Falcon had never felt so uncomfortable in his life. He knew it wasn't the tux, though the bow tie snatched at his throat whenever he moved his head. It was the public eye, the bright lights, and the multitude of guests milling about each other, talking, laughing, and appreciating each other's attire in loud voices.
He glanced down at his clothes, hanging tight to his body and doing justice to it, or at least he hoped so. It was a smartly cut navy blue suit that Cyan had handpicked, almost identical to the artist's suit himself.
He cast one last look at his hair, parted on the side and hanging loose around his ears, and grimaced at how much his face was showing. Then, with a sigh, he set out to look for Aurelia.
The house was a frenzy of movement. Maids and servants hurrying like the world was ending. Falcon glanced around for Aurelia, she had disappeared after they had reached the house in the late morning, mumbling something about helping Teal get ready.
