Talia had been pacing for thirty minutes.
Back and forth across Aegis's study, heels clicking against hardwood, hands gesturing wildly as she ranted about wedding preparations.
"—and then she has the audacity to suggest ivory silk. Ivory! As if I'm some blushing virgin bride who—"
Aegis leaned back in her chair, chin propped on her fist, watching Talia wear a groove into her floor.
[Gods, she's hot when she's pissed.]
"—the seating charts alone are a nightmare. She wants House Goldspire's delegation in the front row, obviously, but that means moving House Redbrook to the second tier, and Lord Redbrook has been feuding with Lady Pemberton for three years over some land dispute—"
All sharp edges and barely contained fire, black hair whipping around every time she pivoted. Aegis could watch this all day.
"—and the venue." Talia stopped, pressing her palms to her temples. "The Grand Cathedral of the Eternal Flame. Hate that place. I'd rather get married in a barn."
