Chapter 102 - The Reception [I]

She was nervous.

Yvonne twisted the rings on her fingers as she waited for her entrance into the Reception Room. Stace- her dearest maid- who was both blunt and informal in her manner of speaking, stood right besind her, adjusting the removable tulle sleeves on her shoulders.

"It was daft of us to add on sleeves when the dress was gorgeous as is," Stace muttered irritably as she struggled to straighten out a pointed wrinkle. "And why? Because you felt cold?"

Yvonne sighed. "If you were a human, you'd feel how chilly the weather has gotten lately."

Stace smirked. "Too bad I'm not human. I've never felt cold in my life!"

Yvonne chuckled. She knew Stace was just trying to calm her down before she was called in.Was it so obvious that she was practically trembling with nerves? Or was it just because of the cold.

Yes. Of course it's the cold, Yvonne thought. I'm not so weak. I've done more nerve-racking stuff that is incomparable to this lousy reception. L-Like the time I had to plan out the exchange between Zoie and the princess. Daft, it was, really.

The thought of poor Zoie just added to Yvonne's nerves. 

Even though she has been a small, timid thing, she had carried out her assigned mission with commendable vigor. Yvonne remembered watching from behind a door as she had walked in front of the escort of a guard through the stretched corridor. She didn't remember much clearly since there was a huge distance between them, but she remembered the guard reaching forward to touch Zoie's wig, most likely in an an attempt to check if it was genuine, but in that split second, Zoie had somehow managed a shocking roundhouse kick that left the guard floored. Literally. She might have kicked him in the groin because the guard went unconscious from the immense discomfort. 

The next morning, Yvonne had checked in at him. It was then she had realized that the man remembered nothing about the exchange last night. He was instantly told to pack up and go. 

Poor guy.

But not poorer than Zoie, who had disappeared without a trace. Without a single one. 

Yvonne sighed and put a steady hand on her heart to calm it down. 

"Stace," she said, her voice almost a whisper. "Why's it taking so long?"

Stace moved forward to fix her hair, which was just a piece of jeweled artwork. There was no doubt Yvonne would be the star of the reception today.

"Just wait a bit," Stace chastised. "From the looks of it, you're not too eager to go in anyways. So what's the hurry?"

Yvonne wrung her hands. "I just want to get this done with."

Stace sighed. She knew Yvonne was nervous, considering the fact that this would be the first time she'll be actually attending a notable event after her arrival at the palace. There would be talking, of course, and Yvonne knew that she'll have to leave a good impression on the people from the Lands of Sovia, or else she'll make herself out to be a social outcast. It was a big deal, and Stace understood. 

"Just calm down," Stace advised as she tapped Yvonne's shoulder. "Calm those muscles and mind your composure. And smile! Don't forget to smile. You'll be okay." Stace grinned and winked at her, and Yvonne was thankful for that alone. 

"Thanks," she whispered as she got ready to go in. The guards stationed by the door to the Reception Room were reaching towards the two large handles. "I think I'll manage just fine."

As the doors swung open on oiled hinges, Yvonne was blinded by the bright refractions of light. Then she heard a snippet of the Emperor's voice saying:

"...And here comes my last jewel, Lady Sumner of Clatoise..."

Once adjusted to the light, Yvonne stepped in with an even brighter smile stretched on her red lips. She knew she had to make a good first impression, or else she'll remain as just a decoration by the Emperor's side. 

Before she could even see who the guests were, Yvonne fell into a graceful curtsy. She could almost hear the stunned silence in the room. Quickly, she rose up to see whom she had to impress today. 

The Reception Room was huge. In the middle was a fairly large squared table with a glass top, around which were long, white velvet sofas. On the sofa right opposite the door sat Emperor Haleth, who (Yvonne thought) looked as full as ever. Full of ego, that is. Since he alone took most of the sofa, nobody bothered sitting beside him. 

One of the long sofas to his side was occupied by the royal mistresses, with the one being closest to the Emperor being Yesenia, who was the wisest. The other sofa was occupied by some faces Yvonne did not recognize. One of them, and the one who seemed to be the head of authority amongst them, was a tall, blonde man with a younger version of him seated by his side. Presumably, they were father and son. Judging by the crest on the tall man's chest, he was either a duke or a marquess. His son wore a similar badge.

