"Do you intend to harm Lady Beatrice?" Cupcake asked.
Rosalinda flinched, recoiling as if dodging a stone. Her eyes flicked to me, then settled back on Cupcake.
The three of us were standing at the center of the dance floor with music serving as a background to our otherwise tense situation.
Lady Beatrice was chatting with her guest west of us, with Joséphine standing guard by her side.
Nestled among the round tables ahead, Evelyn and Lucy were preoccupied. Evelyn was drinking wine bottle after bottle, while Lucy insisted she consume even more.
I gave Rosalinda two blinks. She answered in kind. That small exchange shattered the cover; Cupcake's identity as security was out.
Why did I do that?
"Answer," Cupcake said.
Rosalinda avoided eye contact with Cupcake, sweat beading on her forehead.
"I mean—"
My lips formed the word 'No' as I motioned toward Rosalinda, not letting a single sound escape.
