Not a single lord came to mind.
But two men, one tall and thin and the other with broad shoulders… no. It was impossible. Wasn’t it?
“Was one of them wearing spectacles?” Vaasa asked.
Regína seemed to take careful note of that detail, leaving Vaasa anxious at the thought. But when the madame nodded, Vaasa could hardly breathe.
“Thank you,” Vaasa said.
Regína pursed her lips warily. “You be careful, you hear? Those lords, they’re no regular monsters.”
Vaasa nodded, her adrenaline reaching a peak. “I will,” she said, then hurried back into the main rooms, desperate to catch another glimpse of the Icrurians at the table.
CHAPTER
20
Vaasa went from room to room until she found them again, though by the time she returned, there were only three people remaining: Sachia, Vlacik, and Karev. Her pulse quickened, entirely out of control. The full view of them was covered by drapes that hung from the ceiling, looking like an art exhibit all on their own. She found a couch and stretched herself across it comfortably as she spoke with a few of the patrons. A merchant’s daughter, they probably assumed. Spoiled. Immodest. She made up some story about her recent travels to a coastal territory, having assumed these men had more in common with the Old Asteryans than the New.
A few of the women joined the lords’ table as time passed. One slid her hand down Lord Vlacik’s chest, fingers drawing circles on his shoulders. He was lost in the trance of it, and soon enough, the two excused themselves through a set of doors that led to one of the staircases Vaasa knew granted access to the private suites on the upper levels. Perhaps Vlacik’s room was reserved for that exact reason and nothing more.
Sachia leaned in closer to Karev, the two now whispering. Vaasa forced herself to look away, to maintain some semblance of nonchalance.
This place and its norms weren’t unfamiliar; Vaasa had snuck here quite a few times during her young adult life, mostly with Roman and his friends. She thought of their fight for only a moment, not allowing herself to get caught up in the memory.
She bided her time, conversing with the women, who had grown more comfortable in her presence, though when they realized she was unlikely to pay them herself, they moved on. She kept her secret glances at Sachia as subtle as she could, doing a few turns around the main room and gazing upon the gallery portraits as if they were real and she was nothing but an admirer.
Someone sauntered up to Vaasa’s left, the way he held himself distinct and familiar. Gray eyes looked down at her. “I don’t believe we’ve met,” Lord Karev said quietly. It was certain—his voice and his eyes were too recognizable, even beneath a red opera mask. “You don’t look like any of the women who work here.”
Slipping into another accent was second nature for Vaasa, and she did so with the same gusto she once had used to convince entire rooms of her father’s guests that she was able to confidently speak their language; that she wasjust like them. The way she spoke concealed her true voice. “Don’t you think it’sa bit pathetic that you’ve memorized all of the women who work here?”
Lord Karev grinned, only half his mouth visible beneath his mask. “Apparently, not all.”
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Sachia scurry toward the double doors that led to the stairs. For only a single moment, the woman looked up, and their gazes locked.
Vaasa looked away.
She wanted to kick herself. Her entire plan seemed to crumble through her fingers. If she followed Sachia now, it would tip off Lord Karev. If she didn’t, she might never know who those men were. She’d hoped Karev would excuse himself and give Vaasa the opportunity to speak with Sachia at the table first.
The sound of a door opening drew her attention immediately, and she almost cursed under her breath. A man walked through those doors. Though he wore a costume coat and had even changed his boots, Vaasa knew damn well who it was. He donned a familiar mask made of crow’s feathers. Each time they’d met here, he’d disguised himself as that very bird.
Roman.
Someone must have found her gone.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, turning to leave. Shit, shit,shit.
“Here for someone, then?” Lord Karev asked, eyes lifting to where Roman had just entered.
“We all have our hidden tastes,” Vaasa purred, shielding the sound of her voice once more and moving out of his orbit. If she had any luck, he would believe her some random woman waiting for a forbidden love she couldn’t have in the daylight.
Vaasa fled the room through the double doors and ascended the staircase in a hurry, hiking her dress up so she could run faster. Her only choice was to try and explore the second floor, to—
A hand gripped her arm, pulling her away from the stairs while another covered her mouth before she had a chance to speak. She’d only caught a glimmer of him—a hard body and short hair, his features covered by a full face mask. Her back fell harshly against his chest, and the door next to them opened. The two of them went spilling into the room. She tried to pull away, but his grip on her was too secure, and then he pressed his back against the door, holding it closed, still locking all of her against all of him.
A voice rose and broke on her name, so quietly spoken in her ear. “Vaasalisa.”
Her body froze. It had been so long since she had heard her name in his voice, and this time it wasn’t unfamiliarity or anger that rode the words. It was salvation, thick and piercing, in how he let the entirety of it spill from his lips.
