Page 7 of Rite of Blood and Secrets

Which is exactly what Bastian wants me to do. I don't know why we used a different entrance than the other people, but it can't be a good thing.

I step towards them only for Bastian to pull me back.

"You're not to talk to any of them," he instructs me.

I give him a tight smile. "Very well." I don't like it, but clearly he has a plan. I just have to hope he returns to being the brother I love dearly after it's been enacted, rather than this nervous version of himself who keeps making demands but doesn't explain them. It's becoming somewhat exhausting to deal with.

I unhook my arm from Bastian's and drift over to one of the food tables, examining the array there. I don't even know what half of the dishes are, other than more impressive than I could ever dream of making at home.

"A little overindulgent, don't you think?"

I jump at the sound of the man's voice, and Pip lets out a protective growl. "I'm sorry," I murmur.

"Is that an apology or are you asking me to repeat myself?" the man beside me asks. He can't be more than twenty, with short dark hair, a handsome face, and more lace on the sleeves of his jacket than I have on my whole dress.

"An apology," I respond. "This is my first time at an event like this."

He nods in understanding. "I remember my first time too, it was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. Do you have a name?"

"Beatrice," I respond.

"Beatrice," he says. "It's pretty. And suits you."

"Thank you? I think. I've never really thought about if my name fits me."

He chuckles. "Well, it does. I'm Marcus."

"It's nice to meet you," I say.

Pip pops her head around my legs and Marcus' eyes light up. He crouches down. "And who might you be?"

"This is Pip," I say. "It's her first time at one of these events too."

"It's good to meet you, Pip," he says, holding out his hand.

She steps forward and sniffs at him before pushing her head into it.

"She likes you," I say needlessly.

"That's good for me, I've heard dogs are excellent judges of character," Marcus responds. "Do you mind if I talk to your mistress again?" he asks my dog.

Pip just gives him a blank look, but he takes it as an affirmative and stands back up.

"I didn't know if I could bring her, but I didn't want to leave her at home," I admit.

"I think she's an excellent guest, and probably much better at conversation than some of the stuffy old lords in here," he says.

I laugh. "I'm not sure you're supposed to say that." A quick look around the room does have me wondering who he's talking about, not one of the nobles appears to be any older than he is.

"Perhaps not, but it's the truth." His eyes twinkle as he says it.

"I don't know any of the stuffy old lords to be able to form an opinion."

"Then you should count yourself lucky. As would I, if you'd agree to a dance," he says, holding out his hand.

I stare at it for a moment. "I don't know the steps."

"I can teach you," he promises.

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