Surely they couldn’t be that lucky. “You’re sure it wasn’t some sort of trap—” he said warningly.

“Well, of course anything is possible,” she replied. “But he wasn’t expecting a Herald, or Aleirian, and, well—Alberich, I know that kind of man. I ran into them all the time when I was a girl and my best friend was the prettiest girl in our quarter.” She sighed, and for a moment, that good humor and sparkle faded. “The first time, and even the second and third, that a handsome boy came and poured that kind of charm and flattery all over me, I fell for it—but after three times of being fooled and finding out that they were only being nice to me because they wanted to meet my friend, I became immune to it.”

His mouth formed a silent “Oh.”

She shrugged. “It’s one of those things that plain girls learn, Alberich. You just get used to it after a while. Well, your lad Norris might be one of the best in Valdemar at charming people, but someone like me—” She shook her head. “Actually, he’s never encountered someone like me, I suspect, because we won’t throw ourselves at him; we know better. He’ll never even see the plain ones who are on to his little game—they might be at the performances, and they’ll certainly admire his acting ability, but so far as lingering on the off chance they’ll meet him, it will never happen. So he looked at me and saw a plain, frumpy little mouse with a little mouse’s job, who looked at him with eyes of adoration, and figured he knew exactly what I was and how he could use me. And best of all, he wouldn’t have to actually do more than give me a bit of attention, because someone like me would never, ever expect someone like him would want to romance me.” The cynical laugh she uttered at that moment made him wince, and he wondered then about the young girl in lenses who’d been tricked three times by manipulative boys. “Oh, no, a crumb of attention to cherish in the darkness of my little closet of a room, that’s all he needed to give. I’d be his slave forever, and never demand anything out of him.”

“Myste—” He swallowed. “I apologize.”

She started, and stared at him. “For what?” she asked.

“For people like him.” He shook his head. “I am sorry.”