The tension was obvious by the second day.
I noticed it at breakfast, when Vanessa set a plate before Alia with more force than was strictly necessary. I noticed it again in the corridor, when they passed one another and neither spoke. By the time I found them in the kitchen, the air between them was thick enough to be felt, as though it might be parted by hand.
"You will need to learn the proper way to fold linens," Vanessa was saying, her voice polite, her eyes cold. "The Valeric household has its standards. I am quite certain your previous employment did not."
Alia's jaw tightened. She kept her head bowed, her hands busy with the cloth in her lap. "I'll learn."
"One hopes so. Provincial manners are not easily unlearned."
I stepped into the room before Alia could respond. Vanessa saw me first and straightened at once, her expression smoothing into careful neutrality. Alia looked up, relief and shame mingling in her eyes.
"Vanessa," I said. "A word."
