“You must not mind, Lunzie. He has so many friends!”

She fingered the necklace she wore, which Lunzie had admired without considering its origins. Zebara gave the singer a quick hug and guided Lunzie away. When they were out of earshot, he leaned to speak in her ear.

“I could have said, so does she, but I would not embarrass such a great artist on a night like this. She does not like to see me with another woman, and particularly not a lightweight.”

“And particularly not after that role,” said Lunzie, trying to stifle her jealousy and be reasonable. She didn’t want Zebara now, if she ever had. The emotion was ridiculous.

“And I didn’t buy her that necklace,” Zebara went on, as if proving himself to her. “That was the former Lieutenant Governor’s son, the one I spoke of.”

“It’s all right.”

Lunzie wished he would quit talking about it. She did not care, she told herself firmly, what Zebara had done with the singer, or who had bought what jewelry seen and unseen, or what the Lieutenant Governor’s son had done. All that mattered was her mission, and his mission, and finding some other way to accomplish it than enduring another bout of coldsleep.

m.