Magistra

Your grandmother must have provided assistance to the magistra at some point.

What the magistra hadn’t said was that a number of the other students were children, some as young as eight or nine.

“You will take the magistra and magister wherever they need to go, please. They have done my household great service tonight.”

The Magistra was waiting for him in the entrance hall, the vast double doors already opened.

It was, after all, addressed to the magistra of the branch, and technically she fit the description.

With some difficulty, the magistra managed to undo the clasp.

Giving the magistra an apologetic nod, he turned to the karanat and observed, “You do speak Esse. Let’s have no more pretense of that kind. I have questions, which I can put to you in civilized fashion here, under Magistra Ilia’s eye, or elsewhere, under no concerned gaze.[…]”

“On the contrary, show them both in, and bring us a can of Tulamyde Gold and some cookies. It will not be said that I am stingy with important guests,” Emmeran Stoerrebrandt proclaimed. Yet another violation of his dietary rules. He regretted it almost at once. At least until the Magistra rushed into the room, her face set in a grim scowl.