“You’re not my friend,” Sereva said. “You’re my family. I would love you no matter what you did. No matter how much I hated it. And, just in case you judge her too harshly, that’s one of the lessons I learned from Granmama, along with how to run a vast estate and how to behave in a room of mixed races. I love you, and she loves you, and even though you’re not one of us, you’re one of ours. And someday maybe you’ll live long enough to appreciate that.”

“I appreciate it,” Kit said a little gruffly, feeling strangely chastised and slightly defensive. “It just suffocates me sometimes. I haven’t changed, Sereva, just because I’m living with Granmama here in the city. I’m still my father’s daughter. I haven’t suddenly grown respectable.”

Sereva laughed and reached for the door. Light from the hallway showed her face genuinely amused. “And I wouldn’t expect it,” she said. “You will continue to astound us all, I’m sure. I have no illusions about that.”

They stepped into the hall, took the elevator to the basement garage, and climbed into Sereva’s waiting limousine. The driver, an indigo boy whose mother worked on Sereva’s estates, nodded at them shyly. “Good evening, hela Candachi,” he greeted Sereva with the courtesy title, then repeated it for Kit.

“Good evening,” Kit replied, climbing in.

“Yes, good evening, Simon,” Sereva said. “Take us home, please.”

Simon put the car in motion and it purred forward out of the garage. Kit, who was used to relying on public transportation, had to remind herself sternly that she did not endorse or enjoy the privileges of the rich. “It might take a while,” Simon said over his shoulder in an apologetic voice. “Traffic is still terrible because of Chay Zanlan’s visit.”

Sereva made a small tsking sound of annoyance, then shrugged and smiled. “Well, I suppose we’re not the only ones inconvenienced for the pleasure of Chay Zanlan,” she said.

“No, indeed,” Kit agreed suavely. “Delays on the Centrifuge were hours long this morning, and I’m sure they’re just as bad tonight.”

Sereva shuddered slightly. “The Centrifuge. I can’t imagine how you can actually ride that thing every day—”

“I like it. I like to see how fast I can go and make the other cars get out of my way.”

“Don’t even tell me. I don’t want to picture you risking your life in that stupid way.”

Kit laughed. “Well, the Centrifuge is pretty safe. I think it’s been three years since anyone died in the tunnels.”

“Just the same. Maybe you should stay at my house for a few days and ride into the city with me. Until everything gets back to normal.”

“When Chay leaves?” Kit asked, stressing the ruler’s name.