DARIAN
I wait until the dining hall empties. The elders leave in twos and threes, satisfied with the food and wine they had consumed, and the one that irks me the most, the sound of their own voices.
Lucian lingers long enough to meet my eye, to make me wonder how much he saw of my restraint, before he follows behind Theron into the corridor.
Only Evelara stays, her head tipped over one shoulder, admiring her reflection in the tall mirror as if she’s the only person here worth seeing. The servants swept in, clearing dishes in silence. They took one glance at me and knew that they had to be quick with whatever they were doing.
They know better than to speak when my temper’s walking close to the surface.
“Dismiss them,” I say.
The room stills. The servants bow out, and when the doors
