One of the informants was the boss's personal runner, a young man named Trent. He sought her out, explaining to one of her people that he was once loyal to her father, but couldn't accept Jareel's coup like he was meant to. Suspicious of him, Emma would give him duties through a middle-man. She didn't want to reveal herself and have this guy come out as a triple-crosser. He was useful though, and slowly proving himself. It had been a few weeks since her father's death, and Jareel was having a party to congratulate himself. Trent had mentioned that Jareel expected her to go and try something, so had set up a trap. Emma's plans didn't involve gatecrashing a party, but upon hearing this news, she decided she couldn't miss it.

Upon finding that her stuck up nemesis's idea of a celebratory party was to throw an olden days-style ball, Emma was less enthusiastic about attending. Nevertheless, she found herself sitting in the chair of a blabbermouth stylist, insisting that even though she said she'd wanted to look as different from her normal self as possible, she didn't want to dye her hair. Dressing up was already far out of her comfort zone, and Emma wasn't about to do something semi-permanent just to spy on Jareel.

When it was done and she finally had the courage to look into the mirror, she was impressed with how well the stylist had done. Her face framed by golden curls, rather than her usual straight-but-messy style, made a huge difference to her appearance. The face staring at her from her reflection was still her own, but a perfect disguise, especially when combined with her look of surprise instead of her usual scowl. It wouldn't take as much of Frank's magic as she had thought to be sure that no one would recognise her.