Sid opened her eyes. “Let them stare.” She shifted onto her side to look at me better, propping herself up on her elbow. She studied me—waiting, maybe, for me to notice that her leg was still languidly between mine. When I said nothing, her expression got slow and searching.

“Won’t we … get in trouble?” I asked.

“For what?”

I shifted my body away from hers.

“Oh,” she said. “For that.” She stood abruptly and offered a hand to help me up. Her touch was capable and brief. “You needn’t worry. People get spat out of this gate all the time. It’s entertaining to watch. The High Kith are staring because they are amused at our awkward tumble.”

“That’s all?”

“Well, and because of how you’re dressed.”

I glanced down at my earth-colored clothes.

“Many of them have never seen a Half Kith before,” Sid said. “I doubt they even believe you are one. They probably think you are disguised as one for fun. Sometimes that happens here.”

“Why would anyone look poor for fun?”

Sid shrugged. “They get bored with being rich.”

I shook my head. It wasn’t that Sid was wrong, but that what she had said made me realize a more complete answer. “Dressing up as someone like me makes them feel even richer,” I said, “because they are not me.”

Birdsong floated across the lawn. Crystal glasses tinkled. Someone giggled, the sound softened by the wind. Trees were everywhere: immense clouds of pink flowers, green-and-yellow-striped blades, branches lush with leaves and trailing white veils of creeping flowering ivy. I knew that trees were quiet things. But I had seen only one before, and the sight of so many was overwhelming. They clamored for my attention. They were a gorgeous roar of color.

I looked behind me for the white familiarity of the wall. It steadied me. Its height comforted, its stony length. The wall held my home. I fought the impulse to reach for it, to lay a palm against its solid warmth. It would be hot in the sunshine. But I was afraid that Sid would tease me … or worse, pity me.

I turned back toward the park and its host of lords and ladies. A child played, pulling at the grass, her fanned skirts lavender tulle, her dark hair curled into long, bouncing coils.

No one was watching us anymore.

Sid tipped her chin in the direction of the hill. “Come on. I want you to see something before I take you to my place.”

“I meant something else.” Nervousness raced through my chest. “When I asked whether we would get in trouble.”

“Oh?” She lifted her brows in pretend surprise. “Were you worried that we looked … inappropriate?”

“I would have gotten in trouble, in the Ward. I might have been tithed.”

She stopped looking amused.

“It’s against the law,” I said.

“I see,” she said slowly. “Why?”

“Because it’s wrong.”

She blinked. “Is it?”