He stilled at the vehemence in her words. His shoulders straightened, and those thunderstorm eyes found hers. He was mad. He was still very mad that someone had presented her like that without her permission. “You wish to allow them to treat you that way?”

“No. But we could have fixed the problem without terrifying everyone.”

Fordham lifted an eyebrow. “What would be the fun in that?”

Kerrigan released a breath of tension. “I’m a bad influence on you.”

“Certainly.”

She fought to keep the smile off of her face but failed. What Fordham had done was for her benefit, and she couldn’t be angry with him for it even if it had been extreme. Likely, no one would forget to call her Kerrigan ever again.

“Quite an entrance.”

Kerrigan turned to find Hadrian walking toward them with Clover on his arm. His bright blue hair had been tamed into a darker blue, left loose and curling on the ends, as was the fashion.

“You know me too well.”

Hadrian laughed and pulled her in for a hug. “Too well to know that you hate that kind of attention.”

She shrugged. “Those days are going to have to be behind me. Now, I’m a little faerie princess.”

Clover snorted and tugged at a loose strand of hair framing her face. Kerrigan was surprised to see her here, considering she hated these kinds of parties and hated even more wearing a dress, which she was currently in. A summer green number that highlighted her brown skin and lithe figure. Even her black bob had been tangled up into a perfect little coif at the top of her head. She looked so far from the Wastes card dealer.

“You look… feminine,” Kerrigan said with raised eyebrows.

“Oh, shove it,” Clover said. She plucked at the swath of silk. “I hate this, but it was the only way we could think to get me inside to see Darby’s debut.”

“I’m glad you’re here.”

Clover picked at a loose thread on her shoulder. “Yeah. It should be entertaining at least.”

“Darby has waited for this her entire life,” Hadrian said.

“I know, sweetheart,” Clover drawled, falling into street slang, as she always did with Hadrian. Kerrigan could never quite decide if they were going to rip each other’s heads off or fall into bed. “Doesn’t mean it’s right.”