With a resigned sigh, Rafael ran a hand through his hair, the tension in his shoulders unmissable. "A nightclub isn't exactly the most appropriate place for—"
"—a princess?" Amara finished his sentence, quirking an eyebrow. "Are you saying I'm too fragile for a little dancing?"
Rafael's jaw clenched, caught off guard. "No, Your Highness, I didn't mean—"
"Perfect," Amara interjected smoothly, casting a victorious glance at Leah. "Then it's settled. We'll keep it low-key, and I promise to stay out of trouble. Besides, someone will be there to make sure of it."
Rafael looked at her, his reluctance slowly turning into resignation. "I see I don't have much of a choice in this."
"Exactly," Amara said, grinning as she reached for Leah's hand. "Let's go get ready."