Olivia surveyed their bows with eyes of chipped ice, offering no acknowledgement. She could read the truth in their wary glances; she was an uninvited guest in their warmth, a figure of fear rather than affection.
Had it not been for the necessity of reaching Loris without casting a shadow of suspicion, she would never have stepped foot here. It was a tactical opportunity she refused to squander.
The groom approached, his bow so deep it was almost a plea. "Welcome, Your Grace, to my humble wedding. Had I known you would grace us, I would have prepared a setting more befitting of your station."
Olivia narrowed her eyes, the silence stretching uncomfortably. "You sent an invitation addressed to me, yet you admit you expected me to stay away?"
