Chapter 471. After Dinner

Lucien

He wiped his lips and tossed the napkin down. Looking around, he saw the satisfied faces of his guests. As usual, he thought approvingly, his Woman had outdone herself. The flavored rice, with the taste of spices, had been subtle and delicious. The chicken she had prepared to go along with it, which was called Tandoori chicken, had been exquisite and O’Connor had been in raptures. But then, he was always like that, observed Lucien, his eyes moving over his old friend.

The man’s dramatic utterances and cheerful, almost benign little goblin looks, made him a guest who could hold the attention of the guests with ease , with his many stories.

Patrick O’Connor had been in his element, flooding his eager audiences with myths from his country. Tara had listened wide-eyed as he narrated the tale of the Banshee. Right now, he was onto the myth of the Children of the Lir.

His eyes kept roving to Proserpina, repeatedly, and he seemed to wait for