PARADISA

[His voice is high-pitched and excited, with each word spoken strongly and clearly. It's the voice of a young boy, one whose voice hasn't yet broken, though it's beginning to; it cracks several times during the span of the post.]

Nikah told me a story about a haunted book, once; he said that's what happens to hocuses when they read too much and then they die in their libraries and nobody finds the body for days and days. And then their ghosts get trapped in the books, see, and the books all start talking and shit, and that's why the Mirador declares a-po-sta-sy sometimes, because then a hocus'll read the haunted books, and his head'll all get turned around. But I think I'm okay, because I ain't reading none of this and I ain't no hocus and my head's too empty to get turned around by magic anyhow.

Zephyr says... oh, um, nevermind about that shit.

So anyways, this one time, Jeanne-Mer told me about her momma, who she said was a princess, but I don't believe her, though she swears it by the Septad Gate and Mélusine’s cunt all the same. Anyway, she said that her momma lived in a big castle, with all the nice wallpaper and paintings and vases, and pretty people in nice clothes all going about their business. I wonder if that's like this.

[A pause.] Okay, bye.

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So who owns the fucking horses in the fucking stables?

[Mildmay has been studying the journal he found for just long enough to be confident he knows how it works. He speaks once, carefully; he only wants to do this once, because if his hunch is wrong, it's gonna sting.]

Any of y'all ever heard of no Stephen Teverius?

[Done. He sits back in a comfortable chair found in one of Paradisa's many antechambers. Anyone watching him would think he had all the time in the world.]