The warmth of the hall did nothing to thaw Olivia's skin. She stepped back inside with her face pale and hands shivering within her sleeves. Damian was still not there.
Her gaze swept across the gilded ballroom. At the center of it all, Rhistel was dancing with Oriana beneath the grand chandelier, his hand placed delicately at her waist, his smile impeccable.
Olivia did not want to disturb them. She remained at the edge of the floor, half in shadow, half exposed. But she could feel the eyes and now she felt it was more than just a mocking glance or passing curiosity. She felt being watched and predated.
"Lady Olivia." She turned with a startled look on her face.
A man stood before her, elegant in a deep blue coat embroidered with the cloindire crest, a silver crescent moon biting into a sword. His hair was dark, slicked back with precise care, and his hazel eyes glinted with quiet amusement.
