I've got about a hundred things to do, and only about three years to do them. I want to make sure everything is perfect by the time I'm officially an adult.

  Well, an adult by Hearstwhile standards. I'm still skeeved out by it, but that's because I was raised in a culture that treats people like they're toddlers right up until the minute they turn eighteen. I can understand, intellectually, that this is a minority position and that most of the world does not do that, nor for most of history, and that eighteen is actually a weirdly high number by the standards of most of humanity's history...but knowing something intellectually does not mean the same thing as being emotionally prepared. It's all just so damn weird! Right now Yheta is about to turn sixteen, which to me feels like he's a child. But legally here he's an adult, and his weird obsession with me is skeevy because he's an adult crushing on a kid. And not a child crushing on a younger, more childlike child. And not, you know, like he's a sixteen-year-old kid crushing on someone twice his age, because that's me, mentally! Putting my years together, I'm supposed to be exponentially more mature than him!

  And, well, I sure do feel more mature than him. But only in the ways that I'm annoyed and embarrassed by him.

  Anyway, stuff to do! Tasks to accomplish! Tangential thinking to avoid! Regrets to forget! Depression to repress!

  I'm up before the sun again, getting showered and dressed up, because Baroness Grancine is coming by again. Gedes shows her in just a few minutes after the agreed-upon time, and she is still dressed for her all-night after-parties and wired up on whatever kind of fantasy cocaine they serve at those parties.

  "Lady Natalie! Oh, you poor doll!"

  Fair. I do look particularly doll-like today. I wasn't sure if the ribbon tied up in my hair was too much, but I thought I'd try it out. I made a mental note: no more ribbons. I had washed my face twice and there was no sign of tears there now.

  "Baroness Grancine, so kind of you to visit again!" I returned her curtsy, hers was one-handed because she had a fresh wine glass in the other. Gedes brought out the bottle on a tray, and bowed his way out.

  "I heard that they are keeping you locked away like a princess in a tower! Until you're fifteen, the nerve! Though, you are technically a ducal princess. And this is a tower. So, not so much a simile as a description. A princess in a tower!"

  "Yes, the judge was really unreasonable about that. I can't see why-"

  "Pssh, the judge!" Grancine rolled her eyes. "He just follows orders like all of them. If you'd been found guilty, he'd have sentenced you to three years. If you were acquitted, he would sentence you to three years. It's part of the deal worked out in the Council chambers. The High Court of the Council takes its orders from them."

  I sat back, stunned. "So it was all fixed?"

  "Everything is fixed," she assured me. "I am quite sorry though dear. I really did go to bat for you. I managed to get all of Tarratan pulling for you, and we were able to sway Pinking and Eyellon both, which is amusing! Obviously your own mouthpiece was pulling the strings that she could, but Freckentop and Skyback were both stridently spending favors against you. You may not draw reassurance from this, but your family's enemies depleted a lot of resources to keep you locked up here, and generated some appreciable friction within the Dominionist faction when Eyellon and Freckentop were on opposite sides of such a divisive vote!"

  I nodded, absorbing all this. I needed to familiarize myself with this, it was going to be my life quite soon.

  But also- "I worked really hard on that defense," I said, absently. "I really thought I earned that win."

  "Oh, I know dear, and working hard is a really fine habit to be in, you really must not take my example," the baroness said, and sipped her wine. "Speaking of your hard work, and I apologize for the abrupt segue, but I am dying to know-"

  I laughed, and brought a sheaf of papers flying to my hand from the coffee table. "This number is called Paper Planes. It has a lovely soaring melody of flutes and strings, and a stirring percussive rhythmic section. You'll find it's appropriate for a four-piece chamber, and a small contingent of armed guards. I've got some choreography notes as well. Not a very long composition, but it's more of an accent or a conversation piece."

  "Lovely," she breathed after I slid the pages under the window to her. Her eyes were crackling with glee, and her eyelid twitched. Someday she was going to snap, hard. Or it might have already happened and I missed it. "You really did it. Scored for sabers drawing, and ... coins jingling?"

  "On the beat," I said, tapping it out on the board. Tap-tap-tap-tap, skip a beat, and clatter.

  "Oh," she said, smiling broader as she sorted the choreography notes. "This is fun... start with a corner orchestra, draw eyes in that direction, and then bring armed men in by each side in sequence, use the sabers to pull people's eyes from one side to another, they're surrounded, your audience has the experience of being robbed at swordpoint... as the backing baroque of a chamber piece!" She cackled with unrestrained impish mischief. I had sussed her out a while ago: anything with music that is shocking and avant-garde is going to thrill her. And she pays me well when she's thrilled.

