Cassandra knows how to play the part. She is the picture perfect image of poise and nobility, clad in the fancy silk dress in a shade of blue that makes the blue of her eyes more brilliant that had been given to her upon her arrival. Only those that know her would stand a chance of picking up on how… utterly devastated and deeply furious she is.

The moment she’d heard of the vampire’s arrival, with his bag of feathers, she knew what the outcome would be. It would be too easy to rig the Finding, to make certain she was the one forced to go. Forced to become a vampire. Two birds. One stone. And now she’s out of their hair. Far away and unable to make trouble.

It’s only when she sees him, sees the brother she hasn’t seen in… gods, seven years? At least? Sees him, standing there… with the vampires. Among those waiting to choose. Waiting to sponsor some poor fool who might not want any part of this. And then he claims her. For the Silver Court. It’s only then that the façade breaks, for the briefest of moments, shock, and horror, and grief, shattering the veneer of calm and poise as they’re writ plainly on her face, in her eyes, her body language. Only a moment, before she gets herself under control; she knows how to play this game. And she refuses to give them the satisfaction.

But there’s no hiding the emotion in her voice when she says his name. “Percy?”