The reception clerk let me back into the Valdrake room, then took his key away with him.
It was a suite in the sense that there was more than one room. The first held chairs for people waiting to see me. The second held better chairs for people I had agreed to see. A narrow door beside the fireplace led to a cupboard full of spare cushions.
I shut the cupboard. The deputy registrar had said the assignment desk opened in the evening. Until then I had a room in which I could receive an ambassador, provided the ambassador didn't want to sit beside a bed.
My satchel went on the chair nearest me. I checked that the case claim stub was still inside my wallet and left the wallet in my coat. Across the court, porters were carrying trunks toward the residence passage. Mine could stay where it was until I knew where to send it.
Someone knocked.
"Yes?"
The young man who came in was holding a tray so steadily that I noticed his face only after the cups. There were two of them, a pot and a folded cloth. The tray's handle had been repaired with a small plate of metal. He kept one thumb over the edge of the repair while setting it down.
"Ren Lockwood, young master. I've been assigned to your service."
He bowed after letting go of the tray. I had been expecting him to do both at once and was relieved on behalf of the carpet.
"For the afternoon?"
"For your academy household, if approved." He brought a paper from his pocket. "Today I'm on arrivals."
He laid the paper beside the tray, then shifted it farther from the pot. I read the heading. Hours, duties, service charges. The rate had been printed; the spaces for my instructions were blank.
"You need this back?"
"The service desk does."
"And they pay you?"
"Against the house account, young master." He indicated the printed rate without quite touching it. "Those are the ordinary charges."
He seemed prepared to explain them. I wasn't sure whether that meant he expected me to dispute the price or simply couldn't tell if I understood the form.
"What did they tell you I'd need?"
"Morning tea, your room put in order, evening service. Messages within the academy. Other duties as agreed."
"How early?"
He said half past five with the air of somebody offering a reasonable hour. I looked at the paper again. The morning block ran until eight. The evening block was five until seven.
"Every day?"
"From tomorrow. For today, I'm assigned until four."
I checked the small clock on the mantel. There was still most of an hour left.
"All right. Those hours."
Ren's shoulders moved a little. He reached for the pot, and a low humming sound stopped as soon as I looked up.
"Was there something else?" I asked.
"No, young master."
He poured tea into the cup nearest me. I waited for him to pick up the second one, but he left it empty.
"Will Lady Valeria be joining you?"
"No."
"Shall I have a message taken over?"
I put the service form down. "Not this afternoon."
His hand remained near the pot. "To say you've arrived?"
"She saw me at the ceremony. I told her she could have the afternoon without being fetched."
"Very good."
He moved the empty cup back toward the center of the tray. The easy answer bothered me. At the estate I had needed three attempts to say what she was actually asking for.
"No message saying I'm waiting either. Or that I'd like to see her when she's free."
Ren looked at me, then lowered his eyes to the tray.
"No summons or message from you to Lady Valeria this afternoon."
"Yes. Tell anyone carrying messages for me."
"Until this evening?"
"The promise was for the afternoon." I rubbed my thumb along the paper's edge. "But I have nothing for her tonight. Don't arrange anything."
He acknowledged that separately. Then he asked whether there were expected visitors whose names he should leave at the reception counter.
I couldn't think of anybody I wanted to expect.
"None. If someone comes, ask their name and what they want before bringing them in."
"And wait for your answer?"
"Please."
That word made him look up again. I reached for the tea before it could become a subject. The full cup was heavier than I wanted. I lowered it after a small sip, holding it with my left hand and keeping my right clear of the handle.
Ren watched the cup settle.
"Less next time?"
"Half is enough."
He took the cloth from the tray and wiped a drop I had left near the saucer. There was a snag in his cuff. He turned his wrist to keep it away from the wet patch, a practiced little adjustment, then returned to his place beside the door.
I glanced at the approval line. "Does this mean you wait there until four?"
"If you have no other duties for me."
I had several. None that I wanted to explain to a stranger who had just heard the name Valdrake called in that hall. I considered asking him which way the public reading room lay, then remembered how tired I was.
"You could take this back to the desk." I reached for my satchel. "Let me get a pen."
While I opened the inner pocket, Ren checked the clock. It was quick, but I had been doing the same thing for most of the journey.
"Somewhere to be?"
"After duty."
"At four?"
"Before half past."
He stopped there. I found the pen and the stopped ink bottle, set them on the table and waited for him to say the rest. He began straightening a corner of the cloth instead.
"I only meant I won't keep you after four."
"Thank you, young master. It's the remittance counter. It closes at half past."
"Money home?"
"For my sister. Lina."
The name came quickly, as though he had thought I might already know it. Then his expression changed and he reached into his pocket.
"I have the previous receipt, if the desk requires—"
"It doesn't. I was asking."
He had unfolded it far enough for me to see a stamped payment and the words balance outstanding beneath it. The creases had been rubbed almost white. He folded the paper again, more slowly, and put it away.
"She's younger than you?"
"Yes."
My pen had left a dot above the line. I moved it down and approved the printed rate and the two blocks of hours. Ren leaned close enough to read what I had written, then stopped himself.
I turned the form toward him.
"Check it."
He checked. At the bottom he pointed out the blank for the first regular day, and I put tomorrow's date there. Today's arrivals duty remained on its own line, ending at four.
"And where should I come in the morning?"
"I haven't got the room yet."
"The service desk can take the number from residences." He hesitated. "If you approve it."
I did. That, at least, seemed an arrangement which could work without anyone standing outside a door all night.
Ren blotted the page and carried it to the counter. Through the open door I heard him repeat that there were no messages to be sent to Lady Valeria, and that visitors were to be announced before being admitted. The clerk asked something about the evening. Ren came back to the doorway to check.
"Nothing for her tonight," I said.
He passed that on too.
By the time he returned with the service desk's acknowledgment, the clock was almost at four. He gathered the unused cup and placed it on the repaired side of the tray. I had finished only half my tea. He left it where it was after I shook my head.
"That's all," I said. "You can go."
"Tomorrow at half past five."
"Yes."
He lifted the tray, made certain the repaired handle had taken the weight, and went. At the counter he slowed to let a porter pass, then resumed his pace toward the remittance office.
I watched until the arch hid him. My boots were still damp along the seams. I loosened them with my left hand and set my feet flat on the rug, leaving the soft gloves on. The linen beneath the right one had begun to slip again, but it could wait until I had a door I could close.
For the first time since the terrace, nobody seemed to need me anywhere. I leaned back before that could change.