  Would I have used hiphop as an orchestra piece? It wouldn't have come to me intuitively, that's for sure. But I'm not really being asked for that, I'm being asked for the most outlandish ideas. I don't have to be skilled, I have to be different. Which is good because I am less skilled that any of the musicians I'm ripping off.

  She paused, and used a swig of wine to clear the crackling out of her throat. "I've left a large-ish supply of ruled music pages with your man at the desk, he should have those with you at your leisure. It's rather too much to slide under this aperture. But know that House Tarratan is going to be thrilled to keep working with you! Small pieces like this, or something larger, grander... and don't think that we are only juicing for the novelty and the shocking. Not everything needs cannons and sabers. I personally may love it just to pieces, but my matrons and patrons will occasionally pat my wrist to bring me to heel, you know. And they've told me that next time I speak to you, to urge you for really anything you choose to share with us. Even your most straightforward and traditional pieces keep shifting the dynamic. The overture from your first concert, the progression in D minor? Easily one of your least challenging works in the sense that it does not defy convention openly, and yet it was novel and new, and clearly was not drawn from the same school as every other composer out there. In its own subtle way, it showed people that they can find new ways to play and write, and that subtle approach is terribly valuable, it will reach people and encourage those who would never dare to score sabers and explosions, and urge them to branch out in small ways."

  "All of which pulls them away from Eyellon," I supplied, nodding.

  "Precisely," she snarled. "We poach their musicians, we close their schools, we cancel their tours! They lose relevance, they lose revenue, they lose lose LOSE!"

  Wine sloshed, and she straightened herself. "Sorry, I do lose a bit of coordination when it is so early as this. Most clumsy of me."

  "Sunrises are hard on everyone," I assured her.

  "Quite, quite," she smiled. "Off hand, how many songs would you say you have soaring about in that ingenious noggin of yours?"

  I smiled broadly. "Now, I can think of new songs far faster than I can write them. Putting notation on pages is the slowest part of my process. I can write for flute and clarinet easily enough, but the others are challenging. I need to hear it in my head, and work backwards from there. I have to work out the math to follow a third note with a fifth note, and tap out the tempo to know how to notate. My notation process is slow, yes. But ideas? How many original, never-before-in-this-world songs? Hundreds."

  The shudder that went through her body was a little vulgar. "Hundreds?" she repeated breathily.

  Gross. "I'm pretty sure. I can make some notes if you're really interested in a number, but it will be a lot."

  When I say that it sounds so impressive. And I do want it to be impressive. But I'm pretty sure that I actually do know that many songs, if everyone is real patient how long it takes me to produce them. I'm not good at composing. It's a skill that I've not mastered, and since clumsily noting down songs like I do is not much practice, I'm not sure I'm getting any better. Not that it matters to her, at all. Everything I do here is magical and amazing. This whole world only knows five major melody structures, seven chord progressions, and about four tempos. The music here is very simplistic, designed to be something you can loop at a low volume for hours at a time without getting tired of. So, just the songs that I remember played over the radio, or the speakers at the grocery store, or in my four years of high school band? Those are an invaluable resource to the musicians of this world.

  I could literally be the only person here capable of bringing new innovations in music. The most derivative and amateurish work from Earth is mind-blowing here.

  "Hundreds.... "She tapped her wineglass. "Well, that makes you my favorite new musical prodigy in all the world, and soon to be everyone else's favorite as well. We just need to figure out how to speed the writing along. I will not pressure you for that, you have already done... so much," she grinned again. "I will look into my resources and my people to see if we can assist you as much as you assist us. And the sooner your music is in circulation through the Tarratan House, the sooner we can establish your anonymously-held accounts. You really must be getting paid for this sort of work!" she gestured with the pages in her hand, and the tendons in her forearm stood out like cables. A vein jumped in her neck. She was getting all worked up again. She's gonna burst a blood vessel.

  God I hope she makes it home okay.

  We finished up and wished each other well, and she was on her way. I took a few minutes to decompress. That woman is a lot.

  "My lady," Gedes said. "Lunch is served." His key clicked in the latch of the door, and my magic went away again. I dropped six inches, hit the ground running, and slammed into the wall.

  "Ow."

  Everything that I was keeping conjured had all disappeared at once, and I had been unprepared for what would happen. On the other side of the room, a silver tray clattered to the floor and his shoes clacked as he ran to me. I almost had stopped my head spinning when he stooped over me, his face showing real worry. "Are you well, can you hear me? Please do not move!"

  "I'm good, I'm all right," i said. "Just knocked the wind outta me." I had been sprinting on a treadmill, and when the treadmill vanished I was just sprinting. Bad idea in a locked room.

