Arwenna trembles, the rain slicking her pale hair to her face. “And what am I supposed to do?” Talan cuts her a sharp look. “Curtsy, Countess. You are supposed to curtsy to a princess.” She pales, frozen, a statue made not of marble or bronze, but of pure outrage. He exhales, then arches an eyebrow. “Must I really repeat myself, Lady Arwenna?” His voice is quieter now, mocking. “You know the rules better than most. Or have you somehow forgotten even the most basic etiquette?” Gritting her teeth, Arwenna keeps her eyes locked on me. Her lip curls slightly, baring her canines. Though vibrating
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a MAN
