Young men sneered behind polished masks of etiquette. Their mothers stared in disbelief. Their fathers frowned, calculating.
How had this stranger with no name managed to get an invitation—no, the favor—of the famously aloof princess? The very same girl who had rejected every dance request with one bad excuse after the other? Who declined all outings, ignored all court letters, and once refused to even speak to the son of a marquis because he "smelled like boiled goose."
Now she was bringing a masked stranger and his stunning, exotic harem to her father's birthday celebration as if they were old friends?
Jealousy flared.
That's when some guests began to notice… the collars.
Gasps turned to scowls.
"Is that…? Are they slaves?"
"They're wearing slave collars. That's certainly not a fashion trend."
"What is the princess thinking?!"
"To bring them here… how tasteless! I feel the urge to vomit."
The air bristled with judgment and badly veiled outrage.
