Viscount Aesernia’s office was handily labelled with a small bronze plaque and a handsome knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, which Simon confidently used.

  The door, once opened, revealed a man with dusty blond-brown hair already streaked with grey, despite the minimal ageing of the man’s face. A pair of spectacles dangled from a gold chain around his neck.

  Hey, those look almost identical to Christopher’s; it must be a popular style.

  “Ah, Duke von Loambarn! What a pleasure! And this must be Lady Artemisia von Lindt, how delightful!”

  “The pleasure is all ours, my friend,” the duke responded. “You are still available, are you not?”

  “Yes, of course, of course!” Viscount Aesernia stepped back to allow them to proceed into his office, a moderately-sized room with a large window in one wall. Another wall was taken up by shelves, and another had a blackboard mounted to it. The blackboard was covered in scribbles and diagrams, something that Artemisia was drawn to as she attempted to understand the equations set out upon it.

  “Where is Quintus?” the viscount asked suddenly, looking out into the corridor. “Did he not escort you?”

  “Quintus? We never encountered him,” said Simon.

  “Is he wearing a dark brown-coloured jacket today?” Artemisia asked suddenly. “And have his hair tied back?”

  “Yes, to both of those things. But if the duke says the two of you did not encounter him…”

  “Oh, but we did! We just didn’t know it was him!” Artemisia turned to Simon. “The man who nearly bumped into me earlier; he must be this Quintus.”

  Because in a novel, a random encounter like that is never just a random encounter!

  “If the viscount agrees, you must be correct. Very astute of you, Lady Artemisia.”

  “Oh, I was only making a leap in logic,” Artemisia replied, waving the compliment away. “Should we fetch him?”

  “Oh, there’s no need,” said the viscount. “He will return once he sees you two are not in the foyer.”

  “Yes, and if he asks, Huygens will inform him that we have already gone upstairs,” Simon added.

  “I suppose…” I guess he isn’t to be involved in our discussion.

  “Now, just a moment whilst I call for tea.” Viscount Aesernia tugged a bell pull that disappeared into the wall. “My apologies for the state of my study, I’m not used to having ladies visit.”

  “Oh, I don’t take any offence.” In fact, compared to many of the offices I’ve seen before, this is remarkably tidy. An image of a poky room with books and papers – plus a few used mugs and an almost-overflowing bin – sprang into Artemisia’s head, and she could not shake the feeling that she was remembering her own office space. God, was I that much of a disgrace? Surely not!

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  “You’re the only daughter of Duke von Lindt, are you not? Might I inquire after his health? We met at court once some years ago, where he was so kind as to advise me on an issue I had.”

  “He is very well, thank you for asking.”

  “Oh, and if you permit me to ask, how are you faring? I heard you had quite a serious ailment over the summer.”

  Will I ever escape that stupid accident? “I am in the picture of health, as you can well see. However, I came here not to exchange pleasantries, but to discuss your studies.” A moment passed before Artemisia hastily added, “Pardon my abruptness, but before too long the lecture will begin and I would very much like to attend it.”

  “Lady Artemisia here has a great interest in astronomy and the natural sciences,” Simon put forward. “I thought she might appreciate the chance to speak with another like-minded individual.”

  “I see, how lovely! Do you have any questions for me, my lady?” Viscount Aesernia smiled at Artemisia, and it was the kind yet patronising smile of an indulging teacher.

  I recognise it because it’s a smile I’ve given before, when talking to children. So he thinks I am no more than a curious child, does he?

  She raised a hand to her mouth to hid the twitch of her jaw. “I read your latest paper. The one on Aira.”

  “Oh, did you enjoy it? I hope the language wasn’t too hard for you to parse.”

  Her jaw twitched again. “It wasn’t too bad.” You should try navigating the conversations of catty women sometime. “I do have some questions about it, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

  “Ask away, ask away!”

  “You assume it is periodically eclipsed by another body, likely a giant planet, and use this calculation to prove it.” Artemisia strode over to the chalkboard and pointed at an equation she recognised from the paper. “However, I was curious where your assumption of the planet’s size came from. Instead of using Jarna’s size as a reference, which I understand is common practice, you assume the body is much larger as that is the only way your calculation results in a conceivable number. Why did you not consider the density of the eclipsing object in your equation?” Picking up a piece of chalk, she circled the character scientists in this world used for density.

  Wow, I’ve never said this world’s name out loud before. It feels weird to call this planet that instead of Earth.

  Silence echoed in the room, and Artemisia found herself reluctant to turn around. She could feel the prickling of gazes upon her back. “It was just a thought I had,” she half-laughed, putting the chalk down and peering over her shoulder. “Feel free to disregard it.” Variable stars aren’t really my field, after all.

  Simon, perched on the edge of the desk, had a hand over his mouth, but his eyes were sparkling. The viscount had a similar expression, although his was more abject shock than excitement. Then he seemed to recover himself and cleared his throat.

  “Dragon’s teeth, Lady Artemisia, it seems you’ve done your research. Please, would you continue your train of thought? I am anxious to know what conclusion you’ve arrived at.”

  “It seemed odd – at least, to me – that density wasn’t considered. The density of the eclipsing body would have an impact on its size and orbit. The size of the planet you’ve hypothesised, alongside its orbit… well, it would have to have an incredibly low density for your equation to hold up. I’ve never heard of even a gas giant with a density—” Ack, wheel it back! Don’t start talking about things you’re not sure if they have knowledge on yet.

  “A gas giant?”

  “Um, well…” Uh ohhh. Uh, what do I say? Okay, it’s okay. Make it out like it’s the imagination of an idle noblewoman.

  “Something I was thinking about! What if there were huge planets entirely made of gas, like ours is made of rock! Or liquid, even, to include all states of matter. A giant water world! Wouldn’t that be a fascinating concept.” I’m panicking! Stop panicking, it makes you look unprofessional!

  Then something happened that made Artemisia briefly believe in the presence of gods, before she remembered that she was in a novel and handy coincidences were the norm. Someone opened the door.