Anla pouted her bottom lip before smiling. “You’re looking so wonderful tonight, and now you have to cover your face with a mask.”

“At least you’re used to it,” Caudin said, looking out the window of the carriage. “I’m surprised you don’t ask me to put one on now and again for old time’s sake. Maybe not something shiny, but a feathered number or a harlequin in diamonds. I might be persuaded, you know, if you ask nicely.”

“You’re very, very nervous,” she said, taking his hand. “This is different from a contract, then?”

“Yes. Far much more at stake. Before I only had myself to worry about. Now, the whole damn country.”

“It will be fine, ainler. This is just a formality, an arrest for men who don’t know they are cornered.”

“It’s the cornered part that worries me. Will they be men or animals?”

“You’ve fought both before. You are prepared.”

“But, then I had little to lose.”

Caudin looked out the window and Anla knew he was going to be pensive for the rest of the ride. She rose and saddled over to the same side of the carriage as him, grabbing his arm and lacing her fingers with his. He looked back at her, smiled weakly, and went back to looking outside.

She knew it was more for him than nerves. She had watched as her husband spent upwards of eighteen hours a day speaking with people, planning and plotting for what was about to happen. They’d gone over all the details dozens of times. They’d prepared for issues and problems. She knew he wasn’t worried about the plan going wrong, but the plan going right.

Suddenly, he sat up straight and reached for his mask. “We’re here?” she asked.

“We’re here.”

The carriage slowed, halted, then the driver opened the door a minute later. Caudin stepped out and offered his gloved hand. As it was the last day of the year, it was customary to wear dark colors, so his suit was a charcoal gray that matched her own dress and lace petticoat. They wore matching gold masks that covered the top half of their faces in a sloping design that made sure to obscure more than most people’s masks.

They stood in line behind a couple she was sure was one of their dukes. Anla held polite conversation with a few others, coyly speaking behind her gold-etched fan. When it was their turn to present their invitations, she caught him staring forlornly at the palace. She rapped him on his arm and he pulled the black paper out of his coat pocket.

“It’s our first time,” she explained to the servant, who nodded and took the invitations, read them to another servant, and waved them inside.

“Sorry,” he said once they were far enough away. “I didn’t think it would have that much of an impact on me.” He closed his eyes and inhaled once they were inside. “The smell…”

“I understand, but you can savor it later. We have a mission.”

“I’m all right now, just bowled over.” He cleared his throat. “I’m onto the business.”

Black velvet roped off rooms and ushered people to the left. After a moment, Caudin seemed assured in the direction and walked with confidence. “Not the Main Ballroom, then, but the Northwest.”

“Does that mean anything?”

“It’s smaller. Makes for a more intimate party.”

And he was right; it was packed. The room was awash in the outfits of blacks, grays, navies, and deep browns and greens, pockets of people chatting. Music played, but the numbers didn’t correspond to any dances and it was barely audible over the crowd.

They stood at the edge of a group and listened as a man in a raven’s mask told an amusing story about a hunting trip. He lacked any blue in his outfit, a sign of a Royalist, and so was likely a Kalronist. The two laughed at the right parts and Caudin made a few witty comments with the group, but they didn’t speak to him and moved on quickly.

An hour passed and they finally made their way to the front of the room where a heavily surrounded man drank and laughed with his friends, none of who wore blue. He was short, fat, and balding, three traits accentuated by his pasty, sweaty skin. Caudin squinted, then straightened suddenly.

“What is it?” Anla asked.

“The Chancellor,” he said once they moved aside. “Here I thought he was some instigator from the masses, a mayor or teamster who was a good leader. I didn’t know I knew him.”

“Who is he?”

“Thierin Yaskit. He was one of my father’s secretaries. Makes this whole impoverishing the country worse, since he knows how to handle money.”

“He still does, just to his own coffers.”

Caudin frowned, then nodded.

