× Trix ×
I get it, I really do. They’re all scared. Scared of the Nardoos. Scared of what comes next. But this? Sending me off to some fancy masked ball like I’m auditioning for the next season of “Werewolves of Wall Street” isn’t the answer.
“Okay, let’s pretend for a second that I do this,” I say, my voice cutting through the chaos and sarcasm in the room. “Let’s say I attend this ball, masked, guised, whatever. What happens when they find out who I am? What happens when they recognize me?”
The elder doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s why it has to be foolproof. Your disguise, your cover story, wverything needs to be airtight.”
“And who’s going to help with that?” Drenna asks, her tone is too sharp. “Because last time I checked, none of us here are professional spies.”
“Or tailors,” so
