A few merchants had set up stalls beneath the lanterns, haloed by mist and candlelight, and Lila hung back to see if Alucard was heading for one of those, but he made his way briskly across, eyes ahead, and Lila was forced to either follow or be left behind. She set off after him, fighting to keep her pace leisurely, ignoring the glittering stalls and the patterned metal ceiling, but not so pointedly as to give away her purpose. It was a wasted effort in the end—Alucard never once looked back.

Walking beneath the copper canopies, she saw that they were dappled to look like trees, starlight shining through the leaves, and Lila thought, once more, what a strange world she’d stumbled into, and how glad she was to be there.

Alucard crossed the entire length of the bridge and descended a grand set of stairs to the southern bank of the Isle. Lila had only been on this side once, when she and Kell took Rhy to the sanctuary, and she’d never given much thought to what else lined this other, darker half of the city. Shops and taverns, she would have guessed, perhaps a shadier version of the northern bank. She would have been wrong. This half of London was quiet by comparison; the sanctuary rose solemnly from a bend in the river, and beyond a boundary of bank-side shops and inns, the city gave way to gardens and orchards and, beyond these, to manor homes.

Lila’s old stomping grounds in Mayfair and Regent Park paled in comparison to this London’s southern bank. Elegant carriages pulled by magnificent steeds dotted street after street of grand estates, high-walled and furnished with marble and glass and gleaming metal. The evening mist itself seemed to glitter with wealth.

Ahead, Alucard had quickened his pace, and Lila picked hers up to match. Far fewer people were on these streets, which made tailing him a good deal harder, but his attention was fixed on the road ahead. As far as Lila could tell, there was nothing to see here. No deals to do. No trouble to get into. Nothing but houses, half the windows dark.

Finally Alucard turned off the road, stepping through an intricate gate and into a courtyard lined with shrubbery and bordered by trees, their branches winter-bare.

When Lila caught up, she saw that the curling metalwork of the gate formed an ornate E. And then she looked inside, and caught her breath. The floor of the courtyard was a mosaic of glittering blue and silver stone. She hovered in the shadow of the gate as Alucard made his way up the walk, and watched as, halfway to the door, he paused to collect himself. He dragged his cap from his head and shoved it into the satchel on his shoulder, tousled his hair, flexed his hands, muttered something she couldn’t hear, and then picked up again, his stride calm and confident as he hopped up a short set of steps, then rang a bell.

A moment later, one of the two front doors swung open, and a steward appeared. On seeing Alucard, he bowed. “Lord Emery,” he said, stepping aside. “Welcome home.”

Lila stared in disbelief.

Alucard wasn’t visiting the master of the house.

He was the master of the house.

Before he could step inside, a girl appeared in the doorway, squealed with delight, and threw her arms around his neck.

“Luc!” she cried as he swung her into the air. The girl couldn’t be more than twelve or thirteen, and she had his wavy brown curls and dark eyes.

“Anisa.” He broke into a smile Lila had never seen before, not on him. It wasn’t the proud grin of a captain or the mischievous smirk of a rake, but the absolute adoration of an older brother. She’d never had any siblings, so she didn’t understand the look, but she recognized the simple, blind love, and it twisted something in her.

And then, as suddenly as the girl had launched herself forward, she pulled away, affecting the mock frown Lila had seen on Alucard’s own mouth so many times.

“Where is Esa?” demanded the girl, and Lila tensed, not at the question itself, but the fact she’d asked it in English. No one spoke that tongue in Red London, not unless they were trying to impress the royalty. Or they were royalty.

Alucard chuckled. “Of course,” he said, crossing the threshold. “Three years away from home, and your first question is about the cat….” They disappeared inside, and Lila found herself staring at the front door as it closed.

Alucard Emery, captain of the Night Spire, tournament magician, and … Red London royal? Did anyone know? Did everyone know? Lila knew she should be surprised, but she wasn’t. She’d known from the moment she met Alucard aboard the Night Spire that he was playing a part; it was just a matter of uncovering the man behind it. Now she knew the truth, and the truth gave her a card to play. And when it came to men like Alucard Emery, any advantage was worth taking.

A decorative wall circled the house, and Lila managed to hoist herself up with the help of a low branch. Perched on top, she could see through the great glass windows, many of which were unshuttered. Her silhouette blended into the tracery of trees at her back as she skirted the house, following the glimpses of Alucard and his sister as they made their way into a grand room with tall windows and a blazing hearth, and a pair of glass doors on the far wall leading to an expansive garden. She dropped into a crouch atop the wall as a man came into view. He had Alucard’s coloring, and his jaw was the same square cut, but it looked hard without Alucard’s smile. The man looked older by several years.

“Berras,” said Alucard by way of greeting. The windows were cracked open, and the word reached Lila through the parted glass.

The man, Berras, strode forward, and for an instant it looked as though he might strike Alucard, but before he could, the girl lunged in front of her brother like a shield—there was something terribly practiced about the gesture, as if she’d done it many times before—and Berras stilled his hand in midair. On one of his fingers Lila saw a duplicate of Alucard’s feather ring before his hand fell back to his side.