“I will lead you,” said one, as if she might honestly go astray a second time. The guard ushered her over to right set of stairs and up before handing her off to an attendant, who led her through the entryway and into the Rose Hall.

It was an impressive space, less ballroom than throne room, undoubtedly refined without being ostentatious—how far she’d come, she thought wryly, to find massive urns of fresh-cut flowers and sumptuous red and gold tapestries restrained.

A familiar captain stood near the mouth of the hall, dressed in silver and midnight blue. He saw Lila, and his face passed through several reactions before settling on cool appraisal.

“Master Elsor.”

“Master Emery.” Lila gave a flourish and a bow, stiffening her posture into angles.

Alucard shook his head. “I honestly don’t know whether to be impressed or unnerved.”

Lila straightened. “The two aren’t mutually exclusive.”

He nodded at the Sarows mask under her arm. “Do you want to be found out?”

Lila shrugged. “There are many shadows in the night.” She caught sight of the mask tucked beneath his own arm. Made of dark blue scales, their edges tipped with silver, the mask ran from hairline to cheekbone. Once on, it would leave his charmer’s smile exposed, and do nothing to tame the crown of brassy curls that rose above. The mask itself looked purely aesthetic, its scales offering neither anonymity nor protection.

“What are you supposed to be?” she asked in Arnesian. “A fish?”

Alucard made a noise of mock affront. “Obviously,” he said, brandishing the helmet, “I’m a dragon.”

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for you to be a fish?” challenged Lila. “After all, you do live on the sea, and you are rather slippery, and—”

“I’m a dragon,” he interjected. “You’re just not being very imaginative.”

Lila grinned, partly in amusement, and partly in relief as they fell into a familiar banter. “I thought House Emery’s sigil was a feather. Shouldn’t you be a bird?”

Alucard rapped his fingers on the mask. “My family is full of birds,” he said, the words laced with spite. “My father was a vulture. My mother was a magpie. My oldest brother is a crow. My sister, a sparrow. I have never really been a bird.”

Lila resisted the urge to say he might have been a peacock. It didn’t seem the time.

“But our house symbol,” he went on, “it represents flight, and birds are not the only things that fly.” He held up the dragon mask. “Besides, I am not competing for House Emery. I am competing for myself. And if you could see the rest of my outfit, you wouldn’t—”

“Do you have wings? Or a tail?”

“Well, no, those would get in the way. But I do have more scales.”

“So does a fish.”

“Go away,” he snapped, but there was humor in his voice, and soon they fell into an easy laugh, and then remembered where they were. Who they were.

“Emery!” called Jinnar, appearing at the captain’s elbow.

His mask—a silver crown that curled like spun sugar, or perhaps a swirl of air—hung from his fingertips. His feet were firmly on the floor tonight, but she could practically feel the hum of energy coming off him, see it blur his edges. Like a hummingbird. How would she fight a hummingbird? How would she fight any of them?

“And who’s this?” asked Jinnar, glancing at Lila.

“Why, Jinnar,” said Alucard drolly, “don’t you recognize our Master Elsor?”

The magician’s silver eyes narrowed. Lila raised a challenging brow. Jinnar had met the real Stasion Elsor back in the tavern. Now his metallic eyes swept over her, confused, and then suspicious. Lila’s fingers twitched, and Alucard’s hand came to rest on her shoulder—whether it was to show solidarity or keep her from drawing a weapon, she didn’t know.

“Master Elsor,” said Jinnar slowly. “You look different tonight. But then again,” he added, eyes flicking to Alucard, “the light was so low in the tavern, and I haven’t seen you since.”

“An easy mistake to make,” said Lila smoothly. “I’m not overly fond of displays.”

“Well,” chimed in Alucard brightly. “I do hope you’ll overcome that once we take the stage.”

“I’m sure I’ll find my stride,” retorted Lila.

“I’m sure you will.”

A beat of silence hung between them, remarkable considering the din of the gathering crowd. “Well, if you’ll excuse me,” said Alucard, breaking the moment, “I’ve yet to properly harass Brost, and I’m determined to meet this Kamerov fellow …”

“It was nice to meet you … again,” said Jinnar, before following Alucard away.

Lila watched them go, then began to weave through the crowd, trying to keep her features set in resignation, as if mingling with dozens of imperial magicians was commonplace. Along one wall, tables were laden with swatches of fabric and pitchers of ink, and magicians turned through pages of designs as they declared their banners—a crow on green, a flame on white, a rose on black—pennants that would wave from the stands the following day.

Lila plucked a crystal goblet from a servant’s tray, weighing it in her fingers before remembering she wasn’t here as a thief. She caught Alucard’s eye, and toasted him with a wink. As she lapped the hall, taking in the main floor and the gallery above and sipping sweet wine, she counted the bodies to occupy her mind and keep her composure.