Teo tapped her shoulder twenty minutes into their walk and nodded at a groove in the wooden fence that surrounded the mansion. He slid into the groove and withdrew a set of clothes from the bag he carried. The clothes were cheap imitations of the actual company’s uniforms, the label stitched onto clothes taken from the Dom by a seamstress who lived in Teo’s apartment and had done the job for ten kors. They could only hope the uniforms would be convincing enough to fool Kouta’s servants, hence why nighttime was better for the kill.

While he changed, Aina kept watch. A rustle of clothes, a grunt as he tried to fit into trousers that were too small, and he was done.

“Here,” she said, passing him the fake cleaning company identification card.

Cold air brushed her shoulders as she changed next, taking off her gray jacket, bloodstained scarf, and slim-fitted shirt, stuffing them into Teo’s bag and throwing on the blouse and apron he’d brought. They rearranged their weapons, stuffed the bag in the groove, and set off.

After slipping past the fence, they hid behind the copse of trees where the carriage usually parked, then stepped into view.

Lights from countless windows shone down on them as they marched up the front steps like they owned the place. They lazily flashed their fake badges to the servants, who gestured for them to enter through the tall oak doors. As they stepped into the entrance hall, Aina raised an eyebrow at Teo. Even the janitors here had doors opened for them. Then her eyes moved to the interior of the house for the first time, and her composure shriveled in awe.

It looked as if the Hirai family had robbed a museum. A glistening marble floor spread away in circular fashion with amber clusters embedded in patches. Between shimmering gold panels ahead, vases decorated with herons, cranes, and chrysanthemums stood atop marble plinths.

They had no idea where the doors led, but they had to start somewhere. As they slid one door open and entered a wide hallway, with royal-blue paint and gold leaves decorating the walls and interspersed by light bulbs in cages of silver vines, Aina pressed close to Teo. Being near this much wealth made her uneasy. She was suffocated by marble, drowned by gold, until they entered another hallway with two people walking toward them and chatting amicably.

It was a man and a woman, the latter of whom wore a maid’s uniform similar to Aina’s. The man’s breath caught for a moment as he examined the newcomers. Aina and Teo waited for them to make the first move.

“Excuse me, who are you?” asked the man in a voice that failed to be polite. “Did Spennard send new people again without telling me? I’m sorry, but you’ll have to go home.” He shrugged in a way that told Aina he was very much not sorry. “Can’t afford to be paying every sad-looking girl who walks up with a dustbin and a pretty face. Go on, go home, I’ll have Spennard place you somewhere else tomorrow.”