Kat had eleven letters drafted by the time the inn served breakfast, and the twelfth one was the problem.
It wasn't the workshops. Coppara would say yes, Bettola's two would say yes, and the interior plates would say yes because Drava had already told them to. The problem was the line at the bottom of every Pavona contract she'd ever signed, the one she'd read a hundred times without caring:
Distributed under Consortium license, Compasso Accademia, Pavona.
[The school sold it. I did in name-only.]
