I stare down at the mask in my hands. It took me nearly an hour to get dressed for the masquerade ball, and I still haven’t convinced myself to go. I don’t have the energy or the will for anything—I haven’t eaten since Victoria disappeared last night. I hardly slept. I know that with my father incapacitated it’s up to me to work out the official terms regarding the land rights of the Amhurst Valley with Maximilian, but I can hardly bring myself to do that, even though it is the one bright lining of this entire ordeal.

The cost was too damn high.

The people expect me at the masquerade tonight. After everything that’s happened—with my father, with Reginald, with the scepter—they need me there. Now, more than ever, I need to show them strength. And my entire family knows it. Sophia dropped by twice this afternoon to badger me and squeeze out a promise that I would attend.

My sister knows more than she’s telling me. William, too—my brother has been mysteriously absent around the palace today. He’s up to something, but I can’t find the energy to investigate.

I can’t even find the energy to put on this mask.

I cross over to the window and look out at the city. The sun has just set, and the city is more alive than ever—the glow of lanterns makes the buildings look like they are washed in gold, and I can even see the faint flickering of the giant bonfire they’ve lit in the Main Square. If I opened the window, I’d no doubt hear the sounds of revelry, but the thought of such cheerfulness only makes my stomach curdle.

To think—this used to be one of my favorite days of the year. For one night, I was just another citizen of Montovia. I could lose myself in the celebration, be free of all responsibility for a few hours.

From now on, though, I’ll only remember it as my first night after losing Victoria.

There’s a knock on the door behind me.

“Andrew!” comes my sister’s voice. “Are you ready? We’re going to be late.”

I sigh. There’s no point in staying, even though I feel as if I’ve been dragged behind a carriage through the mountains. I won’t feel any better staying here in my room. At least by going I can make my sister happy—and, I suppose, the people of Montovia. I cannot forget them now. At the very least, their lives will be better now for everything that has happened these past few days. It’s a small consolation, but it’s all I have.

I place the mask over my eyes. Let’s get this over with.

Sophia is tapping her foot against the floor when I finally open the door. She gives me a quick once-over, then nods.

“Let’s go,” she says, grabbing my hand. “The car has been waiting twenty minutes already.”

I don’t respond, but that doesn’t seem to bother her. It’s enough that I’m coming at all, I suspect.

When we reach the car, William is already there. I expect him to crack a joke at my expense, but instead, he’s silent. In fact, he looks rather serious behind his mask. That’s unusual for him, especially on a night like this.

“Leo and Elle have already gone down to the city,” Sophia says. “So we’re all here.”

As the car begins to move, I study William. I understand why I feel terrible, but why should he look so down? Yesterday he, like Sophia, seemed determined to be infuriatingly optimistic about what is an objectively terrible situation. Now, though, he looks worried. Has something happened?

“What is it?” I ask him.

He was clearly deep in thought—it takes him a moment to register that I’ve spoken to him. He shrugs and gives a little shake of his head.

“Nothing,” he tells me. “I’m just tired.”

I don’t believe that for a minute. “You’re lying.”

William shakes his head again. “And you’re not in your right mind right now. Trust me—everything’s fine.”

Anger starts to build in my chest—I don’t have the patience for these sorts of games right now. But when I open my mouth to argue, Sophia places a hand on my arm.

“Let’s not fight tonight,” she says. “Please.”

One look at my little sister and I feel the fight seep out of me. I don’t want to fight—but I want to know what’s on William’s mind—he’s definitely up to something, and he wants to hide it from me. That’s not a good sign.

But I bite my tongue the rest of the way to the city. And when we get out of the car, William is gone before I have the chance to speak with him again. He’s lost in the crowd now.

I glance at my watch—it’s five minutes until seven o’clock. We arrived here just in time—at the stroke of seven, the procession begins. The citizens of Montovia will all proceed up the road to the palace, where all are welcome in our master ballroom for the masquerade ball. I can already hear the drums and horns starting—members of the Royal Orchestra lead the procession with a handful of standard bearers and a squad of the Royal Guard.

“Come on,” Sophia says, grabbing my hand and pulling me into the crowd. Part of the tradition is for the members of the royal family to be lost among the rest of the crowd. We proceed into the ballroom with everyone else.

As we move through the crowded street, I find myself subconsciously scanning the crowd for Victoria. I know she won’t be here, but I can’t help it—I suppose I just like to torture myself.

The drums and horns get louder, taking their places at the front of the crowd. After a moment, they transition into the Montovian national anthem, and around me, the crowd begins to sing along.

I mumble along, but my eyes are still searching the crowd. And suddenly, my heart stops. There—behind that lamppost!

I shove my way through the crowd, running toward her. Victoria.

But when I get to the spot where I saw her, it’s not Victoria I see. In fact, the brunette woman I saw looks nothing like her.

You’re going mad, I think, stumbling back through the crowd. Seeing her everywhere.

I try to make my way back to Sophia, but the procession has started moving. The musicians have transitioned into another song now, a lively traditional tune that most of our citizens know. People are dancing and singing around me, moving slowly up the street, carrying me along with them.

I keep looking for Sophia, but instead, my heart stills again.

I could have sworn…

I know it’s probably only my imagination again, but the woman I just saw moved exactly like Victoria. Her hair was hidden, but the way she held herself… It could have been her. It has to be her.

Shoving my way through the dancing crowd, I try to reach the woman I saw. But she’s disappeared, lost among the other revelers.

You really are going crazy…

The crowd moves slowly but steadily up the hill, heading toward the palace. I have no choice but to go along with them. But now a hope has been lit in my chest. If I can just find her, speak to her for a moment… Just a moment is all I want.

But I don’t spot her again. I’m beginning to think she really was just a figment of my imagination. I should have known better—Victoria left Montovia last night. She’s probably already back in the United States. And I have a feeling she’s going to make it a lot harder to find her this time.

The crowd is singing another song now, and someone nudges me when they realize I’m not singing along. I do my best to follow along, even though I don’t feel like singing at all.

We’ve finally reached the palace. The doors to the Master Ballroom have been thrown open, welcoming the citizens of Montovia, and everyone presses inside. The rest of the Royal Orchestra is already inside, playing a waltz. The lawn outside is lit with twinkling lanterns—not everyone will fit inside, and on a beautiful night like this, many people prefer to stay outside under the stars.

I’ve just made it inside the doors when I see it again—another tease of my imagination, another glimpse of a woman who might be Victoria. And even though I know I’m just torturing myself, I can’t help it—I move toward her.

People are dancing in the center of the room, swirling around in time to the waltz. I only make it about twenty paces before someone grabs my arm, tugging me toward the other dancers. Before I can protest, I find a woman in my arms. She pulls me into position, and I have no choice but to dance.

The woman who grabbed me isn’t Victoria. But as we twirl about the room, I realize that dancing gives me an easy way to scan the surrounding crowd on all sides.

There—in that dark dress!

But whoever I saw is gone half a second later, lost behind another twirling skirt.

Stop looking for her, I tell myself. You know she isn’t here.

And as I’m passed off to another partner—who, like the first, isn’t the woman I want to see—I chide myself for being such a lovesick fool.