Imogen blushed, what had she walked in to? And more importantly, did she let curiosity get the better of her or sneak out now, before it was too late? Constance was sat with her back to Imogen, she could easily make a dart for the door, yet she didn't move a muscle. Sipping her wine she watched the man smile as he spoke to Constance, his eyes moving up and down her body, like a lion sizing up its prey. It made Imogen sick to her stomach. She'd always had a soft spot for the witch and, despite their constant arguments, she couldn't help but think that deep down they cared for each other. There also remained the fact that, on top of this, Imogen considered Constance to be the most beautiful woman she'd ever laid eyes on. Though she knew there was a high risk she'd be turned into a tadpole should she ever dare to say it out loud.
She could feel the jealousy building inside of her. What was so special about this man that he was entitled to her time, to her conversation, to be able to look at her like…like that. Imogen would kill, just for a third of what he had right now. She wished she could see Constance's face, to see if she was reciprocating his advances. Was she smiling? Constance had the most beautiful smile, and hardly anyone got to see it.
Imogen decided she didn't want to know, her heart heavy she downed the rest of her glass in one swift motion and headed for the door.
As she stepped into the night the cold air hit her, and so did the wine. Feeling saddened and slightly lightheaded she began her accent through the trees back towards the castle.