Not much later, the Council of Nobles convened in the boat shed. It was not their usual meeting time, and Fleuris LaFontaine had to be hunted down from some place in town. He came into the boat shed muttering and protesting and sat down at the table with a heavy sigh.
His face was red from the wine he had evidently consumed with his midday meal.
Johanna had thought it wise to let Roald stay at the Lady Sara. He’d been teaching some boys how to catch butterflies without damaging them, and had gotten wet. He had sticks in his hair and smudges on his cheeks and, when she called, had looked at her with such disappointment that she couldn’t bring herself to drag him along to a meeting, let alone one where tempers were sure to get heated. He hated it when people raised their voices, because he
