Chapter 145: Sunday afternoon tea II

Chapter 145: Chapter 145: Sunday afternoon tea II

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One of the Student Union volunteers noticed the four girls approaching and greeted them with a warm smile.

"Good afternoon, ladies."

"Welcome to the Student Union’s Sunday Afternoon Tea."

Claire returned the smile.

"Good afternoon."

"We’re here to register."

"Wonderful."

The volunteer gestured toward the registration table.

"If you’ll step this way..."

"We’ll begin with registration first."

"Once everyone has received their table assignment, we’ll gather all participants together and explain this afternoon’s format before the event begins."

The four girls stepped forward one by one.

A second volunteer opened the registration ledger.

"Your name and college, please."

Claire gave hers first, followed by Eleanor, Amelia and finally Vivienne.

Each name was carefully entered into the attendance register before the volunteer handed them a neatly written name badge and invited them to draw a numbered ivory token from a polished wooden box.

Claire unfolded hers first.

"Table Seven."

Eleanor smiled.

"Twenty-one."

Amelia grinned.

"Twelve."

Finally...

Vivienne turned over the token resting in her palm.

"Twenty-three."

The volunteer smiled.

"Please keep both your badge and table number with you."

"We’ll begin the briefing shortly."

The four girls thanked her before stepping aside.

Vivienne pinned the name badge neatly to the front of her dress before slipping the smooth ivory token into her handbag.

Around them, more students continued arriving, forming a steady line before the registration tables.

The hall grew livelier with each passing minute.

--

Several minutes later...

Three young men stepped through the entrance of the Student Union Hall.

Julian let out a low whistle as he surveyed the decorated hall.

"I have to admit..."

"This is considerably grander than last year."

Adrian adjusted his glasses, his eyes sweeping over the crowded hall.

"The Student Union clearly invested a great deal into today’s event."

Damian merely glanced around before following the line toward the registration tables.

By the time they reached the registration desk, another volunteer greeted them with a practiced smile.

"Good afternoon, gentlemen."

"Welcome to the Sunday Afternoon Tea."

"We’re here to register," Julian replied.

"Certainly."

The volunteer opened the large registration ledger.

"Your name and college, please."

"Julian Spencer."

"College of Political Governance."

The volunteer neatly entered his name before handing him a blank name badge.

"And your table token."

Julian reached into the polished wooden box.

He unfolded the small ivory token.

"Nine."

"Thank you."

The volunteer turned to Adrian.

"Adrian Carlisle."

"College of Political Governance."

Another line was added to the register.

Adrian accepted his badge before drawing his own token.

"Fourteen"

Finally...

She looked up.

Her eyes met Damian’s.

Recognition came almost immediately.

"...Lord Blackwood."

Her smile brightened ever so slightly.

"Good afternoon."

"Good afternoon."

She returned the greeting before glancing briefly toward the students waiting behind him, as though expecting the next person in line to step forward.

Instead...

Damian remained where he was.

"I’d like to register."

For a heartbeat...

She simply looked at him.

"...You’re participating?"

The surprise slipped out before she could stop herself.

Her eyes widened.

Then, as though only just realizing what she had said, a flush quickly spread across her cheeks.

"Oh!"

"I’m terribly sorry."

"I didn’t mean to presume."

Damian offered the same easy smile he seemed to reserve for everyone.

"No offense taken."

The volunteer let out the breath she had been unconsciously holding before hurriedly reopening the registration ledger.

"R-Right."

"May I have your name for the register?"

"Damian Blackwood."

Although she had clearly known who he was from the moment he approached...

Protocol was still protocol.

She carefully wrote his name into the ledger before handing him a blank name badge.

"And..."

She gestured toward the polished wooden box.

"Please draw your table number."

Damian reached inside.

His fingers closed around a single ivory token.

He unfolded it.

Twenty-seven.

The volunteer smiled, still looking slightly flustered.

"Thank you, Lord Blackwood."

"I hope you enjoy the afternoon."

Damian inclined his head politely.

"So do I."

--

A gentle chime echoed through the hall.