They listened as the group brought up memories of things that had happened, of meals, of drunken nights, of women. “Speaking of such,” one of the hangers on said, “there is a beautiful woman I’ve had my eye on for some time now.” He gestured to Anla and she opened her fan in fake modesty.

“How can you tell? I’m masked.”

“I find it hard to believe that a woman would possess such grace,” he said, letting his eyes wander down her figure, “like you do and not also be at least comely to look at without a disguise.”

Anla noticed Caudin clenching his jaw and tightening his fists. “Well, my husband knows the truth and that’s all that really matters,” she said quickly. “And he’s usually easy with the compliments.”

“And who is your husband? I’ve never seen you before, so you must be new and he must not be as connected as any one of us. We can get you things, my pet. Jewels, sweets, furs, beautiful dresses, whatever you desire. Perhaps you just wish to help elevate your status in the party. Think on it.”

“Caudin Alscaine,” her husband said.

“What?”

“You asked who I was and I am responding. I am your king.”

There was a few moments, then laughter before the Chancellor spoke. “Ah, you’re that impostor who’s been beating the masses into a lather. We were warned about you.”

“I know,” he said. “I know your sources. I let you know I was coming, though I’m sure you were expecting me to make an attempt next week.”

Yaskit swigged his wine. “I don’t know how you got in, but no bother. Guards!” he yelled.

The plan had been to wait until midnight when everyone shed their masks. It was a neat and romantic gesture that had been lobbied hard by Al and Jemerie. Caudin couldn’t be too upset that the plan had been foiled.

Captain Corpresti himself rushed over. “Yes, sir?”

“That man is vexing me,” he said, waving his pasty hand in Caudin’s direction. “Have him put in the cells until I can think of what to do with him.”

There was confusion on the guard’s face, doubt, consideration. She’d seen it before with her friends in Hanala when they returned to a place they had once received money or food from, but were kicked every other time they had returned. Corpresti wanted familiarity. He knew that he had a job here and that he was still being paid. His family was still secure. Maybe…perhaps…

“Now!” Anla yelled before he could change his mind. It took a few moments for the Royalists to realize the change in procedure, but they did as they were told. Throughout the hall people stopped what they were doing, reached up and removed their masks. They said nothing, only turned to face the Chancellor and his men at the head of the room.

“What is this?” the Chancellor asked, genuinely surprised.

“These are my people,” Caudin said, taking off his own mask, “not yours. We are taking back what is ours.”

A few of the smarter men in the group had already slunk away from the group only to be caught by guardsmen at the exits. A half-dozen were left standing in a room of about two hundred people, a fifth who were foreign dignitaries and thus unreliable, and the majority people who loathed them.

“You can’t do this!” the Chancellor said, finally recovering.

“Do you mean we can’t take the country back from inept idiots who have run it into the ground?” Caudin asked. “You took this country by murdering my family with a pittance of rabble and called it a glorious victory, as if murdering little girls could ever be honorable. Then, you impoverished this country and drove it to desperation all for your own gain. You sit fat and content in your stolen palace while the people starve, die ill, and are murdered for what little they have. How long did you think it would be until someone took it away from your incompetent hands?”

“Guards!” he yelled, but they stood still, their faces impassive only because they were professionals.

“What do you have to say for yourself? How could you do this to your own people?”

“How could I do this to them?” he yelled, his face red. “It’s not my fault that they are lazy and refuse to do work!”

There were disapproving murmurs from the crowd before one of the Chancellor’s colleagues spoke with a bit more polish. “You think us monsters but we’ve done everything we could to save Arvonne. We’ve set up work houses and bought surplus goods that have rotted. We’ve set up charities and have given away a considerable amount of our money, from our own pockets! We’ve done all we can to help save Arvonne, truly we have. There is no work and no trade deals, nothing that is our fault. We’ve tried endlessly-”

“You’ve learned that running a country is hard, then?” Caudin said, interrupting that man’s savior speech. “Perhaps it would have been wise to never have tried. Eighteen years, now. Eighteen years you’ve had to figure it out and what have you to show? Lavish balls like this one and fat, greasy chins that you wipe with gold cloth? You have ruined this country!” he shouted. “No more. Guards, take them!”

