Alina's hand goes up to her collarbone, to the bones protruding there. It's a little disorienting, having to point them out. He must be used to strange appearances. But it also affords her the luxury of at least a moment's privacy to withhold it and say, "It's a long story."

She's had enough people whose names she doesn't know think they know it, too, so she doesn't offer more.

Instead, "The Zlatniki are the Duchess' most fanatical loyalists. They think we're trying to usurp her or something, so they've decided anyone who's not Rubean is an enemy." She shakes her head. "We're not. At least, not as far as I know." Not that people would tell her if they were, given her history.