When my eyes land their mark, it’s Prince Draven, who still remains unmoving. I keep my face neutral, but my whole body ignites at those eyes. Like ice. They are the palest blue I have ever seen. The dim orange glow from the lanterns still cannot mask the pools of liquid light. Sharp diamonds pierce into me with a hardness that is impenetrable. I follow his line of sight and realize he’s glaring at the contact of my father’s hand on my arm, never straying. Looking about three seconds from firing sharpened icicles at him.
