[Meredith].
Even after lunch, the house remained quiet. Draven and his father still hadn’t returned.
I checked the time again before finally pulling out my phone and sending Draven a message.
Me: "How’s the meeting going?"
Ten minutes passed before my phone vibrated.
Him: "Council dragged on. After that, we went straight to the palace."
I replied with a simple ’Okay’ and left it at that. Whatever they were dealing with, it clearly wasn’t ending anytime soon.
Then, my thoughts shifted to Dennis, so I scrolled through my contacts and dialled his number.
"I’m free this evening," I told him the moment he answered. "If the drive offer still stands."
His response was immediate and far too pleased. "Perfect. Meet me out front by four."
By 3:45 p.m., I was already changing.
I slipped into black palazzo pants and a finely printed shirt, the fabric light and comfortable against my skin. After combing my silver hair, I twisted it into a loose, messy bun at the back of my head.
For a brief moment, I considered calling Azul or Deidra to curl it properly—but the thought passed. This would do.
Next, I applied a light dusting of powder on my face, a swipe of pink tint across my lips, and flower-shaped gold earrings, delicate yet noticeable, on my ears.
Then, I strapped on a simple black wristwatch and put on a pair of flat black sandals.
Finally, I sprayed some perfume before I grabbed my shoulder bag and left the dressing room.
Outside, Dennis was already waiting. He leaned casually against a black G-Wagon, sunglasses on, posture relaxed in that infuriatingly effortless way of his.
The moment he spotted me descending the stairs, his lips curved into a grin. And before I could say anything, he lifted his phone.
"Oh no—don’t you dare," I warned, but of course, he didn’t listen.
He was already snapping photos. "My brother needs to see how beautiful his mate looks."
I couldn’t help laughing. "Put that away."
"Only if you approve first," he said, stepping closer and showing me his screen.
I glanced at the photos. "They are fine. The angles are great," I admitted.
He beamed like he had just won something. "You really should go out more."
"Why?" I asked.
"So you stop wearing dresses around the house all the time," he said seriously, "and start wearing trousers more. That’s where your style actually shines."
I laughed again. "You are ridiculous."
"I’m serious," he insisted.
Then, without warning, he dropped the car keys into my palm. I stared at them. Then at him. "What is this?"
"You’re driving."
"I haven’t touched a car in months."
"And that," he said cheerfully, "is exactly why you are driving today."
Before I could argue further, he opened the driver’s door and held it open for me. I shook my head, resigned, and climbed in.

’He doesn’t know,’ I thought.
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