"Well, that was… a wedding," Ollie says, his tone playful. "At least we didn’t have to sing at this one."
Ella, come over with Austin. My mother would very much like to meet you both.
Will’s voice echoes in my mind. I blink in surprise. I wonder if this is a skill I could develop—being able to communicate telepathically would certainly be useful. I glance over at him and nod in response.
"Austin, Florence wants to meet us," I say.
We push back our chairs and make our way toward Will’s table. As we approach, Florence Leighton-Carter—stunning in her silver-beaded dress—greets us with a radiant smile before rising gracefully to her feet. Even from a few steps away, I can feel the power emanating from her. It has the same distinct presence as Will’s, a commanding yet refined energy.
Befor
