“I can pay for a taxi to get back to base now. If you would rather not have me tagging along making you look bad, I can leave,” Fane offered, glancing at the lift.
Orlov considered the man in front of him. He didn’t exude the rockstar confidence that his physique and clothing tried to supply him with. Fane shifted uncomfortably under the prince’s gaze. “Stay. Join me. It’ll be fun,” Orlov motioned for them to start walking.
“If you’re sure,” Fane hopped to match Orlov’s longer stride. They walked the length of the hall to the far end where a double door opened to the dining hall. Inside, at least two hundred people mingled in formal wear. Fane’s nerves went on edge. He wasn’t overly partial to events like this. He had enough difficulty with the more casual party that Zephyr had forced him into that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. He felt underdressed standing next to Orlov.
“Shall we?” Orlov whispered. Fane could sense the man’s nerves. He followed his lead though as he strode confidently into the room. All eyes settled on his gleaming costume. That was a quick way to draw attention. Fane wanted to hide behind him. He shook the feeling though, realizing it’d deter from Orlov’s image if he did that. He straightened his shoulders, trying to emanate a sense of entitled complacency. The people streaming around the room could very well fire him that night, but for this night, he was at the hand of a prince, and that had to be some kind of position of honor, right?
Orlov made for the general, the big honcho of this particular travesty called a dinner party. It was only right that Orlov would greet him early in the evening. “Prince Orlov, nice to see you made it,” the general shook hands with the prince, a stern smile plastered to his face.
RT @ThorntonGibsonK: I can’t wait to read what happens next in The Kavordian Library! – #scifi, #fantasy, #webseries #booksTweet