*Freya*
For all of my determination to put my feminine embarrassment behind me, I still turn into a stammering fool the minute I lay eyes on Zac again.
The evening had started out innocently enough. After Angel had managed to pry all of the details about the picnic she could get out of me, the pair of us had decided to dress for the evening meal. Angel, however, was considerably more interested in choosing my attire than her own, insisting that I should wear a deep violet gown that sets off my unusual eyes.
“It’s the same color you wore when you made your debut,” Angel explains. “And Zac was so taken with you.”
“I doubt he will remember the color of my gown,” is all that I reply. Nevertheless, I allow myself to be talked into the violet silk, hoping that the bold color might bolster my
