Beneath a glittering chandelier, Ragusa swirled the wine in his glass with a look of pure irritation on his face.

"Lord Ragusa, for the next dance, I would be honored if you would join my daughter—"

Without even a glance, he cuts off the fawning noble's voice. His red eyes are fixed solely on the entrance doors of the hall.

(...She's late. What the hell is she doing?)*