Olivia.
Where was she now? Was she safe? I ached to see her again, to know when—if—she’d return to me.
Would I?
“Looks to be a grand evening,” the count mused as we crossed the foyer.
I forced a polite smile. “Doesn’t it?”
I wanted the night to end in success or failure.
The count had spared no expense in costuming all of us, even Tristan, though he looked utterly out of place.
I glanced at him.
His wide-eyed stare made it painfully clear that he had never been to a party like this.
I smirked. “You don’t get to partake, Tristan. Sorry.”
His mouth snapped shut. He turned to face me, suspicion flickering across his face. “What did you say?”
I gestured toward the lavish ballroom, where sensual chaos unfolded beyond the gilded archways. “All of this?” I waved a hand at the glistening bodies, the breathless moans, the forbidden indulgence. “Off-limits to you. Do you understand?”
Tristan rolled his eyes, flashing a far too arrogant smirk for his own good.
“Off-limits. Yes, master.” His tone dripped with disdain.
Arms crossed, Tristan arched a brow at me. “I suppose you get to do whatever you feel like?”
I met his gaze, unflinching.
He had no idea what this night truly entailed.
“I have no interest in whores, nor in the kind of depravity displayed here.” My words were edged with ice. “Nor should you unless you want to leave with something far worse than regret. Do you think sixteenth-century Italians were immune to venereal diseases?”
He scowled but didn’t look entirely deterred. There was still intrigue behind his irritation.
The count gave a low chuckle, his eyes gleaming as he surveyed the hedonistic crowd. “Ah, but we’re here to enjoy, no? There are whores aplenty. Do what you like. Drink freely! Indulge!”
Tristan huffed in English. “So, you two have all the fun, and I get nothing.”
The count’s gaze turned to me. “What is your manservant saying?”
I barely glanced at Tristan. “Complaining, as usual.”
The count laughed, clapping a hand on my shoulder. “Pity. Hand him a drink and tell him to relax. I intend to do the same. I’m hoping to find Raul and catch up.”
With that, he turned and melted into the throng of guests.
I exhaled and turned back to Tristan. “You’re going to find a quiet place in the corner and sit. That’s it.”
His expression was flat behind his mask. “Like a good boy?”
“Yes, like a good boy. Can you just do as you’re told for once?”
Tristan rolled his eyes but shuffled toward a chair shoved against the wall. He plopped down with an exaggerated thud, spreading his arms over the armrests like a man settling into a cage.
“How’s this?” Tristan drawled, lounging in his chair like a man shackled to boredom. “Satisfied?”
