Self-interest, self-interest. It was probably why there were no political fights between her parents at home: They had no real political differences, just varying opinions on how to make the most money. Lovisa had a perfect understanding of Ledra politics. And one day before too long, she would graduate from the academy, then be expected to choose a party and an industry. Whatever she chose would become her identity, for the rest of her life.

Suddenly Lovisa couldn’t bear it. No wonder Katu was always leaving! What if she went to the Royal Continent, where politics were surely no less corrupt, but at least they were simpler, because one person’s greed decided everything for everybody? And more importantly, where she knew no one, and could do what she wanted. She could be like Katu, sweeping into a place, sweeping out again when she chose.

And then her mind returned to her own home, her brothers. She couldn’t leave them, could she? Especially with the recent list of small, odd things that were happening, none of which would be so noteworthy on its own, but that, together, left her with a suspicious feeling. The air at home tasted wrong.

Lovisa decided that before she went anywhere, she would find out what Benni was keeping in the attic room.

Chapter Eighteen

After Giddon finished his morning ritual of tears, he forced himself up.

Cobal, he thought, the Estillan envoy who antagonized us.

Katu, who is missing.

A disturbance in the water, reported by silbercows, below a many-windowed house on a cliff.

Mikka and Brek, drowned in the sea.

These are the mysteries I’m going to solve, he thought to himself, for Bitterblue.

The morning after the Cavenda dinner party, Giddon found Quona alone at breakfast, or at any rate, as alone as a person could be in a room swarming with cats. At a quick glance, Giddon, who sneezed as he sat down, counted seven.

“What are you and Hava planning to do today?” Quona asked him pleasantly.

Giddon and Hava hadn’t discussed any particular plan yet for today, for they’d walked home last night in seething silence. Hava, furious at Giddon for physically restraining her, had ignored every attempt Giddon had made to talk. Hava hated to be overpowered, especially by men. Giddon knew that. But she’d been about to attack a teenager! And they had a job, an agenda, and it was secret. They couldn’t be drawing that kind of attention to themselves!

“We thought we’d go to the harbor and check in on our crew,” Giddon said, improvising. In fact, he did want to go to the harbor, but to talk to the boating company that had leased the Seashell to Mikka and Brek.

“Good man,” said Quona. “I’m going north today. I may be gone overnight.”

“Oh?” said Giddon. “What’s in the north?”