A Storm Beneath Polite Smiles
Voices rose in every direction. People talked without stopping.
A hush slipped through the richly adorned room, soft as rustling reeds under a breeze. Light from glass lamps spilled honeyed glow onto floors so smooth they mirrored the ceiling above. Though this yearly meeting once thrived on quiet rivalries dressed in fine fabric, now - quite suddenly - all eyes turned elsewhere. Today held a different kind of spark, one that pulled thoughts away from old games.
Meanwhile -
Julian D'Aurelius's internal monologue was pure chaos.
(Why are they all following me?)
(Why do I feel like I'm walking toward execution?)
(If this continues…)
(Valemont's gossip circles will explode tomorrow.)
Behind him walked four breathtaking women.
Selene Aurevale.
Bianca De Dominicis.
Amara Ravenswood.
Gwen Valquin.
