Chapter Twenty-nine
That Sunday afternoon, no knock sounded on Lovisa’s bedroom door.
Funny how your parents murdering your friend can ruin a family tradition, Lovisa thought to herself. Then she burst into laughter, then curled up on her bed feeling sick.
Vikti, Erita, and Viri will begin to wonder what’s become of me.
After a failed attempt to escape into sleep, she got up and found her coat. Lovisa had decided, with a premonition that set her nerves humming, that she was going home for Sunday dinner.
* * *
—
The walk to Flag Hill was more slippery than usual, the sun low and blinding. Lovisa’s mind was unconnected to her feet. She lost her footing at the top of an icy staircase and might have cracked her skull if a passing woman hadn’t shot a hand out and grabbed her arm.
“Thank you,” said Lovisa breathlessly.
“No worries,” said the woman in a friendly voice. Then she looked into Lovisa’s face and her expression changed into one of resentful politeness. Lovisa recognized her from the dormitory kitchen. She was the young one Lovisa had eavesdropped on the day Queen Bitterblue had fallen into the sea.
I’m just a spoiled, bossy student to her, thought Lovisa, surprised at how much it stung. Everything stung her lately. Her hide was peeling away, revealing something soft and baffling, and weak.
At home, Viri was standing in the entrance foyer at the bottom of the stairs, his feet bare. At the sight of him, she felt a mute kind of panic. Why was she here? What was she going to do? And how could she keep whatever she did from hurting her brothers?
“Lovisa!” Viri cried, shivering from the blast of cold air as she pushed in. “Lovisa! Are you staying overnight? Because Vikti built a telescope!”
“How exciting,” she said. “I might stay overnight, I’m not sure. Where are Mother and Papa?”
“Mother’s in her study and Papa’s in bed.”
“Why is he in bed?”
“I don’t know. He was gone overnight in the airship, then came home, then went to bed. They don’t talk to each other anymore and they get angry if we ask questions. Are you staying for dinner?”
“Yes. I’m going to do some homework in Papa’s library. Then I’ll come play.”
“When?”
“Soon. What are you doing, anyway? Are you waiting for someone?”
“I have to stand in this square,” he said, pointing down at the pale marble tile beneath his bare feet.
“Why?”
“Because I was bouncing a ball against a ceiling I didn’t realize was Mother’s floor.”
“So you have to stand on that square?” Lovisa said, not understanding.
“It’s cold in here,” he said. “The air swoops down the staircase and under the door. Every time someone comes in, it’s freezing.”
Lovisa noticed the way he was shivering, hunching his shoulders to his ears. Looking up the stairs, she saw the fox, his eyes glinting through the banister, serving as Viri’s guard. If she or anyone brought Viri warm clothing or socks, he would end up with an even harsher punishment.
Something inside Lovisa went hard and certain. “I’m going to check on you,” she said, “soon.”
Then, a little frightened of her own fury, she turned toward her father’s library.
* * *
—
Inside the library, Lovisa stood like a girl made of electric confusion. She hardly saw the room around her. She only saw Viri on his square, and the queen trapped in the attic room. She touched the key tucked against her breast.
Lovisa understood that she was here to get the queen out of her prison.
But how? What could she do? Make a scene at dinner? It might’ve worked at the dinner with the Monsean delegation, but it was too late for that now.
What, then? The fox knew she was home, which meant that her parents knew too, and would be hypervigilant about keeping her away from the attic. Should she try to incapacitate her mother somehow while her father was in bed, then run for the attic? No. What was she going to do, attack her own mother?
Lovisa went to her father’s desk and began yanking the top drawers open, looking for some clue that would make sense of everything and tell her what to do. What had those Monseans been looking for? She found pieces of graphite, pens, envelopes, a button, a neat little pile of unpaid bills. Another neat pile of Keepish cash. No clues.
When she reached the few small panels that she knew were the fronts of secret drawers, she focused on a childhood memory. She’d pretended to fall asleep in Benni’s big armchair once, then peeked through her eyelashes as he’d felt around inside one of the top drawers with a deliberation that had interested her. As she’d watched, another, handleless drawer had popped open nearby.
Lovisa took a careful breath. After a minute or so of gentle fiddling inside the top drawers, a click sounded. One of the panels sprang forward, just enough for Lovisa to slip a finger inside. Quite satisfied with herself, she pulled the hidden drawer open, then cringed in horror as it made a terrible screeching sound. Quickly, she peeked into the drawer, saw that it contained some papers and jewelry, swept everything out, and shoved it into her pocket. She slid the noisy drawer closed and ran to the armchair, where she sat with her legs curled up around her, trying to look young and calm and innocent.
After a minute passed during which no one came, Lovisa reached into her pocket and pooled the things in her lap. A ring with a large red stone was familiar, and looked like her father’s style. The rest were Benni’s identification book and his checkbook. She opened the identification book idly, wishing for a clue for what to do.
Katu Cavenda’s name stared back at her. It wasn’t Benni’s identification book; it was Katu’s.
With the feeling draining out of her body, she opened the checkbook and found that it was Katu’s too.
And now, of course, she remembered why she recognized the ring. She’d never once seen her uncle without it. She supposed she would never see her uncle again.
Lovisa’s mind was working now. She knew what she was going to do.
* * *
—
First she took care of her brothers.
Running back to the foyer, she glanced up the stairs and saw that the fox was gone.
“Viri,” she said to the little boy whose freckled face lit up at the sight of her. “Where are Erita and Vikti?”
“In the schoolroom, I think,” he said. “Mother punished them too.”