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And eventually, Havelock heads upstairs, with the intention of getting to sleep.

...At some point. Half an hour later sees him showered and in clean clothes, sitting cross-legged on his bed and writing up certain impressions that he doesn't wish to forget. Among them ideas for a new trap to install in his aunt's chimney.

Idly, he wonders if razor blades would be too unsporting.

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"Did you?"

Puck gives him a sidelong glance.

"I trust the journey was a productive one."

"Hmm," he says, stroking Aria's hair meditatively as he nods. She hums happily.

"I suppose so. Though it also turned up a slight problem - you recall my aunt?"

"I could hardly forget," Puck assures him with a grin. He tilts his head. "Is the lady quite well?"

If she'd dead, this conversation will get totally awkward.

"Oh, quite," Havelock assures him. "But now a subject of a Guild contract, it seems, which puts me in a most unusual position."

Usually people keep track of Guild members and their relations, but somehow Madam slipped through the net.

Totally not Havelock's doing. Ahem.

Puck's eyebrows arch. In his arms, Adrian squirms a bit in an abortive bid for freedom.

"My," he says. "That strikes me as something of a faux pas on their part."

Aria yells encouragement to her twin, or possibly a taunt for his failure.

"Indeed," says Havelock gravely, and shrugs. "Their initial attempt failed, at any rate. Her house is somewhat... fortress-like in certain regards."

Madam kept his childhood traps and locks around the house as any proud relative would treasure early projects from a developing young artist. Getting in when you don't know the safe route is extremely hazardous to the health.

"There have been attempts."

Already, that is. A contract is one thing, to Puck's mind; having it acted upon is slightly more serious.

"Oh, yes," says Havelock, slightly puzzled at his surprise. "The amount offered was generous for a first time contract. Certainly it would seem worth the risk to anyone who did not know her."

It's all about the money, in Ankh-Morpork.

"How very flattering."

Puck does find it flattering, really. No one pays money to have him taken out.

Where's the love, Blodwen?

"And I suppose you haven't any ideas as to the identity of the one who so keenly hopes for the lady's untimely demise?"

Havelock shrugs.

"It is easy to make enemies, in Ankh-Morpork," he says lightly. "Though I suspect she may have gained a reputation from her part in the death of our former Patrician. That hardly narrows it down, though."

Everyone wants a say in how to run the city. Except for Havelock. (He wants to actually do it.)

Aria blows a thoughtful spit bubble, and jumps when it pops.

"Mmm."

Rather an interested mmm, as these things go. Puck may or may not have been apprised of the situation with the previous Patrician, but by now he has assuredly forgotten it.

"In which case," he muses, "I suppose 'tis simply among those unpleasant circumstances that one can never entirely avoid."

It's entirely possible that the subject never came up.

"Hmm," Havelock agrees. "Not that I don't intend to thwart any attempts. It mould be most inconvenient to lose her."

There's also the fact that she's his only surviving relative, and he's rather fond of her, but that's clearly less important.

"Inconvenient, yes," Puck says with a sympathetic nod. "I have long been of the opinion that those fortunate enough to be gifted with relations ought not to be overly cavalier about them."

"I try," Havelock says gravely.

"Which is why I had a question for you. Obviously the children would need to be cared for, but would you be interested in escorting her to a ball a week or two hence?"

This is not Havelock pimping out his boyfriend. It's... well, it's not that, okay?

Puck's eyebrows arch.

"A ball?"

Well. He guesses everybody needs a little time to unwind. Especially when people are paying money to have them exhumed.

"Yes. She insists she must attend, and accompanying her myself would be counterproductive, as I intend to cover her from the upper gallery."

Also, that would be weird, but that thought actually didn't occur to him.

It would be weird. Puck makes a bit of a face at the idea.

"I suppose I might be induced to put in an appearance," he allows graciously. "Do you imagine her ill-wishers will act in so public a venue?"

Havelock shrugs.

"I have done. It's not unknown, and as I suspect her home will shortly be ruled out as too dangerous to attempt... If they want her gone so much, they will try. The Guild would not attack her out in the street, but in a previously announced location, yes."

"Hmmm."

Puck looks very thoughtful. Meanwhile, Adrian looks very sleepy. (Apparently, subterfuge tuckers him out.)

After a moment, Puck nods.

"In which case, I am certain I should be delighted to attend." He grins. "If they are half so bold as you imagine them to be, it will make for rather a diverting sort of evening."

Havelock smiles, absently rubbing his forehead, then dropping it to reassuringly stroke the startled Aria. It's been a hell of a few days, don't you know.

"Oh, very," he says. "Thank you. I will let her know she can stop looking."

He laughs, amused.

"Has her search been very extensive?"

"I believe she has gone through her time in Ankh-Morpork in the company of many society young men."

Blank, blank expression.

"... Aha."

Puck's tone is exceedingly delicate.

"Your aunt is rather an exceptional sort of person, Havelock," he says after a moment. "I expect you are aware."

"I have occasionally thought so," says Havelock, equally delicately.

Reflect for a moment on the fact that Havelock was actually raised by this woman.

Puck is marveling at that fact at this very moment, as it happens.

Where did Havelock come from?

"I suppose I shan't cause much stir, at least," he mutters. "I believe the term for it is 'mancandy.'"

So Lilly would say, at any rate.