The moon was almost completely hidden when Arianna walked outside, the cloud cover blotting what few stars remained. Rain lingered on the air, carrying the promise of a brewing storm. The wind scattered the hair around her face and sent the long tails of Caleb’s coat flapping back from his legs.
“I don’t like the weather,” he muttered to Wyn. He offered Arianna his hand and guided her down the steps. She smiled, unable to remember when a man had last shown her such elegant courtesy.