Chapitre 60: "Nathan Silverwell" (1/3) || Reyin

Chatter reached excessive volumes over the next half hour, guests eagerly conversing over wine and modest plates of food. When the orchestra slowed to something calmer, voices lowered, and men took with them women onto the dance floor.

I observed from my seat in the corner. Magnificent dresses twirled with speeds of color, and wine-dipped laughter soaked my ears. Everyone was giddy tonight, clumsy with excitement and vigor I couldn't muster. I looked around boredly for where my siblings might be. I could at least distract myself by watching them from a distance. But I couldn't find them. They likely had also gotten swept onto the dance floor.

A slight woman squeezed through swaying couples and sat at my lone table. I glanced at her, noticed her nearly black hair and red lips. She wasn't wearing a mask like most of the other women present. Wanting to be seen. I didn't recognize her anyway.

When she caught me gazing, I snapped my head forward.