The Summer Solstice Masquerade was the crowning jewel of the Arindale social calendar. It was a night of mandated revelry, where identities were temporarily erased behind silk, feathers, and gold, allowing the strict, suffocating rules of the court to blur just enough to be dangerous.
Kaia Taryn was experiencing it from the wrong side of a locked door.
For three days, she had been a prisoner in her own bedchamber. Victoria had been true to her word: the door was locked from the outside, the meals were meager, and the only company Kaia had were the two severe-looking maids who stood guard in the hallway.
She sat on the edge of her bed, listening to the muffled, sweeping strains of an orchestra floating up through the floorboards. The Masquerade had begun an hour ago. Downstairs, hundreds of nobles were drinking spiced wine, dancing under the crystal chandeliers, and engaging in the very scandal Aeron had planned to orchestrate.
But Aeron was down there. And Kaia was up here.
