He looked a little disappointed that he was not being let in on her supposed official business, but he nodded amiably enough, filling a couple of shallow cups from the pot, and then let a little wrapped package steep in each of them. ‘I cannot say whether Prince Felipe is in residence at the moment. He has been in and out, as we say, in the last month or so, visiting his fealtors to the west mostly. However, let us sup, and then we can present ourselves – and at least let the castle staff know that a dignitary from Collegium is here.’

The drink tasted mostly like some sort of soup, surprisingly rich and savoury. ‘Kadith,’ Galltree explained. ‘Very popular with the nobility. Each breeds his own, you see, with different herbs and grasses. It’s quite a commodity for barter between provinces.’ Seeing her frown he hooked out his little bundle. ‘The larvae build their little homes from what plants are given them, you see, so the flavour varies from pond to pond.’

‘Oh, caddis,’ she declared, as sudden understanding came to her. The strangeness of it was lost in the fact that the drink was so good. She had the errant thought, We should import this to Collegium, before she reminded herself that she was not going back there.

They passed amongst the dispersed buildings of Suon Ren, the locals breezing past, but ignoring her, and barely acknowledging Galltree himself. Tynisa had a sense of their contentment, everything around them part of a grand and changeless pattern that had endured for centuries – a pattern she had yet to earn a place in. An echo of Salma glittered and danced amongst them, teasing her memory for once without drawing blood. The Commonwealers walked, meditated or wrote, practised their archery or took off into the sky on shimmering wings. There was precious little talk at all between them, as though everything worth saying had already been thoroughly discussed by their grandparents’ parents. Aside from a single man hammering away at a forge on the edge of town, the loudest thing in Suon Ren was the younger children, who chased about between the buildings in some game that involved tagging one another and then running away. Tynisa smiled to watch them, until she heard one child cry out, while tagging another, ‘You’re the Wasp! You’re the Wasp!’