Anastasia Lang's POV
While memories from teachers and students shimmered across the night sky, I drifted toward the banquet tables.
So did Ria, Seris, and Pria.
I had just picked up another canapé when a familiar voice beside me made my hand jerk.
I nearly dropped it.
"So..." Tarven said.
"You chose Miloran over me?"
I turned toward him.
He looked... unfairly handsome.
His deep green suit, embroidered with gold, matched my own dress so well that, at first glance, anyone could have mistaken us for a pair.
I immediately shoved that thought aside.
Enough.
My heart had played enough games with my mind.
"What do you mean?" I asked lightly before popping the canapé into my mouth.
A mistake.
It was much larger than I'd expected.
I hurriedly covered my mouth as I struggled not to choke.
"You chose Miloran as your mentor?"
My eyes widened.
"What?"
I barely managed to swallow.
"Where did that come from?"
Without saying a word, Tarven picked up a glass of punch from the table beside us and handed it to me.
I gratefully took a long sip before answering.
"I danced with him."
"Yes."
"He asked."
I shrugged.
"Why would I say no?"
I tried to keep the conversation light.