Master Kane arrived and let us into the room. It was a small room, with two wooden pews, a single chair, and a circular table. Master Kane took the chair, as he needed the support for his back. His white hair seemed particularly thin, though it was probably just the sideways morning light filtering in through the window. Timoth and I sat on the foremost pew, and he explained that I had asked him to be present for encouragement.

'You are always welcome, Count,' Master Kane said in his slow, deliberate style of speaking. He turned to me. 'Saemara, my lady, have you been practising the techniques I taught you?'

I nodded. 'I've been closing my eyes and listening to everything around me, trying to take it all in. I try to remember that the portal realm already exists, I just need to realise that it's there and will it into reality.' It seemed like I was racing to spit out my words compared to Master Kane. Still, he comprehended them, and shook his head in response.

'No,' he began. 'Do not close your eyes. You must do with your eyes what you do with your ears. Be aware of everything around you, everything you touch, hear, smell, and see. It is much more difficult to summon a portal when you cannot see what is in front of you. '

'Yes, Master Kane,' I said. I didn't like to be wrong.

'If I may, Master,' Timoth interjected. 'Portalmancy is, at least to me, somewhat like reading and writing. The common folk may struggle to write their own name, or read a contract before they sign it, but the words are there to see for any with the talent to discern their meaning. It is much the same with the portal realm. Don't try too hard, or overfocus. Just let the portal take its own shape.'

I nodded. 'Shall I try now?'

'If you would, my lady,' Master Kane said.

I took a deep breath, but was acutely aware of Timoth's presence mere inches to my side. I asked him to sit further down the pew, and he acquiesced. Once he was still I took a deep breath and tried not to focus on any one thing. I heard the beach waves, the squawks of the gulls. I felt the clothes, unmoving as they were, pressed against my skin. I smelled, albeit faintly, Timoth's body odour, and the scent of salt water in the air.

'No. Open your eyes,' Master Kane said. I had not even been aware that I'd closed them. It was much easier to focus on my other senses when I shut off the one I relied upon the most, but I was determined to succeed so I obeyed.

I studied the cracks in the stone wall, the cruciform window, the Master's thin white linen shirt. I took it all in, and then I began to grope mentally into other realms. I reached out for something more than the stone wall, more than the gulls, more than the salt water. I tried to grasp the portal realm and will it into existence.

I stayed at it for several minutes, until Master Kane interrupted. 'Sadly, I cannot read your mind, Countess. Of what do you think when you try to summon your portal?'

'I think like you told me,' I said. 'I try to collect all my thoughts of the things around me and look deeper. Like being conscious of every blade of grass, but understanding that dirt lies beneath it, and being able to grab a fistful of it at will.'

'I sense that you try too consciously,' Timoth said unhelpfully. 'Were the analogy truer, the dirt would rise of its own accord, because that is what it would do were the grass not holding it down. You must be aware of every blade of grass so that you might uproot the patch that is the key to the dirt's freedom.'

I still didn't really understand his meaning, but I sensed that I was expected to try again. I scanned the stones once more, listened to the waves. Bearing in mind Timoth's words, in lieu of blindly groping with my mind, I sought to pluck the molecules before me aside to make room for the portal to emerge on its own, willing it into existence.

Still, I had no luck.

'If only I could know your mind's thoughts, I could guide you,' Master Kane bemoaned, and Timoth nodded his agreement. 'Bear in mind the wise words of Count Timoth and perhaps when we meet again, in a few days, you will find that you have made progress.'

Progress. I almost spat to signify my distaste for the word. It was completely inapplicable to portalmancy. One could either summon portals, or one could not. Perhaps once that rudimentary stage had been surpassed there could be progress in growing one's portal realm, but for me there was only the yes or no question. The one that was always answered with failure.

The lesson came to an end, finally. Timoth told me that Father wanted to see me, and I gulped. I wondered if it would have anything to do with the conversation I'd overheard the previous night. He had stood strong in my defence, but Mother tended to have her way in the long term, even though I scarcely ever heard her win an argument.

A guard indicated that I might find Father in the throne room. Well, that was its name, but Haelling Cove Keep was not exactly Hollowhold Palace. The Count's throne had been chiseled from stone in centuries past, but aside from that link to yesteryear the room was unimpressive. A small wooden dais upon which the throne was set separated the royalty and their guard from those who came to hear the Count's justice. That was what I found Father doing when I entered the room. The aquamarine-capped circlet delineating his authority shaped his bald head, bringing his scarred cheekbones and stubbly chin into prominence. He had just ruled on one issue and so my entrance was timely. White law-giving linens adorned his body, mixed with silk in the modern fashion. He called me to his side and I obliged him.

'You wished to see me, Father?' I asked him.

'Ah, Saemara. You are already becoming a woman,' he said. I wondered what had crossed his mind to possess him to say it. Perhaps it bode poorly for me.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

'Not yet,' I reminded him, fearful that he had a tedious adult task in mind for me.

'Your mother feels that you are ill prepared for the responsibility of leadership. Though it is unlikely that the burden of this throne will fall upon your shoulders, I agree with your mother that you must be prepared for the eventuality nonetheless. Do you understand?'

'Yes,' I said. He hadn't asked me if I agreed.

'I bid you sit beside me as I rule on these matters. Perhaps you will gain a better understanding of what it means to have people trust their fate to your judgement.'

'Yes, Father.' It sounded boring, but after yet another failed portalmancy lesson I had little hope that anything good would occur that day.

