One by one, Lyndon presented the women to Rosalynn, all distinguished figures from Skrix society.
She greeted each with a courteous nod and a practiced smile.
However, upon meeting the last womanâs gaze, her smile faded slightly.
It was Ivy Larson.
The memory of their last uncomfortable encounter lingered in Rosalynnâs mind.
Caught off guard by Rosalynnâs status as a Moreno, Ivyâs face bore a tinge of awkwardness.
âMiss Moreno,â she greeted.
âYou can refer to me as Rosalynn,â she stated without emotion.
A chill swept over Ivyâs features.
Under her composed exterior, irritation simmered.
Rosalynnâs disregard for her goodwill hadnât gone unnoticed.
Had Rosalynn not been a Moreno, would she have bothered conversing with her? Hell no!
The unexpected sight of Tilda, perched upon a chair, altered Ivyâs expression subtly.
Her presence was puzzling.
Had Tilda been enjoying the company of these people until now?
âLyndon, allow me to acquaint you with some friends,â Rosalynn offered, presenting Hutton and Karina.
Upon mentioning Tilda, Lyndonâs gaze hardened momentarily.
âMiss Larson?â
Adjusting her glasses with a strained smile, Tilda excused herself, âPardon me, Rosalynn, Karina.
I have to go to the restroom.
â
Her departure was hasty, her foot colliding with a nearby table.
She teetered, nearly tumbling over.
âBe careful!â
Lyndonâs reflexes were swift, steadying her arm.
Tilda recoiled from his touch as though burnt.
âDonât touch me!â
Her complexion paled significantly.