Ulrich watched Camellia walk away.
Her guards kept their distance around her as she returned toward the waiting nobles, and the people nearest the dance floor immediately shifted to receive her.
Camellia answered them as she had been taught.
She inclined her head at the correct moments, received their congratulation, and listened with the patient attention expected of Kaliantha's daughter. From across the ballroom, nothing in her behavior appeared changed.
Yet Ulrich had seen the hesitation in her eyes before she left.
He wondered whether he had involved himself where no involvement was needed.
The thought came with more irritation than regret. He had not planned to say those things. Camellia had merely stopped in front of him, and the words had left his mouth before he could decide whether they served any useful purpose.
For those few minutes, he had not felt like Ulrich Van Rubenhart.
