That was the only positive thing Zechariah could say about her, but oh, did the acknowledgment have to fight to force its way out his mouth. She would look good on his arm, and less people would fret about his victimless crimes for it.

“The most beautiful woman I know,” he gritted out.

His hand brushed the neck of the wine before he grimaced and clutched his hands under the table.

“The scandal part,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “is why this is a conversation.”

This part he had thought out, and well, but he fidgeted with his cuff link still.

“She – Ms. Carrington, that is – was married. I had not been aware of that.”

Something he would not have as quickly 'admitted' had he realized just how hard Uriel was struggling to believe it his.

He had been peacefully, near-completely oblivious to her existence before said blackmail, and he would have fancied staying that way. If he could weave that into a tale that echoed real betrayals, well, all the better. The line between a lie and a misleading truth was a fine one, and Zechariah fancied himself a fine man.