“It does,” I finally said. “Thank you for reframing it.”
Mother looked puzzled. “That was the way it arrived.”
“Oh.” Who had had reframed it, and why? It had been in a simple black frame for the competition, as was required, so that no painting had an advantage. “I must have forgotten.”
Khethila gave me a sideways glance, as if to suggest that wasn’t something I’d forget. She was right, but what else could I have said?
Once she was seated, Mother looked at me. “You could have sent a note, saying you would be coming.”
“I honestly didn’t know that I would have this afternoon free until it was too late.”
Mother just raised her eyebrows.
“I was given more training, and while it was going on, I couldn’t leave Imagisle. I finished it more quickly than I’d been told it would take. This is the first time I’ve left the Collegium since I had dinner with you the last time.”
“Even if you didn’t let us know, it was good of you to come here first. You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?” asked Mother.
“Not tonight.” I could have, but it was the fourth Samedi of the month. I hadn’t seen any of my friends since I’d become an imager, and it was a certainty that some of them would either be at Lapinina or at the Guild Hall later in the afternoon. “I’ll be more free from now on, since I won’t be spending quite so much time in training.”
“Your father will be disappointed.”
“I can stay for a while after we eat.”
“He said he’d be later today.”
“Does the extra time off mean that you got advanced again?” asked Khethila.
I smiled. “I did get nicer quarters-two rooms to myself, a sitting room or study, and a sleeping chamber.”
“Perhaps everything is turning out for the best,” said Mother brightly. “But your father will be sorry to have missed you.”
“I think you’ve mentioned that before,” I said dryly.
“Rhenn . . . I know you two do not see the world in the same way, but that does not mean that he doesn’t care for you.”
“I know.” I still had the feeling he’d care for me more had I chosen to become a wool factor, but I wasn’t about to say that. I turned to Khethila. “What are you going to do now?”
“I’m learning to be an assistant clerk for Father, the one who makes all the daily ledger entries.”
There was a hint of a frown from Mother. “Until she finds a proper young man, anyway.”
“What happened to Armynd?”
Khethila laughed. “He discovered I was reading Madame D’Shendael. He didn’t put it quite that way, but when he said that it was clear we had interests too different for harmony, that was what he meant.”
Mother frowned, if briefly, and I knew she’d hoped for the match, as much for Khethila’s comfort as anything.
I managed a pleasant smile, although what had already happened confirmed that anyone Khethila felt interested in would not be someone for whom my parents would care much. “Do you find working at the factorage interesting?”
“You just have to be careful and thorough,” my sister replied. “What’s interesting is the way in which certain number patterns show up in the accounts. I’m studying Astrarth’s Theory of Numbers on my own, and seeing if any of what he postulates shows up.”
“Has it?”
“Not yet, but I’ve only been working on the ledgers for the last two weeks. Rousel thinks it’s a good idea that I know more about business.”
“So does your Father,” added Mother.
“How are things going with Rousel?” I asked quickly.
“He and Remaya are doing well.” Mother smiled briefly. “He writes occasionally.”
Khethila shifted her weight in her chair, ever so slightly.
“And how is the wool factoring going in Kherseilles?” I looked to Khethila.
“I couldn’t say, because so far I’m only doing the ledgers for the factorage here, and not the master ledger that merges both accounts.”
Mother looked sharply at Khethila, who smiled pleasantly.
In short, matters weren’t going quite so well in Kherseilles, but Khethila wasn’t about to say or was guessing from what she’d seen so far, and Mother wasn’t about to say anything negative about Rousel . . . or allow anyone else to.
“Do you know what you’ll be doing as an imager?” Mother asked. “Can you tell us?”
“They say I may have some duties working for the Council, but very minor ones at first. No one’s given me any details, but I have had to learn all the Council procedures.”
“Your father would be very pleased if you became a Council advisor.”
“That’s not going to happen any time soon,” I replied with a laugh. “How is Aunt Ilena?”
“As stubborn as ever. I’m thinking of visiting her in Juyn, on the way to Kherseilles . . .”
From that point on, I just asked questions and listened. Although I stayed almost to the fourth glass of the afternoon, neither Father nor Culthyn appeared, and I took my leave. The late afternoon remained pleasant, and while it was more than two milles, I walked the entire distance to the Guild Square, taking my time.
Because I didn’t see anyone I knew around the square, I made my way to Lapinina. When I stepped into the bistro, the couple at the table nearest the door looked away. Rogaris and Sagaryn sat at a round table for four, and I stepped toward it.
“How are you two coming?”
Sagaryn’s eyes widened as they took in the gray waistcoat, shirt, and trousers. “Is that you, Rhenn?”
“The same.”
“You’re . . . an imager?”
I nodded. “Might I join you?”
“Oh . . . yes . . .” Rogaris said hastily.
Sagaryn nodded, a trace reluctantly, but I eased into the seat across from them.
Staela appeared. “What would you like, sir?”
I looked up at her. “I’m still Rhenn, Staela.”
Her expression didn’t change at all. “Yes, sir.”
“Just a glass of the Cambrisio white, if you have it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We don’t see imagers up here very often,” Rogaris offered.
“You’re the first,” added Sagaryn, taking a swallow of dark beer.
“I’m probably the only portraiturist who’s ended up an imager.”
“That well could be.”
“How are you two doing?”
Rogaris glanced at Sagaryn, who remained stone-faced. “The same as always.”
“Have you heard anything about Madame Caliostrus?”
“She’s all right. He had some sort of assurance annuity or something . . . some patron paid for it, and the masons’ guild is rebuilding the place.”
“Lucky at that,” added Sagaryn. “You know anything about it?”
“No.” I shook my head. “He never talked coins with me-except to explain why he’d docked my pay”
Staela reappeared with a glass of amber-white wine, which she placed before me with far greater care than she ever had when I’d been a journeyman. “Your Cambrisio, sir. It’s four.”
Almost as soon as I’d put a silver on the table she scooped it up and had six coppers back before me. Then she was gone. I took a sip of the wine. It was cool, and not that bad, but I realized that what I’d been drinking at dinner at the dining hall was just as good.
“How is Master Jacquerl treating you?” I asked Rogaris.
“Nothing’s changed.” He sipped the dark red wine.
“And you?” I turned to Sagaryn.
“The same as always.”
Neither spoke for a time. Nor did I. Then I looked to Rogaris. “How is Aemalye?”
“She’s fine.”
“Are you still planning to get married a year from this Agostos?”
“Something like that.”
After a few more questions, I smiled and stood, leaving most of the Cambrisio. “It was good to see you both. Take care of yourselves.”
“You, too,” replied Rogaris.
Sagaryn only nodded.
It was just past the fifth glass as I stepped out of Lapinina, wondering why I had come at all, when a voice called from behind me.
“Rhenn!”