“Aurora?”“Logan?”He poked his head in and gawked. “He handcuffed you?”“Nah, it’s my latest fashion statement.”

“I shake my head. I don't want anything from Logan. Logan is dangerous. Handling a wholesome dairy product does not ease the effects of the malfeasance he's guilty of.”

“She poked him in the center of his chest with two fingers to punctuate her words. “You are an unfeeling”—poke —“traitorous”—poke—“mistrusting”—poke—“rude”—poke —“booby!” Every poke turned him mortal, but Lord Maccon didn’t seem to mind it in the least. Instead he grabbed the hand that poked him and brought it to his lips. “You put it very well, my love.”

“Breckin shrugs. “I’m new here. And if you haven’t deducted from my impeccable fashion sense, I think it’s safe to say that I’m…” he leans forward and cups his hand to his mouth in secrecy. “Mormon,” he whispers.”

“He winks at me.Then, before Calliope can cheer my statement, or tell him to go, he says, "Lily has no sense of fashion.""Hey," I cry. "You're supposed to say something nice.”

“My motto for fashion: If you can’t afford to make an elegant statement, make a ridiculous one.”