By the time dinner rolls around, I'm running on caffeine, sarcasm, and a mild breakdown I had in the powder room earlier. I don't know how I made it through the day. Honestly. It's all a blur of nodding politely, pretending to listen, and trying not to throw my coffee cup at someone who said, "You look so natural in this role!"
Yeah. Natural. Like I've been doing this since birth. Like I didn't just learn last week that the man I sleep next to every night might be under some kind of vampire-werewolf mind spell. No big deal.
I sit at the dinner table, poking at some fancy dish I can't pronounce, barely hearing what the diplomat from Elaran is saying about trade agreements or import regulations or something equally soul-crushing.
August is seated across from me. Smiling. Engaging. Charmin
