Some minutes later, the fox scampered back to Ferla and Benni’s bedroom. He took the normal route, through the corridors. Pushing through the flap in their door, he crawled into his own little bed beside the fire, luxuriating in the warmth.
He raised his nose once, sniffing. The room smelled like a visit from Lovisa.
What had she done now?
Sighing, the fox stretched his tired mind around the house. But when he found Lovisa, she was in her own bed, asleep.
He wished sometimes that he didn’t care. His fox friends, especially his siblings, warned him that he shouldn’t care, especially not for a human to whom he wasn’t bonded; that caring led to dilemmas. But Lovisa and the fox had been children together. The fox had seen what it was like to be a child in this house. He’d watch her learn to lie, hide, sneak, just like a fox did. Then he’d watched her fall in love with each of her brothers, and begin lying, hiding, and sneaking on their behalf.
Could he help it if it had created a connection, a different kind of bond?
Suddenly the fox remembered something. Lovisa believed herself to have closed him in the attic. In the morning, he would have to be discovered closed in the attic.
How tiresome. The fox dragged himself to his feet, knowing he should probably go there now, in case anyone woke up and found him where he shouldn’t be.
Adventure Fox, he thought to himself wearily as he made his way through the heat ducts again. This was his chosen name. Not Fox, but Adventure Fox. Adventure for short.
Though he wouldn’t mind if the coming days involved a tad less adventure.
* * *
—
In the morning, Lovisa went down to breakfast not knowing what to expect. To her relief, she found the dining room empty of everyone but Viri and Erita.
Their eyes widened at the sight of her. “It’s you!” they said, both small, dramatic in their happiness, their freckled faces glowing with the hope that she was staying for a while. Most Keepish people had brown freckles in brown faces, but Viri’s and Erita’s were darker than usual, more noticeable. It was cute.
“It is I,” she said, sitting down with a smile, waiting for someone to pour her some tea. “Did either of you spend any time in the attic room yesterday?”
“No!” said Erita. “We’re not stupid. Mother is angry, so we’ve been good. Mostly! Vikti has a cold.”
“Poor Vikti. Where’s Mother?”
“Yelling,” said Viri.
“Oh? Who’s she yelling at?”
“A guard,” said Viri. “She fired him.”
It shouldn’t surprise her; she’d made a conscious decision to sacrifice him. Still, a ball of sick dropped to the pit of Lovisa’s stomach. “Why?” she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.
“I don’t know,” said Viri. “She was whisper-yelling. Are you staying all day? It’s Wednesday. We have outside exercise on Wednesday and we could make a snow keep.”
“I know,” said Erita importantly. “He’s a slut with no self-control.”
“What?” said Lovisa, choking on her tea.
“He put his dirty fingers on something he didn’t deserve,” said Erita.
“You heard her say that?” said Viri, awed.
“Yes. You were in the bath.”
“What did he put his fingers on?”
“Something he didn’t deserve,” Erita repeated, stressing each syllable significantly. “I already said.”
“But what does that mean?” said Viri. “What didn’t he deserve? Did he steal?”
“I thought maybe he touched her fox. Mother is weird about her fox.”
“But maybe he had to touch it,” said Viri as a shape appeared in the doorway over his shoulder. It was their mother. Lovisa went cold. Not seeing her, Viri said, “Sometimes you have to touch the fox, like, if he’s in the way, or if he’s bringing you a letter from Mother. Are you staying all day, Lovisa?” he repeated. “And what’s a slut?”
“Yes, please,” said the calm and precise voice of Ferla. “Tell us what a slut is, Lovisa.”
The boys turned, startled, to look at her. Her expression was closed, almost haughty, and her hair was pulled back from her forehead as tightly as usual. She wore a sweeping coat of brown and silver fur, as if she were already on her way out, and her blue fox sat in her hood, peeking over her shoulder. The fox’s gold eyes watched Lovisa steadily.
Lovisa swallowed. “I’m sure I don’t know.”
“And I’m sure you do,” said Ferla. “Answer your brother. He wants to know what a slut is.”
“I don’t,” said Viri in a tiny voice. “It’s okay, Mother. I don’t want to know.”
“I distinctly heard you asking, Viri,” said Ferla. “Are you too cowardly to hear the answer? Ask your sister again.”
Now Viri was crying. “What’s a slut,” he said to his plate, wiping tears from his face.
“Ask the question as if you’re curious, Viri. The first time you asked, you sounded curious. And ask it of your sister, not of your plate, because I’m certain she knows.”
Viri was crying harder now, his breath squeaky and desperate. His fingers had crawled to his mouth. Lovisa sat perfectly still, knowing that if she did or said anything that deviated from her mother’s script, it would probably make things worse for Viri.
Ferla crossed the room and slapped Viri’s face. His crying turned to a scream. “Take him away,” she said in a disgusted voice to a frightened-looking attendant, who helped Viri up and rushed him out of the room. Lovisa guessed he would spend the day alternating between vomiting and hysterics.
“Sit down, Erita,” Ferla said when the older boy tried to slip out of his seat too. Erita was doing a better job of not crying, but his face was tight, his eyes big. “I want you to hear Lovisa’s definition of a slut, so that later, you can tell your brothers. Lovisa? We’re waiting.”
Lovisa forced her voice calm. “A slut isn’t anything. There’s no such thing. It’s just a nasty word people use to try to make other people ashamed for wanting to be happy.”
Ferla swept around the table and was reaching for Lovisa before Lovisa even understood what was happening. Ferla’s fingers clutched the twists in Lovisa’s hair and pulled her up from her seat so fast and hard that Lovisa couldn’t help crying out in pain. Ferla began dragging Lovisa across the room by her hair, her fox bobbing around on her back, comically, like he was enjoying some kind of carnival ride.