Not that he minded. He always hated those stupid parties, where everyone’s focus was always on social status and getting what they wanted. At least at the less… dignified parties he normally attended, people were themselves, even when being “themselves” meant being drunk and obnoxious.
The only person left aside from the servants was his cousin Zelda, who was picking over the leftover hors d’oeuvres by the buffet table. Isaac approached, and she turned, daintily popping a cold scallop into her mouth.
“Cousin,” she said, her mouth full. “Is Bianca okay? I liked her. I hope she’s not dead.”
Isaac resisted the urge to roll his eyes and cut straight to the chase. “Have you seen a small ring lying around?” he asked, searching the floor. “I think it was pinky-sized, with a moonstone
