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It took her a moment to realize her brother was talking to her.

“I’m fine.” She folded the paper and shoved it under the table. If Darragh Marionne burned, Nore was stuck with toushana. She was stuck attached to this Order forever. She had to write to her and soon. A server set a creamy coffee in front of her, and she glared at the cup. She had to pull it together or she would be trapped in this prison—and eventually she’d be dead. Nore cleared her throat and forced herself to look around the table and greet each person. Beside her brother were several of her distant cousins, who apparently were visiting from Alaska. Mother sat at the head of the table all by herself.

“Mother,” Nore said, taking a sip of coffee, trying to blink away an image of Darragh Marionne on fire. “How was your morning?”

Her mother’s brows dipped. Nore realized her hair was behind her shoulders, exposing her earrings. She fixed it and took another sip. “What about you, Ell?”

“All fine. I’ll be out at the stables today to help with the shoveling.”

“There are people who take care of that,” one cousin asserted.

“Yes, and today I’m one of them.”

“Mother, when the ancestors are buried in the courtyard and they’re stripped of their few material possessions, do those things go in the family vault? Or are they disposed of?” Nore may as well go for the kill.

“What do you think?” her mother said, working her teaspoon back and forth in her cup. It was a trick question to engage her in conversation: Nore knew the answer.

“The ancestors believe that the material worth of a thing is not its monetary value but what it represents. And on that spectrum, intellect is something that cannot be bartered. Because it is wholly possessed, intellect will always have more merit than mere possessions. So, I think they burn them.”

Her mother let the silence stretch, but Nore didn’t miss the gleam of satisfaction in Ellery’s eyes. Even her cousin leaned forward at the table to get the full sight of her.

“You happen to be correct,” her mother conceded. “Though on occasion a special item might make it into the family vault. Speaking of which—Ellery, I saw the stuff you left for me today in the Hall.”

Nore leaned over in her chair. “Has she ever let you put those crates inside the vault yourself?”

“Whispering at a table is poor manners, or did you miss that day of etiquette?” Her mother shoved a bite in her mouth. “I’m very sorry, cousins. Forgive their manners.”

Her eldest cousin cleared his throat.

In her most level voice, Nore said, “I’d love to see the vault someday.”

Ellery stared, head cocked.

“You reach above your station quite boldly this morning, Nore.”

Nore bit down the sassy retort that came to mind. She couldn’t back down now. Not when her mother was talking. “I am curious. And curiosity is the seed of intellect. You should be pleased.”

To that, her mother only took another sip, which felt a bit like a win.

“I could go see it on my own if you’re too busy. I’m sure Ellery could assist, as long as you don’t mind giving him the key.”

Her mother chewed silently for a long time before saying, “Claves secretum reginarum.”

The key’s secret is the queen’s, or the secret keys are the queens, or something like that.

“I am the key, child. There is no getting into the vault without me. That access is blood-granted.”

“So then, you’ll take me?” Nore pressed.

Ellery’s spoon clattered on his plate. He silently pleaded with her to stop this before the whole meal imploded. Nore’s mother dabbed the sides of her mouth with a napkin, sighing through her nostrils.

“What is the first consideration when augmenting the density of magic in a person?”

“Knowing their precise bone density before and after Binding.” Nore sat straighter.

“And what would you say was the most impactful development in the postmodernist era of magical innovation?”

“Well, it depends on whether you’re examining that through a Sfentian or Dysiian lens. The latter is probably medicinal uses of toushana. And the former is unarguably the evolution of anointing, allowing a more inclusive Order membership. Not everyone wants to don a crown.”