Viktoria POV
The confidence I gathered earlier, scraping it together like crumbs, begins to crumble the moment I get up from my seat.
My knees feel hollow and my moist palms feel cold. I peer at Marco, grasping for some silent reassurance, but he’s busy leaning toward two men at once, smiling, speaking, caught in an animated conversation. He has forgotten me. Why not? I’m just a nurse, aren't I? His nurse.
Lucille, however, isn't pretending anything. She isn’t eating. She’s staring straight at me. A dark, cold glare that seems to latch onto my spine. I look away before it freezes me in place.
Kyra’s feet are rattling off ahead of me, the spread of her red gown blowing behind her. I follow her out of the banquet hall, past guards who pretend not to see, past portraits of alphas who loo
