Total pages in book: 124
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116570 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 583(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 389(@300wpm)
That was just one small detail in a sea of details before you reached the doors of the place. But before the black iron gate with the letter M, which was written in gold, was a large plaza with some pattern that I could not see from where I was sitting.
“Second biggest palace in Europe!” the driver exclaimed proudly.
“I can see.” I knew they had not built it recently or in the last few hundred years, but still, it was easy to see that their family had spent money—unbelievable amounts of money. No wonder they came looking for mine. What was the upkeep for something like that? As we drove by, I saw the soldiers dressed in red and black standing at the gates like statues as tourists tried to take photos.
“Beautiful, yes?”
“Yes.” I nodded, staring at it, amazed.
I grew up wanting for nothing. I had more money than people could ever dream of, and I couldn’t imagine what it must have been like to grow up in something like that. Shaking my head, I looked away.
A few minutes later, we reached the hotel where I was staying, and although it was beautiful, after seeing the palace, it seemed like any other building on the block.
“Thank you,” I said to the driver.
He had been a fun mini-tour guide. He waved as I entered the marble and red-carpeted lobby, walking up to the desk.
“Welcome, may I help you?” a dark-haired woman asked, looking me up and down, and I didn’t understand why she looked at me with confusion.
“Yes, reservation for Wyntor,” I replied, giving her my passport.
She clicked the computer for a second before looking back at me. “Sorry, ma’am, I cannot seem to find your reservation.”
“Really?” I asked, taking out my cell phone and showing her the confirmation I had received.
“Yes, sorry, but that does not seem to be in our system,” she said, barely glancing at the reservation.
“Well, it is in my system,” I said to her. “My card was charged too.”
“May I see?” she asked, and I gave her the card.
I had a weird feeling, and I didn’t like it.
At the same time, a man came up beside her and asked her in Ersovian. “Are you all right here?”
“She wants the royal suite,” she muttered back, looking at me. “I’m checking the card she used now. You know.”
I bit my lip. I may not have been able to speak Ersovian well, but my understanding was quite good. I wanted to let her know I could hear the ignorance hidden behind her fake professionalism and smile. It was clear she thought I was not the type of person who could have the royal suite. I hated people like this, and what made it worse was that she was probably my age, if not just a little bit older. And yet she had the nerve to still act like this behavior was okay.
“May I speak to the manager then?” I asked, still trying to be polite.
“One moment.” The man held up a finger to me, not bothering to look at me as he also stared at the screen. After another minute, he looked up and gave me back my card. “There seems to be a small mistake. We are fully booked, ma’am. If you call your bank, I’m sure they will be able to help you with any charges.”
“I ordered a room. I paid for a room. That seems to be a hotel issue, not a bank one. So, may I speak to a manager?”
“There is nothing they would be able to do, miss. If you’d like, we can find other... more affordable accommodation—”
“This is affordable accommodations, hence why I booked it. I am tired. Again, is the manager available?”
“At this time, no,” he said. They both looked annoyed as if I was the issue, not them. The female sighed heavily, typing whatever the hell she was typing.
The more they spoke, the angrier I became, but my father had always told me not to fight the ignorant directly because it didn’t change them. It just reinforced their prejudice. Instead, beat them down with the two things we did have—money and influence.
Taking out my phone, I dialed, waiting for a second before he answered.
“Miss Wyntor, how may I help you?”
“Hi, Mr. Wallace, I’m sorry to be calling so suddenly, but I need your help. Would you happen to know the owner of the Lal-et-Loire Hotel in Ersovia, where you booked accommodation for me? I am currently having issues with their front desk. Apparently, there is a problem with my room, and I cannot seem to get in touch with a manager here.”
Both the woman and the man looked at me as if I were insane, and I just smiled.
“What? Wait a moment. I know them. Are you still there now?” he asked.