"My Lords," Jocelynn said, drawing herself up to her full height and walking out from behind the table she shared with the Lothian brothers to stand at the center of the U-shaped arrangement of tables.
In the flickering light of the chandeliers above and the warm glow of the hearths that ringed the great hall, her skin looked radiant and her soft blond hair shone like spun gold. She'd dressed conservatively for the evening, wearing a dress of pale, seafoam blue that looked faded and aged, as if it had been washed in the waters of the sea and left out to dry.
Combined with subtle silver jewelry, bereft of jewels or pearls, it gave her a more mature presence than her seventeen years and she combined that with every other bit of grace and poise her teachers had instilled in her when she stood before the assembled Lothian court.
