DRASA POVI sat at the long dining table, my back impossibly straight, fingers poised too perfectly on the fork like I was acting out a part in a dinner play I never auditioned for. I felt like I was in a costume, inside someone else’s life. Maybe I was.The clinking of silverware was the only thing that filled the heavy silence in my ears for the first few minutes. Everyone around the table looked so at ease, so polished, like this was some kind of weekly gathering they all rehearsed for. Even Andra, seated beside me, looked like she belonged here, which she did and nothing was wrong, hair in a soft updo, napkin folded perfectly in her lap, smile faint but present.Cassian sat diagonally across from me, too close for comfort. His eyes flicked toward me every so often, and every time, I ignored them. I didn’t want to meet them, I didn’t want to drown.Lucien Deverux, Cassian’s father, sat at the head of the table. He carried himself like royalty, every movement was controlled, ev
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