Being the caretaker and house-servant for a magician was an important job for an elf. It was one that Gaff took particularly seriously, as he did not serve Royal Magician Lillet Blan as the result of a magical summoning contract, but due to personal association and liking. Accordingly, he paid close attention to the amount of work he had to do and the time he had available to do it in. Even the Hallows' Eve revelry the night before had not slowed his attention to his work.

It had, however, made for more of it. Lillet and her homunculus lover Amoretta had attended the Palace masquerade the night before, the result of which was that all the supplies for getting them into their costumes were left out, while the costumes themselves had also been discarded when they returned from the party with rather less care and ceremony than had been used in putting them on. Gaff supposed he could have used the time while they were at the masque to do some of the clean-up from the prep work...but servants, too, even elven ones attached to magicians, had also been in attendance, enjoying the party.

"Apparently not as much as some people did, though," he muttered, extracting the remains of Amoretta's costume from the back of a chair, the carved corner of a writing desk, and the twisted and tangled bedsheets.

"I'm sorry; I was going to clean that up, but I overslept."

Lillet's voice made Gaff almost jump out of his shoes.

"I thought you were a magician, not a sneak thief!" he gasped, heart pounding.

She still had a blush on her cheeks from the implications of Gaff's first complaint even as she extended one leg.

"Master Freixenet was working on an enchantment for silent-step shoes," she said. "We're still having trouble with the duration, but the base enchantment works pretty well, don't you think?"

"I can't argue that," Gaff agreed.

Lillet walked over to the bookshelf and eyed her collection of yet-unread novels.

"Do you think you could bring up a tea-tray, Gaff? I slept right through breakfast and I'm starving!"

"Sure. Do you want late breakfast, early lunch, or high tea?"

Lillet selected a book, plucking down an adventure story that had been serialized in the Flying Mercury the year before she'd moved to the capital.

"It doesn't matter. Whatever gets the food back here the fastest. It's times like this I envy Amoretta's lack of appetite." As a homunculus, Amoretta ate less food than a natural human since she drew much of her energy from the magical processes of her flask.

"Okay. What about coffee?"

"No, that's all right." She grinned and added, "Thankfully someone had had an urn brought up to the research lab. After last night I think that was probably the most insightful decision we'll make all day."

"I'm guessing hangover-curing magic will be pretty popular."

Lillet wrinkled her nose; she'd had two glasses of champagne punch at the revel but no more.

"Probably," she agreed, seating herself in one of the armchairs by the hearth.

"That reminds me, Lillet. Don't you usually have a lecture scheduled for this time?" Gaff was actually a little put out with himself that he'd apparently gotten it wrong, because it was a lot harder to clean up when the room's owner was actually there using it. Not only would she be physically in the way, or needing him to do things other than clean, but he also had to be careful not to disturb her by making noise or kicking up clouds of dust.

"Oh, you mean how I've been helping Mistress Livingston with the sorcery demonstrations for the apprentices? Yes, I usually would be doing that, but it was cancelled for today."

"Did she oversleep even worse than you did?"

Lillet shook her head.

"It's Hallowmas today, remember?"

Gaff blinked.

"Yesterday was Hallow's Eve, so I get that, but what different does that make?"

"Well, to you, nothing. Elves and other fey creatures, or ghosts, or alchemical creatures like Amoretta don't notice, but Hallowmas is the feast of celebration of the saints. Essentially, it's as if the entire world was consecrated ground, which makes the power of devils and sorcery drastically reduced unless special barriers are erected, which of course would be forbidden on palace grounds. So the lecture was cancelled."

"I see," Gaff mused, feeling better now that he knew his memory wasn't at fault. "So that explains why Grimalkin has been hiding under the bed all morning!"