They snapped at attention and hooked their arms around men who were almost all surprised. They fought and cursed, but no threat was going to change the odds of three hundred to ten.

Save one threat. Anla yelped and straightened her back, straining against the man behind her. “Your wife, Your Majesty?” the man behind her mocked. “Not a princess, if I’m certain, but also not my concern. You will allow me to leave the palace and I promise not to harm her. Agreed?”

Caudin felt his heart squeeze in his chest as he locked eyes with his wife. They hadn’t counted on this, but still, how could he have failed to protect her? He almost charged the man, knowing full well that there was a good chance that he would kill her when he was done with her regardless, but he read Anla’s lips. She said two words: trust me.

The past year and a half came back to him like a man grabbing his lapels. She had her magic, she could do this. She survived for years on the street. She dealt with some of his contracts practically by herself. Hell, she’d rescued him several times. She’d asked for this before, back in New Wextif in the carriage. She could handle herself, she had said, and he needed to trust that she could do it.

“Stand back,” he said, putting his arms out. “Let him go.”

“Richad!” the Chancellor spat. “You could’ve helped us.”

“So sorry,” he said, sidling to the back of the ballroom, “but he’s right. It’s time we gave up. I’m going to cut my losses and run and I only have one hostage.”

Caudin watched her, his breath in his throat, but she seemed rather calm for the situation. She even smirked before they back out of the room. “Go after the Queen!” Jemerie yelled to the guards.

“No!” Caudin said and the guards stopped. “We wait. Get all the others together, two people to each man. Anyone not wearing the sign needs to be cordoned off and assisted, as we planned.”

A few of the Royalists stood around him, watching the same exit he was watching. “Sire, if we send some guards, we’ll be able to surround them and extricate the Queen.”

“No,” he said, though he wanted very much for someone to overrule him. He’d do it himself. “When I spoke to you and argued for you to accept my wife as Queen, I told you she was more than just a woman with a dazzling smile and a pretty face. She’s smart, she’s capable, and she’s very persuasive. She’s going to walk through that door any moment with Richad subdued.”

They stared, the room as quiet as one could expect in the circumstances. Every moment was agony, but at least she didn’t make him wait long. She walked back in, unrushed and unharmed. Caudin broke decorum and ran to her, embracing her by pulling her face to his chest. She moved away and held his face in her hands, smiling. “Thank you,” she said softly before kissing him. “I know it scared you, but you don’t know how much that meant to me.”

“Don’t think you’ll be able to test me again,” he said. “I’m never letting you out of my sight.”

Just then a dark-skinned guard brought forth a squirming man to kneel before Jemerie and Caudin. “We caught a runner.”

“Nicely done, Wizard. Lachab, is it?” he asked the man.

“How dare you? I am a patriot of Arvonne and a very rich man-”

“Who is about to have his assets stripped from him,” Caudin finished. To Corpresti he said, “This one gets three.”

A goblet of wine was thrust into his hand and he realized there were quite a few people surrounding them. “I still say the midnight reveal would have been better, but at least this gives us a few hours to celebrate on someone elses tab,” Jemerie said.

“It would be criminal to let the food and wine go to waste,” he admitted, chugging half his cup to calm his nerves. “We deserve this after all the hard work we’ve put in…which we’re back at tomorrow.”

“Hear that, folks? Drink up! It’s back to the grindstone at dawn’s light!”

Caudin took a moment to survey things, not a grin but a serious look on his face. “This felt too easy,” he finally said.

“We prepared for this,” Anla said. “And I wouldn’t call be at knifepoint ‘easy’.”

“No, you’re right, but I thought this wouldn’t work, that I’d have to escape with you somehow.”

“This was just an elaborate arrest.” She watched as he downed another glass and plucked another off a tray carried by a confused servant. “You didn’t want this to work.”

“I did…” he protested.

