Henry could no longer keep his composure.

How dare a country bumpkin lay a hand on the goddess of Grayvale?

To them, Rivenesco was nothing but a backwater village.

What kind of talent could possibly come from Rivenesco?

Nearly every young heir in the room wore the same expression of disdain mixed with indignation.

How had this bumpkin managed to win her favor?

The jealousy was palpable.

“Well, if Miss McCall has acknowledged you herself, then you must be quite extraordinary. Welcome to Grayvale’s gathering,” Henry said and kept up a pretense of politeness.

But as he turned his head, he shot a subtle glance at the two men behind him.

“You’re from Rivenesco? What kind of talent could possibly come from that place? Hey, kid, have you even reached the fifth grade yet?” one of them asked and sneered. “Just because Mr. Henry is being polite doesn’t mean the rest of us are. If you’re not qualified, you don’t belong here. Not even Allison’s backing will change that.”