No more than whispers they were. The words repeated in her mind almost as melodiously as she'd recited them to the amusement of the guests.
They rang soft like murmurs at times but blared loud at others, joggling her out of that land where dreams lived.
She tossed back and forth between her bed and sheets, unable to see anything other than the faces that had surrounded her almost all night long.
Older vampires had that air about them, that veil masking the nebulous glint in their eyes. A stillness that brought no comfort to Arabella.
They appeared to cling onto every word she'd uttered, but not in innocent admiration and rather almost as if they expected her to fail every time her mouth opened in order to articulate the next line.
Although, the one thing that brought the young woman some solace was the bright and warm smile drawn across Lady Persephone's features. The subtle nods of approval she gave her way made all of it worth it at the end of that gathering.
