What do you want, Thorn? I am busy training the latest group of novices in the ways of the Order. They are lazy and obdurate; they require constant attention and chastisement. Do you not remember the rule? I contact you; you do not contact me.

Mother, I thought that you ought to know that Loras Afelnor is not dead, as I had formerly assumed. He has sent his grandson to me, requesting that he be taken into the House as a charity Student. The Lord Dominie might find it strange, were I to refuse such a request from a former Guild Mage, even from a convicted renegade such as Loras. The chances of such a boy possessing significant levels of Thaumaturgic power would be far higher than for the son of a Secular.

I could plead a lack of places at the Scholasticate, but High Lodge well knows that I am campaigning vigorously in an attempt to attract more charity Students.

Thorn could have sworn that a disdainful snort sounded in his brain.

What is the problem, Thorn? Why do you need to bother me with your wheedling? It is your Guild House, not mine.

The Prelate sighed. This might be harder than he had thought. What if the child knows the truth about what was done to Loras, Mother?

Ha! Even the mighty Loras Afelnor has no idea of what motivated him to attempt to throttle that senile old fool, Geral. My spell was subtle, as well as powerful; Loras believes he acted as he did on his own volition. Do you truly believe he would send his brat to you for education if he had even the merest suspicion of the spell I cast on him?

The child will never find out the truth unless you are foolish enough to tell him; do you understand?

I understand, Mother, but it still makes me nervous, admitted Thorn.

So the mighty Thorn Virias, Mage Questor of the Seventh Rank is scared of an infant! came back Lizaveta's hissing stream of mental words.