Sunni reached toward Bethan, who embraced her into a hug. Except it did not come about naturally, like when people haven’t seen in each other in a while. It felt strained and forced.

He extended his hand to introduce himself; Sunni glanced and sneered before reaching for it.

‘He seems rather unremarkable for a fae creature,’ Sunni seethed.

He heard Elnora gasp. ‘Mother, he’s a prince.’

‘Not an important one,’ she snapped back. Kellan cringed at those words.

He opened his mouth to defend himself, Bethan tensed beside him, and he lost the words.

‘The prince is far better company than the human that Elnora brought,’ Kai finally said.

Sam sucked in a breath and stared Kai straight in the eyes. ‘It’s lovely to see you both again.’

Kai reluctantly took his hand. Elnora observed the exchange, and Kellan wondered why Elnora never defended Sam as fiercely as he supported her.

Sunni told them they had to greet other guests and instructed them to move into the party.

He brisked past them, pretending not to notice Kai wiping his hand on his pants after shaking Sam’s hand. Kellan wanted to turn back and set his flames upon him but reluctantly decided against it, considering it would likely ruin their chances of getting the Antiphonus.

Seeing so many people at the Rennigan household surprised him. When Tharin told them about the party, he made it out to be a small affair. It appeared they were misled.

Elnora led them to a ballroom. Considering he used to live in a castle, he was not surprised, but by the looks Bethan and Sam shared, Kellan realised he and Elnora must be in the minority.

The ballroom was smaller than he expected, with two long tables with dark purple tablecloths draping over them. Neat table settings with multiple forks, spoons and knives placed in front of every chair. Every fourth chair featured a centrepiece on the table, a vase filled with a light blue forget-me-not. The Rennigans spared no expense for the occasion.

Kellan spied multiple ladies wearing fur and sequined dresses. The old revellers danced to a fast-paced song with trumpets and other brass. Some guests’ eyes landed on Kellan when he walked past them, some glaring while others watched on with curiosity.

A small gasp came from behind. He whirled around, but Bethan’s eyes looked elsewhere. Following her line of sight, Tharin Elmwood engaged in a conversation with another man similar in age. The man had pale skin, gaunt, almost malnourished.

Bethan squeezed his arm. ‘That’s Canden Whittaker.’

Sam stilled beside him as well, his eyes narrowing onto the man seated next to Tharin.

‘Canden Whittaker.’ He heard Sam whisper.

This was the man who tried to assassinate Circe, the one who held a gun on Bethan’s body.

Canden will be a dead man if he ever comes near her.