No ring or knob to open them. Like the doors hidden in the walls and used by the servants to come and go, this door had also been forbidden to the guest. Politely forbidden, but forbidden nonetheless. Brasley, Talbun, and Olgen stood in front of the door again, pondering how to get inside. “We could take one of the beds apart,” Brasley said. “And use the headboard as a battering ram.” “The doors look pretty sturdy,” Talbun said. “You might scratch it, I suppose.” “I don’t think the servants would like it if we tried to bash down one of their doors,” Olgen said. “Probably not.” Brasley shuffled his feet, yawned. Talbun stepped forward and knocked on the door. Loudly. Predictably, three of the white-skinned servants appeared behind them, bowing and jabbering apologies. But not opening the door. Talbun lifted her chin, summoned her most regal manner, and addressed them in the ancient Fyrian she’d been practicing with Olgen. The servants exchanged puzzled glances.
