What was going on was the delivery of an envelope, which Eve had to sign for. As she turned it over, Claire made out the name, neatly written in an antiquely beautiful hand: Mr. Shane Collins. There was even a decorative little flourish underneath his name. The envelope was heavy cream-colored paper. On the back flap there was a gold seal with some kind of shield on it.
Eve lifted it to her nose, sniffed, and raised her eyebrows. Wow, she said. Expensive perfume.
She waved it in Claires direction, and she caught a hint of the dark, musky fragrancefull of promise and danger.
Shane padded downstairs, barefoot and wearing only his jeans except for the towel draped around his neck. He slowed as they both turned toward him. What?
Eve held up the envelope. Mr. Shane Collins.
He took it from her fingers, frowned at it, and then ripped open the back flap. Inside was a folded card of the same expensive cream paper, with raised black printing. Shane looked at it for a long second, then put it back in the envelope and handed it back to Eve. Burn it, he said.
And then he went upstairs.
Eve lost no time digging the card out, and since she did, Claire didnt feel too guilty about reading over her shoulder.
You have been summoned to attend a masked ball and feast to celebrate the arrival of Elder Bishop, on Saturday the twentieth of October, at the Elders Council Hall at the hour of midnight.
You will attend at the invitation of the lady Ysandre, and are required to accompany her at her pleasure.
Whos Ysandre? Eve asked.
lder.
You have been summoned to attend a masked ball and feast to celebrate the arrival of Elder Bishop, on Saturday the twentieth of October, at the Elders Council Hall at the hour of midnight.
You will attend at the invitation of the lady Ysandre, and are required to accompany her at her pleasure.
Whos Ysandre? Eve asked.
" style="white-space:pre"> You have been summoned to attend a masked ball and feast to celebrate the arrival of Elder Bishop, on Saturday the twentieth of October, at the Elders Council Hall at the hour of midnight.
You will attend at the invitation of the lady Ysandre, and are required to accompany her at her pleasure.
Whos Ysandre? Eve asked.
Claire was too busy worrying about the phrase at her pleasure.