It wasn't that Sam wasn't used to hanging around nobility. There were dozens of Ventrue--her own clan--who loved to bore anyone who would listen with the long and complicated history of their blue bloodlines. No. It was the fact that Natalia was kind of the opposite of all that that seemed to throw her the most. She'd never met someone with royal blood who didn't let her know it in the first five minutes of conversation.

Just like people who went to fucking Harvard. They always managed to work that into a conversation, even if it was about the weather or fashion trends in the late 1700s.

"Huh," she said, folding her arms. "Should I be bowing or having honor or something like that?" she asked. Genuine question. Not that she was really prepared to do much bowing.