The music stopped the moment Alina Whitmore stepped into the ballroom and every head turned toward her at once.
She felt her heart pound as hundreds of eyes studied her green gown, whispers spreading faster than she could breathe.
She had known the dress was different from anything else in the room, but she never expected it to silence an entire crowd.
Duke Alaric Thorne stood near the tall windows holding a glass he had not touched all evening. When he saw her, he went completely stillness—no, completely still.
His eyes moved slowly over the fabric, the stitching, the fall of the sleeves as if he were reading a letter written only for him. He set down his glass and crossed the floor without hesitation, ignoring the startled glances of nearby guests.
Alina watched him approach, unsure whether to feel flattered or afraid. He stopped in front of her, close enough that she could see the sharp focus in his gaze, and asked in a low voice, "Who dressed you?"
The question hit her like a spark. It was not a compliment and it did not sound like an insult either. It sounded urgent, almost desperate, as though the answer mattered more than anything else in the room.
Alina straightened her shoulders, unwilling to let a stranger unsettle her, even a duke.
"That is not your concern," she replied, her voice steady despite the sudden dryness in her throat.
His expression flickered with something unreadable, frustration mixed with restraint.
"It is more my concern than you know," he said quietly before her aunt appeared beside her, pulling her gently away with a nervous smile aimed at the duke.