The excitement in Lady Vivian's eyes could not be hidden. She bowed her head toward King Zyren the instant he announced the match, then lifted her chin again with the careful poise of someone trying too hard to look unaffected.
She resumed her meal, slicing delicately at her meat, sipping her wine with the elegance of nobility—but the gleam of triumph in her expression was unmistakable.
Aria, on the other hand, felt her appetite wither and die. The moment Zyren's words left his lips, the food on her plate seemed tasteless, her throat tight. She set her utensils down, forcing herself to keep her face blank, though her gaze cut sharply toward Vivian. Then, reluctantly, toward Harriet.
