At first Sereva did not believe the story. Could not believe it. “But Ariana Bayless—Cerisa Daylen—I know those women. Such a thing is not possible,” Sereva said more than once. But she looked a little less certain each time she said it. Kit guessed that she was remembering casual conversations, offhand remarks, maybe even whispered comments that she had heard over the years, small details that dove-tailed with the accusations Kit was making now.

“And haven’t there been stories,” Kit pressed gently, “alerting the gulden to a virus spreading through the city? Nothing too alarming, just a warning to seek out a doctor if certain symptoms appear?”

Sereva nodded, deeply troubled. “I heard something about it, but I didn’t pay much attention. There are no gulden in my office, so news like that rarely trickles in. I didn’t think—” She shrugged. “It wouldn’t have occurred to me—”

“It wouldn’t have occurred to anyone,” Kit said. “Not even Nolan. Even when he came across proof, he didn’t believe it at first.”

But she had pronounced that name once too often. For a moment, Sereva was able to shake off her profound unease and concentrate on matters closer to hand.

“This Nolan,” she said, watching Kit closely. “You seem to have grown fond of him. During this trip. I admit, if he did what you say, he must be an amazing man, though it’s still hard to believe—So tell me about him. What’s he like? What’s his family?”

Kit couldn’t help laughing. “Adelpho,” she said. “Fine enough even for you, I would think.”

Sereva’s eyes widened. “That’s Higher Hundred,” she said.

“Yes.”

“Not only that—” Sereva searched her memory. “If he’s the branch of the family I’m thinking of, one of them is betrothed to Analeesa Corova. They’re to be married this winter.”

“That would be Nolan,” Kit said quietly.

Sereva’s eyebrows rose. “As usual,” she said dryly, “you show your exquisite taste in hopeless men.”

Anger seemed the safest response; Kit let hers fire up. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Well, if I didn’t know you were in love with the terrorist son of Chay Zanlan, I’d say you’d fallen hard for this quixotic young indigo man who has just done the most incredible thing.” Kit came to her feet, too agitated to sit calmly. “Jex is—I’m not in love with Jex anymore. I am—he is—there is too much about him that I cannot love, that I—that I actually abhor. I know he was responsible for the bombs in the Centrifuge, I know it. And—there are other things. I never thought I would be able to cut him out of my heart, but he has done the cutting for me.”

“Making room, then, for this Nolan.”