  He was holding my head, looking me over for blood or breaks, when he realized that I was presently wearing very little. Some of the clothes in my wardrobe had been modified to jogging shorts and a tank top, which by the standards of Hearstwhile is basically naked. He resisted the urge to leap back and drop me, but I could see him start to twitch that direction. He had to stop himself, and I could see it.

  "It's not indecent, it's just for physical training," I said, sitting myself upright. I was sweat-sheened, but not soaking through. "I needed freedom of movement."

  "On that... contraption?" he said, helping me stand carefully. He did it with his eyes entirely averted, he did not agree with me as to whether running shorts and a tanktop was indecent.

  "It's called a treadmill," I said. "It gives me a way to run as fast as I like within the bounds of this room."

  And when it vanishes suddenly, I have a lot of momentum that is hard to get rid of. Ow.

  He shook his head. "I should have reasoned that it was maintained by your magics, and that opening the door would reactivate your collar. This was part of my initial briefing with Inquisitor Pina. Also... weren't you wearing more before?"

  "Er, yes, a full sweatsuit," I said. "But I had to conjure that too. Perhaps, going forward I should just ask for tailored clothing if I need something that is not already in the wardrobe."

  "It was an unusual garment, but it did not seem complicated. It should be rather easy to get some put on order for you. It would be best if your modesty was not reliant on your magic remaining constant. Now, please do see to yourself a little, I shall ask the kitchen to send up a fresh tray."

  I walked myself towards the bedroom where my wardrobe was. "It sure would. And, going forward I'll make an effort to be better-prepared when you are bringing meals or maids or some other occasion to open the door."

  "That would be best," Gedes replied. His voice was raised to carry from one room to another, but I could still tell by the sound that he was facing away from the open door. You can take the man out of the butler... "But while we are discussing the subject, my lady, do you really crave open spaces to run in so badly as this? To create a contraption just to run upon, it is quite unusual. I've known many enough people in ... difficult circumstances with limited opportunities to the out-of-doors, but none seemed moved to such extreme measures." He sounded like he was picking up the fallen tableware and serving-tray.

  I did not take anything off, I just dabbed down with a towel before throwing a shift over my head and slithering into it. "For one thing, yes. I am accustomed to far more freedom than most people of any rank or circumstance. My old home, now destroyed, had acres of lawn to play about, and several farms nearby that I had the run of the place. A dedicated swimming pool, and athletic gear in a gymnasium. Also, crucially, the ability to step out of one room in one place and then into another room on the other side of the kingdom."

  No corset for lunch, but I did fit into a blouse and skirt over the shift, to make a more casual look. Well, casual for a dame of the realm. But a lot more formal and proper than running shorts.

  He was silent a moment. "I had been told that this was one of your capacities, but I was not sure what to make of that claim. I'd never heard of any mage that had an ability to move vast distances as if from one chamber to another."

  "It was very real," I said. "It was not fully instantaneous, but it was closer than anyone would think possible. And it did not cross intervening barriers or walls. I am still not certain how it is that the sigils of this facility are able to stop that ability, honestly. It should not be possible for a linear obstacle like that to restrain my spell's ability to create doors in space."

  "I am certain you would know better than I," he said easily. "The works of spell-casters are not my forte. But I cannot see why it is that the wardens of this facility have been so very insistent that you not be given any opportunities to the yard at all. Most prisoners are given a chance to stretch their legs somewhat, and with that collar around your neck you are no different, really. You will not be stepping out of space while your magic is suppressed."

  I put a pair of slippers on, and walked back out, running a brush through my hair. "Keep in mind, Gedes, that I have already escaped once from a location they thought utterly impervious, and they still do not know how I did it. They are not confident they could stop me from doing it again. And it suits my purposes to have them wondering about it. Even if it leads to stricter precautions, I do not want the powers that be to think that I am a known quantity that can be taken for granted. I've told them in so many words that I am here as a matter of honor, bound more by my word than by their wards. I wish them to keep believing that for the next three years."

  A knock at the outer door, and Gedes walked over to answer it. "That sounds most inconvenient, my lady. Why ever would you want a thing like that?"

  "Because it keeps them in the habit of thinking of me as an honorable woman," I said, smiling with a wink. "And a formidable one. So that when I speak to them they trust my words, and respect them."

  He opened the door, and accepted a covered tray of food from the armed guard outside. Normally everyone took great pains to keep me from seeing the guards in person. The door closed and he approached, holding the delivery in both hands. He stepped around the smears on the floor from earlier. "I believe I understand your reasoning. A well-developed reputation may be a lifelong investment, if it is well cared for."

  I sat down on the leather club chair and took a napkin to spread over my lap. "Quite so, Gedes. The more well-known you are for honestly, the more trust everyone will give you when you finally tell a lie big enough to sacrifice all that work."