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Which left him with what options?

Wait and watch?

That’s what he’d been doing. And what Grace was doing in her chair right now.

But tacit observation wasn’t enough.

He laughed bitterly.

He’d spent a month bemoaning Grace’s inaction, but what had he ever done?

Nothing. He’d done nothing, hypocrite that he was.

Was it possible that could change?

He couldn’t sit with her. Not publicly. He was useless to the dying town and would be tossed out on his ear in minutes.

A new excitement, similar to the one he’d felt while watching Grace blocking the mayor and sheriff from the Ferrers’ home, began to smolder in his chest.

One didn’t have to show one’s face to rebel. There was a mask and cloak hidden behind a loose panel in his wall.

He couldn’t, could he?

He wasn’t like Grace. He hadn’t trained enough for this.

But it was too late for that.

Warmth began to spread through his sluggish limbs, the embers of excitement bursting into flame.

Maybe it was time to redeem himself.

Chapter 1

“Come on, Grace, let’s dance.”

Grace shook her head. “I’m tired, Lizzy.” Tired of these tempting requests. Only a few minutes of sitting, and her body ached with the effort of restrained fidgeting. Moving about sounded heavenly.

She cursed past months when she’d yielded to Lizzy’s pestering. It had fed her friend’s tenacity. Lizzy had never understood why Grace sat when she could be having fun, and Grace hadn’t ever tried to explain since she’d thought it pointless herself for most of her life.

“James has been sneaking glances at you the whole night. One dance more won’t make you faint”—Lizzy leaned in conspiratorially—“but James’s green eyes might.”

Grace raised a hand to her cheek. “Must you say such things?” She didn’t mind a bit of teasing. What she minded was the blush that teasing induced, a splotchy red display that made it seemas though a rash marred her pale neck and cheeks. She surveyed the room with nonchalance. Would James notice?

It took a moment of scanning dancers and clusters of gentry hovering near the interlocking white-and-gold cloth displays hanging on the walls to locate James standing with his back to her.

The surge of abashment vanished. The red splotches weren’t as quick to fade.

“No one but your parents are near enough to hear,” Lizzy said.

The music, the chatter, the walls lined with sound-dampening cloth. “I’m not worried about themhearing.” Grace swiped a hand at Lizzy, who slipped out of reach with quick, graceful steps.

“Come on! Please?”

Grace shook her head again. Shecouldn’trejoin the active revelry. Despite the excuses, Grace was sitting, not in exhaustion, but in protest. Leaving her post would be tantamount to surrendering. A Protector of Fidara didn’t surrender.

At least, she shouldn’t.

With a raise of her nose, Grace smirked at Mayor Nautin. She enjoyed seeing his glower. It reminded her that attending soirées paid for with a hefty chunk of the tax money extorted from her people was a tactical choice, not a concession. Still, it was sickening to know that while the greater part of the people were wondering how they’d afford next month’s food, the gentry partied in extravagance.