Later that evening,
After Nia had left, Cassandra made her way downstairs, her soft heels barely making a sound against the polished floors of Darius’s grand mansion. Soraya followed a few steps behind her, quiet and watchful as always.
Cassandra's long dress flowed gently with every step she took, and she glanced down at herself, self-conscious. Was this too much for just dinner? she wondered, brushing her hand over the smooth fabric of her gown. Her hair had been styled with care, her makeup subtle but elegant. It was rare for her to dress up like this and rarer still to feel nervous about it.
It’s just dinner, she told herself, but the flicker of doubt didn’t go away. But with him? Is anything ever really just dinner?
As she turned the corner and stepped into the dining hall, the br
