A woman with a kind of beauty that turned seasoned generals into awkward bows, was straight up looking at Marcus, her eyes didn't waver for a moment.
However, Marcus's gaze which should have stayed on her, in that very moment, drifted towards the left.
He just couldn't help it.
He noticed a man standing half-hidden near on of the side pillars. Dark hair, dark eyes, wearing a simple yet well-cut black suit that lacked the ostentatious flair of true nobility.
He wasn't staring at Violet with lust or envy or respect like most of the men and women in the hall.
Instead, he watched her with raw, aching pride. He had that look of heavy nervousness, and something deeper akin to desperation.
And Marcus's knew better to trust his instincts.
He lifted two fingers behind his back in a quick, precise gesture only Graves would catch.
