NOLAN
Luna had been standing near the bar when she caught her son’s eye. She sauntered over to him with two flutes of champagne in hand, looking smug. She handed one glass to Nolan when she reached him.
“I take it you had something to do with this?” he asked.
Luna arched an eyebrow and shrugged slightly, as if to say, “Guilty.”
She raised her glass and Nolan followed suit. “Your wife is very creative,” she said. “She did most of this on her own. She wanted to surprise you.”
Nolan tapped his glass lightly against hers. “Mission accomplished.”
“To Yena,” Luna said, and they sipped their drinks in unison.
“Where is she, by the way?”
“Backstage.” Luna used her glass to point in that direction. “You’ll see her soon.”
The prince wiped his mouth with his hand, trying to conceal
