01-16-2025, 12:32 PM
The announcement concluded and the room returned to fluidity. Lore watched Jessika a moment longer, a little in awe of how easily she conducted herself, though when she coyly turned her back on the first of many would-be suitors Lore’s gaze blinked quickly away. She felt deeply embarrassed for him.
If she could help it she was quite content to skirt the fringes and avoid the fiercest political eddies. Unless anyone here memorised the names and faces of Forbes it was unlikely they’d have any idea who she was, and she expected she’d have time before anyone pieced together her being Damien’s “sister” and tried to ingratiate. If she had any luck on her side at all tonight then there was already enough fresh intrigue to let her slip entirely free, especially with the waves she saw Jessika’s introduction creating. It was almost fascinating. The room was either drawn to her or watched her avidly, and those who were not were presently clustering to Scion Marveet instead.
Lore wandered amongst them, watching the reactions curiously. No one really noticed her. It was awkward in a way that should have been a little excruciating except it was the kind of embarrassment she was largely impervious to. She knew most of these people very well on paper, though there were a few faces she knew did not appear on what she had discovered of the expected guestlist. Lore was good at digging, and she had an impeccable memory, two things that often made her the most prepared person in the room.
Amongst her ready stores of who’s-who and what to say to them was the far more important list of who to avoid. Lore had no intention of entering Sofia Vasilieva’s fashionable orbit, not even when she recognised Colette Moreau in her company. Lore had interned in New York though they never met in person, and she had loved her time there enough that in other circumstances she would have enjoyed introducing herself. But women could be cruel, and Lore wasn’t willing to play a game which would make a victim of her. Especially not after one look at Sofia’s expression.
A server paused with a tray, and Lore gratefully took a drink from it. The woman’s dark eyes appraised her with momentary interest before she moved on. Lore took a sip of the bubbles and didn’t linger.
Eventually she came to stand by a man leaning on a pillar. The fierceness of his expression did not look even a little bit friendly, and he was a Volthström, which meant he was one of the ones who absolutely shouldn’t have been here. Of course it wasn’t Lore’s party and she didn’t actually care about that part. He was handsome, and she fully expected he would not notice her standing there. It was the pillar she was interested in – it was a great place to linger and watch the ballroom, and in the shadow of his intense focus it was very unlikely anyone would bother her either.
If she could help it she was quite content to skirt the fringes and avoid the fiercest political eddies. Unless anyone here memorised the names and faces of Forbes it was unlikely they’d have any idea who she was, and she expected she’d have time before anyone pieced together her being Damien’s “sister” and tried to ingratiate. If she had any luck on her side at all tonight then there was already enough fresh intrigue to let her slip entirely free, especially with the waves she saw Jessika’s introduction creating. It was almost fascinating. The room was either drawn to her or watched her avidly, and those who were not were presently clustering to Scion Marveet instead.
Lore wandered amongst them, watching the reactions curiously. No one really noticed her. It was awkward in a way that should have been a little excruciating except it was the kind of embarrassment she was largely impervious to. She knew most of these people very well on paper, though there were a few faces she knew did not appear on what she had discovered of the expected guestlist. Lore was good at digging, and she had an impeccable memory, two things that often made her the most prepared person in the room.
Amongst her ready stores of who’s-who and what to say to them was the far more important list of who to avoid. Lore had no intention of entering Sofia Vasilieva’s fashionable orbit, not even when she recognised Colette Moreau in her company. Lore had interned in New York though they never met in person, and she had loved her time there enough that in other circumstances she would have enjoyed introducing herself. But women could be cruel, and Lore wasn’t willing to play a game which would make a victim of her. Especially not after one look at Sofia’s expression.
A server paused with a tray, and Lore gratefully took a drink from it. The woman’s dark eyes appraised her with momentary interest before she moved on. Lore took a sip of the bubbles and didn’t linger.
Eventually she came to stand by a man leaning on a pillar. The fierceness of his expression did not look even a little bit friendly, and he was a Volthström, which meant he was one of the ones who absolutely shouldn’t have been here. Of course it wasn’t Lore’s party and she didn’t actually care about that part. He was handsome, and she fully expected he would not notice her standing there. It was the pillar she was interested in – it was a great place to linger and watch the ballroom, and in the shadow of his intense focus it was very unlikely anyone would bother her either.