Celaena gave her a smile that only meant trouble. “Unfortunately, I have other plans. Isn’t that right, Your Highness?” She didn’t bother to hide the undercurrent of annoyance.
Chaol coughed, suddenly very interested in the berries in the hedges. Dorian was on his own. “Don’t blame me,” Dorian said smoothly. “You accepted an invitation to that party in Rifthold weeks ago.” Her eyes flickered, but Dorian wouldn’t yield. He couldn’t bring her to the feast, not with so many watching. There would be too many questions. Not to mention too many people. Keeping track of her would be difficult.
Nehemia frowned at Celaena. “So you’re not going?”
“No, but I’m sure you’ll have a lovely time,” Celaena said, then switched into Eyllwe and said something else. Dorian’s Eyllwe was just competent enough
