We arrived late. Neither Ausmane’s farewell nor my veneration party started without us, and the faces we were least eager to see greeted us at the door of the banquet hall, their bodies decked out in suits. I felt totally defenseless and transparent without a mask.
Randine grinned as he surveyed me, and his eyes wrinkled at the corners. “Cassiel has wonderful taste is clothes.”
Venom slithered up my insides. “He was the one who picked it?”
“Do thank him when you get the chance to see him,” Randine said. His grey eyes flicked to Ausmane who’d tucked his hands in his pockets and was looking deliberately bored. And he was also receiving scornful looks from Furin. “We haven’t talked properly before, have we?”
“I was hoping to keep it that way,” Ausmane answered. “Too bad I’m out of luck
