She wanted to pretend like she didn't notice.
Baros Sal-Soren
shouldn't have been on her radar and yet her internal compass ticked immediately in his direction. Cybelle hadn't seen him in years, and yet, it seemed that he had scarcely changed. She could see Brandyn's mother…
Brandyn…Before they got lost in the crowd. Spinning dizzily in the arms of a man that held the empathy of a gnat wasn't helping matters.
How did people deal with this?
"That would be a three percent return?"
Cybelle was trying with varying levels of difficulty to understand what it was that Lord Whalon was talking about. It seemed that he was aware that she had recently accessed her late parents' estates and had questions about her next steps with Elyance Industries. The company, even without singular oversight, apparently did very well for itself and provided a good portion of textiles to the cluster. The young Knight hadn't thought on it one way or the other.
She was a Jedi to the core. Worldly things like this—It wasn't in her wheelhouse.
"No, no dear girl. It's a two-point nine nine percent return. Do try and keep up.", Lord Whalon responded with a derisive snort while he led them through the steps of a common Hapan waltz. It became clear to him quickly that although his dance partner was quite fetching, she lacked the expected social graces and etiquette of the Court. She could puppet it well enough—But his eye was too keen.
"If you're going to survive the climate here you must invest wisely. Know, your worth."
Whalon knew her worth. Down to the singular credit, actually. That fact alone made up for what she seemed to lack in general know-how. A diamond in the rough, perhaps.
"You need guidance. A firm hand. Someone to control your accounts—"
Cybelle breathed in deeply and tried to form an adequate response but was spared by several things happening all at the same time. A distinguished and dark-haired gentleman seemed to lose his footing (
Judah Lesan
) and dumped hot tea on the backside of her dance partner. To his credit, Lord Whalon didn't screech, but his back snapped straight and he immediately began to look for the culprit while cursing their name.
"T-The absolute indignity!"
He began gripping her hands a little too hard in his anger and the Knight pulled them free with an obvious tug that let her stumble back a few paces.
"Lord Whalon—"
"Did you see? Who was it? I'll have their hide for this—Their whole line will suffer for this."
"Surely, it was accidental…"
"Don't be daft, woman. It was jealousy! This licentious crowd has no propriety. No respect for their betters. These people don't belong in the Palace and I will ensure that the Court hears of how I have been unduly targeted and mistreated. The perpetrator will be punished!", Whalon began to rant and Cybelle could only stare with ever-widening eyes while his attendants stepped forward to try and clean up the mess. She didn't understand what the fuss was. He didn't seem to be burned and it was just a spot of tea.
"Security! I require security—I have been assaulted!"
"Lackadaisical fools—Why are they not doing the job our taxes pay them to do?! Insulting, insulting!"
Cybelle could feel a distinct sense of mortification settling in while she began to back away slowly. It was only the appearance and fanfare of the arrival of the Queen
Kha'la Daaray
that hid the altercation. There was very little more interesting in the room than the royal hosting the event. The auburn-haired Hapani felt her eyes drawn to the balcony and just like everyone else she endured a silent moment of awe. The woman was graceful, swathed in light, colors—Reminiscent of a butterfly.
She had only the briefest moment to see the Queen. To see her personal guard drift to her side. It was similar to the way Brandyn had appeared to her. Out of the blue—Exactly when she needed him.
Before she could overanalyze the events further or deal with the Banking Clan fiasco, she felt hands in her own and was once again swept onto the dance floor. Far, far away from the raging noble. Cybelle took in the flaxen-haired female with a critical eye. Her gown was a shade of crimson that was so blood-like that it made her blink. While Belle had taken a conservative approach this individual had seemingly been poured into her clothing as it fit her like a second skin. That, plus the interruption, meant
confidence in spades.
Something Cybelle was currently lacking.
It was the conversation that followed that actually caused a finely arched eyebrow to raise.
…Look like she wasn't interested in men? Dawning came to Cybelle a moment too late and once again a light blush stole across her features. She hadn't been interested in Lord Whalon in the slightest but she supposed that onlookers wouldn't know that. Dancing with a woman may deter others but it also provoked a challenge. "You are quite fabulous.", Cybelle intoned after a moment while pressing on a good-natured smile. She would play along.
Especially, once she mentioned Brandyn. Cybelle didn't want to appear overly eager and chocolate eyes swept the marble floor. The colors of their gowns flew by in feathery swirls. They hadn't exactly hidden their encounter but the little Hapani was still confused as to why anyone would pay her any sort of mind. Brandyn did. But, Bran was different.
"…I'm not so sure Jedi Sal-Soren would like that very much."
Ever of a practical mind. While everyone here should have been present for peace-related topics; that didn't mean they were all on good terms. It was prudent to be shrewd even if the taller woman had saved her from a very unpleasant encounter. Her smile was gracious, soft, and touched with an edge of gratitude while they moved through a lively waltz.
"My name is Cybelle. And you?"