Lyra couldn't tear her eyes away from Old Mrs. Covington's face. The question Penelope had posed seemed to hang in the air between them, charged with significance she couldn't yet grasp.
"Who is Eleanor Croft?" Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Old Mrs. Covington's eyes narrowed as she studied Penelope. "I'm waiting to hear what Mrs. Quinn thinks she knows."
Penelope's smile was triumphant. "The Croft family of Clance," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "Not just any Croft family—the ones who control half the shipping routes in the Eastern provinces."
Lyra felt her brow furrow. She'd never heard Eleanor mention any connection to shipping wealth or business interests.
"Eleanor has been living like a recluse in Oceanion," Penelope continued, "but her family's influence hasn't diminished. They've simply been... discreet."
Old Mrs. Covington tapped her cane against the floor. "And this matters because?"
