He must have been good friends with the Carmines, indeed; he navigated the palace as though he’d wandered its halls a thousand times before, and as he walked, he gave orders to their staff with a breezy, self-effacing confidence. Every now and again, however, Niamh caught one of them snickering or whispering furtively to another as they passed. Sinclair, if he noticed at all, did not react. Niamh burned with curiosity. If even the servants felt bold enough to smirk at him, perhaps he’d counted himself among the outsiders at court.
