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“McElroy?” The girl with hazel eyes queried. “Is that who His Majesty is?” She glanced towards the tall girl questioningly.

“His Majesty?” Amber’s lips curled up into a smile. “I haven’t really heard McElroy called that before, but he’s certainly rich enough to have–.”

Amber stopped and furrowed her brow. Wait a minute. How could this girl not know who–but maybe someone else brought her. The invitation did say you could bring a guest. That must be it. Amber’s smile returned as quickly as it had left, though now it was masking a very faint queasy feeling at the bottom of her stomach.

“I’m Amber Povanovich, but you can just call me Amber.” She extended her right hand toward the girl.