“So, Cal,” Rafe says, lounging back in his chair like a proper scoundrel. “I was under the impression you would be Serafina’s date to the ball. But I hear you’ve got yourself a new American bird.” Callum bristles. He hates being called Cal. Apparently, he doesn’t mind Callie, which in my estimation is far worse. “You sure seem to be apprised of the royal gossip,” Callum says, his tone sharper than I've heard it before.
