Chapter 47
We were about to slip into the bottleneck of civilians crowding the capital’s gate when Shayde pulled me aside. “Almost forgot,” he said, maddeningly calm.
From beneath his cloak, he drew a tan-linen bundle. With deliberate care, he unwrapped it, revealing a masquerade mask that stole my breath.
The foundation—dark metal—bloomed with intricate, swirling filigree. Deep purple gems nested in the pattern, their glow catching the day’s final light like they held secrets of their own.
I narrowed in on the two pointed crests at the top. The realization struck like a soft gasp.
“It’s a wolf,” I said, breathless, as I took the mask from his hands.
Shayde unwrapped the second mask. Its colors mirrored mine—black metal and deep purple gems—but the design was different. The jewels were arranged intentionally, their shape almost resembling scales.
“Is that a snake?” I asked, genuine curiosity threading my voice.
His jaw tensed slightly as his warm brown eyes dropped to the mask in his hands.
“Thought it was fitting,” he said quietly.
Shayde switched the masks, gently placing his in my hands as he circled behind me and lifted the wolf mask to my face.
“I made these with material that should stay comfortable through the night without being too heavy,” he murmured. “It’s important we keep them on until we’re sure it’s safe.”
A shiver traced down my spine as his fingers brushed along the sides of my face, tying the mask into place. He made these?
The thought struck me like a second wind—quiet, unexpected, and deeply personal. But I didn’t have time to dwell on it. The crowd behind us was pressing forward.
I tied Shayde’s mask quickly, and together we filed in with the rest of the guests.
My heart kicked up as we stepped through Tyria’s gates, blending in as casually as everyone around us. Laughter and excited chatter swelled. Guests swapped memories of last year’s masquerade and admired each other’s masks like they hadn’t queued for hours.
Near the oversized double doors, the crowd shifted. Partners linked arms; voices dropped to intimate murmurs.
I hesitated, then slipped my arm through Shayde’s. He tensed for a heartbeat before his muscles eased and we moved in step, ascending the concrete stairs.
“Name?” a guard asked at the top.
My heart stuttered. My jaw parted slightly, and I froze. We hadn’t prepared aliases. We were about to blow this whole thing before it even started.
“Lofty,” Shayde answered smoothly, like it was the most natural thing in the world.
The guard glanced at a long scroll, eyes scanning, then gave a curt nod and motioned us forward. I didn’t breathe until we passed him. Another Tyrian took our cloaks.
We stepped into a grand foyer that looked like it had been plucked straight from a fairytale—nothing like the cold, lifeless exterior of the castle.
A golden chandelier shimmered high above, mirrored by matching sconces and gilded accents lining the walls.
The light danced across the pristine white marble floor.
My heels clicked against the surface—until one slipped.
My foot wavered beneath me, but Shayde’s hand slid over mine, steadying me before I could stumble. The tension in my arm flared as I fought to keep my composure.
He leaned in as if sharing a lover’s secret. “If I can feel how much you hate me,” he murmured, breath skimming my neck, “they will too.”
I kept my gaze on the room. “Normally, I’d laugh at being thrown to the wolves. But these wolves? I can’t tame. And I just so happen to have a poisonous snake wrapped around my arm. So yes—I may be on edge.”
Shayde snorted under his breath.
I rolled my eyes. I know—I was always on edge.
The crowd thinned as we entered a grand hall disguised as a ballroom.
The vaulted ceiling soared, its sweeping mural giving each corner to an element—fire, water, earth, air.
At the center, where they converged, hung a stunning white chandelier, its facets catching light like the Mareki Gem itself.
Dozens of floating orbs drifted overhead, casting a soft, golden glow.
I might’ve called it the most breathtaking sight I’d ever seen—if it weren’t filled with people who wouldn’t blink before killing us.
Elegance wouldn’t fool me. Any mask could hide a dagger; any smile, a lie. The music and light might lull others, but I knew better. Something sinister was happening tonight—beneath the silks, the jewels, the laughter. This wasn’t a celebration.
It was a distraction.
The music’s tempo climbed, and before I could process the shift, Shayde tugged me onto the dance floor. I barely kept up in these cursed heels as he bowed—like the other masked men—and kissed my knuckles. Then, without missing a beat, he drew me into his arms.
One hand locked at my lower back, the other held mine tight as we turned with the crowd. My chest pressed to his with every step.
“Want to play a game?” he murmured.
