You make your way across the ballroom to Salar, weaving through the other guests in a not-entirely-graceful dance. When Salar sees you, he starts to dart away, but you hook your arm through his firmly. "Won't you honor me with this dance?"
Salar looks like he's considering whether to wrestle free, and then inclines his head to you in an ironic bow. "It's as if you don't trust me."
"I told you I'd help you get inside," you say.
"I had another chance to get in. I wasn't sure you'd do what you promised. And I had to get inside tonight. The Raven is here, he's right here, close enough to touch." The passion on his face is open, unguarded. "I thought if I spoke to him, if I told him who I was and made him face the consequences of his crimes…"
You can't exactly leap on Salar and clap your hand over his mouth, but it's tempting. "Do you want to end up in prison?"
"The Raven is the one who should be afraid," Salar says.
You're pretty certain that you, at least, should also be afraid.