The next hour was a total blur of hairspray and the smell of expensive nail polish. Maeve and Penial had turned the apartment into their own private salon. Maeve sat still, making sure every detail was perfect. Her life was built on looking flawless, and tonight was her big debut as a Blackwood bride-to-be.
"Higher," Maeve said, looking at herself in the mirror as Penial fixed her hair. "I want it sleek and tight. I want them to see my face before they even notice the dress. I’m not going for 'sweet' tonight, Pen. I’m going for powerful."
As the stylist finished her toes, Maeve’s phone made a sharp ding. It was an email. She frowned. Who sends an email at six in the evening on a gala night?
She opened it to find a short, cold message from Cassian.
> Subject: Tonight, I won’t be able
