“But surely you would,” said a hawk-faced older woman with a low, commanding voice. “You danced with him for ten minutes.”

Kit took a deep breath and loosed it on a lie. “I don’t think so,” she said. “I was too nervous to take in too many details.”

“Aliria, then,” the woman said. “Surely she could identify him.”

Everyone agreed loudly with that, seeming relieved and purposeful at the thought of some definite action. “We’ll tell Ariana Bayless in the morning.” “Yes, Ariana’s the one to handle this.” Kit hesitated, opened her mouth, then said nothing. It didn’t matter, anyway. The guldman, she was sure, had already put himself beyond their reach. He had satisfied his honor and shamed the indigo girl. Now he would retreat to Gold Mountain and shun the city the rest of his days.

“At any rate, all’s well now,” one of the men said. That pronouncement too won its supporters, and the crowd around Kit began to dissipate. But not before a round dozen stepped forward to pat Kit on the back, or reach for her hand, and tell her again how brave she was, how foresighted, a remarkable girl, splendid. She was numb with the night’s many twists and turns, its public events and dark undercurrents. She shook their hands, accepted their thanks, and with her eyes begged Sereva to take her home.

*   *   *

Worse was to follow. Worse by Kit’s standards, anyway. Having become a heroine, she must now be lionized. Emron Vermer was not the only indigo to come calling at her grandmother’s during the next few days. She was visited by no less than twenty of the brightest lights in indigo society, all of whom had been present at the ball, all of whom raved about her quick actions and ready wit. Fortunately, she was not required to say much during these sessions, since she couldn’t think of a clever or witty remark to save her life. But her grandmother presided over all of the visits, glowing with a fierce satisfaction, and she was able to make all the necessary Candachi contributions to the conversations.

Even Aliria Carvon came to offer careless thanks, seeming much less chastened than Kit would have expected. “I thought it would be more fun than it was to dance with a gulden man,” Aliria said in such a disappointed voice that Kit could hardly keep from staring. Then the heiress laughed, shook her head, and laid a restless hand briefly on Kit’s arm. “But I find myself hoping you’re around the next time I decide to be outrageous. I do believe I have you to thank for saving my life.”

*   *   *

But the Higher Hundred, it turned out, were not the only ones to approve of Kit’s dramatic intervention. The day after Aliria came to call, a note came to Kit at the charity bank in the Lost City.

From Jex.