I'm supposed to be paying attention to the droning voices of the sycophants around me, but honestly, their words are nothing but a dull hum in the back of my mind. We're all standing here like pawns, waiting for the royal family to make their grand entrance. But me? I'm distracted. And it's not by any of the pomp or the gilded decorations of this blasted banquet hall.
No. My attention is solely on the figure across the room, the one whose back is currently covered in delicate lace that clings to him in all the right ways.
I thought Noelle looked breathtaking when I first saw him tonight. His outfit—light pastel colors that make him look like something out of a dream—made my chest tighten the moment he walked out in it. That pale green silk shirt paired with the light grey high-waisted trousers? It shows off every elegant line of his slender figure. I was mesmerized when I saw him from the front, but now that he's turned around? Saints help me.
