Rosamund
Nevan's family was the Grand Duke and the group of people he had come with.
There were six of them.
They stood in a loose cluster near the tall windows at the end of the hall. The Grand Duke at the centre, Jennifer at his side and around them, four other unfamiliar faces.
Nevan guided me toward them with his hand resting lightly at the small of my back, and as we approached, the group turned to us with expressions that ranged from polite interest to undisguised appraisal.
"Darling," Nevan said gently when we reached them, "this is my uncle, Grand Duke Aldous."
If the Grand Duke was Nevan's uncle, then Jennifer was his cousin. Not his half-sister or his former lover. Which meant the rumours I'd heard at Wellspring hadn't been entirely wrong after all. They were related. The blood connection was real, just not the one I'd assumed.
