“I have letters to write,” said Giddon, who hadn’t had a moment to himself since they’d returned to the house. First, Coran had insisted on checking his vital signs. Then Froggatt had spent an hour impressing upon him a list of all the dinners and parties to which they were invited and at which he, Froggatt, expected Giddon to manage Hava’s unpredictable behavior.

“In that case, you may sit at the desk,” said Quona.

“I thought I’d work in my room,” he said. But then Hava said, “I’ll join you, Quona,” with such graciousness that Giddon became too suspicious to refuse. If she was up to something, it was best to know.

The advisers excused themselves, claiming to have some planning to do. Of course, this annoyed Giddon. Why should they get to escape? He watched them go with a measure of irritability he worked hard to hide, then wondered if he was being sanctimonious.

Go upstairs and look at the stars, said Bitterblue gently. Say something gracious occasionally. Then you can go to bed.

The upstairs sitting room, which was on the third floor, had windows overlooking the sea. Giddon had been in this room before, because he’d walked through it on the way from the airship. A staircase in one corner led to the roof. The rug, he noticed now, was patterned with curving shapes that looked like tentacles. The Keeper again.

Above them came the sound of scurrying feet. “Some of the cats are in the attic,” Quona said when she saw Giddon glancing at the ceiling. She indicated a second staircase, between two fireplaces, that led up to a closed door. Then she showed him to a desk near one of the fireplaces, brought Hava to the chairs by the windows, pulled a cat into her own lap, and rang a bell for tea. Another two cats tucked themselves against her feet.

Giddon did have letters to write, but first he had Skye’s letter to decipher. He hoped the key was “bratty little brother,” like before. Otherwise, this enterprise would be beyond him. He was not a cipher breaker.

In the window, Hava had pulled the cat toy from a pocket and was dangling its pom-pom before the nose of the cat in Quona’s lap. The cat glared at it suspiciously, almost cross-eyed, but didn’t react.

“How fun,” Quona said.

“I bought it in the Flag Hill amble,” Hava lied. “Quona, did you know that a number of Keepish importers were buying the rock detritus from Monsea’s silver mines for almost no money, cheating Queen Bitterblue out of some of her zilfium?”

Giddon watched Quona while pretending not to. “I did not,” she said, seeming unruffled. “That sounds like an underhanded thing to do. I hope you’ve put a stop to it.”