Just as the tension in her chest tightened, Annie’s eyes landed on another figure entering the hall.
Lois Boyle. The eldest daughter of the Boyle family, and someone Annie had never seen eye to eye with.
Lois entered with her signature warm smile, exuding an air of confidence. Without missing a beat, she spotted Ryanna and made a beeline for her, a look of familiarity already in place.
Annie couldn’t stay still any longer. With a smooth, calculated movement, she rose from her seat and crossed the room. A polite smile danced on her lips, hiding the sharp thoughts swirling in her mind. “Ryanna, there you are. I didn’t expect to find you here.”
Without missing a beat, she slid effortlessly between Lois and Ryanna, blocking Lois’s path with practiced ease.
Lois, from a minor noble family, immediately noticed the move. Her gaze flicked between them, but she dared not protest, edging sideways. Katelyn, standing nearby, took in the scene with quiet amusement. Tonight, it seemed, was full of opportunities for her for those who knew how to navigate these petty rivalries.
Ryanna offered Annie a polite nod before turning to Katelyn with an entirely different warmth. “Miss Bailey, I hope you find tonight as enjoyable as I do.”
Annie’s jaw clenched, but she forced a smile, her composure barely intact. Her fingers tightened around her champagne flute, though her face remained serene. With a deliberate sip, she calmed herself, pushing the rising frustration back down where it couldn’t be seen.
Katelyn returned her smile with ease. “I’m sure I will, Princess Ryanna. You go on ahead.”
This was, after all, the kind of event where social intercourse mattered most. Everyone understood the game, the unspoken rules that governed these gatherings.
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Ryanna didn’t respond with more than a faint, polite smile and a simple nod. “Okay,” she murmured before moving on.
As a princess, Ryanna was no stranger to admiration, and soon enough, a small cluster of admirers had gathered around her.
Katelyn then settled into her seat with graceful ease, holding her glass. She stole a glance at Annie, whose barely contained irritation was almost too entertaining to ignore.
Vincent, sensing the moment, leaned in and murmured, “We should greet the King first.”
It was, after all, the proper thing to do.
Katelyn nodded, not one to argue over matters of etiquette.
Together, they made their way toward the King’s seat.
In a quiet corner of the hall, away from the crowd’s watchful gaze, Lois, who had appeared meek just moments ago, now wore a sharp, calculating glint in her eyes.
She casually approached the drinks table, her movements smooth as she discreetly slid a small amount of white powder from beneath her fingernail into a glass of pale green cocktail. With a practiced sweetness in her smile, she picked up the drink and made her way toward Annie.
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