Moments later, she pushed out into the cold morning, pulling her coat closed and avoiding the streetlamps. The ambles opened just before sunrise on Sundays, and there was something Lovisa needed before the rest of the world woke.

—

Sometime later, back in the dormitory, her expression flat, her hair and clothing neat as they always were for breakfast, she went down to the dining room. There, she joined Mari Devret, who was at a small table by himself.

He was musing over a cup of tea. “Did you have a good time at the gala?” he asked her.

“Yes,” she responded automatically. “You?”

“All right,” he said. “I came back early. Got bored.”

“You studied, didn’t you.”

He smiled over his tea. “Possibly.”

“Predictable.”

“Everyone else thinks I snuck away to do something more thrilling with people more popular, so don’t tell.”

“I never would.”

“I saw you sneak out,” said Mari casually, leaving it hanging. It was a mild question. He would never ask directly.

“Pari and I eventually went our separate ways,” she said, after a moment’s deliberation. “It didn’t come to much.”

“Ah. I’ll admit I was a little surprised. At you,” he added, when she raised an eyebrow. “Not your type.”

“Oh? What’s my type?”

“Someone who doesn’t talk about it afterward.” He poured himself another cup from the pot on the table. “Want some?”

“I’ve ordered my own,” said Lovisa, knowing that Mari still drank the northern, grassy brew that was Nev’s favorite, as an act of self-indulgent gloominess. Lovisa preferred the stronger, sharper teas popular in Ledra.

Nev came into the dining room then, her fox kit scampering around her feet. Almost imperceptibly, Mari stiffened.

Lovisa studied him for one tired moment, then decided he was better off knowing. “I saw a boy coming out of her room early this morning,” she said. “I’m sorry, Mari.”

“Who was it?” he asked sharply.

“I didn’t see,” she lied.

He snorted, trying to keep his expression nonchalant, but Lovisa saw the hurt sitting there. “I appreciate you telling me.”

“She never appreciated you,” said Lovisa, meaning it.

Mari snorted again. “That’s not true, but whatever. I should probably stop moping.”

“And stop drinking that disgusting cow-feed tea. You’re a Ledra boy. Act like one.”

His smile was genuine. He set his cup down onto the table, then, a moment later, got up and left, probably to comfort himself with more studying. Mari’s grades were especially good when he was depressed.

Nev sat at a table by herself, on the other side of the hall. Her little kit leaned against her ankles as she ate, staring rather disconcertingly at Lovisa, who felt she’d had enough attention from foxes to last a lifetime.

What would Nev do if she knew the Queen of Monsea was imprisoned in the Cavenda attic?