At the bottom of the steps, he found her whimpering. In the dim light of the landing, he could tell that she was twisted oddly, one of her legs bent wrong and one of her arms trapped under her body. It was better luck than he’d dared to expect. How could a fox ever kill a human? his siblings had said.
Her head was arched back, her coat open at the top, exposing her throat. Fox, she shouted, vicious, furious, frightened. Fox. I’m going to kill you.
Quickly, the fox checked the house again for waking humans. He found none. Then, as if he were moving through a dream, he lifted the pads of his paws to the delicate part of Ferla’s throat. Bracing his hind legs as hard as he could, he pressed. What did I just do? he said. I thought I was outside in the cold. I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?
Something feels wrong, said Ferla. I’m choking! Fox! Are you choking me?
I don’t know what I’m doing, said the fox, pressing harder. I think my mind must have been injured in the fire. Where am I? Who are you?
Ferla was trying to thrash, but she couldn’t move her limbs. Something had broken inside her body when she fell. Fox! Stop!
I’m your fox, said the fox. You can trust me.
Then her terror faded away. Everything about Ferla’s feelings faded away. The fox waited a moment, still pressing.
When he was sure she wasn’t breathing anymore, he stepped down from her throat. Then, retreating slowly, he tucked himself against the wall. He was freezing, and old, and stiff. And Lovisa might be safe from her mother now, but he was pretty sure he had at least one broken rib. He felt like he had a broken soul.
That guard had decided to come inside after all. He was heading toward the source of the noise.
Pushing himself through pain, the fox ran.
Chapter Thirty-five
For Lovisa, everything was happening too fast.
Everyone else kept complaining that things were too slow. When the Ledra Magistry didn’t arrest her parents right away, the Monseans were incredulous. When the local Magistry showed no interest in their evidence because part of it came from stories the silbercows told—the queen got angry.
“Why can’t silbercows give evidence?” she demanded. “Why shouldn’t their knowledge matter? People have been murdered!”
“They make things up, Lady Queen,” the magistrate kept saying.
“But what about the things they aren’t making up?”
“And how are we to know which is which?”
“By looking into it!” the queen almost shouted. “People make things up too, you know! Do you believe everything every human witness tells you just because they’re human?”
“You aren’t from here, Lady Queen,” the magistrate kept saying dismissively.
But Nev and Nev’s family were from here, and Lovisa could see the resolve strengthening in their faces during these conversations. Everyone around Lovisa, Keepish or Monsean, was determined to see this through, regardless of rules or laws. It might almost be inspiring—except that what they were striving for was the ruin of Lovisa’s family. It was also the ruin of her own life.
She spent a lot of time sitting at the fireplace, watching people come and go, listening to the northern accent of Nev’s family wash around her, remembering that she’d used to sit by the fire in the dormitory foyer, keeping tabs on everyone’s business. It felt like a lifetime ago. It was literally last week. And she couldn’t get a handle on any of these people; Lovisa had lost the clever person she’d used to be. She was hollow and dry, like a shell made of powder. If anyone touched her, she would collapse into dust.
The morning after their arrival, she sat by the fireplace watching Nev, who was talking with her grandfather. They were having the most extraordinary conversation, in the presence of everyone, for Nev had told her grandfather about Nori Orfa, then asked him if he’d ever felt sexual jealousy. Her grandfather! She’d asked him that! Lovisa had whipped her head up at the question, unable to pretend she wasn’t startled.
“Of course I have,” he said.
“You have?” said Nev. “Why?”
“Your grandmother had many lovers before me,” Saiet said, at which point, Lovisa had to get up and go to her bedroom in the barn, because she didn’t want to hear another word. The barn was a huge, empty space, cold, full of creepy shadows and noises at night, like the attic at home. When she entered, the cow looked up from her pen, staring at Lovisa with big brown eyes, chewing. Beyond the cow, the chickens’ throaty noises were actually almost soothing.
This is how things have devolved, Lovisa thought, going to sit on some hay near the animals. I socialize with cows and chickens. Light caught floating motes of dust in the air. She sat and wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. Nev’s life was small. Wasn’t it? It was animals and dark, tiny houses; it was no one ever knowing her name. Why did the look on Nev’s face while she was talking with her grandfather make Lovisa feel like Nev’s life contained everything, everything?
* * *
—
Later, back in the house, Lovisa watched Giddon and Bitterblue working on the plan at the table. Everyone was obsessed with the plan.
Suddenly Giddon caught up Bitterblue’s hands and examined her rings. “Bitterblue,” he said in a voice of dismay. “Where’s your mother’s ring?”
The queen told Giddon about the ring falling into the sea. But first, she let him touch her hands with his own big, gentle, white hands, an expression on her face that instantly informed Lovisa that Giddon and the queen were sleeping together.
Two more normal people having sex for normal reasons. She hated them.
“Lovisa?” Bitterblue said then. “Will you help us?”
“With what?” she snapped.
“Well, with our plan,” said Bitterblue. “You know the plan?”
Yes, Lovisa knew that everyone was planning to invade the house, her house, to find the answer to why her parents had drowned the Monsean envoy and a royal adviser. Because yes, apparently, on top of everything else they’d done, her parents—her father—had done that too.
This is why I’m so numb and stupid, Lovisa thought, struck through with an aching beam of clarity. Because the only route to a place of intelligence passes through the land where I have to believe such things of my father.
When will I? How will I? Am I a coward who refuses to believe what’s plainly true? Didn’t I see some of it with my own eyes?
She went to sit with Bitterblue and Giddon at the table, answering their questions woodenly. Yes, she could draw a floor plan of the northern house and a map of the grounds. Yes, there would be caretakers at the house, and probably guards too, who might or might not recognize Lovisa. Yes, they’d probably heard her kidnapping accusations, because signal messages always generated rumors. Yes, she knew that someone with the initials LM had written a letter to her father about the Monsean envoy overhearing something in the storehouse, but she didn’t know who LM was.