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The head is removable by Alihabashi, narrated by Alexander Elroy.

Someone has... Elroy. Someone had hidden another human head in the museum. Maurice stalked through the shadowed displays past thieves and murderers and traitors,

fascinating in their brutality.

No eyelid fluttered, no chest swelled with breath, indeed no man among them moved at all.

Such is wax.

Marie herself was all movement, wide-eyed and disturbed.

Her black skirts dragged behind her and a nostrils flared to catch the stench that had so permeated her childhood.

It was the rot of revolutionary France, she thought.

It was the terror.

It was the severed heads of her employers and her friends.

And she forced into creating death masks for the lot of them in order to prove her allegiance to the revolution.

A futile effort, in the end.

Not even her great affinity for sculpting could scrub clean her former affluent associations.

Even surrounded as they were by the potent dead, the revolutionaries could smell Versailles on her.

Only the influence of her uncle had kept her from earning a death mask of her own.

...