Aveline did not care what anyone thought of her, but she would be lying if she said she did not take a small, private pleasure in hearing what the old man had just said about his own granddaughter and Theron. It was almost enough to make her laugh. Almost.
Well. At least he was not completely insane. There was still a scrap of sense in him somewhere.
Her gaze drifted to the chain resting against her throat. It was solid gold, heavy in a way that felt strangely reassuring, and that alone was enough to make her decide to keep it. It should be worth a lot.
She glanced toward Theron to see whether he looked offended or hurt by any of this, but he had already drawn back, standing at a distance as though none of it had anything to do with him at all. That was enough for her.
If he chose to leave Rosalyn to fume on her own, then Rosalyn could keep her fury. Aveline had no intention of interfering.
