"I have no idea as to what you mean, Phil."
They walked down the elegant hallway crowded with aristocrats. She could spot a few of her mother's close acquaintances, especially the Bernbys.
"Can we turn back the way we came? There is someone I do not want to see me." She leaned close to whisper.
Without a word, Phil guided her around, pretending to view a painting behind them. As he did so, he used his body to obscure her from the view of the people in question.
"Thank you." She muttered.
"Don't mention it."
Then they began walking back to the exhibition chambers.
"I wonder if he even knows he's a Prince. The idiot can't make his misery any more known than he already does." Phil said out of the blue.
Misery?
"You know him?"
