"You are, after all, Armand's inamorata of the moment." I gave up on the titles. "I'm his what?" "Inamorata. It means " "I know what it means." She took in my face and slanted a smile. "Dear me. Have I offended you?" "Only by your ignorance. I'm not his lover. I'm not-anyone's anything." "But you could be, if you wished it. If you looked at him the way he looks at you.." "You're imagining things." "I'm not. Everyone's noticed." "What does it matter to you?" I flashed. Sophia's smile faded; she gazed at me thoughtfully. "It matters to Chloe. Isn't that enough?" I glanced around the room. Lillian and Stella were watching us from a table by a window, worry etched along their mouths. Mittie and Caroline stood taut nearby. What was their queen bee doing talking to the worker drone? I smiled back at Sophia, pleased to etch their worry a shade deeper. "You're right. It's enough." "I like you, Eleanore," she said, straightening. "Believe me, I'm just as astonished by that as you are." She took a couple of steps toward the others, then paused, sending me a pale-blue look from over her shoulder. "But my head is tiny."