Ivy opened the deck with a huff, stifling a comment about how she was a guest — she had a boundless impulse to provoke Blott, but had not entirely decided what direction to provoke him in. Beating him at cards had to have options. She squinted at the pieces of paper, quills, and — aha. There they were. Ivy plucked the box of cards up and turned, triumphant, towards her host after she closed the desk drawer.

"You organize like a woodrat," Ivy offered. She set the cards down on the table between them and plucked up her wine glass — of course he was stingy — although she did not take any sips yet.