Back in the banquet hall, Scarlet sat with one leg crossed over the other, her glass resting lightly between two fingers. The lights above were warm, the music soft, and the nobles around her were still busy smiling, talking, and pretending to enjoy themselves.
Scarlet had already seen enough of these high class gatherings to stop finding them interesting long ago. The same polite laughter. The same fake praise. The same people pretending not to hate each other while waiting for a chance to step on someone else.
Her eyes moved lazily across the hall, pausing on faces she knew and faces she did not care about. General Aston was still seated with his usual strict face, several nobles were talking too loudly, and Jack Arefield remained as composed as ever while the women near his table kept stealing glances his way.
She lifted the glass slightly, but before she could drink, she froze mid action, her eyes narrowing.
