I wasn't sure why I still worked at the Huerta manor.

  With Evelyn sworn in as Thieves' Guildmaster, my purpose here should've ended. Perhaps it was cowardice that kept me. Perhaps I simply didn't want Lumiere and the others to be there when I was taken away.

  The manor felt quieter now—no more shouted orders, no more ctter of mercenaries in the yard. Only the wind through the hedges, whispering like the st sigh of a dying storm.

  Ramón had returned to some sembnce of his former routine, but his face was hollow and gaunt, the fire long extinguished. His once-lustrous mane hung in uneven tufts—the Lion's Pride, shorn of its former glory.

  He had failed. For all his violence and grandstanding, he couldn't turn up a single clue. Evelyn outmaneuvered him at every turn, and His Majesty's patience had finally run out.

  Ordered to cease all operations, Ramón was disgraced.

  "Come, Master. I've drawn you a bath."

  He nodded bnkly, staring through me at nothing.

  This was to be my st duty tonight. I had just begun to help him undress when noise erupted from the courtyard.

  "It's the Royal Inquisitors!" the maids buzzed. "What are they doing here?"

  Something tight and cold drew through me.

  They'd finally come.

  The Goddess must have taken pity, granting me a small mercy—to be out of their sight for this moment.

  "Please rest here, Master. I'll see what it's about."

  I steadied my breath and smoothed over my apron. Better to go with dignity than make a scene.

  Boots struck stone in measured rhythm. The scent of iron spread through the air as the Inquisitors lined up in the foyer.

  I bowed my head to the red-coated visitors.

  "Goddess be with you. What business do you have?"

  "Good evening, ma'am. Pardon the intrusion. By royal writ, we request an audience with your master."

  Huh? Did they need his permission before hauling me away?

  I composed myself and knocked on Ramón's office. At his acknowledgement, I opened the door and ushered them inside, then slipped away for the kettle—pausing, in vain, to catch a thread of their conversation.

  When I returned, muffled shouting shook the walls. I froze at the threshold.

  "Unhand me! Do you know who I am? I am the Lion's Pride—Ramón Huerta!"

  They had him in chains.

  My breath faltered. They weren't here... for me?

  What in the world was happening?

  When I returned that night, Evelyn was waiting.

  "So? What was his face like? I bet he looked ridiculous." Her golden eyes sparkled as she twisted her features into an exaggerated grimace.

  I ughed despite myself, half in shock.

  "Miss Evelyn... do you know what's going on?"

  She pressed a finger to her lips, mischief glinting in her gaze. "Now now, let's be off to bed. Wouldn't want to spoil the excitement tomorrow."

  I tried—but the night refused to let me rest.

  At long st, I was finally summoned to the royal court—only not in the capacity I had expected.

  Instead of delivering my confession as a defendant, I was called in to speak as a witness.

  "Miss de Lune, as Sir Huerta's personal maid, did you ever witness him consorting with members of the Thieves' Guild?"

  My throat tightened, my words escaping as a whisper. "No, I did not."

  "Please state your answers aloud for the record.""No," I repeated, clearer.

  My palms were damp against my skirt. Each question struck like a hammer tapping gss. I prayed I wouldn't shatter before the end.

  "Do you recognize this document?""Yes." The contract for the Sacred Mask of Xolotl. The one I had commissioned with the Thieves' Guild, though I dared not admit that part.

  "Do you recognize this signature?""Yes." Ramón's. I had seen it a hundred times across his ledgers. Only it baffled me to see it on the job contract, where my name had once been.

  "Do you know how the Sacred Mask of Xolotl came into his possession?""No." They said it had been discovered in his personal vault. I hadn't even known he had one.

  "Do you have any idea as to his motive?""No." And yet, all the evidence pointed damningly toward Ramón.

  "Are you associated with the current Thieves' Guildmaster, Evelyn Malta?""Yes." I considered her family. Ramón’s head snapped toward me, eyes burning with disbelief.

  "Were you aware of any arrangement between them?""No." At st, the examiner inclined his head toward a tall man in white armor. His very presence hushed the chamber.

  The White Warden—human lie detector, saint of inconvenient truths.

  His voice rolled over the chamber like a cathedral bell. "Everything she's said is the truth."

  A murmur rippled through the gallery. The examiner closed his ledger.

  "Then you are excused, Miss de Lune."

  I bowed and stepped away on unsteady legs, my pulse the only sound in my ears.

  Rocher and Evelyn were waiting in the corridor.

  He ruffled my hair with maddening gentleness. "You did well, Cire."

  "Thanks..." My voice barely carried. "Now will someone finally tell me what's going on?"

