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have heard of him?’ Isak asked.
    ‘No, my Lord,’ she said with a worried expression. Isak forced a smile at her; he’d snapped because he was tired. Tila looked a little uncertain, but she returned it; Isak had always been able to elicit a mile from people, even his father sometimes, despite his unwillingness to like anything about his son. Carel said it was part of being a white-eye: after all, men had been willing to rush to their deaths at Lord Atro’s command; Lord Bahl was considered withdrawn, practically a hermit, yet his presence was enough to command complete attention and obedience. Carel had told him that every white-eye he’d ever met, no matter how brutal, possessed some remarkable redeeming quality.
    Isak was pretty sure he could start to put people at ease by making them laugh, so Tila’s hesitant smile gave him hope. The last thing he wanted was a maid who hated white-eyes.
    ‘It’s traditional for the palace maids to come from the noble families,’ Tila began hesitantly. ‘Lord Atro initiated it as a hostage system so he could keep control of the nobility, but the tradition has continued. The rest of the palace has proper servants; we’re only here in the main wing. Sometimes it feels more like a finishing school. Readying us for being married off.’ She looked down at the bed. ‘I’m sorry, my Lord. I’ve been chattering away; I’ll finish here and get out of your way. We were all instructed to keep from wasting your time-‘
    ‘You aren’t in my way,’ he replied quickly, ‘and as for wasting my time, you probably have far more idea than I do about what I’m meant to do with it. I know what a Krann is, but not what will be expected of me. Can you tell me anything?’
    ‘No, my Lord, I’m sorry.’ The girl shook her head. ‘I was just woken to make your room ready; we weren’t even told to expect you. I’m sorry it’s dusty and bare in here, but Lord Bahl is the only one who can bring us up and he’s been in the forest for weeks. There is a library, on the second floor; I could try to find you some lore books, I suppose.
    The Chief Steward will know but… well you don’t want him to think you’re in his pocket. The only other person is Lord Bahl; he was once Krann, but I wouldn’t dare ask him.’

    Why not - does he beat the servants?’ Isak asked, on more familiar ground now.
    ‘No my lord,’ Tila replied quickly, ‘Lord Bahl is good to us; he doesn’t even notice us most of the time, which suits me fine. But you do hear stories-‘
    ‘What sort of stories?’ he said, annoyed at his own ignorance - even the maids knew more than he did.
    ‘Well-‘ she sounded a little dubious, as if unsure of how much she should say. Spreading gossip was dangerous, but if the new Krann was going to survive in the palace, he had to know.
    She took a breath and started, ‘Stories about what he did to the last lord, to Lord Atro. I suppose it’s romantic, to avenge the death of one’s lover, but-‘
    ‘But?’
    She looked disinclined to go further, wondering if she should even have started this conversation.
    ‘What sort of stories?’ Isak pressed her. ‘What happened? When?’ Herman had banned all talk of white-eyes around Isak; though tales of blood and violence were a staple diet at the fireside, Isak had never been welcome. All this was completely new to him.
    ‘Surely you must know?’ she started, but as she saw him stiffen, she quickly continued, ‘They say that three entire streets were destroyed in the battle. It ended in Cornerstone Market and bits were found as far away as Myrenn Avenue. Atro was hacked apart, and they say that when they tried to gather all the pieces together to bury them, half of them were burnt.’
    ‘Is Myrenn Avenue far from the market?’
    Tila gaped. ‘Far? It’s more than two hundred paces! Two hundred paces - for pieces to fly through the air!’
    ‘Oh that’s easy, I can do that.’
    A look of panic flashed over her face, but Isak