The private lounge beside the ballroom had always existed for moments exactly like this.
It was not large, but it was quiet in a way the main hall could never be. Thick doors separated it from the constant movement of the banquet, allowing only faint fragments of the music to drift through the walls. A pair of tall windows overlooked the winter-dark city beyond the Rochefort estate, and a smaller sitting area had been arranged with several low chairs and a long sofa facing a marble table set with untouched water glasses.
From inside the lounge, the banquet felt distant.
The evening had not ended yet, but the room offered a place where the family could step away from the center of attention for a few minutes before returning.
Vincent Rochefort sat near the window, one hand resting lightly on the arm of the chair as he watched the faint reflections of light move across the glass. Amanda sat beside him, her posture relaxed but attentive, as she always was during public events.
