“This way.” The Invierno opens the door and ushers us through a short hallway into a long dining room with a curved ceiling. Blue glass lanterns line the ceiling, casting the walls of the dining room in something like moonlight. A porcelain vase in an alcove overflows with blooms, filling the room with the scents of freesia and lantana.

Several attendees are already seated at the table. Conde Astón of Ciénega del Sur glares at me in challenge as we enter. There can be no doubt that Valentino’s father blames me for his son’s failure.

Beside him is Lady Jada, the mayor’s wife. As usual, her black hair is tied back too severely into a neat chignon. Jada can be frivolous and unintelligent, but Elisa has always valued her kindness and loyalty. Her smile toward me is warm, which I am happy to return.

Next to her is Lady Carilla, who waves at me while grinning brilliantly, and it takes all my discipline to resist waving merrily back. She is short and plump with a small overbite and a weak chin, not nearly as beautiful as the young women Rosario usually spends time with.

Whenever the girls at court have been kind to me, it has always been a ploy to get close to Rosario. I’ve wondered if Carilla is different, if given time and slightly different circumstances, we might have been friends.

At the head of the table is the prince himself, and he stands as we enter. He is wan, with dark circles under his eyes, but his carriage is strong, his stride confident, as he approaches.

“Thank you, Sergeant,” the prince says. “I’ll escort these recruits to Guardsman Fernando and make sure they are returned safely to the barracks later tonight.”

DeLuca opens his mouth as if to protest, but changes his mind. “Yes, Highness, of course.”

“This way.” Rosario guides us through a door at the end of the dining room and into a small kitchen. The area is warm with a busy hearth and milling with servants. My mouth waters at the scent of fresh turnip slices soaking in salted lime juice.

Rosario shoves us into a corner behind a shelf of dry storage. “Listen,” he whispers once we’re out of sight. “Fernando is not here tonight.”

“Why not?” I whisper back.

“Then who is your acting Guard?” Iván says.

“You are.”

“What?” I whisper, too loudly. “Is Fernando—”

“I’ll explain later. For now, just listen. You will stand behind me at either shoulder. Do not let anyone except Carilla approach close enough to touch me. Serving staff have been instructed to hand items to you, and you will in turn place them before me. Understood?”

My heart is ferocious in my chest. Something terrible has happened. “Of course,” I say.

“Whatever you need,” Iván says.

“I don’t expect any trouble tonight,” Rosario says. “Truly. But we’re going to take precautions anyway. Ambassador Songbird is aware of the situation. He’ll be sitting on my right, across from Carilla, as an additional buffer. After dinner, we’ll talk more. Now, let’s go.”