Collin moved through the crowd with a practiced ease, a silver tray balanced perfectly in his hand as he served drinks to guests who barely spared him a glance. His eyes, however, never left Kathrine.
She was laughing with a group of children near the garden, her small hands clutching a balloon, completely unaware of the danger circling her. Collin's jaw tightened. If things had gone according to plan, he would have already drawn her away—toward the quieter corridor, toward the stairs, toward Roseline's carefully calculated distraction.
But something—or rather, someone—was in the way.
Gorge.
The man stood close to Kathrine, vigilant without being obvious, his posture relaxed but his gaze sharp. Collin's fingers curled around the tray.
Why is this man not leaving? Collin sneered inwardly.
