Without hesitation, I turned toward the stairs, my fingers closing around the silver wire at my waist—but in a flash, Lancelot blocked my path. "Emory, it's time you went home."
"I—" What was I supposed to do at home?
Without waiting for a reply, he seized my wrist and led me to Lady Bella, his lips curving into a courteous smile. "Lady Bella, I trust you won't object if I personally escort Emory out? As the party's guest of honor, she deserves special treatment."
Lady Bella's voice was icy with scorn. "Your Majesty, surely you're not mistaking Emory for that witch Kaelia from years past?"
Lancelot chuckled darkly, his voice deliberately smooth and magnetic. "Hah... my memory isn't as keen as yours, Lady Bella. Kaelia—that presumptuous woman. Had you not mentioned her, I might have forgotten her entirely."
