There should be a warning label for when midnight is about to get emotional.
I didn’t realize how late it was until Lira appeared at my elbow with a goblet and disaster in her eyes.
“Almost midnight,” she sang over the music. “You ready?”
“Define ‘ready,’” I said, a little breathless from the last dance. “Because my feet are done, my boobs are rebelling against this corset, and I’m one questionable decision away from taking my shoes off in a royal hall.”
Nyre slid in on my other side like a very glamorous shark. “She means the Unmasking,” she said. “At the last chime, everyone removes their masks. No glamours. No illusions. For a moment, everyone is only themselves.”
“That sounds terrible,” I said. “Can we not?”
Soren materialized with perfect timing, because apparently they traveled
