Grim turned toward the voice that had called his name, his hand instinctively moving toward his sword's hilt before he caught himself. The ballroom was no battlefield, despite how it sometimes felt navigating the treacherous currents of imperial politics.
Standing ten paces away was Mira Luminaris, and the sight of her made his stomach turn.
She was devastating in the way that storms were beautiful. She was dangerous, captivating, and utterly destructive to anyone foolish enough to get caught in her path.
Her dress was midnight blue silk that clung to curves that had launched dozens of political alliances and twice as many scandals.
This was Julius Luminaris's only daughter. The family's secret weapon. The one they sent when swords and gold failed to achieve their objectives.
