I took the sealed paper and rooted in my hanging pocket for a coin, handing it to the boy. He tipped his hat and I closed the door.
I ran a finger over the sloped handwriting and the eagle seal. A tingle of guilt ran through me as I sat at the table to read my brother’s note. Ferris was currently in worse straits—not enjoying delicious food, fending off the crowds. I’d sent him fifty gold along with my address, hoping he would use the money for food—knowing that I would eventually have to tell him about the rest of the recovered money. I couldn’t trust him with it yet.
Two lines were underlined on the page. Kennen’s trial was being moved up and the negotiant’s office had been cleaned out with no forwarding address.
I tapped a finger against the paper.
“What is it?” Noble continued writing and didn’t look up.
I read him the note. He paused, his pen hovering above his parchment.
“I see that Tannett took my advice. Good. As to your brother—your younger brother—we need to delay the trial.”
“How?”
“The person to ask is holding a masquerade tonight. Loves his masquerades, the more debauched, the better. You will need to dress appropriately.”
He looked up, green eyes surveying me. “Do you have a domino or a mask?”
I clutched the note. “I do, but nothing risqué like you are suggesting.”
He waved a hand and went back to writing. “One of the tavern outfits will be more than perfect.”
My jaw dropped. “Are you insane? Who is your friend?”
“John Alcroft.”
“I can’t attend a party held by John Alcroft dressed that way,” I hissed. “People willknowme there.”
“Not if you are a tavern wench wearing a mask, they won’t.” His pen scritched across the parchment.
“But—”
The scritching halted. “Look, Marietta. No one will notice you or identify you, trust me.” His gaze swept me. “You disappear too well.”
My stomach tightened. “I realize I’m plain, but that doesn’t mean—”
“You aren’t plain. You are mutable.” He cocked his head, absently shaking my world. “Able to look however you need to depending on the situation, without alerting any spell monitors. It’s a strength. But beyond that, you make yourself disappear.” He snapped his fingers and the lines of him turned wavy, like looking at someone through rippled glass, but he was visible still. “A rare skill, and one that I envy.”
I stared at him, mouth ajar.
A smile lifted his lips, his piercing eyes pinning me. “Did you think yourself so forgettable that the people walking by you simply took no notice? It’s not all magic, of course. The physical setup anchors it all. I’ll bet on a normal day you style your hairthe same way, every day. And your black or brown dresses? The same. You probably tilt your head in the same direction to every opening conversation salvo. The way you glare and stare? The same. Rarely do you smile, I’ll bet, and have fun? Not for years.”
The simmering of the soup pot, the heavy beat of my heart.
Seen, in a way that made me feel too exposed. I concentrated on the other part of what he’d said—I couldn’t even lift aladle, and he was saying I had a skill heenvied?
“And from your silence I can see that I would win that bet easily. So tell me, Marietta. If you redo your hair, apply kohl around your eyes, and attach a mask, do you honestly think someone will recognize you? Or do you think you might be freed?”
The seconds ticked by. I was frozen. He raised a brow then started scritching again.
I wouldn’t be identified—either as the boring fringe society member I was or the sister of the Vein Ripper. I hadn’t realized my actions had become so…predictable. I hadn’t liked being out of control since before our parents’ deaths. Perhaps I had gone to the extreme.
Therewasfreedom in going to the masquerade as someone else. I opened my mouth to respond when the back door banged open.
“Lovely day, isn’t it?” A man even taller than Noble strode into the kitchen, immediately heading for the sideboard. He lifted a bowl and the ladle.
Noble didn’t look up, though he had tensed when the door opened. He shook his head, grip relaxing around the pen. “Lucian, what are you doing here?”
