“What about a way to sneak in?” Jude had asked. “A secret entrance or something?”

“There’s only one way in, through the main gate. And as for sneaking, you’ll be far too conspicuous. Especially you,” the captain had added, with a glance at Hassan. “You’re very recognizable.”

It was that comment that had given Hassan the idea. If they tried to sneak inside and someone recognized him as the prince, his whole cover would be blown.

Unless, of course, being the Prince of Herat was his cover.

“Huh,” Hector said, when Hassan emerged from the closet dressed in an elaborately cut emerald brocade overcoat embroidered with gold thread and fastened with a row of gleaming buttons. A silver sash and delicate gold chain around his neck completed the ensemble. He looked exactly like a spoiled prince.

“What?” Hassan asked peevishly.

“No offense, those clothes make me feel like punching you,” Hector replied. He looked thoroughly believable as a Sentry cadet, filling out his light blue uniform emblazoned with a white olive tree.

“You should,” Hassan said, realization striking.

“What?” Hector looked briefly scandalized.

“Well, it should look like I put up a fight, right?” Hassan pressed. He raised his chin. “Come on. Hit me.”

Hector looked extremely unconvinced. “All right. But just remember, you asked me to—”

“Just hit me already—” Before Hassan knew what was happening, Hector’s fist cracked across his face. Hassan let out an involuntary whimper of pain.

“Oh, that looked like it hurt.”

“That was way harder than it needed to be.” Hassan glared, holding a knuckle up to his now-bleeding lip. “Behezda’s mercy.”

“Sorry.”

“Did you hit Jude that hard?” Hassan asked, wiping off the blood.

“He didn’t ask me to,” Hector replied defensively, a shadow of worry crossing his features.

Hassan gripped Hector’s shoulder comfortingly. “Jude will be fine. As long as we stick to the plan.”

“I know. Hard not to picture him locked up in that cell all alone, though.”

“Yeah, well, that will be our fate if we don’t pull this off, so save the worrying.”

“It’s not just that,” Hector said. “It’s also … seeing Beru again. After all this time.”

Hassan understood. He felt a pang, imagining how he would feel if he knew he would be coming face-to-face with Khepri for the first time in over two months. Even more nervous than Hector was now, undoubtedly.