-6.27.19-

a/n: 13 revisions later, hahaha... hah...

Note: I went back to the previous chapter and played around for hopefully better flow. By the way, if you want some music suggestions for these chapters then I highly recommend Studio Ghibli Jazz Cafe on YouTube!

Abundant thanks to you, my guest reviewers, as always! :D

Chapter 60: Rule Number One

Poppies.

Lipstick.

Cherries.

If Sophie were a real princess these might be nice, elegant color descriptors but she wasn't, and the fact was simple: her face was bright red.

Dress and all, if she laid down she'd disappear into the equally red carpet because Justin was kissing her hand.

His gray gaze held hers as his lips slowly left her skin.

"You look lovely," he murmured.

In a velvet motion he returned to her side, tall in white. His rich cologne pervaded the tiny space between them. "Sophie, I'd like to introduce you to my father's chief information and marketing officers," he said. "This is Mister…"

The businessmen smiled at her, eyes bright with curiosity.

Sophie smiled back, frozen.

"Where do you work, Miss Hatter?" one of them asked.

"Suliman Corporation. I'm a secretary," Sophie desperately tried to contact her brain while discreetly glancing at Justin, "that is, I work for Dr. Pendr -"

"She's in their corporate division," Justin interjected, casually placing a palm on her back. "They're lucky to have her."

"Corporate, eh?" the man replied. "I hear there are some big changes coming around the corner for you guys."

"You're right about that."

They chatted on for a bit.

Sophie had already forgotten everyone's names, almost dizzyingly aware of the press of Justin's fingers through her lace dress back. In all the years she'd known him he had never touched her like this.

Was this normal at galas? Not that she disliked it, it was just that...

Well, it was almost too embarrassing to consider, but it was almost as if Justin...?

"Justin, my boy!" a voice boomed.

Startled, they turned in unison. If Sophie hadn't been already sensitive she would have missed Justin's sigh.

From the foot of the stairs, flanked by local dignitaries, strode a man so imposing Sophie felt he was an approaching mountain. Green brocade crossed the range of his shoulders, under which a bronze vest peered like the rising sun. His thick auburn hair and mustache blazed. His proud neck sported a banner of white silk, and when he and Justin clasped hands the air quaked.

Six years since their first and only meeting hadn't dimmed the force of nature that was President Gerald Tharaldson, the "King" of Royal Airlines.

"Father," Justin greeted.

"So formal with your old man! How's your favorite little getaway?"

"Ingary is lovely, as always. How was your flight?"

"Excellent! This party could use a bit of spice, though Suliman did well with that open bar, I'll give her that!" President Tharaldson laughed before turning his gray eyes, the most overt trait he and Justin shared, on Sophie. "Who's this?"

Sophie rested the impulse to curtsy and instead offered a handshake, "Sophie Hatter, sir."

Justin's palm slid to her shoulder. "Father, you remember Sophie."

The King arched a thick brow. "Of course," he answered, accepting Sophie's now awkwardly outstretched hand. "Forgive this old geezer a lapse. You seem to have grown into a fine woman since we last met."

Then to Sophie's surprise he gave her hand a whiskered kiss!

"Now if that isn't a proper Strangian greeting!" the King winked.

"Father."

Startled Sophie glanced up. Justin's usual poise had been replaced by a mask. His smooth jaw twitched.

The King smiled. "Ah that's right! Miss Sophie, if you don't mind I'll be borrowing my son for a bit. There's something we forgot to discuss."

"Father -"

"A quick word, son."

Justin frowned as his father strode off. "I apologize, Sophie. I'll find you in a few minutes, okay?" Forehead furrowed, he squeezed her shoulder before following the president.

A hundred glittering eyes suddenly fixed themselves upon her, and alone on the stairs Sophie shrunk. She felt like a mouse who had accidentally knocked over a pile of gems in a dragon's lair, a target when all she wanted was to relax in a corner and maybe eat some cheese.

The murmurs grew louder. She quickly grabbed a passing attendant's sleeve:

"I hear there's a bar?"

If there was something to be said of alcohol, it's that it's best enjoyed in twilight.

Shadowed beneath the balcony near the dance floor, the long, dark bar top warmed under fluorescent back-lights, creating a surprisingly modern accent in the historic venue.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?" the bartender asked, wiping his hands with a cloth as Sophie sat herself on the nearest suede stool.

"An Imperial Old Fashioned," she answered promptly.

He snorted.

Ignoring him, Sophie dipped her head in the dim light and smoothed her dress. As she thought, the vivid color didn't really suit her.

Nine days ago in her office, President Suliman had given her three rules to follow. "Stand out" was the first. Despite her efforts, this task was completely outside her nature. Impossibly her best counterpart in this was likely currently chatting up some woman in a club… or playing airplanes with his son. Howl the Enigma.

She could only imagine his snarky commentary.

She just hoped that Justin… well, she hoped her drink came before the paparazzi did.

A gentle clink sounded.

The bartender was walking away and a sparkling tumbler of amber sat before her. Underneath, however, was something scribbled on a napkin. Sophie curiously peeled it away.

"Love the dress," it read, "nice touch with the pearls.

"Ps- this isn't watered down.

"From,

your sexy bartender."