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“How have you been, Luke?” Piper asked, placing her hand back on my arm.
Thistime I picked her hand up and dropped it into the space between us. “You are not allowed to call me that.”
She pouted again, batting her eyelashes as if trying to make me notice the color. They might have been brown or bright purple for all I cared. “Why? You let Daphne.”
“Because Daphne is my fucking fiancée,” I growled. I had to restrain my tone, my mother’s warning to keep the peace ringing through my head. “She gets to call me whatever she wants.”
Piper raised an eyebrow. “Even after leaving?”
I was tired of this fucking conversation. “She was preparing to join this court asmy wife. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
I felt the ghost of a hand reaching for me, but I couldn’t be stopped.
I got out of that conversation with Piper, but was stopped by another conversation that stole my attention for longer than I wanted.
Until that attention was replaced with white hot fury.
Chapter 9
Daphne
I was going to blow a fuse. Normally this is where I thrived, turning on the charm that had been molded as carefully as a sculpture. Informed by years of building up knowledge of how to deal with people and what made them like you.
But doing that while trying to act like everything was okay between Lukas and I was exhausting. Add Piper to the mix and I was just about ready to take a dive off the balcony into the sea.
I didn’t have the energy to dodge Piper’s passive aggressive comments. She tried to undermine me every step of the way, reminding me that she was the one who was supposed to be doing this.
The only thing I was grateful for was that she’d never turned her attention to Lukas. Had she done so, she’d have found herself conveniently without her life.
I knew it was wrong, especially since Lukas would think me crazy for being that jealous when there was nothing but duty and brittle friendship between us, but jealousy was a mean little bitch. One who didn’t care whether her appearance was warranted.
After excusing myself with a barely restrained glare at Lukas, I slipped out onto the wrap-around balcony outside the ballroom.
The bite of the salt in the air immediately calmed my nerves. The only thing that would make them go away was slipping fully into the water. But I would take what I could get out here.
I breathed in, letting the salt and sea replace the pain.
“You look like you need a drink.”
I looked up to find Sebastian walking toward me, a tumbler in his sculpted hand. Everything about him looked carefully selected, like each of his features was created by a master of his craft.
He was perfect, objectively speaking. Black hair the exact length to be undone and neat at the same time. Eyes that weren’t any distinguishable color, but an array of blue, green, gold, and brown. Tall and lean, but with a quiet strength that rumbled beneath his well-pressed clothing.
“That I do,” I said, grabbing the glass right out of his hand.
Sebastian chuckled. “Not like I planned on drinking that or anything.”
I ignored it and tossed back the whiskey in one sip, relishing in the burn down my throat.
“Damn.” Sebastian was looking at me with curious eyes when I set the glass back in his hand.
“Too many people,” I said by way of explanation.
Sebastian leaned both forearms on the railing, then extended his free hand to flick the protective barrier keeping the sea back.
The barrier rippled from the contact, but held strong. With a little push of power, I pulled a droplet of water through and flung it onto his hand.
“Do that too hard and you'll break the barrier,” I joked, even though it was damn near impervious to harm. "Can't have your clothes getting wet, can we?"
