Elodie glanced down at the paper in her hand, clutched so tightly it threatens to tear. If she didn't check it every five minutes or so, who knows where it could disappear off to? Yes, this was the place. Smack in the middle of the cramped city, tucked away in one of the constricted quarters, right around one of the labyrinthine streets. This had better be the place . . .

No, she'd taken one wrong turn to many. Of course she did. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Every turn was the wrong turn in this hellish place. Which street was which? Where do they lead? The moment Elodie turns her back, they rearrange themselves and change directions, and then the buildings themselves inch closer together, until what's left of the space between is so constricting that her lungs simply can't absorb enough air. She was going to die here, in front of this one gated mansion among an entire street complex of gated mansions, somewhere nobody at home could find her again. What was the name of the district? Peri . . . something. Periford? Periport? More or less. Well, the first four homes she went to either had no idea what she was talking about or simply slammed the door in her face. Eventually, she'll find it. Steeling herself, she approached the door.

Yes, she was right not to second-guess herself at the last second. The doorman was eager enough to let her in, once she had proven beyond reasonable doubt that she possessed both an invitation and a mask. Quickly, she slipped it on and entered. 

The library. Where was the library? Lady Rowena had said to meet her there. Her, and her friend Kingsford. She found the door quickly enough, and entered quiet as she could. There they were, chatting casual as you please. Elodie would recognize the woman anywhere, even with the mask. But how was she supposed to approach such esteemed people? The direct way, perhaps, would not be the best. The last thing she would want is to give something away that should not have been.

"My Lady, a pleasure to see you here," Elodie said, walking up to the chatting pair and dropping to a low curtsy. Just as the school has drilled into her since she was fourteen. One foot back, knees bent, enclose hand into fist optional. "I do hope you are enjoying yourself as I am. I believe you had wished to continue last week's . . . conversation here?"