“Or Borza, or Tevare, or Mantiper,” said Benni. “Everyone wants airships.”

“Did the thief who stole the formulas break Minta’s safe?”

“No. Apparently they opened it.”

“Really? Will Minta be at dinner?”

“No, but the prime minister will.”

“Are people blaming that Graceling who finds things?”

“Trina? There’s talk, of course,” said Benni. “But Minta has as many guards as anyone, and that woman has never once been invited into her home.”

Lovisa wondered if Minta’s guards were involved. Then, thinking of the valuable item her father was keeping protected in the attic room, she wondered if her father trusted his own guards. Maybe Benni was wise to be taking extra precautions. “Well,” she said, obscurely excited by the news. Wishing she could tell Katu. “I won’t provoke Sara Varana about it at dinner. Unless, of course, you want me to.”

“My girl,” he said, smiling absently. Then he pulled her close for a moment, kissing her on the top of the head, his lips touching her white streak, right there in the middle of the street.

—

Atop the Cavenda house, Lovisa saw Quona Varana’s airship docked alongside her parents’.

She inhaled, preparing to be patient. “You invited Quona too?” she asked. “Why?”

“We couldn’t invite the Monsean delegation without inviting their host, could we?”

“Want to bet how many times she mentions cats?”

Benni pursed his lips. “I’ll go with five.”

“Then I choose six.”

“What are the stakes?”

“Candy,” said Lovisa nonchalantly. “Anything but samklavi.”

“Ugh. The loser should have to eat samklavi,” said Benni, wrinkling his nose but giving no indication that samklavi had any recent significance to him. The guards opened the door and Lovisa stepped into a crowded, noisy party. Glancing up the stairs, she saw Vikti, Erita, and Viri tucked behind the banisters, peering down with interest. They spotted her immediately. Viri called out her name, then someone must have caught sight of them, because all at once they went wide-eyed and bolted upstairs.

In the meantime, her father had abandoned her, so Lovisa did what she did best: found a dark corner, made herself small, and watched.

—

At dinner, Lovisa sat near one end of the long table, next to her father and Mara Devret, Mari’s mother, mercifully removed from her own mother. The room was ablaze with silbercow oil lamps. Lovisa wondered how much this dinner cost, and which of the foxes darting around the room was her mother’s.

To her delight, two of the Monsean delegates were seated right across from her, including the Graceling, Hava, who, it turned out, was just a girl. Lovisa had been expecting someone grown-up, flashy. Not this pale, plain girl who never talked.

“Are you studying Lingian in the school of politics and government, Lovisa?” said Mara Devret in Keepish, an obvious attempt to draw the Monseans graciously into conversation.