Chapter 146: Sunday afternoon tea III

Chapter 146: Chapter 146: Sunday afternoon tea III

"Ladies..."

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

The gentle announcement was followed by the soft scrape of chairs and the quiet murmur of conversation as young women throughout the hall began making their way toward their assigned tables.

Vivienne glanced down at the ivory token still resting in her hand.

Twenty-three.

"Looks like this is where we split up."

Claire smiled as she held up her own token.

"Seven."

Amelia grinned.

"Twelve."

Eleanor turned hers over.

"Twenty-one."

"So..."

Amelia clasped her hands dramatically.

"May fate be kind to all of us."

Claire laughed.

"You’ve been taking this surprisingly seriously."

"I always take free tea seriously."

"That’s not what I meant."

"It should be."

Even Eleanor smiled.

Vivienne laughed quietly.

"I suppose we’ll compare stories afterward."

"Definitely," Amelia said immediately.

"I want a complete report."

"Every awkward conversation."

"Every charming gentleman."

"And every tragic attempt at flirting."

Claire shook her head in amusement.

"You’re assuming there will be tragic attempts."

"There are over two hundred students here."

Amelia spread her hands.

"Statistically..."

"There have to be."

The four girls laughed together.

Then, almost naturally, they drifted apart, each following the small numbered signs standing beside the rows of elegantly arranged tables.

Vivienne made her way toward the far side of the hall.

Large windows overlooked the university gardens, allowing warm afternoon sunlight to pour across the polished wooden floor.

She soon spotted it.

Table Twenty-Three.

Three young ladies were already approaching from different directions.

For a brief moment, all four arrived almost simultaneously.

They exchanged polite smiles before instinctively slowing, allowing one another to reach the table together.

Only then did Vivienne take a proper look at the seating arrangement.

It wasn’t what she had expected.

Rather than grouping the ladies together...

The chairs alternated neatly around the circular table.

Lady.

Gentleman.

Lady.

Gentleman.

Lady.

Gentleman.

Lady.

Gentleman.

The four chairs reserved for the gentlemen remained empty.

Waiting.

"So that’s how they’re doing it," one of the young ladies observed with an amused smile.

"It certainly discourages people from hiding beside their friends," another replied.

Vivienne couldn’t help smiling.

"It seems the Student Union has thought this through."

The four ladies quietly took their seats.

For a brief moment...

No one spoke.

Not out of awkwardness.

Simply because they were all taking the opportunity to observe one another.

Vivienne’s attention was immediately drawn to the young woman seated opposite her.

She couldn’t have been much older than nineteen.

Honey-blonde hair fell in soft curls over a cream-colored dress whose elegant tailoring spoke quietly of exceptional craftsmanship.

For a fleeting instant...

Vivienne almost felt as though she were looking into a mirror from another country.

Not because they resembled one another exactly.

They didn’t.

Vivienne’s features were softer.

Rebecca’s carried a sharper, more regal elegance.

Yet...

The combination of blonde hair and pale dresses made them impossible not to compare.

Apparently...

The other young lady had arrived at exactly the same conclusion.

Their eyes met.

She smiled first.

"I’m Princess Rebecca von Asteria."

"I’m a first-year student."

Vivienne returned the smile.

Straight to the title.

She’s proud of it.

Well...

She was nineteen.

And a princess.

Vivienne supposed that was perfectly understandable.

"I’m Vivienne Beaumont."

"I’m also a first-year student."

She glanced toward the other two young ladies with an inviting smile.

"And you?"

The girl seated beside Rebecca smiled warmly.

"Janella Jones."

"Second-year Communications."

"It’s lovely to meet everyone."

The remaining young lady nodded politely.

"Mary Johnson."

"Third-year Biology."

"I’m looking forward to this."

"The pleasure is mine," Vivienne replied.

Rebecca continued studying Vivienne for another quiet moment.

Vivienne Beaumont...

So this was the famous Lady Beaumont.

She had seen her before.

Across the ballroom during the Founders’ Ball.

Passing through campus between lectures.

Always from a distance.

This...

Was the first time they had actually spoken.

The rumors, at least, hadn’t been exaggerated.

She really was beautiful.

No wonder people keep comparing us.

Ever since Rebecca had arrived at Saint Albion, there always seemed to be another name mentioned whenever conversations turned to the university’s most admired young ladies.

"Lady Beaumont is stunning."

"Have you seen Anthony Ashford’s fiancée?"

"The Duke of Beaumont’s daughter is even prettier in person."

Rebecca had smiled politely through those conversations every time.

She was a princess.

She had spent her entire life being the young lady everyone noticed first.

Yet somehow...

At Saint Albion...

The spotlight always seemed to be shared with Vivienne Beaumont.

Her gaze lingered on Vivienne for another heartbeat.

Then a different thought quietly surfaced.

...But why is she here?

This wasn’t a charity gala.

Nor a student forum.

It was the Sunday Afternoon Tea.

Everyone at Saint Albion knew its unofficial purpose.

Meeting new people.

Making connections.

Sometimes...

Finding romance.

Rebecca’s brows almost knitted together.

Isn’t she engaged to Anthony Ashford?

The thought made no sense.

Perhaps there was a perfectly innocent explanation.

Still...

Her curiosity had been thoroughly piqued.

She smiled with effortless grace.

Well...

This afternoon just became much more interesting.

--

The gentlemen remained gathered near the center of the hall for only another moment.

Julian glanced down at the ivory token in his hand before slipping it into his pocket.

"So..."

"I guess this is where we part."

Adrian nodded.

"It would seem so."

Julian looked between the two of them before grinning.

"You know..."

"This is the first time I’ve wished I was assigned to Damian’s table."

Damian raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"I’d pay good money to see how you survive fifteen minutes of polite conversation with four ladies."

Adrian adjusted his glasses.

"I’ll admit..."

"I’m curious too."

Damian smiled with quiet resignation.

"I’m beginning to question why I agreed to come."

Julian laughed.

"Too late."

"We’ll compare notes afterward."

With an easy wave, Julian turned and disappeared into the crowd.

Adrian inclined his head.

"Until later."

Then he headed toward his own table as well.

For a brief moment...

Damian found himself alone.

His fingers tightened ever so slightly around the ivory token.

Almost instinctively...

His eyes threatened to wander back toward the opposite side of the hall.

He caught himself.

No.

That was precisely why he’d agreed to come today.

To stop dwelling on Vivienne Beaumont.

To spend one afternoon thinking about something—

Someone—

Else.

He slipped the token into his pocket and made his way toward Table Twenty-Seven, weaving through the steadily moving crowd of gentlemen.

Even so...

One question refused to leave him.

Why was she here?

--

Tbc