As applause breaks at the end of the dance, she makes the mistake of locking eyes with a spectator across the room, a large-bosomed woman in an imperious sapphire gown and raven hair piled up elaborately. Her already pale skin seems to drain of color, and it’s only belatedly that Ilapara realizes that the woman isn’t staring at her at all but at Tuk. She nudges him with an elbow to catch his attention, but she needn’t have; he’s already staring back at the woman with coal-black eyes. “I believe we’ve caught the host’s attention,” he says. He drains his glass in a few gulps and hands it over to
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