The journey back up the staircase with a flaming log and a shovelful of burning embers was not Lovisa’s best or proudest moment. Focused intently on the log, which was trying to slip out of the tongs, she kept forgetting to hold the shovel straight. Embers slid onto the staircase as she climbed, landing on her own shoes and the edges of her coat. Lovisa had never appreciated the efficacy of a flue before. The stairway became so thick with smoke that she was choking by the time she reached the top, where she had no time to make a careful choice about positioning. She poured the embers haphazardly onto a pile of crumpled paper, placed the log somewhere on the mess, turned, and ran down the stairs again. She heard a sharp sizzle behind her as a flame touched oil. There was a roar, like a wind. Then she burst back into the library, gasping, nose pouring, eyes streaming, and remembered that in an earlier life, ten minutes ago, she’d had the idea to cover her nose and mouth with a wet cloth before lighting the house on fire, then forgotten.

It was done now. She closed the swinging bookcase, wanting to cut off the smoke—then cracked it open, remembering that fires needed air. She tried to peek into the stairwell, heard snaps and hisses and growls above. Saw light. The fire seemed to be growing. The library, dark now with only the fireplace to illuminate it, hung with a haze of smoke. Lovisa ran to the main library door and listened there too, waiting to hear anything out in the corridor: shouts, cries of alarm, any sign that anyone had noticed that the second floor of the house was burning. Be outside, she thought to her brothers. Be outside. Then she thought of the guards, the attendants and maids, the cooking staff; then turned that part of her brain off. There were many ways out of the house and she’d lit the fire in a place that wouldn’t trap anyone. Everyone could get out, except the queen. Everyone would get out, and stay out, or else they would crowd around her mother’s study trying to extinguish the fire. Both possibilities would give Lovisa time to get to the queen.

It seemed to take forever. Wasn’t Ferla still in her study? Mustn’t there be smoke streaming under her door? Lovisa was coughing badly. With sudden forethought, she went to the desk and shoved the Keepish cash into her pockets, next to Katu’s papers and ring.

Then, instantly, everything happened at once. A cry came from somewhere upstairs, then more cries. Ferla’s voice, the shouts of guards. People running, doors slamming. A guard downstairs began yelling.

And then, somewhere above, there was an explosion. It was stunning. The whole house shook; plaster rained down on Lovisa from the ceiling. A moment later, a strange, metallic smell filled the air.