It had grown into her deeply, as such appraisals remained consistent, conspicuous as the back of her palm. Only when she set her teacup down, did her lips curve deliberately.
"You do exaggerate," She said at last, her tone light, though the faint gleam in her eyes betrayed her satisfaction. She yearned for more than just exaggeration.
"Exaggerate?" Lavinia echoed, nearly scandalized. "My dear Celia, if anything, we diminish it. The entire ballroom was speaking of you."
"Indeed," Beatrice added quickly. "You were the most talked-about lady of the evening without question. I overheard Lady Morris herself say she had never seen His Royal Highness so… engaged,"
"Engaged is too mild a word," Ophelia interjected. "Enchanted, I would dare say. You needed to see the look in his eyes when he led you to the dancefloor,"
"Enthralled," Lavinia corrected, with dramatic emphasis.
"Captivated rather," Beatrice insisted.
