He’s perfect for my current mood; I’m looking for a challenge.

I gesture toward the green felt table after he picks up his own cue stick. “Gentlemen first.”

Brett gives me a devilish grin that probably would affect a girl not already in love with one guy and practically engaged to another.

“So, is that what Americans wear to party?” he asks, glancing over my casual attire as he lines up his first shot.

“I guess so,” I reply, taken aback by his question. “There certainly weren’t any guys wearing suits.”

“Did you go to parties there?”

I look at him, surprised. No one at Edgewood has ever asked me about my time in the States. Even Charles avoids the subject.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Is that what you wore?”

I let out an uncomfortable laugh, finally realizing where he’s going with this line of questioning. “No.”

I tell him the truth just as Charles enters the room and comes over to me. I’m surprised it’s taken him this long to track me down.

“Vivienne, what are you doing?”

“Playing pool,” I reply, feeling a flash of déjà vu. I know my voice conveys an unsaid “obviously.” A few whispers sound around the quiet room.

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Charles asks, looking at Brett with a hint of apprehension. He glances to my agents for back-up, and I smother a laugh. I doubt Charles will be encouraging me to attend any more Edgewood parties anytime soon.

“I’m sure,” I say.

Brett has finished his first few shots and is leaning against the edge of the table, watching Charles and me closely. I leave Charles standing alone to take my starting shots, easily knocking out several more balls than Brett managed to.

He raises his eyebrows. “The future queen can play. Who knew?”

He goes again, then it’s my turn. I round the table, looking for the perfect angle. Suddenly, my foot slides along the floor. I grab the edge of the table to keep myself vertical. Charles rushes to my side, along with two agents.

“I’m fine!” I hold my arm out to keep them back as I look down at the small puddle of liquid I slipped on. Probably someone’s spilled drink.

They follow my silent command and back up. I need a minute. Because suddenly, I’m not playing pool in a Marcedenian mansion. I’m in the kitchen in the blue house, being caught by Jace.

This is why I shouldn’t chug vodka. Because I can picture the worry in his gray eyes when he caught me.

“Vivienne…” Charles starts, approaching me cautiously, like I’m a wounded animal.

“Don’t touch me,” I snap, moving away from his touch. I feel nauseous and unwieldy. The only person I want right now is Jace, and that angers me. I’ve never been anything but independent. I don’t need him. I can’t.

One of my agents appears at my side. “Are you ready to leave, Your Highness?”

“Not yet.”

The last thing I feel like right now is being left alone with my thoughts. I take a deep breath and walk over to the same spot I was headed to before, taking care to avoid the small puddle. One of the maids is already cleaning it up.