Chapter 50: Anastasia

Three flatbed trucks park on the gravel of the western terrace at 7:00 AM. Emmet steps down from the driver's side of the lead vehicle, his boots hitting the stone. He looks at the grand ballroom's glass doors, measuring the structural clearance with a sweepglance.

I walk out onto the terrace, my heels clicking sharply against the stone. "Arthur told me the guest list doubled overnight. The original ballroom layout can’t hold the tables."

"I know," Emmet says, walking toward me. He stops two feet away, his frame blocking the morning sun. "Arthur called me at midnight. He was trying to figure out how to tent the...