Chapter 10 Garden Confrontations

• The ballroom shimmered with opulence, the kind of place where fairy tales began—and sometimes ended. Gilded chandeliers spilled light across crystal-draped tables, and violins painted sound through the air like silk ribbons. Brandy had floated through the evening like a dream cloaked in ice blue satin, her arm threaded through Konstantine’s, her every movement echoing elegance and restraint.
• Since their dance, he hadn’t left her side. They’d spoken in low voices about art and war, about wine and childhood, and all the while she felt it—that slow and undeniable pull between them. She laughed more than she had in months. His eyes barely left her, and her heart betrayed her more with every glance he gave.
• They were in their own little world.