The hall was still loud.
Not the kind of loud it had been an hour ago — the music and the toasts and the performance of celebration. This was different, clustered voices and scraping chairs and the particular energy of people who had witnessed something and couldn't stop talking about it.
Jason. Denton. Whatever had cracked open between them in front of everyone.
Ava didn't care.
She moved through the edges of the dispersing crowd, eyes forward, weaving between bodies that were too busy leaning into each other's ears to notice her dress cutting toward the east passage. A lord grabbed his wife's arm and steered her toward the exit, face tight.
Two Luna's stood frozen near the refreshment table, whispering behind their hands. A guard crossed in front of her and she slowed, let him pass, then kept moving.
She had one thought.
Simon.
