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... ere still hanging in the air like confetti. Hermes blinked twice, thinking he must have misheard.
"...Excuse me?"
Paragon’s golden smile didn’t falter. "May I dance with you? That’s what I said, my Lord."
Hermes stared at him from behind his zanni mask. "...What are you, from the 1600s? I’m not a lord."
Paragon chuckled, deep and rich, like he found the confusion itself entertaining. "Relax. That’s just how I am with people I respect."
Hermes’ lips curled ...
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