Does it even matter?
Maximilian Croyso probably could not care less about his whereabouts or who he chose to fool around with. This concern was solely the product of his inflated ego. All the same, his feet continued to take him back to the banquet. He irritably swept back his hair. He hated how he was acting like an agitated stallion that had caught the scent of a mare in heat.
Just as he was about to step out of the dark corridor, a male voice murmured, "Do you think it's true? About the duke seeking a husband for his daughter among the knights."
Riftan peered into the hall toward the gossiping noblemen. A bard sang a heroic epic alongside his lute while banquet-goers danced beneath glimmering candlelight. The noblemen appeared to be taking advantage of all the activity to convene a secret discussion. Riftan's ears pricked at the sluggish, drunken voice that spoke next.
"Is she even of age?"