She followed Stefan as he wended his way through the throng to the very head of the room, where a grand table faced the hall like the moon overlooked the night. Along with his mother, his father, and two other men, Kaspian sat up there with his arms crossed and his eyebrows drawn, his light-blond hair instantly familiar.
He wore a finely tailored coat of evergreen, the wool an expensive close weave, perfectly matched to a luxurious gold trim. His collar, unbuttoned at the neck, teased a peek of an immaculate white shirt. Her fingers twitched at her side, brushing a phantom of its cloth, but she flattened her daydreaming hands to her sides.
It suited him, complementing his large but lean frame, broad shoulders and strong arms tapering to narrow hips. His blond hair, against the forest-gre