Other than these two, there was a blonde woman with deep dimples who sat beside the younger man. They had the same, golden eyes, which could mean he was his mother. Lastly, there were a couple of guards stationed behind them, dressed in blue armor.

Yvonne went and seated herself on the sofa opposite the Emperor, since it was the only one unoccupied. What Yvonne had not known was that there was indeed someone seated beside her. He was a dark haired man with a grave, yet handsome, face. Yvonne avoided his curious gaze as she faced the Emperor, who smiled brightly upon her.

"How are you, my dear?" he asked in his bass-filled voice. 

Yvonne smiled her fatal smile as she sat, proper and poised. "Wonderful, Your Majesty. Since I'm the last one here, I hope it won't be any trouble to introduce me to these pleasant people."

The Emperor nodded, as he brushed his small beard. 

"This is Duke Lucan Van Huxley of the duchy in Notdale," he said, pointing towards the tall, blonde man who smirked at his mention. 

Yvonne decided to dislike him at once, because he seemed like a scheming fool with a huge ego.

"Next to him," the Emperor continued without pause as he pointed to the younger version of the duke, "is Marquess Parr Huxley, also of Notdale. They bear an uncanny resemblance, so you must already know that they are related."

Yvonne studied the Marquess through her perceptive gaze, who just smiled and looked away. Yvonne had mixed feelings about him. She thought he would be as prideful as his father, but he seemed rather timid and mousy at the same time, as if his father had strictly ordered him to not steal his spotlight.

Yvonne moved onto the next person in line.

"And this," the Emperor pointed a lazy hand towards the woman, "is the lovely duchess of Notdale, Duchess Eliza Huxley." 

Kindly, Yvonne nodded at her, and raised an eyebrow when the duchess didn't reciprocate her smile. Yvonne decided to dislike the whole couple. 

"Last but not the very least," the Emperor pointes to the dark haired man beside Yvonne, who sat with his arms sprawled on the sofa's backrest, "this smart man is Aspen Yelwynn, advisor to the duke." Yvonne didn't turn to look at him, but she knew nonetheless that his eyes were on her. 

"It's an honor to be in your presence," Yvonne smiled sweetly at the duke, who visibly tried to fight a blush. Yvonne knew the effect she had on others, and she was smart enough to use it to its best. 

The Emperor carried on with his conversation, oblivious to anything that was not about himself. Yvonne looked at all the other mistresses who sat quietly on the sofa, their lips pursed tight. Enya wasn't there.

The Emperor busied himself in a conversation with the duke's family, and Yvonne was forgotten. Or at least she thought.

"What was your name again?" the dark haired man muttered as he turned to her. His voice was smooth and catchy, and Yvonne didn't like it. He had a similar manner of speaking like all the previous boyfriends she had had before she was taken in by King Irvin, and they all had turned out to be douchebags. But there was an accent on his lips, something incredibly similar to what she was familiar with. Or was she just imagining it?

"You may address me as Lady Sumner," Yvonne said, turning to the man. There were no signs of a smile on her face, but when she saw Aspen Yelwynn's face up close, her lips twitched at the corners. Quickly she shook it off. 

Aspen nodded, in thought. "Might I say you look stunning tonight," he said crisply. "Much lovelier than the lot over there." He pointed his chin towards the other mistresses. Yvonne frowned. 

"Thank you," Yvonne replied stonily. "But I didn't ask." With that, she turned away from Aspen, who fought a chuckle behind her. 

"What an interesting creature," he murmured under his breath. Then he spoke up again. "Lady Sumner, you're from Clatoise, I hear?"

Yvonne sighed. 

"Yes," she said, turning back to the annoying man.

The man nodded thoughtfully as he stared at the ceiling.

"Wonderful kingdom?"

"Very," Yvonne replied sarcastically. What was the deal with this guy?

"I'm from Clatoise, too," he said as he looked at her, smiling. "Though it's been ages since I visited my hometown. I don't even know what became of it."

Yvonne frowned. "Where do you live?"

"In a small town called Huwen. You wouldn't know of it."

But Yvonne did know of it.. And she didn't like the sound of that.