Dion pointed at the rolling cart. "Change."

Ruby stood, her eyes shifting from the Prince to the velvet cloth. She pulled the fabric back, revealing a heavy gown and a set of jewelry.

"Move," Dion barked. He checked the hallway. The gap between the trial and the ball was closing... the Queen's eyes were everywhere.

Ruby scanned the open room. Her eyes met his. "You want me to change... in here?"

Dion's jaw tightened. He shoved the cart and the girl into the dressing room without a word.

Minutes ticked by. "Done?" Dion snapped at the door. "Not yet," Ruby's muffled voice responded.

Dion leaned against the frame. He stared at the floor, his fingers tracing the patterns in the rug. The image of the blue silk from the Lunar Prayer flashed across his vision... the way the light caught the gauze.

The door groaned open. Ruby stepped out in a thick, rose-red gown. No lace, no shimmer. Just a common cut that would vanish in a crowd.

Dion's eyes swept over her. "The other dress?"

"In the closet," Ruby said.

Dion snatched the blue silk from the rack. His fingers tightened on the warm fabric. A flash of violet flame erupted from his palm. Ruby lunged forward, her hand outstretched, but the silk was already a pile of grey ash.

"What are you doing?!" Ruby shrieked. She'd liked that dress.

"No evidence in my quarters," Dion replied. His voice was a flat, cold rasp.

He pulled a fresh cloth from his pocket, the silk dripping with dark red. "Hand." Ruby pulled back, her fingers curling into her palm.

Dion caught her wrist. His gaze was a dark, heavy weight. "You know the price of safety".

Ruby gripped the wet silk. The scent of copper and sugar filled her nose. It was fresh... he'd opened his own skin again for the disguise.

The pipe organ thundered. The Great Hall pulsed with the rhythm of a thousand predators. From the royal dais, the heads of the nobles merged into a sea of lace and gold.

Sachester sat beside the Prince. White satin draped over her frame, crimson diamonds catching the light—the mark of House Murdoch. She glanced at Dion's perfect, silent profile.

The Prince stared at the ceiling. He had territory, a military seal, and a new title, but his fingers drummed a restless beat on the armrest.

The opening notes of the waltz hit the air. Dion didn't move. Sachester looked toward the Queen's empty throne.

The King smiled at the crowd, oblivious to the silence at his side.

Felix leaned toward Sachester's ear. "Highness... the Prince's footwork is a disaster tonight. You might regret the floor."

Sachester's shoulders dropped an inch. She didn't want to drag a novice through the crowd in a thirty-pound gown.

"I see. But the opening dance?"

"Prince Brian will lead with the Blood Bride," Felix whispered.

Brian Lancaster stood. He took his bride's hand and led her to the center of the marble floor.

The hall branched into three wings. Dion steered Ruby toward the left side-hall. "Stay in the shadows. Move with the crowd".

The handkerchief in her hand was soaked. Double the blood of the last mission. Dion watched her disappear into the mass of silk.

Dion caught Felix's eye. He jerked his chin toward the side-hall. "Watch her. Don't blink".

Dion's knuckles turned white against the stone railing. He could have locked her in the library. He could have used a Bewitchment Spell to freeze her heart.

Instead, he had dragged the evidence into the center of the Queen's court. He remembered the way Ruby's eyes flashed with fire when she was angry... he just wanted her close.

A maid in the Queen's colors stepped forward. She bowed low. "Highness. The Queen requests you in the Crystal Hall".

"Fine." Dion stood without looking at Sachester.

The girl watched him walk away. "Pretty face," she muttered. "Terrible manners".

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The Crystal Hall sat like a tomb of glass and velvet... the Queen's private sanctuary for the elite.

Dion stepped past the guards.

Queen Bellaceline occupied the master throne, her silks shimmering under the heavy crystal chandeliers.

"Mother."

Bellaceline offered a thin, sharp smile. "You're here. Sit."

"Yes."

A man sat to the Queen's right. Brown hair... a familiar set of shoulders.

Dion took the opposite chair. The man stood and bowed, his movements a perfect line of aristocratic grace.

"An honor to meet you, Prince Dion."

The voice... the scent.

Dion's head snapped up. His pupils shrank to pinpricks as he locked onto the face from the Solara Palace bedroom.

Jacob's eyes flickered for a heartbeat before his mask settled into a polite, empty smile.

"This is Duke Jacob Vraj," Bellaceline said.

Vraj. An ancient, lethal name.

Dion's jaw locked. Ruby Kingsley had tangled herself with a wolf.

Was he a spy? A shadow sent by the Queen to watch his every move?

Dion traced the rim of his porcelain cup, his knuckles turning white against the gold trim.

Jacob took a slow sip of tea. The little prince... Dion Lancaster.

Jacob's grip on the saucer didn't waver. He should have known.

Why was the younger prince in the bride's quarters every night?

"Duke Vraj commands an army. They've spent decades submerged in the human realms," the Queen said.

She looked at Dion, her red eyes unblinking. "Talk to him. Learn."

"Yes, Mother."

"The Duke is young for such... achievements."

Jacob gave a short, jagged laugh. "The Prince is too kind."

"The Elder Duke was our first shadow in the West. Jacob took the mantle when he passed," the Queen added.

Dion's brow twitched. Vampires didn't just pass away.

"You are distant cousins... though Jacob hasn't seen Châtelet in years. You'll be staying in the city?"

Jacob turned to the Queen. "I will, Majesty."

"Visit the palace often. Dion needs a brother's guidance. Brian is... occupied."

The news had arrived with the silver seals. The Vraj military power was Dion's birthday gift.

Jacob watched the Prince. Why hand over the swords now?

Jacob bowed his head. "It would be an honor to haunt the palace halls."

Dion's back teeth ground together. Now the messenger had a key to every door.

Ruby trusted this man... she had lied to protect him.

Was he a double agent? A ghost in the machinery?

Dion looked at Jacob's hands. The answer lay in the Elder Duke's grave.

He couldn't tip his hand. Not yet.

"Duke Vraj. Ride with me tomorrow. I have fresh horses in the stables."

Jacob's eyes narrowed for a split second. "I'm at your disposal."

The Queen dismissed them for the next wave of nobles.

They stepped into the hushed stone of the corridor. No servants. No witnesses.

"Ruby Kingsley isn't your fiancée," Dion rasped.

Jacob's face remained a blank slate. "I don't follow, Highness."

Too perfect. Too controlled.

"Tomorrow. Don't be late." Dion turned and blurred into the dark.

Dion hit the ballroom floor. His pulse hammered against his ribs.

Jacob was in the court. He would find her.

Would they run? Vanish into the fog before the first bell?

Sachester watched him, her brow furrowed at the shifting colors in his face.

Dion didn't see her. He stood and vanished toward the side-hall.

A flicker of magic masked his royal features. He stepped into the left wing.

The noise hit him—a wall of whispers and flute music.

He spotted Felix in the shadows, his face an anonymous mask.

Dion followed the guard's gaze.

A splash of rose-red fabric caught the light.

Ruby was laughing, her hand covering her mouth. Her eyes were bright, the fear gone.

Opposite her stood—Jacob.