“Certainly not,” the head magistrate said, his eyes bulging with alarm. “It’s just that we’ll want to be certain of where to find you, should more information come to light.”

“I’ll be here, at one of my offices, or on our grounds sifting through our burnt possessions,” Ferla said. “My husband will be here, at his office, on our grounds, or in an airship, searching for our missing child. When you’ve found the person responsible for these criminal accusations, we’ll be happy for you to inform us of it anywhere, anytime, so that we can begin our own legal proceedings. Do you understand me?”

The head magistrate hesitated, swallowing. Parliament could remove him from office just as swiftly as they’d placed him there. The fox felt him considering this. “Yes, of course,” he said. “Thank you, I’m sure.”

Then he scurried away, leaving the Cavendas and the Devrets together in the entrance hall. Mara and Arni stood quiet and unmoving. They weren’t looking at each other and their faces were carefully composed, but the fox could feel the beginnings of their joint comprehension.

“Well,” Mara said, with a deliberate attempt to soften herself. “This is a terrible thing. I’m so sorry, Ferla and Benni. Please let us know how we can help.” Then, glancing once at her husband, she went away.

Arni grunted something agreeable and followed her. He wasn’t trying as hard to put on an act, though the fox could feel that this was only because he was distracted. Arni was suddenly overwhelmed with concern for, and confusion about, the three small boys living under his roof. He went to seek them out in the guest apartments, invited them to his own library. For a while, he sat with them and read them stories, trying to assess, from some sign in their faces, how much they knew, how much of the magistrate’s accusation was correct. He looked into their eyes, trying to see what their lives had been. He also sent a message to the academy, asking his son to come home, for he wanted to know what his son knew about what Lovisa’s life had been.

But before that, still in the entranceway, Benni turned searching eyes upon his wife. “Frame me?” he repeated gently.

Ferla looked back at him, not speaking. The fox could feel the wall she’d built; Ferla was standing in another world. Her face was turned to Benni, but she couldn’t even see him from where she was.

“My wife of twenty years,” Benni said. “This is how you want it to end?”

Ferla walked away, climbed the narrow stairs to the guest apartments, barely hearing. She was plotting her escape.

—

That night, Benni and Ferla planned separately.