“What is this?” he demands, craning his neck to see what the interruption is. “This is a private dinner! Who are you?”
“My apologies,” a voice says. Something about it nudges at my memory, but I can’t place it. I frown, taking a step closer and pulling Dragonsbane with me, though I still can’t see who it is. A scrap of violet and gold brocade, a patch of black hair, but I can’t manage a good look at his face. “I know we’re late but I was told that you were entertaining some suitors here.”
It is another suitor after all, but I’m sure that I know that voice. That bravado so loud that it distracts from insecurity, the charm painted on so thick that you don’t notice the doubt layered beneath it. I know that voice.
I let go of Dragonsbane’s arm and step toward the entrance, weaving between p
