Gabrielle had never been inside a ballroom as one of the guests. In the past, since she became a Soldier of Belcourt, the shadows were her only ballroom. While the Belles enjoyed the light and glitters, the men and their drinks, them, the Soldiers, were the silent eyes behind everyone. Unnoticed, unassuming.

But not tonight.

For quite a few reasons.

First, she was in a dress. Her red, curly hair donned in a simple bun that did not attract, but was presentable enough (as Ellise St. Vincent said). "We cannot walk in and attract attention, but we cannot walk in wearing buckskins either," the woman had said. Second, people looked at her. Not with interest, but with fleeting curiosity. Third, the curiosity was mainly on the fact that she was walking side by side with Rider Fairborne, the Earl of Keene.

She knew enough of his reputation—that he was a silent and arrogant man, his private affairs always private. Everyone was always interested in him, even the women, but they curiously seemed to be uninterested in him as well. He was an earl. He was, in fact, handsome. Women should at least try to get his attention. It must be his presence, the way his eyes would look at you and make you feel inadequate.

As mentioned, their curiosity was merely fleeting. They looked at her because she was with Rider Fairborne. Then they looked away because he was not interesting enough for them. And that was the end of it. No whispers as she feared, no ogling. Everyone else was with much desirable and charming companions.

This little display, walking around the grand ballroom, was only for her family, the Vandenbergs, wherever they may be in the room, to see for themselves. Like a prized artifact ready for auction, she was being put on display. Proof that she was real. Alive. Ready to be acquired.

Ellise St. Vincent and Robert Dior did not come with them. The pair was somewhere in the vast mansion to see their own artifacts on display. The two Royals they had to rescue.

"Can we leave now?" she asked Rider. He looked at her, perhaps a little longer than he typically would, and shook his head. "Why?" she bit out.

He surveyed the room nonchalantly. They were in a corner, unnoticed by most. And he seemed unbothered with the lack of attention. Here was a man who was as comfortable to be in the shadows like her. Just watching, always watching.

"That's one of your uncles," he said, nodding at a large man dancing with a woman.

"He has red hair."

"That's because he's from your other side of the family," he explained. "And that one with the red feathers on her sleeves is from your mother's side of the family." She followed his gaze to the woman with a cane surrounded by men her age, laughing. "She's the messenger."

Her jaw tightened. He meant the old woman was here to confirm Gabrielle's presence.

"Then I know why we have to stay longer," she murmured, taking a glass from the passing servant. She gulped it down. "Her eyesight must be struggling."

The corner of his mouth quirked into a small smile. Or a laugh. Gabrielle mentally scolded herself. She should not be joking with Rider Fairborne. Or with anyone. She should be looking for an escape.

But how could she? The Vandenbergs were everywhere, their men in all corners of the room. The same with the Royal Circus. There were Belles here, and most definitely Soldiers too. But she could never tell where they were. In the shadows, of course. And what would they think of her if they ever recognized her?

Nora had kept secrets from her while they were on the ship from London. Why? Because they ordered her to, or because she was working with someone else? If only she could get to Nora, ask the woman the questions. At this point, she could only trust a Soldier.

If she wanted to get to Nora, she had to make a deal with the Circus. They were keeping the captured Soldiers somewhere and there was no way for Gabrielle to find out where unless she worked with them. But could she trust them to keep their end of the bargain? To let them go after they helped deal with the French soldiers?

Her eyes went to the messenger and a chill ran up her spine. The old woman was looking directly at her, lips curled into a smile as she pretended to listen to the men around her. And then she looked away, as if Gabrielle had never been there.

A hand came to rest behind her and she stiffened, almost ready to pounce and fight. "Don't murder me in this ballroom," Rider whispered beside her, his hand leading her away from their corner. "Let's walk around. My legs are getting sleepy."

"For how long will we be here?"

"As long as I deem necessary, my lady."

"Don't call me that."

"You are a daughter of a marquess and brother to an earl. You are a lady."

"I may have been borne as one, but I was raised as nothing but."

"Then what are you? A Soldier?"

She looked ahead, the faces around them a blur. These were people she should be acquainted with, should have known through family and friends if her fate had not been chosen for her. "An orphan," she murmured.

She noticed his steps falter for a split second before he resumed. If he had a comment on her answer, he did not give it voice. "And you?" she could not help but ask.

"A Royal and proud of it. Also an earl and thankful for it."

There was no hesitation. He was confident with his answer. "You were borne to be both."

He shook his head. "I did not know about the Circus until I discovered my father's secret." His head turned so he could steal her a glance. "It was my choice to be a Royal. Because I believe in it and it's with friends I trust."

His silent question gave Gabrielle pause. His eyes were asking, And you? What were your choices?

