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I dipped a strawberry in honey and took a bite, forcing myself not to dwell on what he might mean by other skills. “I hope I’ve changed your view about the conversation, at least. I think you’ve underestimated us.”

He watched me put the stem on the side of the silver tray. “I’m not convinced that you’re representative of your kind.”

My anxiety was long forgotten. This Archidux was genuinely interesting, and the wine and conversation had loosened my tongue. “Your Grace, where do you live when you are not exploring?”

“Call me Sebastianus. No need for formality.” His clear blue eye met mine. “You’re aware that I’m an explorer?”

“Yes, someone told me that you and Lord Clemens Fabius are both explorers.”

A frown passed across his face at the mention of the name. “My home is in Panpirion, which is where I was born.”

“You must miss it when you travel,” I said.

“Not really. Do you miss the place you came from?”

“No. I grew up in a nursery and then lived at the training school. And now I’m here.”

He stared into the fire. “As succinct a biography as I’ve ever heard.”

“I don’t know much more than that.” I hesitated and then surprised myself by continuing. “The truth is, I never knew my mother. I’ve always wondered about her, who she was, where she lived.”

He turned back toward me and studied my face thoughtfully. “If I had to guess, I’d say that you’re the daughter of a courtesan. Those cheekbones, that delicate chin, the shape of your mouth—your face is old Corlivo, many generations back. Your grandmother and great-grandmother also likely worked here or at one of the other great houses.”

A feeling of disappointment washed over me. “It’s discouraging to think of generation after generation simply doing the same thing in the same place.”

He shrugged. “All over the continent, people live where their parents lived, doing the work their parents did. There’s no shame in it.”

“I suppose that’s true.”

At that moment, a chime sounded. He took my hand, turned it over, and kissed it. “Bring me that book.”

He bowed deeply and, leaning on his walking stick, he left the room.

iv

I COULDN’T STOP THINKING OF THE WEIGHT OF THE ASTROLABE in my hands. Like a stone dropped in a pool, my conversation with the Archidux had filled my mind with a ripple of new ideas. I was surprised at how freely I had spoken to him. For the first time it occurred to me that interactions with the guests who came to Casa Caligine might be more than strained conversation and confusing intimacy. They could be an opportunity to learn about the world outside the walled city.

I said as much to Kyra the next day as we searched through old documents in the library, looking for even a small clue as to the identity of my mother. If Sebastianus was right, there was a good chance my mother had worked here at Casa Caligine. The ledgers were organized by year with the most recent papers near the door, while at the far end of the wall were fragile scrolls with their ink so faded as to be barely legible.

She dragged over a stool, tied up her skirt, and climbed up, tugging on a creaky handle. “This drawer is a bit stuck. Oh— there it goes. What else did you learn from the Archidux?”

“I can hardly remember it all. He talked of the university at Arcadium. He knew the names of several constellations.”

“You’ve said that already, about the university.”

I could see Geographica in its place on the shelf across the room. I got up and pulled it out, slipping it into my little leather satchel. “I wish that opportunity had existed for us. I would have leapt at the chance to learn something besides smiling and dancing.”

“You would have made a brilliant student.” Kyra sneezed, peering into a dusty drawer. We both stopped and rubbed our itchy eyes.

“What would you do, given the opportunity to do whatever you wanted?” I asked her. “Not a university, I think.”

Kyra sighed. “No, I wouldn’t like that. The truth is that I want to have a child. A daughter. Not one that I visited once a month at a nursery or the Schola Morum, but one that I held close to me all the time, that I fed and nurtured and taught.”

“What a lucky child she would be.”

“I think I would enjoy teaching little girls,” she continued. “I always liked the little ones when we were at school. But what’s the point of thinking about it? I’ll probably never get out of here.”

Silence settled over the room as we both reflected on the probability of this.