“I’m sorry for tonight,” he says, reluctantly stepping away.
“Don’t apologize for something that’s not your fault.”
He sits on a bench near the fire, staring at the dancing flames.
“I am disappointed about one thing, though,” I say, joining him.
He turns from the flames to face me. “What’s that?”
“I didn’t get to see you in your mask,” I tease.
“It isn’t the same one you’re accustomed to.”
“I believe I would have still liked it.”
“I’m sure I would have liked yours as well.” He shakes his head, averting his gaze. When he looks back, he wears a smile. “We can still go. You said you’ve never attended a masquerade, and I hate to disappoint you.”
Suddenly serious, I sit up. “Brahm, no.”
“It’s fine. Mother is too fond of her drink. You saw how tipsy she was at dinner. She was almost passed out when I was leaving the ballroom. She’ll never know, and no one else will care.”
“Then why does it feel like such a bad idea?”
He laughs. “The choice is yours, but I promise it will be all right.”
“If I go, will I be sent away again? Will I be commanded to stand in a corner and forced to watch you spend the evening with Evony?”
Brahm’s expression darkens with the memory. “The only one who outranks me is already incoherent.”
I hesitate. “Regina did go to all that trouble of ordering me this gown…”
Brahm’s eyes dip to the sapphire creation just long enough for me to feel the weight of his attention, and then he meets my eyes once more. “She did.”
“Maybe we’ll go,” I say. “But only for a little bit.”