That evening's dinner was an anxiety ridden affair. Prince Leo again acted as if Violet didn't exist. He danced with one lady after another, almost as if he knew that was the way to make her nerves fray.
He danced song after song not only with Ilse but with several other nobodies. He even danced once with Kathryn Danner, who couldn't have looked more pathetically grateful, as if the Archangel Michael himself had asked to be in her company.
Violet sat in her chair and watched, barely moving and taut with tension. Had the little fool Alexei passed her message on to Leo incorrectly? Or had he forgotten to share it altogether?
Maybe the very worst had occurred - he'd given Leo her message correctly and the prince just wasn't interested.
What was she supposed to do then?
Violet felt a cold sweat dampen her back. She looked fixedly at the marble floor tiles, trying to calm her wild thoughts.
