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Chapter Forty-Three: Brains, Who Needs 'em?
“At what point do you think we should leave the ball?” Vincent asked as the room’s buzz resumed.
“I was hoping t-,”
“Your Grace!” A young dark-haired boy in a formal suit, with a large red gem encrusted on what looked like a scarf, tucked into his topcoat, yelled as he approached me with a broad smile on his face. He stopped aggressively only a few inches from my space then bowed quickly and then reached out to take my hand, but Vincent pushed his way to stand before me.
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