Count Bozes writes first
The Bozes dining hall is loud with candlelight, silver and conversation, and the master of the house is quieter than usual. Count Bozes cuts his meat, puts down his knife, and looks once more at the empty chair across the table.
“Three days.” His voice is low for him, which is still loud for anyone else. “She said she was returning to her homeland for supplies. She always says that. She always comes back with crates of things that shouldn’t exist.”
He drinks, then turns to you with a frank, weighing look.
“You’ve done business with Lady Mitsuha. My wife says you’re sensible, and my wife is never wrong, which is a great inconvenience to me.” A grim smile. “There are merchants in this city who would very much like to know where her goods come from. Some of them are not polite about asking.”
He leans closer.
“If anyone has been asking you about her, I want names. Will you tell me what you’ve heard?”