I took a seat in the ornate wooden chair beside him that was usually reserved for the ruling Countess, my mother, and a pair of middle-aged gentlemen approached the foot of the dais. They were clad in decent linen, indicating that they had some wealth despite their lowly lineage.

'Gentlemen,' Father said. 'What is the issue?'

The two men jostled for position beside each other until both realised that they did not wish to be the first one to speak. I sometimes forgot how cowed common folk could be by titles. Eventually, one shot a deadly glance at the other and he stepped forward to make his complaint.

'My name is Tgwain, and I bought a fishing boat from this man for three golds,' he said. He enunciated his words carefully, as if attempting to disguise his ignoble accent. 'I took hert out for the first time, and she sinks! Sank straight into the Haelling, your lordship. She was holed when I bought her. I had my grandson on board, he has no swimming skills. If it hadn't been for a passing fisherman he would have drowned! And the fisherman charged me two coppers for returning us to shore. I would like to be three golds and two coppers for my loss, plus hardship, your lordship.'

An interesting tale to be sure, but I’d absorbed enough lessons to know that there were two sides to any story. The other man had opened his mouth to speak at several points during Tgwain's recounting of his version of events, but had wisely thought better of it. Father motioned to him to begin his defence, and he burst into speech.

'Your lordship,' he began. I wished they would just call him by his proper title. ‘She wasn’t holed when I sold her. She was a good boat, but I'm too old now to continue my work. I sold her so I could retire, not to cheat Tgwain. The leak must have occurred when he took her from where I sold her to where he cast her into the river.'

'The boat was not moored?' Father asked. Tgwain stepped forward to respond.

'No, your lordship. I had hired a wagon for the occasion. 'twas only a small boat, and a single pony pulled her to the Haelling. She was strapped to the wagon with strong ropes, I don't see how it could have become holed during the journey.'

Father turned to me. 'What do you think?'

I had not realised that this was going to be an interactive lesson, and I was jolted out of my only semi-attentive daze. I did not think that I was being asked to make a binding sentence for the two men, but Father clearly expected an answer.

'Tgwain is owed one gold six silver,' I hazarded.

'Split the cost of the boat between them, you say?' Father asked me, and I nodded. It seemed fairest, as it was difficult to determine fault without more evidence. 'What about the two coppers?'

'Tgwain's grandson should learn to swim,' I said uncaringly. 'Or perhaps he should have tested the boat before taking the child so far from shore.'

Father stroked his chin, feeling the gristle under his finger and thumb. 'You are half-right, my daughter, but not the better half. Tgwain should indeed have showed more caution for his grandson. Yet splitting the cost of the boat does not resolve the issue. If the seller knew the boat was holed then he still makes a tidy profit on a worthless item. If the purchaser holed the boat through careless travel then he impoverishes an innocent man.'

'Well, which is it?' I asked him. Obviously he was right in an ideal world, but the boat lay at the bottom of the Haelling. There was no way to know when the boat had incurred its fatal damage.

'The latter. Tgwain's carelessness is inconsistent with his experience. No doubt the boat fell from the wagon, or some other accident occurred, and instead of fixing it he saw the opportunity to get his gold back by risking his grandson's life.' Father's blue eyes – a trait that I shared – darted around my face as he spoke, examining my reaction to his words. It made sense, I guess. I don't know why I didn't see it before. Perhaps Mother was right about me.

'Is that your ruling, your lordship?' Tgwain probed tentatively.

'It is. Scribes, please record Tgwain's debt,' Father responded. Two scribes sat against wooden desks at the side of the dais, armed with quills and pots of ink. They scrawled the names and sentence for the county records. Once they were set to the task, Father turned to me and spoke softly. 'Worry not, Saemara. This is a difficult task. When placed in that chair at your age, Kaeya would make no decision at all. She insisted that there was not enough information.'

I smiled at that. 'There wasn't enough, but there still needed to be a decision. Even if it was the wrong one. The common folk must be ruled.'

Father returned my smile. 'Timoth was right. Academics aside, you have a good handle on ruling. My greater fear is that your disdain for the “common folk” will undo anything good that you accomplish.'

'I do not disdain them,' I responded carefully. This was not the first time that I had been accused of harbouring such an attitude. 'I simply share little in common with them.'

'I hope that you speak the truth,' Father replied cryptically. He turned to the next complainants.

I heard half a dozen more cases before lunchtime, which was signalled by the arrival of a host of servants carrying trays of food to Father and I even as we sat in our thrones. Those who had come to make themselves heard before the Count were left waiting outside while we ate, however a single messenger was permitted entrance.

A messenger bearing the news of Count Djiron's arrival.

'So soon?' I asked.

Father raised an eyebrow. 'I knew not that word of Count Djiron's visit had become public knowledge.' I sensed that he knew of my girlish interest in him and was unable to conceal a blush. 'It is hard to keep a secret in a castle. May I infer that you wish to be introduced?'

I nodded my assent. 'I haven't met anyone my age before. Anyone noble, I mean.'

'I hope to find you a better husband yet,' Father said. 'If Count Djiron is anything like his Father, then he is an honest man and a valiant warrior. However, he is still a Count, and he still hails from the Borderlands. Their customs are not like ours, and they still retain much of their old traditions.'

I nodded again. Father was wise; that was why he ruled Ebonreach. He had always treated me fairly, just as he treated every complainant and every defendant fairly when they stood before his throne.

'Shall we go meet him?' I asked.

Father wiped his chin with a serviette and foisted his tray onto a waiting servant girl. 'We shall,' he said, and stood. He led me out of the throne room through a passageway behind the dais, and soon we were in the castle courtyard spectating Count Djiron's arrival.