The lady’s lips parted, then closed again as if she’d thought better of words she’d intended to speak. “As it happens, the task will benefit from your skills. We cannot afford another blundering display. This must be quiet, precise and elegant. Am I understood?”

Apara hesitated. She could refuse the commission – flee far from Tressia and the lady’s reach. But flight would solve nothing. Her life was now forfeit. Only the deaths of others could keep her from the Raven’s grasp.

“You are, lady,” she said at last. “What must I do?”

“Stay back! I mean it!”

Even knowing something was coming, Rosa had to fight the instinct to investigate. The words had just the right pitch of terror, of pleading. Never mind the navy, Sevaka had missed her turn on the stage.

Or she had a surfeit of raw emotion to excise. Rosa knew how that went.

“No! Lumestra! I . . .” The scream trailed off into a jagged, stuttering sob.

Shouts rose to fill the silence – within the Swanholt wall, and beyond it. Running feet came close behind.

Rosa pulled her half-mask into place, counted to three, and broke cover for the iron-topped wall. Three paces distant, she hurled herself into the air. Fingers strained for the railing’s crossbar. She’d just enough time to reconsider the wisdom of her actions before her fingers brushed the gilded metal. A sharp tug, a soft scuff of boot against stone, and she was over the spikes and in among the trees.

She lingered at the foot of the wall, eyes adjusting to the gloom-laden grounds. Commotion echoed from the east. The clamour of bells rose above voices as pursuit quickened.

“I hope you’re running, Sevaka,” Rosa breathed.

She shook her head. She couldn’t worry about that now. The Swanholt hearthguards wouldn’t trouble themselves with affray beyond their walls. Even now, those lured away would be returning.

She broke cover for the west wing, and the servant’s door hidden behind the terrace. What she hadn’t known was that the door would be guarded. But the guard clung too close to the lantern-post and its comforting circle of light. He was blind to everything beyond. By the time he saw Rosa coming, he was within reach.

Her fist struck home. The cry of alarm dissipated alongside its utterer’s wits. Rosa caught him as he fell. Pausing only to slip his keys from his belt, she dragged him into the shadow of the terrace wall and made her way inside.

No one challenged her as she made her way to the upper floor. Rosa hoped the guard remembered only the mask. One stint in the constabulary cells was sufficient. Either way, time was short. Another alarm would soon be raised.