For a while, Penelope remained fixed near a potted plant, eyes fixed on Francesca. The young lady's eyes bloomed with genuine happiness, every step cautious and practical as she moved along, guided by her next caller.
Young Lord Damon Riorson of House Riorson. With silver hair and a tall build, he appeared entirely captivating. There was something distinctive about him, Penelope observed, even from where she stood.
Perhaps it was the silver hair, which seemed almost white beneath the chandeliers, or perhaps it was the composed manner in which he carried himself. Unlike Lord Adrian, he did not possess the effortless charm displayed earlier, nor did he seem particularly eager to impress anyone.
If anything, he seemed indifferent to the room, and yet somehow everyone noticed him. Whispers followed his arrival almost immediately.
"Lord Riorson," Someone beside her whispered to her companion, their eyes fixed on the dance floor.
