At midnight, Seris took them to the Royal Palace.

Lyra stared.

"We're breaking into the palace?"

"No."

Seris handed them two masks.

"We're attending a party."

Kael sighed.

"I hate parties."

"You hate everything."

"I don't hate everything."

Lyra looked at him.

"You hate pears."

"That's different."

The palace was magnificent.

Thousands of lanterns illuminated the ballroom.

Musicians played from floating balconies.

Guests wore elaborate masks.

Silk gowns.

Jewelled coats.

Feathers.

Silver crowns.

Lyra wore a midnight-blue gown Seris had somehow acquired.

Her auburn hair was pinned loosely with silver ornaments.

Kael wore black formal clothing with silver embroidery.

When he saw her, he stopped.

Lyra noticed.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You're staring."

"I know."

She smiled.

"You look nervous."

"I am."

"Why?"

"You look beautiful."

She became quiet.

"Thank you."

He offered his hand.

"Dance?"

"You said you hate parties."

"I do."

"You hate dancing too."

"Yes."

"Then why?"

He smiled.

"Because you're here."

They entered the dance floor.

The music swelled.

They moved together.

Slowly.

Gracefully.

For a few moments, they were not fugitives.

They were simply a man and woman dancing beneath a thousand lanterns.

Then someone approached.

A young prince wearing a white mask.

He bowed to Lyra.

"May I?"

Kael's expression changed.

Lyra noticed.

She smiled mischievously.

"Of course."

Kael stared.

"You cannot be serious."

"I am."

The prince led her away.

Kael watched.

Seris appeared beside him.

"Jealous?"

"No."

"You're gripping your glass hard enough to crush it."

Kael looked down.

The glass was cracked.

Seris smiled.

"Very convincing."