Inej stays close by his side, the wing of her arm brushing gently against his. Kaz is tall and regal in his black coat and top hat, and she looks like someone who exists in the shadows and in the tales one tells their children to hush them to sleep. But what those stories fail to capture is how his calculating fingers brush against the heel of her palm tentatively in a quiet, uncertain invitation, and how the shadow woman's hand unfurls like wings to intertwine their fingers firmly together.