“Getting started without you.” She slid out from under the piano and stood, brushing herself off. She was dressed in Middling clothes, though without regard for how she would dress if she were in fact a Middling woman. The trousers were a tight fit, made for a man, and although the dark blue tunic had a feminine cut that nipped in at the waist, it was free of the simple embroidery that a Middling would normally flaunt as a sign of minor status. In the buttery yellow lamplight, I could see details that I hadn’t in the moonlight outside the prison: the fullness of her mouth; a freckle beneath her eye; her proud posture; the skin that was a few shades lighter than mine; the eyelashes surprisingly thick and black, a contrast to her fair hair. I could see that even in good light, it would have been easy to make the same mistake I had in the darkness. It would be easy to think she were a boy, if I only glanced once. But I couldn’t believe that anyone would glance at her only once.

She smirked. “You’re staring.”

This was different from her friendly arrogance in the prison. There was an anger to her that seemed directed at me even though I had done nothing to deserve it.

She slid her long hand inside the open mouth of the piano, feeling around inside. The strings hummed and twanged.

“Do you play?” I asked. In the Ward we were allowed only little wooden flutes that played simple melodies. I knew what a piano was only because I had read about them in books at Harvers’s printing shop.

Sid shuddered. “Not on your life.” She roughed up her short golden hair, frowning into the instrument.

“I suppose you’re no good at it,” I said, “and don’t enjoy something where you have no opportunity to show off.”

Her gaze snapped up. Her black eyes narrowed.

“I didn’t come here to be ignored.” I wasn’t sure what allowed me to give voice to the resentment brewing in my chest. Normally I wouldn’t, to anyone. “I risked punishment going through the wall to meet you. I wandered for hours trying to find this place because you left no directions. So tell me why I’m here and what you’re doing or I will leave.”

Her expression changed, screwing up with rue. She scrunched her eyes shut and covered her face with her hand. “Directions,” she groaned. “I didn’t give you directions?”

“None.”

“I thought you would recognize the address. I thought you must come to the Middling quarter all the time.”

“The last time was my first time.”

“I am such an idiot.”

“You are,” I agreed.