The Great Hall had been transformed in a single afternoon long tables dressed in deep gold, torchlight instead of the cold electric glow Eva had grown used to, the whole room humming with a kind of determined, defiant joy that felt almost aggressive after three days of war footing. She stood at the edge of it in a borrowed dress the color of wine, feeling entirely too visible, and wondering when exactly she'd started thinking of this place as somewhere she might belong instead of somewhere she'd been taken.
"You look like you're calculating exits," a voice said beside her, warm and amused.
She turned to find a man she didn't recognize dark-haired, easy smile, dressed in the kind of effortlessly expensive clothing that suggested old money rather than new power. He inclined his head, entir
