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“You don’t know what you are talking about, Richard,” she snaps back.

Nathaniel turns to me.

“You do not have to go anyway, if you do not wish to.”

“Oh no, please Evander, come,” Richard exclaims, spreading his arms enthusiastically. “It will be fun.”

“You are not forced,” Isobel adds, her fingers clutching the hem of her skirt.

For an instant, the sound of Dorian’s kiss on her hand bounces in my ears.

I feel my fingers prickle.

Like hell.

“It will be... a pleasure to see the works everyone praises so much.”

She looks slightly disappointed, her eyes lowering just a fraction.

“He is a great artist,” she mumbles.

Richard stands up with a quick movement.

“I’m going to get my invitation so we can read the details.”

“No, brother,” Isobel protests, “only... one invitation arrived.”

“What?”

“He did not even bother to send two,” Nathaniel mutters.

Richard takes a step toward his sister.

“Isobel, let me see that envelope.”

She draws back a step, clutching the envelope to her chest.

“No.”

He advances again, more determined.

“It was for you, alright? I opened it because I saw Lord Dorian’s name—”

His face freezes.

“You opened my correspondence without my permission?”

She flees, her dress brushing against her feet.

“Isobel!” Richard yells, running after her.

The doors close behind them, the sound of their quick footsteps echoing. In the room, only Nathaniel and I remain.

“I cannot deal with those two.”

“You cannot always concern yourself with everyone, Nathaniel.”

He stands with a slow step and moves toward a shelf, picks up several objects, and approaches me.