The lively conversations gradually softened as the students turned toward the small platform at the front of the room.

A member of the Student Union stepped behind the lectern, smiling warmly as he surveyed the crowd.

"Good afternoon, everyone."

"And welcome to today’s Sunday Afternoon Tea."

A ripple of applause spread through the hall.

"We’re delighted to see so many familiar—and unfamiliar—faces this afternoon."

He glanced briefly toward the registration desk before continuing.

"This afternoon, we’re delighted to welcome two hundred and forty-five students representing every college at Saint Albion University."

Another murmur of pleasant surprise swept through the room.

"Needless to say..."

He smiled.

"Even with an entire afternoon together..."

"I’m afraid you won’t have enough time to meet everyone."

A few students laughed.

"So rather than leaving everything to chance..."

He gestured toward the ivory tokens still resting in everyone’s hands.

"...we’ve decided to let chance lend us a helping hand."

More laughter followed.

"Each of you has already drawn your starting table."

"For the first round, those numbers will determine where your afternoon begins."

He paused for a moment before adding with a smile,

"Whether that table introduces you to a lifelong friend..."

"...a future business partner..."

"...or perhaps someone a little more special..."

He spread his hands lightly.

"I’m afraid..."

"...that part belongs entirely to fate."

The hall erupted into soft laughter and scattered applause.

Even Amelia couldn’t resist leaning toward Claire.

"I like this president already."

Claire smiled.

"He’s done this before."

The speaker waited for the room to quiet again.

"Now, a few brief instructions."

"The ladies will remain at their assigned tables throughout the structured portion of the afternoon."

"The gentlemen will rotate between tables whenever the bell rings."

"Each conversation round will last approximately fifteen minutes."

"By the end of the structured session, every participant will have met students from several different colleges."

"After the final rotation..."

"The remainder of the afternoon will be open for everyone to mingle freely."

He smiled once more.

"We do have one small announcement."

"This afternoon’s registrations closed with a slight imbalance."

"One hundred and sixteen ladies and one hundred and twenty-nine gentlemen have joined us."

"As a result, several tables will begin with one additional gentleman."

"We appreciate your understanding."

No one seemed particularly bothered.

If anything...

Several young men laughed quietly among themselves.

The Student Union representative closed the folder in front of him.

"Very well."

"Ladies..."

"If you’ll kindly proceed to your assigned tables first."

"Gentlemen..."

"Please remain where you are until all ladies have been seated."

Immediately, the hall came alive once more.

The young ladies began making their way toward the numbered tables scattered throughout the room.

The crowd slowly parted.

Students stepped aside to let others pass.

The once-crowded center of the hall gradually opened.

Damian waited quietly, his token resting loosely between his fingers.

He wasn’t really paying attention anymore.

His thoughts had drifted back...

Unbidden...

To a warm country inn.

A slice of strawberry shortcake.

A dream he would much rather forget.

The crowd continued to thin.

Someone stepped aside.

Then another.

...

His gaze lifted almost absently.

And stopped.

For one impossible heartbeat...

He genuinely wondered whether he was still dreaming.

Standing several tables away...

Adjusting the chair before taking her seat...

Was Vivienne.

The afternoon sunlight caught the loose waves of her hair as she turned, laughing softly at something one of the other young ladies had said.

She looked effortlessly radiant in her ivory dress.

Beautiful enough that his treacherous subconscious immediately drew the same impossible comparison it had only an hour earlier.

...

Impossible.

He looked away.

A passing student crossed his line of sight.

Someone laughed nearby.

The string quartet continued playing.

Slowly...

He looked back.

She was still there.

Still smiling.

Still entirely real.

Not a dream.

Not a hallucination.

His heartbeat slowed into one heavy, disbelieving thud.

...

His gaze drifted downward.

Pinned neatly against the bodice of her dress...

Was a participant’s name badge.

Beside her chair rested a small ivory token.

Not a guest.

Not accompanying someone.

A participant.

His heartbeat gave one slow, heavy thud.

...

What...

...was Anthony’s fiancée doing at Saint Albion University’s Sunday Afternoon Tea?