Chapter 7

“And I’m ten times more cynical.” He took the hand away from the wall and ran it through his hair, rumpling autumn-brown waves. Bits of gold dust tumbled, startled, to the ground; his hair, she thought, would be even darker without the decorations. “And you care about other people—including the ducklings here at Court—and you aren’t trying to flatter me and I actually rather like you. That’s a good start, I’d think.”

“I’m cynical,” Kit said. “I’m very cynical. I didn’t even want to be here tonight.”

“No, you were out walking exotic worlds, learning them step by step, beneath your feet…” He gave her a smile: lopsided, rueful, almost sad. “Why the survey missions, the IESS? Why not the Home Guard, making connections, if you truly wanted to rise through the Fleet?”

“I don’t like politics,” Kit said. “Too ugly. I could leave right now.”