Isla feigned surprise but leaned forwards in genuine interest. 'Claiming to be your daughter?'

'I have no children. Not after Aldir.' Prijsti's hand began to tremble. 'Whoever this ... Haana is ... she's not to be trusted.'

'You don't know who she is?'

'Haana? I don't know anyone of that name.'

Isla sank back into her seat, her heart sinking with her. Prijsti had been her only hope; the first link in what she hoped was a long chain leading straight to Haana's master. Now she would have to find another way of seeking her answers, and she did not know where to begin.

The sun had set by the time Isla returned to her room. Her fellow occupants had arrived before her, but she was still deep in thought that she failed to notice the glum look on Tran's face.

'We waited for you a long time, Lilja,' said the girl, and Isla immediately felt a deep and burning shame.

I completely forgot. 'I am so sorry ... I did not mean to. I was caught up –'

'Of course you were.' Phrae was smiling a little too gleefully.

'I truly am.' Isla ignored Phrae and turned out the small pack Prijsti had given her. 'I got you these.'

She uncovered the leaf-wrapped sliced cakes and put them on Tran's bedside table. Phrae scoffed at the offering, but Tran looked eagerly at the treat. Their dinners were uniform and dull; anything scavenged out of the Grand Palace kitchens was an indulgence not to be spurned.

'You're bribing us with food?' Phrae snatched a cake out of Tran's hand and tossed it back on the table.

'I've been helping out in the kitchens –'

'Yes, we can clearly smell that.'

'– and they are completely besieged with preparations for the Rising Year celebration.'

'What are you doing in the kitchens anyway?' Phrae was not having it. 'We're dhayang now! We'll be governesses and silver-servants. Noble housewives or Queen's Cabal. Not some ... kitchen hand!'

'My father is a kitchen hand!' Tran snapped, and Phrae lost her heat.

'There is no shame in honest work,' Isla said, stepping in between the two girls. She rummaged again into the pack Prijsti had given her and tossed three frocks onto Phrae's bed. 'And even you, Phrae, will be begging to put these on once I tell you girls what else I have in store for you.'

'What are you talking about.' Phrae folded her arms.

'As I was saying, before you continued to interrupt; the kitchen is inundated with work, and it will only become worse with the coming celebrations. Head Cook is looking for volunteers – not a permanent position if you don't fancy it to be – and I've signed us all up.'

'Why in the deepest corners of the epperstrom would I –'

'You don't have to take the offer,' Isla interrupted, addressing all two girls. 'But if you would like to attend the Rising Year party in the Grand Palace, this is your only invitation.'

Phrae fell quiet, while Tran contemplated silently.

'The celebration is still quite a way from now, so you have plenty of time to consider.' Isla took one of the kitchen frocks and retreated to her own bed. 'But your party dresses are there should you want it.'
               

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