His knife is cool against his skin. Kora twists the knife between his lithe fingers, the blade cutting through the air.

The Shadow Court is as usual. Spies scatter amongst the common room playing darts, drunk on gin, laughing loudly, mouths full of roasted pork.

Kora lifts his drink and takes a slow sip. A chorus of laughter breaks out from the corner of the room where a group of goblins play a game of billiards. The King and Queen hold a revel tonight. It seems everynoe is in the spirit.