"How long does that usually take to wear off?" she wonders.

"Depends. A few days, most of the time."

"Thanks, I guess."

"You guess?"

"I guess that's something it makes sense to say? I'm not really..." He rubs his face with both hands. "I'm gonna go to sleep," he says, and heads for his room.

Berete is doing the very last of the post-dinner kitchen-tidying. There is a platter of steamed buns, decorated according to her usual convention to indicate their various fillings, in one of the spots where she usually leaves things for people to grab as they're passing through.

Aya collects three. "Hello, Berete," she says.

"Hello, Aya. How are you doing?"

"I'm all right. Settled in, pretty much."

"Good. So what did Hal decide to do with you?"

"He pretty much leaves me be. He lets me read his books," Aya adds.

"That does sound like Hal."

"I'm probably going to organize his attic at some point. He didn't ask me to, but it seems worth doing."

"It is a bit of a disaster up there, isn't it? I've had three different girls refuse to clean it. Two of them said they heard strange noises when they opened the door; the third one just said she didn't want to trip over something expensive."

"Strange noises? Like - what, something's nesting in it?"

"One said ghosts, the other said singing. Eventually they agreed it was singing ghosts."

"Singing ghosts. Well, I'll keep an ear out, I suppose, for any surprises hiding in the attic."

"If you hear any ghosts, let me know."

"I take it you've not heard them yourself."

"I haven't!"

"Huh." Aya shrugs, bites one of her steamed buns thoughtfully, then remarks, "Your - unwarning - about him has proven good so far, but I find myself wondering how you knew to make it." Maybe he's confided to Berete that he prefers men? Maybe there have been others like her, spirited away to this or that other destination for this or that reason? Maybe he just demonstrates enough general concern for the welfare of slaves; Aya would buy that.

"...Hal is... a strange one," she says contemplatively. "Maybe because Duke Halzane asks so much of him, I don't know. But whenever he doesn't have to act the ducal heir, he does the oddest things in the oddest ways. He'll come down and cook with me, or get one of the girls to teach him how to sew or braid cord or weave baskets or wipe floors. He cleans his own rooms - not on much of a schedule, mind you, but often enough. When the Duke wanted to get him a personal servant, Hal told me he didn't want some poor soul to get beaten when he ruins his clothes, and I managed to persuade the Duke it would be a waste of money since he doesn't write letters and he looks after himself."

"Yes, I imagine it would be - difficult if my official job description amounted to anything more than 'exist thereabouts'. I have no idea how I'd have rescued that shirt."