I looked up at him—my usual line on his lips.
The sharp cut of his jaw gave his serpentine mask an edge. His dark eyes stayed unreadable. Chandelier light skimmed the break in his nose—the one I’d given him over a year ago. Still, he moved with fluid precision, guiding me cleanly through the measures.
“And what would that be?” I asked sweetly, sugar dusting steel.
“Just for tonight…” His voice dropped. “Play the part. Pretend you don’t hate me—long enough for us to make it out alive.”
I missed a step, tripping over his foot. Shayde caught me with the arm still wrapped around my lower back, holding me steady.
“I didn’t have the pleasure of learning how to dance, Snake,” I hissed under my breath. “Some of us were too busy learning how to survive.”
He twirled me in a swift, practiced circle, then tugged me tightly against his chest. “Some of us had to learn how to survive in different ways.”
Then he dipped me low, one hand supporting the arch of my back as I let my weight fall into him. He could drop me. Right here, in front of everyone—humiliate me to the elements and spark a scene that would end in blood.
But he leaned in, close enough for our noses to almost touch, his voice just above a whisper. “If either of us can play the part well enough to survive this night…” His eyes bore into mine. “It’s you, Fitzroy.”
Shayde lifted me back to standing, but the world around me didn’t steady. My heart was betraying me—thundering in my chest like a war drum. The dancers spun in a blur around us, yet we stood still, locked in place, still tethered in each other’s arms.
To any prying eyes, we’d look like lovers caught in a spell, like a couple lost in the hush of a stolen moment.
The music stopped, and I stepped out of his arms. My chest rose and fell in quick succession as I tried to catch my breath.
“Fallon. We have a map of their stronghold,” Scarlet’s voice echoed through the marekem.
Whatever crossed my face made Shayde’s eyes widen. Without a word, he took my hand and led me from the dance floor. We slipped through the crowd to an alcove in the wall. He snagged two flutes from a passing server and handed one to me, mouthing a single word, “Rhodes.”
I gave a slight nod.
“Perfect timing,” I murmured under my breath. “Are there any suspicious rooms or doors that lead nowhere? How many levels are we dealing with?”
I brought the flute to my lips, letting the bubbles mask the tension rising in my throat as Scarlet responded.
“There are five mapped floors—but the strange part is, one level is completely missing. There’s also a sublevel, but it’s blank. No markings, no labels, nothing. Just… empty space.”
My fingers tapped against the flute as I mulled that over. “That can’t be right. There has to be something down there.”
“I thought the same thing,” Scarlet said.
“So Rhodes and I sifted through our marekem’s and cross-referenced the maps with everything we know about Mageia.
The castles are nearly identical—with only a few subtle differences.
Their marekem is open now… but Rhodes can’t access Shayde’s blocked memories from before. ”
Shayde shifted beside me, his jaw tightening. I could tell he was in silent conversation with Rhodes. His throat bobbed as he downed the rest of his champagne and set the glass aside. Then he leaned in, voice low so only I could hear.
“There was a section of Mageia’s sublevel that used to be kitchens,” he murmured.
“The Grim made me deliver drops through a dumbwaiter that looked like a solid brick wall—one of her illusions. If these castles mirror each other, and if she’s behind this drop too, I’d bet on the Mareki that’s where it’s happening. ”
I met his eyes, the weight of his words sinking in. “Scarlet, did you get that?”
A pause. Then—
“Yes.”
“Looks like we’re going down,” I said. “Lead the way.”
Shayde’s mouth pressed into a line as he offered his elbow. I looped my arm through his, and we moved with practiced ease through the glitter. No one spared us a glance—just another masked pair.
He guided us around the ballroom’s edge to a narrow staircase curling upward. We climbed in silence, my heels clicking softly against stone.
At the top, a walkway bridged the hall, offering a sweeping view of the dancers below. Music carried up, muted but steady, as masked bodies twirled—oblivious to two intruders closing in on whatever secret hid under their feet.
We passed a few couples lingering in the corridor, too wrapped up in each other to notice us. After a turn, Shayde opened a narrow door to a butler’s closet and motioned me in. The cramped space smelled of old wood and polish. He shut the door with a quiet click.
His hand grazed my shoulder as he slipped past, heat flaring beneath my skin. Without a word, he shoved a rack of dusty supplies aside, revealing a hidden door set into the wall—older than the castle, its edges worn and warped.