He escorts me through the Pavillon de Flore and up the back stairs to the palace. Then he opens a door and everything is light and color.

The ball is a seething tangle of bodies, spread out over two floors off the central Pavillon de l’Horloge. I pause for a minute to appreciate the giant chandelier, which sends sparkling light over everybody. It’s said to be the greatest chandelier in all of Paris, even all the world. Perhaps one day I’ll steal it and it will hang above Tomasis’s head in the Shining Court of the Thieves Guild. But tonight, I have a mission; the last piece of my plan must be set in place.

Everybody who’s anybody in society is present tonight: nobility, royalty, foreign dignitaries and ambassadors.

A footman walks past with a tray. I reach out and grab a glass of pink champagne and take a sip. It’s delicious, light, bubbly, and sharp. I survey the ballroom through the bottom of my glass and count the number of servants circulating with trays of champagne, detailing which entrances and exits they use. Twenty guards in blue livery stand, two at each door. I frown. From the corner of my eye I spot a uniform of blue with shining brass buttons. A member of the Sûreté. I count four Sûreté agents in all. They look conspicuous and ill at ease.

I choose the youngest one, a black-haired boy too thin for his uniform but with the right fresh-faced foolishness to tell me what I need to know. I plunge straight into the crowd, letting them bump into me and turn to apologize. My hands are quick, my smile is enchanting, my manners are irreproachable. I make my way to the other side of the hall, pull out the fan that I just acquired, and, fanning myself, approach the young officer.

“Bonsoir, Officier,” I say in a coy undertone.

The boy looks alarmed that I’m speaking to him and goes slightly pink.

“I’m looking for the lovely red-haired inspector. She told me to meet with her ten minutes ago, and I can’t find her anywhere.”

I flutter my eyelashes and gaze at him hopefully.

“Inspector Javert will probably be occupied for some time more, mademoiselle,” he answers in a low voice. “She’s in a meeting in the Salon de la Reine.”

I make a face. “I’ll wait. I’m not in a rush,” I lie, though it is, in fact, most inconvenient that the inspector is here at the Tuileries when I need her to be ready to play her part in my schemes.

I thank the officer prettily, then turn and almost walk right into … St. Juste?

For a moment we stare at each other. He’s dressed in dark wine velvet with a white-and-gold cravat.

His mouth is slightly open as his eyes travel from my head to my feet. “Well, you look entirely different.”

“What on earth are you doing here?” I hiss, tucking my hand into his arm.