“Pakt would call it the spell of heritage,” Melina said. “Those of us who live in the city have contravened all the social, political, and ethnic laws we were taught from childhood. Anything you learn that young has a sort of mystical hold on you. It’s hard to shake off.” She paused, thought of something, and gave a light laugh. “Did you ever have any low-caste servants working for you? Girls from the swamplands where they have those atrocious nasal accents?”

“Yes,” said Nolan. “But my mother only hired the ones who had a more cultivated speech. There were vocal coaches, I know, who made a living training low-caste girls to speak like high-caste servants.”

“Exactly,” Melina said, nodding. “Ours could talk like the Higher Hundred, too. We had one woman who had been employed by my mother since she was about fifteen. She spoke more beautifully than I could. But I happened to be nearby once when her sister and her cousin came up to visit her, both of them talking with that awful swampland accent. In less than a minute, Lelia was talking exactly like them—same inflection, same word choice, same intonation. It was amazing. And I think you and I do the same thing when we’re back with our birth culture. We pick up the accent. We revert.”

“This seems to go a little deeper than speech,” Nolan said.

Melina smiled. “It was a metaphor, silly boy. Of course it goes deeper than speech. But you’re also smarter than Lelia, and you can see what’s happening to you. And you can make an effort not to alienate your coworkers who wonder why you’ve suddenly become a snob.”

That made Nolan look over at her sharply. “I didn’t mean—”

“Relax. I told everyone you were missing your girlfriend. But that doesn’t mean they won’t notice if the only one you talk to is your blueskin social equal.”

“Well. Right. What can I—”

She came to her feet. “We ordered sandwiches to eat in my office. I ordered one for you, and the food’s on the way. Will you join us?”

“Of course,” Nolan said, standing as well. “Just do what you can to make sure I’m not rude to anyone else.”

She laid a mock fist against his cheek. “I’ll whop you on the head,” she said affectionately. “Is that subtle enough for you?”

“Yes, thank you. I’m sure no one else will notice.”

Everyone but Cerisa was in Melina’s office. Colt and Hiram had managed to pry open two of the windows, so a shredded breath of the fresh spring breeze was able to curl through the stuffy room. The mingled smells of bread, meat, cheese, and onions made Nolan realize how hungry he was.