“You are still terrified of being Caudin Alscaine. You wish things could be simple, like what you’ve known your whole adult life. This masquerade was it, the manacles being locked around your wrists. Now you have no choice. You have to lead instead of plan.”

“Mmm. I think you’re partially right. It’s less the lack of freedom and more the expectation that what I planned will fail. That’s what I’ve known my whole adult life, how to correct the mistakes I always make. It’s still foreign to me that my plans are not only supported, but helped by others.”

“You’ll have to get used to it.”

“I know. You, Al, and Tel were preparing me for it, though none of us knew it.” He finished the steel wine, held out his hand, and said, “Come. We need to speak with the dignitaries and calm them. They picked an unfortunate night to be in Arvonne.”

A few kind words helped most. There were a few who were so indignant at being accused of treason and detained that they would never do business with Arvonne again. Caudin cared little for them; they were likely in the pocket of the Kalronists anyway. His concern were for the ambassadors and diplomats, especially those speaking on behalf of very powerful monarchs.

A dark-skinned man and his wife were waiting patiently to speak with him. “Your Radiance,” he began with a bow.

“Soon, Your Excellency. I’m missing an official coronation before I can have that title.”

He nodded from his neck. “I am Kalokar ast’Restali and I speak on behalf of Empress Mayasena of the Empire, Sire.”

Caudin grinned. “Kalokar, yes. I remember you from court. You had recently won a sword-dancing competition and performed in front of the royal family. Truly breathtaking to watch.”

He blinked rapidly then smiled. “You honor me, Your Radiance.”

“How is the Empress? I do confess that I’ve missed her all these years.”

“She is well, Sire. I know for a fact that she has mourned your apparent death all these years.”

“Express to her that I would love to see her again soon.”

“I will, Sire, I most certainly will.”

The exchange between the ambassador from Sayen was much different. As was typical of Sayenese people, he spoke in a cool aloofness, rarely smiling. “I can’t figure out what he was trying to say,” Anla said after they had spoken with him.

“I’m sure he was trying to say two things with one word.”

“It’s nicer when people are more plainly spoken, like Kalokar.”

Caudin smirked before taking a sip of his third glass of wine. “Oh, but he did the same thing. It’s not necessary to address the king twice as ‘Your Radiance’ in a conversation, just as ‘Sire’ or ‘Sir’. He did so after I reminded him that we had met before and he used that address to solidify his belief that I am the King of Arvonne and I am who I say I am. Two words, one heavy endorsement.”

“It’s difficult,” she said. “It sounds duplicitous, like a lie but not the same noise.”

“You’ll get used to it, especially knowing your talents.”

Banter was starting to pick up again and the confused bandleader struck up some traditional Arvonnese tunes. At some point they played “Reverie” and the whole room sang along to it. At least that’s what Caudin thought. By his fifth or sixth drink things were quite hazy for him.

He gave a toast just after midnight, something which must have been pleasing since the crowd roared with applause. Having done his duty, he stumbled out of the hall and began walking once familiar corridors.

Anla had been speaking with Al and Telbarisk for a few moments, then realized her husband was missing. The three left and looked around for him.

“Trail him,” Al suggested and she cocked her head to concentrate before laughing lightly.

“He’s stumbling drunk,” she said, following her husband’s staggering gait.

After several turns down dusty corridors and stained carpets, they arrived at a room with an open door. They peered into a massive room with a large bed, large closet, and attached bathroom that hadn’t seen any use in a long time. Ripped curtains hung off the windows, allowing a little more light from the lit grounds to pass through. On the bed, face down, was a man in dark clothes.

“And I thought your bedroom was large, Al,” Anla whispered, walking quietly to the bed. She sat next to Caudin and moved his hair off his forehead. “Ainler?”

He murmured.

“Do you want to go back to the hotel?”

In response, he grabbed her waist and pulled her next to him on the bed. “I think I’m going to sleep, guys. Good night.”

“Good night,” Al said, wandering off to find a place for he and Tel. Before he did, though, he took a moment to stop, look around, and grin.