We descended the grand staircase into a sea of bodies.
The foyer is alive with chatter and the clink of crystal glasses. A quartet of musicians playing something soft and classical. The kind of music my mother used to listen to while she worked. I quickly shove that memory away before it could root itself. I have no interest in thinking about the vile woman who birthed me.
With my hand still looped around Ravić's arm, I let him guide me into the crowd. Not even a second had passed before an older couple I didn't recognize bowed low, offering their congratulations. Then another. And another. Until it became a rhythm of polite nods, murmured blessings, his small talk here and there before we moved on to the next.
Ravić wore his charm like a second skin, slipping into the role of Crown Prince with effortless grace. The more he smiled, the tighter the unease coiling inside my chest. Something was off.
