"It's the King, of course." And it's late at night, before Enjolras and Bahorel have a moment to speak alone, not-sleeping-yet in rather comfortable hammocks on they covered porch they'd chosen as sleeping quarters over one of the tight-packed little houses. "And the ghosts. The kids talk about it, when they don't know they are. The last king--the good king, hah, the last king was always good, funny that-- he did something to settle the ghosts. Far as I can tell, it was just leaving them the hell alone, but anyway it worked. And now this one has them riled up again. Something to do with those stones. The kids say the stones keep the ghosts quite, but the king wants them for his big house."

Bahorel laughs a little. "That, I think, sounds off; I'll trust a child for ghost stories, but they don't know much about trade and architecture. Ah, but it's all magic here, so who knows? A king has more reason than most men to want the ghosts around him settled.--Anyway, the ghosts are real enough, and they're coming thicker, and that's all I've heard for reasons why."

(It is, of course, nosy of him to be prying around about these things. But if he and Enjolras are going to be able to help here at all, they have to learn what they can. And of course they're helping if they can. They're here. Given that,the only possible question is how, not if.)