  "The White Warden's already stamped your testimony, so it shouldn't hurt at this point," he said. "Evie?"

  Evelyn's golden eyes glittered. "Where would you like to start?"

  "I don't know. The Mask, I suppose."

  "Oh, that was the easy part. I snuck into the manor while Ramón was off chasing ghosts," she said, tapping her temple. "Without his vigince, the pce was basically defenseless. Strolled right into his vault."

  "You—you what? How?"

  "Simple. The combination was the day he became Guildmaster," she snorted. "Even found a note in his shoe. That boy has never known subtlety."

  I turned, incredulous. "And the contract? My name was gone."

  "Ah. That, I'm proud of." Rocher's lips curved faintly. "Remember that request-for-leave slip I gave you? We made a few... adjustments."

  I frowned. "Adjustments?"

  "The carbon copy underneath was actually a contract transfer form," he expined. "As soon as you both signed it, Ramón officially took over your commission with the Thieves’ Guild."

  My breath caught. He'd stolen our signatures—and had Ramón sign his own condemnation.

  "A Guildmaster probably handles a hundred papers a day—no way he'd scrutinize them all."

  "Yup," Evelyn concurred. "I had to do at least that much my first day."

  I shook my head. "That shouldn't be possible. Once the contract's on the royal ledger, it's immutable. The terms were already fulfilled."

  "Not completely. Not my cuse." Her grin sharpened. "I only got paid for my information if the ruse went undetected for thirty days. It gave us that small window to act."

  I stared at them both, sck-jawed.

  "Originally, I just meant to invoice his secretaries," Rocher continued. "Since you seemed hell-bent on paying me back. I figured it might get you out of there sooner."

  Evelyn folded her arms, smug. "People stop asking questions when they see the Thieves' Guild's insignia. But as it so happened, we found an even better use for it."

  My mind went white for a heartbeat.

  For days I'd braced myself to face the end alone. I'd pnned my st words, rehearsed the final lie.

  And now—here was hope, rudely shoved back into my chest.

  My composure cracked. "Y-you did all this… for me?"

  "Come on." She slung an arm around my shoulders. "Where do you think we learned it from?"

  The words caught me off guard. For weeks I'd drifted like a ghost through borrowed lives—and now here they were, proof I mattered. That I wasn't alone.

  She gave me an affirming squeeze. "You were ready to throw yourself on the pyre just to make me Guildmaster. You really thought we'd watch you burn for it?"

  Some fragile part of me hesitated to believe it. But her voice left no room for doubt.

  We cover each other's weakness.

  Maybe I hadn't understood it as well as I thought.

  My hand pressed to my chest. The world felt close again, bright, unbearably kind.

  Evelyn leaned in, her sable hair tickling my cheek. She whispered, "And... there's one more reason."

  "Lady Evelyn Malta?" An inquisitor's voice cut through our moment. "Pardon the interruption. There's a summons from the court."

  Rocher met my eyes. "Go."

  I followed cautiously as Evelyn strode back into the great hall, head high, an irreverent swagger in her step.

  "What's this about? I thought His Highness the Crown Prince excused me from the boring proceedings."

  "Apologies, Lady Malta. You were excused from the questioning, but there remains another matter."

  My gaze drifted to Ramón. His face twisted with fury, as though our proximity confirmed his every suspicion.

  "I challenge you, Eva! A duel to uncover the truth! You set that treacherous wench upon me, didn't you!"

  His roar shook the chamber. Spittle flecked his beard; his chains cnged like struck metal. My heart clenched.

  "I'm sure the White Warden has already confirmed her innocence," Evelyn replied coolly.

  It struck me how perfectly I'd been positioned—just enough truth in my hands to bury Ramón, just enough ignorance to shield them both.

  "I don't know how she tricked him, but she lied! Once I've beaten you, you'll confess everything anyway!"

  He wasn't entirely wrong.

  It was possible to deceive the White Warden, though only with impeccable self-control. That was why testimony was gathered from multiple witnesses—the chances of all of them deceiving him were nil.

  With the evidence stacked so completely against Ramón, this had to be his desperate st move.

  The gears turned in my head. My eyes widened—I finally grasped her intent.

  Ramón's ughter rose, edged with mania. "You must have thought yourself clever framing me. The Lion's Pride brooks no defeat—no dishonor!"

  "Then name your wager," Evelyn said, eyes glinting like drawn steel.

  "It matters not. Choose whatever you wish—you will lose all the same."

  Her smile cut like sunlight through gss.

  "Then stake your seat as Mercenary Guildmaster."

  I looked up at her profile—radiant, unflinching—and felt, for the first time in forever, something warm stir beneath the ashes.