Maximilian's grip on my hand tightens the second we enter the museum, making me glance in his direction. Is he... nervous? Or is he trying to be reassuring with me? Either possibility is beyond anything I would expect of a man who seconds ago had just threatened me so I would behave. The music inside engulfs us. It's a mellow, classical song, which is instantly drowned by the hundreds of conversations taking place inside the dimly lit space. So many eyes follow us as he leads me toward an enormous bar set up in an open courtyard. Fairy lights hang from fruit trees, giving the place an ethereal, fairy-like atmosphere. "Do you want champagne?" he asks, not bothering to wait for me to answer. He grabs two bubbly flutes from a waiter's tray and hands one to me. "Even if you can't shift, I presume you can hold your alcohol down." "Maybe. Maybe not," I say teasingly, downing the champagne in one go. It makes my throat ache but I do my best to conceal it. The thinnest smile forms