The reception ran from six to nine.
Neva arrived at six-fifteen — not first, which was deliberate. Arriving first at a social event read differently from arriving first at a meeting. Social events rewarded the appearance of ease, and ease looked like someone who had other things to do and had arrived when it suited them. She took a glass of water from the nearest table, found the Ember delegation, and oriented herself in the room.
Dacre was already there.
She placed him in her peripheral vision and left him there. Far side of the room, the Crescent Fang cluster around him, the particular gravitational pull of an Alpha in a social setting that arranged people slightly differently than they would have arranged themselves. He was talking to the Irongate representative. He had a wine glass.
