"Wear my cloak and go—I'll meet Longley at the east gate," I said, tugging at Colette's sleeve. She looked at me like I had suggested stealing the moon. "You want me to be you?" "Yes. Promise you'll laugh at Longley's stupid jokes." I grinned. "Promise you'll trip once and curse him out in public. It will be perfect." Colette's fingers hovered over the red mark at her collarbone. The mark was a thin crescent of scar, our father's seal. She frowned. "That scar—Frankie. If you go to the festival with that, someone will know." "That's the point." I bounced on my heels. "You like the games. Let me see how the world treats you for a night." She pinched the edge of my cloak. "You are not flippant tonight. The tide is odd." I snorted. "All tides are odd when you're in them. Come on. Wear my boots. I'll take your hairnet. No one will notice." A servant girl hovered in the shadow of the yew, watching us with bored eyes. "Do it," she said into the hush. "Colette, for one night. You can be a prank." Colette hesitated two heartbeats longer than I liked. She moved anyway and let me help switch cloaks under the lantern light by the garden shed. "Promise you won't disappear," she said without looking at me. "Promise." My promise was a laugh, a climb through a window, a sprint across the