She almost backed out of the doorway when she realized she had been the first member of the household to arrive. But Boris had turned his head, wagging his tail, and their guest had stood, and there was nothing for it now but to enter the room, drop a tidy curtsy, and murmur, "Good afternoon."
It was not a good afternoon. She had spent the morning being lectured by Lady Demiel on the follies of youth and the absurdity of thinking she was in love (But I am not! seemed not to be the correct argument; she had tried it multiple times to no avail). She had hoped this was some madness that had seized her guardian alone, but then as she sat in her room, the network had erupted with questions about it, so it seemed everyone knew.
Oh, she should never have allowed Gale Kapur to push her into dancing with her brother.
She had agonized about whether to contact Storm directly but could not bring herself to dredge up her distress and embarrassment. And now, here was Gale's newly minted fiance, here for tea, and she could only imagine what he would say to her.
She settled at the edge of an armchair, as far as she could be from him while remaining in the same room. She smoothed her skirt over her lap just as Boris padded over and placed his giant head there. Absently, she scratched his ears, glad for something to focus on that was not the guest. "I hope you are well?" she finally managed, for the sake of politeness.