She hated the answer because she knew it would satisfy him. It was not her choice to be sent to Belcourt. It was Belcourt who chose her to be a Soldier. And it was Belcourt's law that told her who she had to trust.

A choice.

The Royal Circus was giving her that tonight. Before midnight.

To choose.

It was scary. It was unimaginable.

*****

Esther considered Leila for a long time. They were sitting quietly in their prison, the bricks back in order.

"It's not easy to get into the Village," Leila explained. Although she did not try to get into the Village, what she said was true. "I must find another way."

"I have no time."

"Then I suggest we make a bigger hole so you can squeeze out and do what you want," she snapped. "I wonder if you even know the way out of the Palace."

Her aunt's lips thinned, eyes narrowing to slits. The woman was obviously not used to being talked to like this, especially by a child. But so was Leila. The only people she tolerated were Caroline and Jamie. And maybe Mason. Before she left Belcourt and Arielle stole her throne, Leila was the law. Even after everything, the pride remained.

Pride, child, shall be your downfall. Ellise St. Vincent had told her that. Esther had much to learn about pride as well, she thought.

"I will return tomorrow, but I will not go to the Village," she said. "I'm going to the Common Court."

"The orphanage?"

She nodded. "No one will question if someone my size is found loitering around the only place where children are expected to be."

"And what will you do there?"

"Steal cloaks, of course. So I can blend into the Village."

"Cloaks will not make you less of a child."

She rolled her eyes. "The children go to the Village for their lessons wearing their court cloaks. Do you understand now?"

Esther's jaw clenched, and she stood up to look out the window. They could barely see the roofs of the Village from here. "Very well. Do what you must." Then she faced Leila. "But while you're away, I'm going to work on the hole. You're right. I need to get out there." She walked closer, eyes knowing and filled with warning. "Once you gain entrance into the Village, steal me another cloak. I want a purple one."

Leila's heart stopped for a moment. She did not expect that.

"I'm sure you can do that?"

She forced her thundering heart to silent itself, but it persisted. With much effort, Leila shrugged. "Of course."

"Good," Esther said. "Don't do anything stupid. If either of us gets in trouble, we'll both be in trouble. If you I suspect you're doing something behind my back, I'll make sure we get in trouble and I would not mind that at all. I, for one, have an army eager to save me outside this place. You have none but me." With a satisfied sigh, she threw Leila a smile. "Do you understand me, child?"

Leila wished she could show this woman just how powerless she was inside Belcourt, but she needed Esther for her plans. So she had to agree. Or at least, make Esther think so. "Yes."

*****

"Are you ready?" Rider asked. His eyes looked between hers, probably assessing something. Or maybe he was concerned. After all, they would be letting go of someone that could have potentially been a good ally.

"And if I'm not?" she testily asked.

He blinked away to the window behind her. They were in a quiet study. "You better be." When his brown eyes met hers again, he added. "We need to get our Royals back. Certainly, you understand that."

"Of course," she said. "But you are also hoping I'd choose to join you later at midnight."

His gaze imprisoned hers. "Perhaps it's time you make a choice, Gabrielle." He stepped back, hands in the pockets of his trouser. "This is where I leave you."

They said her family would come for her here. The two Royals would also be left in another study in the opposite wing. Both parties shall meet in the hall to watch each other while their men retrieved Gabrielle and the Royals. If one betrayed each other, the bloodbath shall be in the hall.

"Good night, Gabrielle," Rider Fairborne said as he reached the door.

This was the last moment she would see him leave her. But why did it feel wrong? She was certain it was not because she had been used to his presence. Or that they formed a connection. They never had the chance to know each other.

The unease came from something else. The loss of hope that the door would open again. That she would have another visitor to present her their facts, their stories. To urge her to join their side. To ask her to deconstruct everything she believed it, to dissect them as someone other than a Soldier. To see things as Gabrielle, the woman she was supposed to be without Belcourt or the Vandenbergs. Without influence.

The chance for her to grapple with herself left with Rider Fairborne. Who was she, really? Outside of the fate the Vandenbergs gave her, Belcourt had chosen for her... Who was she? What did she want? What did she believe in?

Those questions would never be challenged again because once the door opened, the Vandenbergs would have her. And things would return to how they were: She, Gabrielle Shaw, fated to serve the family as a Soldier of Belcourt. And she, as a Soldier, should fight with them to bring them back Belcourt.

There would no longer be doors opening to Sasha, her brother, or Ellise St. Vincent. No one would dare push her to ask questions. Everything would be clear again. She would be plucked and planted back on one side of the board for another game.

She let out a shaky breath as she waited. She thought she heard Rider's footsteps halt outside the door before it continued and disappeared. And shortly after, before she could even consider jumping out the window and escape, she heard another set of footsteps.

The door opened.