“I know you—You are Dimitri, son of Aegus,” I say boldly. Lascia lays a warning hand on my arm.

“I do not know you, girl, and yet you know me. How is this possible?”

“Never say you forget the last time we met?” I ask and part my lips a bit, wondering if he’ll recognize my mouth, the only part of my face beneath my mask that was visible the night of the festival.

But he just stares at me blankly.

Then I realize my hair is pinned up, not down as it was that night. Quickly, I loosen it so that it falls down my shoulders. I know this is not the proper decorum, especially since I am a young girl in the presence of strange men, but I am feeling reckless. I stand facing him, my chin tilted up a little. Daring him to remember me.

His friends laugh and say something in a dialect I do not understand. It has a lilting sound to it, and it sounds as though they are poking fun at him. His faces flushes darkly and his eyes flash at me.

“I do not know you, girl,” he repeats and then rides off, his friends following.