The night progressed into an elegant finish. Faustina ate in accordance with noble standards; devouring a piece of art rather than a delicious meal. She met several nobles along the way—those who had the audacity to inquire, greet, or even dare to approach the Feuerlons.
She easily forgot their names.
They went for posthaste prattles, asking them in regards to their well-being, mainly Lucas, and the Duke and some mentions of the Duchess as well as Bethrion. And then...
"Who might this be?"
"Oh. This is my little sister, Faustina."
"Little sister?" Says one. "So the rumors are real? O-oh! Pardon me."
And among many other variations with comparable responses. Some had sweet simpers as they glanced over Faustina; some with perplexion; the others with taunt and coldness.
