Mira
I’d never thought anything could be as intensely awkward as our reception.
When we’d entered the ballroom, Valen and I had a silent agreement to be as gracious of hosts as possible. This evening could still be salvaged for our guests, and it was our duty to ensure we cleared the bitter taste out of their mouths from the ceremony.
I’d thought we’d been in sync and performing well the night of the mating announcement. That was child’s play compared to the show we put on at the reception.
Valen spoke with alphas, cracking jokes and discussing trade over glasses of wine. He made a speech every single meal we were brought, explaining how certain ingredients boded well for a marriage as it started. He spoke warmly to lull the guests into a false sense of comfort.
And I t
