Red wine spilled across her robes, staining the white fabric with streams of crimson.
She did not appear to notice. She stared at Octavia with the recognition of someone understanding that the political landscape had just shifted irreversibly.
The rules of engagement had changed. The game itself had become far more dangerous.
Caspian's body began to tremble visibly. His hands were gripping the balustrade so tightly that his knuckles went completely bloodless, draining of color until they appeared skeletal.
His jaw clenched so tightly that his temples throbbed. His breathing became shallow and rapid, approaching hyperventilation.
Duke Asher's composed expression remained in place, but something in his eyes had shifted. His calculation was accelerating.
