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The crowd surged forward, the air thick with derisive laughter that bit at Allvar like a swarm of stinging insects. The taller guard, his eyes cold as polished stone, stepped even closer until he loomed over Allvar, blocking the light from the chandelier above.

“Look, boy,” he spat, his voice lowering to a dangerous rumble, “you need to walk away before this becomes a problem you don’t want to have.”

Allvar’s throat tightened, but he lifted his chin, holding the guard’s gaze. “I’m telling you the truth. Leonard Falck sent me. I’m his—”

The young woman in silver, her sequin-studded dress catching the light like shards of ice, let out a scoff so sharp it might as well have been a blade. “Oh, spare us the theatrics. Do you expect us to believe that Leonard Falck, who could hire any polished envoy in the city, sent you here?” Her dark eyes swept over his simple sedan parked at the edge of the lot. “In that tin can?”

The crowd erupted in renewed laughter, faces flushed with mirth and
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