The room’s transformation astounded Reid. Hundreds of candles hung from the ceiling, resembling stars in the night sky. She started to sense a theme. A long table covered with food was situated along the east wall while tables lined the perimeter of the room. The middle had been left open to form a dance area. At the front of the room, there was a raised dais. Colbert sat on one of the throne chairs while Nara and Henrick remained on the steps holding hands. A few musicians were set up in one corner, and they began to play a slow tune.

Reid knew she was expected to dance with Dexter. When they stopped in the middle of the room, he raised his arm, silencing the musicians.

“We want to thank you all for coming to celebrate with us,” Dexter said. “Please, feel free to eat, drink, and dance.” He gave a curt nod before heading over to the food table.

Not sure what to do, Reid followed, forcing a smile. He picked up a plate, then started piling it with food. “I don’t think you’re supposed to be eating right now,” she said under her breath.

He glanced up at her. “I’m hungry.”

She was still too nervous to eat. “I think we should mingle first.”

“That’s because you’re a woman from northern Marsden. No one cares about that sort of thing in Axian.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t be daft.” It had nothing to do with being a woman or where she was from. This was supposed to be a show, and they had a part to play.

“Lady Reid,” a woman said, capturing her attention. “It is so nice to meet you. I’m Clara Rothsborn.”

Stifling her irritation with Dexter, Reid forced a pleasant expression as she turned toward the woman, not sure if Clara belonged to one of the ruling families. Not wanting to say something and offend the woman, especially if her name was one Reid should know, she replied with a generic statement. She’d thought Dexter would jump in the conversation to make the necessary introductions. Instead, he shoved a piece of bread in his mouth, completely ignoring her.

Reid noticed Colbert heading for the exit. Worried his wound had reopened, she excused herself and hurried across the room, catching him just before he reached the door. “You’re leaving already?”

“I am.”

“You didn’t tear a stitch, did you?”

He shook his head. “It’s healing nicely.”

“Then why don’t you stay?” Reid needed a friendly face—someone who treated her with kindness and was her friend.

“I don’t think I should.”

She nodded, even though she wasn’t sure what he meant by that. “Your mother did a fabulous job organizing this event on such short notice. Even my dress matches the room. Everything looks beautiful.”

“I agree,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers.