Behind the closed door, her mother’s voice grew louder, then the door opened and Ferla’s bonded blue fox bolted out of the classroom and down the passageway. Good riddance, Lovisa thought, watching the animal go, for she had no fondness for her mother’s fox. Blue foxes in Winterkeep, which were actually more gray than blue, had the ability to bond telepathically to humans. The bonding was an opening of an exclusive mental pathway between one human and one fox, initiated by the fox. It allowed the fox and the human to share their thoughts and feelings with each other, for the rest of their lives. And Ferla’s fox served as Ferla’s smelly, devoted spy, nosing around, snooping, and telling on Lovisa and her little brothers whenever they misbehaved.

Ferla glanced out into the corridor. When she saw her daughter, her expression remained impassive. Then she saw her husband and surprise touched her small face. Some silent communication passed between them.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said quietly, then turned back to the room to dismiss her class. “Next time we meet,” she called out, “I expect an opinionated debate on the topic of chapter two.” Students picked up their belongings and began moving, chatting, forming groups, spilling out into the corridor. By the time Lovisa and Benni entered the room, Ferla had gathered her things and was heading toward the door.

“Good morning, Lovisa,” she said, turning the force of her attention upon her daughter. She raised a hand to touch her husband’s chest as he kissed her on one brown cheek. The students still remaining in the room slowed their movements, watching discreetly. Everyone always like to watch Ferla and Benni Cavenda when they were together, for both were members of the Keepish government, but they represented parties that were bitterly opposed. Ferla was a Scholar. Benni was an Industrialist. Ferla was also the nation’s current president; though, with a few important exceptions, that position was mostly ceremonial. Benni was an elected representative of Parliament. Ferla and Benni agreed on hardly anything politically, and made a spectacle of it sometimes while Parliament was in session. It turned out you could make yourself famous, even successful, powerful, by marrying the enemy and having your wars in public. Yet there were no political fights at home. It had always been that way: At home, her parents had no differences.

“Good morning, Mother,” said Lovisa.

“How is your paper coming along for Politics of Trade?” asked Ferla. She was a small woman who never seemed small, not even beside her big husband, for her chin was high and her face proud and certain. Her dark hair was pulled severely back from her forehead, streaked with white at the temple like Lovisa’s. All of Ferla’s four children shared her smallness of stature, but only Lovisa had the white streak.

“It’s going well,” Lovisa said.