Shit.

Estelle. Her name was Estelle, and I’d known her once—in my childhood at Chateau le Blanc. She obviously hadn’t recognized me before with my freshly smashed face, but if she saw me again, if she somehow remembered . . .

The heat in my belly froze to ice.

I had to get out of here.

“Lou?” Reid’s voice echoed from afar, as if he called from the end of a tunnel and not from the seat next to me. “Are you all right?”

I inhaled deeply, willing my heart to calm. Surely he could hear it. It thundered through my entire body, condemning me with each treacherous beat. His hand stilled on my wrist. Shit. I pulled it away, twisting my fingers in my lap. “I’m fine.”

He sat back in his seat, confusion and hurt flashing across his face. I cursed silently again.

The moment the final song ended, I leapt to my feet, pulling my cloak back on. Ensuring the hood covered my hair and shadowed my face. “Ready?”

Reid glanced around in bewilderment. The rest of the audience remained seated—some breathless, some weeping at Emilie and Alexandre’s tragic deaths—as the curtain fell. The applause hadn’t yet started. “Is something wrong?”

“No!” The word burst out too quick to be convincing. I cleared my throat, forcing a smile, and tried again. “Just tired is all.”

I didn’t wait for his answer. Tugging his hand, I led him past the aisles, past the patrons finally rising and applauding, and into the foyer—and skidded to a halt. The actors and actresses had already formed a line by the doors. Before I could change directions, Estelle’s gaze found Reid. She scowled before glancing at my cloaked form beside him, eyes narrowing as she peered beneath my hood. Recognition lit. I tugged on Reid’s hand, desperate to flee, but he didn’t move as Estelle strode purposefully toward us.

“How are you?” Her eyes were kind, genuine, as she pushed back my hood to assess my various injuries. Rooted to the spot, I was helpless to stop her. She smiled. “It looks like you’re healing nicely.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I’m fine, thanks. Perfect.”

“Really?” She arched a brow in disbelief, and her kind eyes hardened as she looked to Reid, who seemed even less pleased to see her than she did him. Her lip curled. “And how are you? Still hiding behind that blue coat?”

She was very brave, taunting a Chasseur in public. Patrons tittered disapprovingly around us. Reid scowled and tightened his hold on my trembling fingers. “Let’s go, Lou.”

I flinched at the word, heart sinking miserably, but the damage was done.

“Lou?” Estelle’s entire body tensed, and she tilted her head, eyes widening slowly as she reexamined my face. “As in . . . Louise?”

“Nice to see you again!” Before she could respond, I dragged Reid toward the exit. He followed without struggle, though I could feel his unspoken questions on my neck.

We fought our way through the crowd outside the theater. When I couldn’t clear a path, he stepped in front of me. Whether it was his towering height or his royal blue coat, something about him made people step aside, tipping their hats. Our carriage waited several blocks down the queue—blocked by mingling patrons—so I pulled him in the opposite direction, rushing as far and as fast from the theater as my gown allowed.

When we finally cleared the crowd, he guided me down an empty side street.

“What was that about?”

I chuckled nervously, bouncing on the balls of my feet. We needed to keep moving. “It’s nothing really. I just—” Something shifted behind him, and my stomach plummeted as Estelle melted from the shadows.

“I can’t believe it’s you.” Her voice came out a breathless whisper, and she stared at me in awe. “I didn’t recognize you before with the bruises. You look so . . . different.”

It was true. Beyond my previous injuries, my hair was longer and lighter than when she’d known me, my skin darker and freckled from too many days in the sun.

“Do you two know each other?” Reid asked, frowning.

“Of course not,” I said hastily. “Just—just from the theater. Let’s go, Reid.” I turned toward him, and he wrapped a reassuring arm around my waist, angling himself ever so slightly in front of me.

Estelle’s eyes widened. “You can’t leave! Not now that—”

“She can,” Reid said firmly. While it was clear he had no idea what was going on, his desire to protect me seemed to override his confusion—and his intense dislike of Estelle. His hand was gentle on the small of my back as he led me away. “Good evening, mademoiselle.”

Estelle didn’t even blink. She merely flicked her wrist as if swatting an irksome fly, and the shop sign above us ripped from its hinges and smashed into the back of his skull. The sharp tang of magic swept through the alley as he crashed to his knees. He reached feebly for his Balisarda.

“No!” I gripped his coat, attempting to pull him to his feet—to shield him with my body somehow—but Estelle wrung her fingers before either of us could counter.

When the sign bludgeoned him a second time, he flew backward. His head hit the alley wall with a sickening crack, and he crumpled to the ground and fell still.

A snarl tore from my throat, and I positioned myself between the two of them, lifting my hands.

“Don’t make this difficult, Louise.” She drifted closer, a fanatical gleam in her eyes, and panic constricted my thoughts. Though gold danced in my periphery, I couldn’t focus on a pattern—couldn’t focus on anything. It was as if the world had gone silent, waiting.

Except—

Reid stirred behind me.

“I won’t go with you.” I inched backward, lifting my hands higher to draw her eyes. “Please, stop this.”

“Don’t you understand? This is an honor—”

A blue streak launched past me.

Estelle couldn’t react quickly enough, and Reid barreled into her outstretched arms. For a moment, it looked like a sick embrace. Then Reid wrenched her around so her back was to his chest—crushing her arms and hands between them—and flung an arm around her throat. I watched in horror as she struggled against him. Her face slowly purpled.

“Help—me—” She thrashed in terror, her wild eyes seeking mine. “Please—”