Clara picked her pen up and started her writing once more. She and Jenny had been tasked with filling out the invitations to the ball since their handwriting was the nicest. When Vashtra had given them the assignment, Clara had giggled with how familiar Clara and Vashtra had acted.
"Are you two... you know?" she had asked Jenny when they were alone.
"Goodness, no," she exclaimed. "We're just really good friends. Sisters, really. We've worked together for a long time in a lot of different houses. People keep on asking that though. I'll tell you what else they ask, they keep asking if Jack is that way too."
"And he's not?"
Jenny shook her head. "No. Y'see, people started asking that after they saw him with his brother, Alonzo. He explained that he and his brother were just really close growing up. There's nothing between them, and there's nothing between me and Vashtra."
Clara nodded her head in understanding and went back to writing. She only stopped when she heard heavy footsteps going down the hallway. Looking up, she saw through the open door that the same cruel man who had bid on her no more than three weeks earlier, the one Vashtra had identified as the Master, was stalking through the hallways with Vashtra right behind her.
"Clara," she stopped and said, "run down to the kitchen and get some coffee for our guest and the Doctor." Clara nodded and obeyed, bringing the tray to the study.
She opened the door to see the Master talking to the Doctor. "My good, sir," he was saying, "I understand that you may not think it necessary, but Lord Rassilon will require some extra protection." The Master's sandy blonde hair was cut in military fashion and his chin was clean shaven. Underneath his long coat, Clara could see that he wore the insignia of a marshal in the Gallifreyan military.
"I will not object to whatever you may deem necessary, but I will not hire any additional security. If Rassilon doesn't feel safe, he can bring his own troops. I'm already paying for everything else."
"Fair enough. With that understanding, I shall leave and prepare Lord Rassilon's escort." The Master turned to leave, but turned back to the Doctor. "You seem familiar," he said. "I swear that you look like a slave that escaped the forges many years ago."
Clara looked at the Doctor who simply smiled quaintly at that. "Do I?"
"Yes. It was fifteen years ago now. I've been looking for him ever since. He has evaded me this whole time."
"Well, if you haven't been able to find him, he's probably dead. If he is alive, then I pity him. Would you care to stay for coffee, Master?"
"No, thank you. I have my own plans to get to." The Master executed a perfect about-face and exited the study without so much as a glance in Clara's direction, for which, she was grateful.
"You can leave that there, Clara," the Doctor said, indicating the tray in her hands with a dip of his head. "I'll have some in a bit, you can go back to work." Clara obeyed and left, shutting the door behind her. It was a curious thing, what she had just witnessed. How could the Master say that the Doctor looked like an escaped slave. It was beyond her ability to comprehend. Despite that, she went back to the room where Jenny was still filling out the invitations and got back to work with her.