There was frequent traffic through the back loading bay, since it was still pre-banquet and pre-fashion show. The pair was waved in when they flashed their obviously relevant item; the important checkpoints were internal, so door security acted mainly as helpers and emergency watch.

As the two walked purposefully through the hotel map, Derringer eyed the perceivable form of Yrenn Tiche, pinched her practical outfit, and poked her soft arm. “Wow, that’s convincing,” he muttered to one side. “I could forget that you’re the Princess. But I won’t.”