"Idiot," she says fondly. She's getting accustomed to Gideon liking to look at her; to not being able to ignore her naked skin. It's a counterbalance to the way she always feels about it.

Barefooted, she pads into the bathroom and waves at Gideon to follow. She takes out the kit that came with the room; a block of soap that produces a lather so creamy and light it's probably sinful to use, a wooden bowl, a soft brush. A shining cut-throat straight razor; no safety blades for the Ninth House.

Every time she looks at it she gets flashes of her own kit, back in Canaan House; the human leather case, embossed with the jawless skull of the Ninth. Her mother's razor, handle etched with the nine-pointed star of the Nova line. She shakes her head, clearing it.

"You can do this, right, Griddle?" she asks. "I know we never made you shave yours."