But dinner, as they had both expected, was fine. Sereva’s husband, Jayson, was there, of course, and her two sons. Impossible to dislike any of them, even on moral grounds, though in the past Kit had tried. Jayson was a pleasant, vague, unalarming scholar who could not possibly rouse anyone’s antagonism, and the boys were delightful. Aged ten and twelve, Marcus and Bascom were well-behaved, well-spoken, courteous, and bright, and for some strange reason, they adored Kit.

“Kitrini! Kitrini!” Marcus exclaimed when she sauntered through the door. “Do you want to see what I learned in school today? I can draw a—a conical!”

Kit glanced questioningly at Sereva. “Cone?” Sereva guessed. “He’s in a geometry class.”

“I’d love to see it,” Kit told him. Bascom was standing patiently beside her, waiting for her to acknowledge him, so she smiled down at him. Not too far down; he was growing at a shocking rate. “Yes?” she encouraged him with a smile.

“After the meal is over, would you play a game with me?” he asked in a formal voice. “I have several to choose from, so you can select the one that interests you most.”

It was all she could do to keep from breaking into laughter. He spoke so seriously and with such care. “Yes, I’d be happy to,” she said. “But don’t think I’ll let you win just because you’re one of my two favorite nephews.”

“Actually, I’m not really a nephew,” Bascom said, his brow furrowing as he tried to decide exactly what she was. “Because you’re not my mother’s sister.”

Kit waved a hand. “Close enough. We’ll pretend. I’ll even let you pick the game.”

Jayson wandered up to his wife to kiss her on the cheek. “They have been talking all day about Kitrini’s arrival,” he remarked. “You would think it was the high holidays. You’ll have to come visit with us more often.”

Sereva led the way to the family dining room, a much more cozy place than the huge, elegant chamber where they did their grand entertaining. She poured drinks for herself and Jayson, but Kit shook her head. “In fact,” Sereva said, sipping a liqueur, “I’ve been trying to convince Kitrini to come stay with us a few days. Maybe if she thinks the boys will like it, she’ll be more inclined to accept.”

Kit smiled. “You make it sound like I dread the prospect. I just don’t want to get in the way.”

“Oh, no. You couldn’t get in the way here,” Jayson said earnestly. “There’s too much room to stumble over anyone.”

“Well,” said Kit, “it sounds tempting.”