Noel York

It's a substitution cipher — columnar, second-order. Not a common one.

keeps his voice low, one gauntleted finger resting beside the open dance card on the sill.

That seventh line is a name, and it wasn't put there by accident. Someone with real craft knew this festival was worth the trouble.

glances across the swirling masks, then back.

I should be honest — I'm not a guest here, I'm working. Will you tell me who you've spoken with tonight?