The woman was moving with a purpose. She cut through the crowd like a ship cutting through water. The crowd parted for her.
She was beautiful. Stunningly so. She wore a dress of crimson silk that was cut low, daringly so for the court. Ruby necklaces dripped from her throat like drops of blood. Her hair was piled low in an intricate style, adorned with gold pins.
She stopped right in front of Marissa's table.
She didn't bow. She didn't curtsy. She stood there, looking down at Marissa with a smile that was all teeth and no warmth.
She snapped her own fan open. It was red, matching her dress.
"Duchess Marissa," the woman said. Her voice was sultry, low, and confident. It was the voice of a woman who knew she held power.
"You are sitting all alone," the woman noted, tilting her head. "You aren't bored, are you?"
