Nova sat alone at the farthest end of the great hall, his expression unreadable as flickering lantern light danced across the golden walls.
The music continued, laughter ringing through the air, but his attention was elsewhere. He sipped his drink with disinterest, eyes occasionally scanning the room.
It hadn't taken long for attention to drift toward him.
A group of nobles, clothed in silks and arrogance, slowly began gravitating toward his corner.
Some came with questions about the hunt, others with sly compliments and hollow pleasantries.
Most, though, came with something else in mind—flirtation laced with political curiosity.
Nova deflected each approach with carefully chosen words and a look that discouraged further conversation. Most took the hint.
Except one.
A particularly bold noblewoman had latched onto him, ignoring the coolness in his gaze.
She leaned closer with every word, her hand brushing his sleeve as she laughed at something that hadn't been funny.
