“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?”

“I don’t think it is.”

“Such a relief,” she said dryly. “It’d be a little late for you to decide I’m immoral. Are we done talking about me? Because I want to show you something.”

“But I need to know the rules.”

“Rules?” She widened her eyes. Laughing, she said, “Are you asking for a handbook on the seduction of women? It is an art, Nirrim, not a science. Oh, you didn’t like that. Such a scowl! Are you going to stamp your foot?”

“You make light of everything.”

“I make nothing too heavy to bear.”

“I am not asking how you make women love you.”

“Who said anything about love?”

“I need to know the rules here in the High quarter. If they’re different from what I grew up with. All the rules.”

“Well, all the rules is quite a tall order. Let’s start with the one you keep tiptoeing around so delicately, like you’re going to offend me, which you won’t, probably, unless you do decide I am a deviant monster, which some people do, but none whose company I care to keep. It is not against the law in the High quarter for a woman to be with a woman or for a man to be with a man. No one is going to prison for it. I’m not sure why it’s different in the Ward, except that the Council wants the Half Kith to make babies. To build up the workforce, I imagine. Here, beyond your wall, the High Kith are concerned with concentrating wealth within families, which means having one or—at most—two children. And the High Kith care most about pleasure, so they don’t mind others seeking it. Are there some who might look at me with dislike? Yes. Will they get in my way? They had better not. Even that lord who had me arrested for thievery probably cared less that I was a woman than that his wife had played him for a fool. Now. Are the rules clear? Need we talk about people hating me?” Her tone was airy, but her dark eyes now had a hard, lacquered look to them. “We can do that if you want, but it’s an ugly topic for a pretty day.”

“No.” It hurt to think of anyone hating her. “I want to see what you want to show me.”

It was a tree, set apart from the others, smaller, wizened—and, oddly, with patches of gold on its trunk. I walked barefoot across the grass to it, sandals still dangling from my hand.

Grass. I scrunched my toes in it. It prickled against my heels. I had never seen so much grass—just stray pale strands creeping up from the dirt between the Ward’s cobblestones. The lawn felt cool and plush. Its green looked deep and inevitable. It smelled like rain’s sister. I wanted to bury my face in it.

The tree’s leaves swam in the wind. The trunk’s gold patches gleamed in the shifting light.

“This tree,” Sid said, “will tell your fortune.”

I looked into her face to see if she was joking, but her expression was serious. She was cast in roving leaf shadows, her skin honeyed in the dappled sunlight.

“So there is magic,” I said. “Like in the tunnel.”

“Not sure. That river is essentially a potent liqueur. The picnickers are drinking a version of it. It alters your perception. A magic river that carries you along without dragging you under?” She lifted one hand, palm up. “Or”—she lifted the other hand—“a conveyer belt operated by hidden machinery and shallowly covered with an intoxicating liquid that, even if you don’t drink it, might nevertheless affect you? Take this tree. Maybe it’s being tended to by an artist—horticulturist?—who writes fortunes on strips of bark and seals them back onto the tree. Do you want to have your fortune told by a tree? Tear a bit of bark away.”

I hesitated. “Will I hurt it?”