Jasper studied her for a moment. After a moment, he spoke softly, his tone careful. "What's it like with him?"
She blinked, glancing over at him. "What's what like?"
"With your brother," he clarified, tilting his head slightly toward the ballroom where her brother stood. "From what I've seen, you two are... very different."
Seraphina hesitated, her gaze dropping to the marble floor below. "Different doesn't even begin to describe it," she said in a bit quiet voice now, almost drowned out by the orchestra's crescendos. "Ever since we were kids, he's always been the perfect one. The golden child. The one everyone looks up to."
"And you?" Jasper asked evenly.
A wry smile touched her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "And I'm the one they tolerate. The one they tell stories about in hushed whispers. Too wild, too unpredictable, too... much."
Jasper frowned, his jaw tightening as he leaned back against the alcove's stone wall. "That's not fair."
