“Of course. I rather enjoy offering lessons like that. I think the aspect that people often overlook of our Mother Mortanne is that she’s patron of horses and carriage drivers. For all that people see here as austere and distant and cold, she delights in foals frolicking in the fields, and simple deliveries being taken across town.”

Degas smiles wryly, noticing that he doesn’t need to point out where he’d sat. “Though of course, you might invoke her for other reasons, given your…everything.”