*Stephan*
The carriages we saw arriving should have served as a clue. Still, I'm taken aback when my brothers and I are escorted into the parlor to see such a mass of people.
"Good Goddess," Raphael murmurs. "There must be at least fifty people here. I would hate to see what she considers a large dinner party."
I suppose I should have anticipated that all conversation would cease and all eyes would turn toward the door when we, the heirs of Snow moon, enter. Damnation, but I think facing the rogue army might have been a sight easier.
A woman of average height and build with hair that the passage of time has faded to a faint red bustle over. As she nears, her green eyes sparkle, and it's that green that would have given her identity away if Mary hadn't been following closely on her heel
