The night was a flurry of drinks, dances, and dresses to Mydea. Before long the midnight bells tolled and some of the stoneborn retired to their rooms—Prince Pelias most notable among them—thinning out the crowd. No one had yet managed to guess how she appeared to float above the floor, and some of the theories put forward had become truly ridiculous.

“Perhaps it’s similar to the magic which keeps Aelisium afloat?” said one particularly inebriated woman with an uneven crow’s mask. Lady Talia Nomikos, if her nose was right. Mydea recognized the smokey scent of her perfume from when she’d invited the girl to her tea party.

It really was surprising how much people relied on appearance to hide their identities, as if sight alone was the only sense available to others.

“I’m afraid I’m not Her Highness,” Mydea said.

“Not even the Empress’ family knows of those magics,” said Lord Adamm Morne. Recognizing the young man had been a stroke of good luck admittedly. His mask had slipped slightly while dancing with Princess Mirah, and Mydea caught a glimpse of his aquiline nose. There weren’t many lords of the right age present who were aligned with the Dunelander Princess but weren’t Dunelanders themselves.

Once she knew who he was, pinpointing his sister Lilith was child’s play. Mydea had given the unpleasant girl a wide berth after she’d egged Mydea and Miryam into a duel at Princess Mirah’s party. While Mydea had her sword, she didn’t particularly care to get dragged into yet another needless feud.

Speaking of feuds, Princess Lille and Mirah were at it again after the former returned from who knows where. Princess Lille had managed to pry Mirah’s date, the Pyrian Prince Cleo, from her grasp. It would be a point of conversation around the tea table in the coming days no doubt.

A man dressed in dark blue silks approached the little cluster gathered around Mydea.

“Another curious soul coming to guess at the dress,” noted Adamm.

“I can’t say it’s the dress that keeps my attention captive so much as the lady it graces,” the man replied. He held out a hand to Mydea. “May I have this dance, my lady?”

Mydea humored him, and let herself be led towards the dance floor. He was a head taller than her, and his mask was fitted tightly over his face.

“You’ve become quite the popular figure this evening, Lady Mydea,” he said as they joined hands and swayed to the music as one.

“You have me at a disadvantage then,” Mydea replied. She was twirled on the spot. “How did you figure me out so quickly? We’ve only just spoken.”

“I may have cheated,” he confessed. “I asked Lady Greenglade who you were.”

There were few things that could be done to evade a Greenglade’s gaze. Mydea’s smile was all teeth as she stepped on his toes, completely by accident of course. To his credit, he didn’t even wince. “I’m surprised she gave me up so quickly. I see she’s already well-versed in the signature spell of her namesake.” She hadn’t ever spoken with Daphne Greenglade, and could hardly imagine that the girl held a grudge against her already.

“She’s a fine young woman,” her partner replied perfunctorily. “I may have had to dance to loosen her lips.”

That means you’re someone she wanted to dance with, Mydea thought. There weren’t many people she could think of that fit. As a house external of the Everbloom, Daphne was of prestigious pedigree even among nobility. Mydea’s eyes flitted across the room, taking stock of those she’d figured out, those she had a decent guess on, and those yet unknown.

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“It hasn’t been more than a minute and you’re already eyeing other people. Do I bore you so much?”

“I’m trying to guess who they are behind the mask.”

“Some would say the fun of a masquerade comes from not knowing.” Ironic, after what he’d done.

Mydea’s brow curved upwards. “That’s what someone too stupid to play would say.”

He winced. “Fair.”

After another closer look, there wasn’t anything about his outward appearance that stood out to Mydea. Am I missing something? she thought. He’d made a point to ask for a dance after knowing who she was, and had never even tried to unravel the mystery behind her dress. He seemed to be here for her, and that was perhaps the largest hint of all.

She was not, after all, drowning in suitors.

He couldn’t be from the Deeplands—she’d have recognized him by now. Who would Lady Greenglade want to dance with? Who would any lady wish to dance with?

An unwed prince, of course.

“For someone who isn’t courting me,” Mydea said softly, “you seek me out quite too often to be coincidence, Tomas.”

He smiled at her. “I couldn’t resist one last dance. After the masquerade, the masks come off.”

“For everyone else maybe.” They continued to circle around the room. “But even that face must feel like a mask to you by now.”

His grip on her tightened, and Mydea knew her true guess had landed. “How did you know?”

“How could I not?” she scoffed. “You’ve not been trying to hide it at all. You stumped me for a while because I could sense no glamour, but tonight was an excellent reminder for me. There are more ways than one to borrow another’s visage.” The how still eluded her, but not the who.

Ignoring candidates, alienating his master’s own allies, openly favoring herself—taken together, these were not the actions even a most trusted valet would take. There was that inexplicable confidence too in everything he did, as if he was Prince Jaeson himself.

Because he was.

Daphne Greenglade would have known this too, and it made her ardent pursuit of Tomas all the more sensible now. Trading away a favor for a dance with a valet would be beneath her station as well.

Jaeson laughed, and his eyes flickered into silver. “I’ve been right about you since Aigis. Kolchis will be ascendant with you by your brother’s side.”

“I appreciate the confidence,” Mydea said. That was confirmation at least that he’d spoken truly the other day. He did not intend to wed her. Gods be merciful, she’d never leave this city alive with a lovestruck prince.

“I can’t help but notice you don’t seem keen on asking me why I did it.”

Mydea dipped her head. “There are some secrets better left alone.” Knowing would only involve her deeper into the many schemes of the House Imperial.

“Syngian would be disappointed,” Jaeson teased. “There is one evil and one virtue.”

“I’ve never been the most virtuous woman. You can ask my father,” Mydea said. “I presume you’ll keep your word from the other day, and keep your distance in the days to come?”

“I’m a man of my word. Besides, it would not do to have others think I’m keen on you. You do have to go home sooner rather than later. Kolchis still needs you.”

“You could have ensured I never left from the start,” Mydea pointed out.

Jaeson frowned. “Believe it or not, it was not my choice to extend an invitation to your family. I’ve had words with the woman responsible, but they tend to be stubborn about this sort of thing.”

A necessity for the Empress, Mydea thought. Who else could supersede a prince but Her Highness?

“I can only wish you the best of luck then, Your Excellency,” Mydea said as the song ended, and she curtsied to him.

“Luck rarely has anything to do with it,” Jaeson said, “but I appreciate the sentiment.”

From there their paths came apart.