Eve stayed in the bath for exactly twenty minutes....long enough to let the heat work its magic, not so long that she’d erge drowsy rather than alert....then dried off and found the clothes Silas had laid out on the bed.
Dark pants that fit perfectly, a deep green blouse that brought out her eyes, a jacket that was sohow both elegant and practical. Clothing that said I am professional and prepared without being ostentatiously formal.
And the neckline....the neckline was cut just low enough that the top of the glowing mark would be visible. Deliberate. Exactly as Raphael had suggested.
She dressed carefully, then stood before the full-length mirror and looked at herself.
The mark pulsed steadily over her heart, visible above the blouse’s neckline, impossible to miss. Her eyes were clear and sharp. Her posture was straight despite the lingering soreness. Her hair fell in damp waves that were already drying into sothing presentable.
She looked....
She looked like soone who could hold her own in a diplomatic negotiation with an ancient Court ambassador.
She hoped.
The formal sitting room had been prepared with the sa careful attention to detail that characterized everything the Blackwood pack did.
Fresh flowers on the side tables....chosen, Eve noticed with approval, for elegance rather than overpowering scent. Seating arranged to create a conversation space that was intimate without being cramped. Tea service ready on the low table, bone china that was beautiful without being pretentious. The lighting was natural from the large windows, supplented by soft lamps that created warmth without harshness.
It was perfect. Professional, welcoming, and unmistakably the territory of a powerful pack that had its act together.
Eve stood near the window with Raphael, going through final preparations while they waited for Isadora’s arrival. Damian stood near the door, perfectly positioned to greet their guest while also serving as a subtle reminder that this was his territory she was entering.
"Rember," Raphael said quietly, his voice pitched for Eve’s ears only, "let her set the initial tone. She’ll likely open with pleasantries, formal greetings, establishing the Traditional faction’s goodwill. Accept it graciously without effusive gratitude."
"Gracious but not grateful," Eve repeated. "Got it."
"And if she brings up the power surge....which she will, either directly or indirectly....you acknowledge it calmly. You don’t owe her an explanation, but you don’t hide from the question either."
"Because hiding suggests sha or uncertainty," Eve said, rembering the earlier conversation.
"Exactly." Raphael’s hand ca to rest briefly on her shoulder....a gesture of support and approval. "You’re ready for this, Evangeline. Trust your training. Trust your instincts."
Eve nodded, feeling the settling calm that ca from thorough preparation eting genuine confidence. She was ready. As ready as she could be for her first formal eting with a representative of the Seraphim Court.
The doorbell chid....a clear, pleasant sound that sohow still made Eve’s pulse spike.
She was here. Ambassador Isadora. The Traditional faction’s envoy. The first real test of everything Raphael had taught her about Court politics.
Eve took a breath, felt the bond pulse reassuringly from all three mates, and straightened her spine.
Damian moved to the entryway, his bearing shifting subtly into sothing more formal, more alpha. Eve heard the door open, heard the low murmur of formal greetings, heard footsteps approaching.
Then Isadora entered the sitting room, and Eve’s first thought was: She looks exactly like soone who has survived centuries of Court politics.
Tall....at least five-ten without the heeled boots she wore....with dark hair styled in an intricate updo that was practical and elegant simultaneously. Her face was ageless in the way powerful supernaturals often were, beautiful in a way that was more striking than soft. Her eyes were dark gray, almost silver at the edges, and they moved over the room with the comprehensive assessnt of soone who missed nothing.
Her clothing was formal Court attire....deep purple that marked her faction affiliation, cut in a style that managed to be both modern and traditional, sohow suggesting centuries of history while fitting perfectly into the present mont.
She moved with the grace that ca from genuine power....not the deliberately predatory grace of younger beings trying to prove sothing, but the effortless certainty of soone who had long ago stopped needing to demonstrate their capability.
She was, Eve recognized imdiately, formidable.
Isadora’s eyes found Eve imdiately, and Eve felt the assessnt.....quick, thorough, comprehensive. Taking in her age, her bearing, her clothing, and definitely noticing the glowing mark visible above her collar.
Sothing shifted in Isadora’s expression.....surprise, quickly controlled, followed by what looked like genuine interest.
"Lady Evangeline," Isadora said, her voice carrying the particular resonance of soone speaking with formal authority. She inclined her head in a gesture that was respectful without being subservient. "Thank you for receiving on such short notice. I am Ambassador Isadora, sent by Lady Seraphine to extend the Traditional faction’s support and to formally acknowledge your claim to the Seraphim throne."
Eve inclined her own head in return....the sa degree of respect, neither more nor less. "Ambassador Isadora. Welco to the Blackwood estate. Please, sit."
She gestured to the seating area, and Isadora moved to take the chair opposite the sofa where Eve settled. Damian positioned himself standing near the window....present but not hovering, his alpha energy a steady reminder of whose territory this was. Raphael took a chair slightly to the side, his position making clear he was family rather than subordinate.
Eve noticed Isadora notice Raphael. Saw the mont of recognition...the subtle widening of eyes, the fractional pause before she composed herself.
"Lord Raphael," Isadora said, her tone shifting to acknowledge his presence. "The Court believed you dead. This is.....unexpected."
"The Court was ant to believe that," Raphael said calmly. "It was safer for everyone involved."
Isadora processed this with the efficiency of soone accustod to rapidly integrating new information into existing fraworks. Then she turned her full attention back to Eve.
"Lady Seraphine will be...." She paused, selecting words carefully. "....very interested to learn that you have such substantial family support. It strengthens your position considerably."
"I’m fortunate," Eve said, keeping her tone pleasant and noncommittal.
"Indeed." Isadora’s eyes moved to the mark at Eve’s collar....not staring, but clearly noting it. "And may I say, congratulations appear to be in order. That is a claiming mark, if I’m not mistaken. A completed bonding."
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