The sun was setting far too quickly, and it was taking all the warmth with it. It was like someone had thrown a switch, and warm breezes that had felt so nice stirring Ritchie"s hair off her sweaty brow were gone in an instant, replaced by a cold wind that chilled her still-damp brow.
"I don"t know if I could ever get used to this," Ritchie said, hugging her arms close and wishing she had brought a jacket with her. Now she knew why the diplomat cadets all carried oversized bags with them everywhere. It was only partly to haul around the variety of incompatible tablets their studies required them to use. The few other people she could see in the gardens with her and Moreau were all pulling out sweaters and scarves and carrying on as if the sudden chill were perfectly normal.
Which, for Br
