Ch. 32: Werewolf Ball (3)
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uncoreseted silk dress without a hoop or any sort of undergarment, as was elvish custom. The lilac fabric clung to her in ways that made Michael fear looking at her too long. Her hair had been pulled back from her crown with a silver headdress that resembled a band of ivy climbing up a castle wall, but the rest of it fell free in loose curls down her back and brushed her waist.

              They walked in silence. Michael had tried to strike a casual conversation as they made their way to the throne room where they were to stand with their parents to meet their guests as they arrived, but Atalanta had cut off every attempt with a curt single-word answer.

              He glanced sideway...

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