His father was very pleased with whatever the Masteritsa said. So much so that he didn't scowl and glare when Nikolas fumbled the numbers and struggled over his letters, but he did glance up from his books when Nikolas recited the wrong passage. Nikolas glanced up from his book nervously, wishing he could just toss the book into the merrily crackling flames of the fireplace. It was the only warm thing in his father's study, the man was of the belief that the cold helps with thinking.

"Shouldn't you know that one?" his father said, irate, "your mother was in the war with the Lasovians. They surrendered after sixty two days, not sixty one."

"Sorry," Nikolas apologized, reflexively, and stared at the swirling letters on the page. He didn't bother to decipher what precisely was on there. He'd learned that the best thing to do was to listen in to Brytha's lessons and memorize what she'd read outloud to their father instead of mumbling his own way through it and getting cuffed for his own trouble. Brytha was the clever one in the family, not him, the one that knew all the letters and words and nice things to say. No doubt his eldest sister was curtseying and smiling to the Masteritsa in the tea room downstairs right now.

"Where were you, anyway?" his father queried, eyebrows set in an angry frown, "You weren't messing about with Felie and Ada were you? You know you are supposed to set an example for them, not lead them astray."

"I was…" Nikolas began, staring at the plush carpets and tapping the wood of the chair he sat on. He decided he should at least say a half-truth, "I was with the Masteritsa's son."

"Son?" his father frowned harder, leaning forward, "She didn't say anything about a son!"

"Jozin!" Nikolas insisted, sitting upright, and meeting his father's stormy eyes, "he said his name was Jozin. And he came with her as well, and we were—"

"Ah," his father sat back down, crossing his legs, "probably the best to travel with a son. You never know what the witches would demand if you travel with a daughter."

That was wrong, and Nikolas spoke up before he could stop himself, "But the witches haven't been seen since the Tsaritsa drove them out!" He immediately clapped a hand onto his mouth, face red. It was not in one of Brytha's lessons, but a hushed conversation between his mother and father.

To his surprise his father chuckled, "If you want to listen at doors, Nikolas, you should know when to speak what you know and when you shouldn't." He sighed deeply, "The Tsaritsa wishes to employ the use of academies for girls now and the witches aren't happy about it."

"Mother studied in an academy."

"An Imperial Academy taught by witches," his father nodded, "but the witches aren't fond of it anymore. So they've raised a stink over the whole thing and they're now taken to searching for potential talent on the road." His right hand tapped the ring on his left, "Hm. In that case, keep your friendship with the Masteritsa's daughter. Call her whatever she likes. It is always good to—" here he paused and glanced meaningfully at Nikolas.

"Foster connections and potential trade partners," Nikolas recited dutifully.

"Well, at least no one will fault you for having a bad memory," his father said, and waving a hand dismissively, "go, Nikolas, and tell Felie and Ada to stop harassing the cooks."

Nikolas let out a breath, and hastily made his escape from the study, but not before he bowed respectfully at the door. The last thing he needed was a reprimand of why one should respect one's elders.

As expected, when he descended the staircase he heard the sounds of Brytha chatting happily away with the Masteritsa.

"Your father spoke very highly of you, Brytha."

The Masteritsa had a soft, lilting voice, and Nikolas half-expected her to break into song, the kind of songs that could change the weather.

"Thank you, Masteritsa! But I'm only good with numbers and things, not magic! I think that's more Diasa, and maybe Felie, but she's too young for us to tell."

"Everyone can do some magic," said the Masteritsa. "You just have a touch of it for numbers, Brytha."

"Oh," here Nikolas imagined Brytha was flushing and holding a hand to her mouth, "oh, I wouldn't say that is magic. It is just doing numbers! What about you Jozina? What are you good at?"

"Uh," a pause, scuffling, and Jozin, no Jozina spoke up, "I'm good at the bow, I guess. I can play a little."

"Oh, play for us!"

"I… don't want to. Sorry. I don't…"

"Not to worry! I apologize! I was only suggesting! You know I can't play much as well! I think my sister Viola plays more than I do!"

"You have many siblings."

"Yes!"

"I like Nikolas," said Jozina, "I met him a while ago. Is he still in the study with the Gosudar Aldeim?"

"I'll fetch him for you!" there was a scraping of the chair as Brytha hurriedly stood up. "Please excuse me, Masteritsa, Jozina."

Nikolas barely had the time to pretend to descend the stairs before the door flew open and Brytha hurriedly stepped out, her braids bouncing. She stopped at the foot of the stairs, hands on her hips, "Were you eavesdropping?" she hissed.

"I was?"

"Hmph!" she sniffed. "It doesn't matter. Go play nice with Jozina. She likes you, and maybe if her mother likes you enough then you can marry her and be off in Skapina. I'm sure you'll love the bears or whatever they've got running around there."

"Shouldn't Richan be the first to get married?"

"Richan isn't getting married to a Masteritsa in distant lands, Nikolas, he's supposed to be getting married to whichever lady wants his hand in the palace!"

Nikolas decided not to take the bait, and made to open the door and enter the tea room before she could. It was more richly decorated than the last time he'd stepped foot in it, his father must have asked one of the maids to air the room and scent it with flower water. The Masteritsa and her daughter were seated on plush chairs next to the fire, and she was sipping from an ivory tea cup. He bowed to the Masteritsa, who gave him a nod and motioned for him to take a seat next to Jozina. The latter gave him a forced smile, the kind that said Jozina didn't want to be there. Nikolas waited until Brytha started another conversation with the Masteritsa before turning and whispering to Jozina.

"I thought you told me your name was Jozin."

"It is!" Jozin insisted, "it is just," he dangled his legs on the chair, " easier for my mother to say I'm a girl!"

It was one of those times that Nikolas wished he had Guigo's wits. Guigo was like his twin Diasa and just had a knack of understanding people and magic and how to make sense of all of it.

"... why?" he said, completely baffled.

"You're not playing stupid?"

"No?"

Jozin narrowed his eyes, and Nikolas felt like a breeze was swirling around the room even though the windows were closed. "I suppose you're not. I'll explain later. It's… it must be a Skapina thing."

"Like white bears?"

"... like white bears," Jozin agreed, and gave Nikolas a genuine smile.