Troy
I had lost Maeve in the swell of the crowd an hour ago. Around me was a sea of finery, moving in the rhythm of a string quartet. I had never witnessed such luxury, and a large part of me hoped I wouldn’t be expected to hold parties of such a size when Maeve and I inevitably moved to Avondale and lived in the decrepit and long-neglected castle along the shore.
We’d have quite a bit of work to do before we would ever be able to be the kind of hosts that Ethan and Rosalie were right at this moment.
But this wasn’t my party.
It was, in all aspects, for Rowan.
I could just see the top of his head as I leaned against one of the columns on a far wall, a tall glass of scotch in my hand as I watched the crowd. He was talking to a group of men and their companions, likely Lunas or Betas’ w
