“Good, Miss Neven,” he said, amused. “I am glad Mr. Madigan could whet your memory. Now, if you will excuse me.”

My hand slipped from his elbow as he rejoined the countess. I continued to stand, stranded. My father sensed my stare, his eyes rising to meet mine.

He appeared just as surprised to see me, his mouth going slack. If not for my mother guiding him away, distracting him with a flute of champagne, I’m sure my father and I would have fought in the countess’s ballroom, ruining my guise for good.

Even Imonie paused, setting a tense gaze on me. I almost went to her; she had always been my refuge, a safe place for me to call home. And yet tonight she was like a stranger.

Ignore them, I told myself. You have never seen them before. . . .

The ice thickened in my chest. I was cold, calm, poised. A girl with a stone trapped in her ribs. And then I felt his stare.

My eyes scanned the ballroom until I found Phelan nearby, standing in one of the archways, draped in shadow, watching me. I wondered how long he had been leaning against the frame, observing my precarious walk around the room. But the moment our gazes met, the glittering, firelit world faded around us. There were only shadows and a path that connected him to me, a path that felt treacherous to walk in the sense that it might undo me.

His face was smooth of expression, his eyes inscrutable. I wanted to know what he thought of me, when he had started to suspect I wasn’t who I claimed to be. And I didn’t know if he planned to expose me, or if he would ever forgive me. I told myself not to care, but a small fracture was within me now, and my regrets began to trickle through it.

Even the deepest of ice eventually gives way to fire, Mazarine had once told me.

I turned away from Phelan, unable to look upon him a moment longer.

I found my way back to Nura and Olivette, who were in high spirits.

“Oh, there’s Phelan,” Nura said, looking beyond me.

“Why isn’t he joining us?” Olivette wondered, waving him over. “Have you spoken to him yet, Anna?”

“No.”

Nura exchanged a swift glance with me before saying, “I’ll go speak with him.”

She left me and Olivette, and I tried to focus on conversing with her, but my worries tugged, and I watched Phelan speak to Nura across the room. He was saying something solemn to her. She frowned, listening. And then she glanced back to where Olivette and I were standing, and I thought for certain he had just exposed me.