She realized that she was staring, unseeing, at a pastry very much like the pastry the fox had brought her once in the attic. To the astonishment of the shopkeeper who’d been watching the Queen of Monsea bumble vaguely around her shop, she attempted to purchase two of them, discovered that the coin in her pocket wasn’t enough money, tried to put one back, had both pastries pushed upon her by the shopkeeper who insisted that the queen could have everything in the shop for free if she liked, shamefacedly promised to send her guard in to pay, then turned to go.

“Wait! Your proof of purchase, Lady Queen!” the woman called, then handed her a slip of paper Bitterblue was sure she didn’t deserve.

Kittens, Bitterblue said expressively to the fox as she left the shop. The richest woman on earth is not the woman who should be getting her pastries for free. She tromped across to Ranin to ask him to take care of it. Then she surreptitiously slipped one of the pastries into the hood of her fur coat, took a big bite of the other, and said to the fox, Is there some dark corner somewhere where we could get you into my hood, so you can have a treat?

The fox’s voice sounded confused, and incredulous. You want me to ride in your hood, and have a treat?

Do you not want a treat in my hood? she said, then remembered that her coat had once belonged to Ferla. This fox had been in this hood many times. Oh dear, she said. I forgot that I wear her coat. I’m so sorry. Of course you might not want—

I want to ride in your hood, he said.

Oh. Good. Here, I’ll sit on this rock under this droopy tree and pretend I’m fixing my shoe. Can you manage to sneak in?

A moment later, the fox was in Bitterblue’s hood.

Is it tasty? Bitterblue said.

I—I’m afraid to eat it.

Why?

I don’t understand what it means.

The pastry?

What any of it means, said the fox. You really don’t think I’m terrible?

I think you did something terrible, said Bitterblue, because you had to. I don’t think you’re terrible. It’s not the same thing.

It’s not?

These matters are morally ambiguous, said Bitterblue with a sigh. I’ve done terrible things too. I think we need to discuss it more. I’d like to include Giddon.

I remember Giddon, said the fox. He’s the big one who wrapped Hava in a scarf.

No doubt, said Bitterblue, who hadn’t heard that story yet, but thought it sounded silly enough to be true. He knows about you.

I gave you his notes, said the fox.