The hall shimmered with torchlight, red and black banners waving faintly in the warm sea breeze. Music swelled, voices mingling, the clink of goblets punctuating laughter. Ainsley Massey lingered near a shadowed column, her hands folded over the front of her gown, mind carefully calm, heart quietly thrumming. The scent of roasted meat, sweet spiced wine, and candle wax mingled with the salt air drifting through the open windows. She watched the dancers, the nobles, the way the lords bowed and curtsied, each motion precise, each smile measured.