She was dressed head-to-toe for the event—radiant in a fitted crimson dress that hugged her curves like it had been stitched with intention. Her high rosy cheekbones and sea-blue eyes rendered her an angelic brilliance - now that she was not pale and flushed from the aftermath of that poisoning. Her heels clicked softly on the stone path as she approached and dropped into the seat beside him, already smiling.

"You've been working like a maniac. You okay?" she asked, sounding surprisingly genuine.

"Yeah," he said, clearing his throat, sitting up straighter. "Just needed a breather. It's not too bad."

"Have you eaten anything yet?"

He shook his head. "No, but I'm fine—"

"Nope," Ruby cut in, already standing. "C'mon. There's food inside for the volunteers. I'm not letting you pass out before the event starts."

He hesitated. "Really, I'm—"

"Shut up and follow me," she said, grinning. "Come on. You've more than earned it."

He sighed, chuckling under his breath, and pulled his shirt back on before following her inside. He could swear he felt a piercing gaze on his back as he followed Ruby into the dining hall but he was determined not to turn and acknowledge him.

The inside of the Regale Foundation was even more grand than he imagined—polished floors, arched ceilings, and wide halls buzzing with volunteers and staff. The buffet was set up in one of the larger common rooms, and it was… stunning.

White-clothed tables groaned under the weight of food. Steaming rice dishes with fragrant spices, baked goods that looked like they came from gourmet patisseries, fresh juices in cut-glass dispensers, even bite-sized canapés he didn't know the name of. Everything looked expensive. Delicate.

Askai stood frozen for a beat, until Ruby nudged him.

"Go on. Grab a plate. We have a rough schedule ahead. Trust me!"

He didn't need to be told twice. This was hands-down the best part of the whole strange morning. He filled his plate with cautious portions at first, but one bite turned into two, and then he went back for seconds. He wondered if he would be allowed to stuff some of these dishes into a take away box. He shamelessly looked around but found none.

Ruby sat beside him again, a small plate in hand, which surprised him. She didn't just poke at the food like most of the polished elites he'd been around before. She actually ate. Chewed. Complimented the seasoning?! Either she was really different from the folks she socialized with or was way better actor than the remaining lot of them.

They nonetheless talked—about music, about the upcoming monsoon, about a professor Askai hated and Ruby agreed was "probably possessed." Nothing serious. Just casual chatter and conversation flew like it was the most natural thing to talk to her. For a moment, the edge in his chest dulled. He almost forgot where he was. Almost forgot the tension he'd carried in since the morning.

"Do they also have an orphanage here?" Askai asked.

"They do. That would be the West Wing. Why do you ask?" She said through a mouthful.

"Oh nothing. Just out of curiosity." Then he added, "Do they have any special acceptance criteria? Like they had to be adopted by Regale or something?"

Ruby laughed but then after seeing Askai's earnest expression, she gave it a thought.

"I don't know, honestly. But if you are interested, I'll find out. Mr. Joseph runs the orphanage. He would be able to say."

"You come here often?"

She hummed. "Birthdays, Charity Events, Election Campaign…, you name it."

Ruby had such an easy going demeanor that Askai had forgotten for a moment that he was talking to someone from an upper echelon. Ruby was a Conti - daughter of Domenico Conti, the Minister of Security and Defence and a very close aide of Vance's grandfather. Of course, she had been here. What he could not figure out was what she was doing next to him.

He was halfway through a piece of flaky stuffed pastry when one of the crew members—a tall man with a wireless headset and sharp eyes—stepped into the room.

"Askai?"

Askai blinked. "Yeah?"

"You're needed outside. It's about to start. Vance wants all hands on deck."

Of course he does, Askai thought, swallowing his bite.

He offered Ruby an apologetic smile and stood, dusting his hands. "Guess I'm up."

Ruby gave him a thumbs up. "Save me a seat at the next break, yeah?" 

She smiled warmly at him, almost hiding a strange intimacy in those turns of lips, as if she was privy to a secret Askai wasn't. He nodded, already making his way out. 

Throughout the event, Askai followed Vance like a second shadow—not out of choice, but necessity. While they had spent their entire morning ignoring each other, things had taken an entirely different turn now. Vance didn't let him drift more than a few feet away at any time. Whenever something needed doing—a mic that had to be handed over before a speech, a gift basket brought to the front, a bouquet discreetly taken from Vance's hands before he moved to shake another dignitary's—Askai was the one doing it.

He caught Vance watching him more than once. It wasn't exactly suspicious—just... fixed. Assessing. Askai couldn't tell whether he was being studied or measured, and honestly, he didn't like either. Their interactions remained polite and formal.

By the time the sun dipped low and the media had thinned out, the event began winding down. Vance disappeared into one of the guest suites Regale had reserved for him, a quiet room far from the noise.

Askai wasn't sure if he should follow, and he lingered near the hallway, unsure, until a voice called his name.

Mrs. Meredith.

She waddled over, all warmth and wrinkles, and pressed an envelope into his hand.

"From the Regale," she said with a wink. "For your time. We don't let the good ones walk away empty-handed."

Askai opened it after she walked off. Inside were crisp bills—far more than he could imagine. He stared, a wave of relief washing through him. Rent. Meals. All would be taken care of for the next month and he would still have money to spare. Maybe even a pair of decent shoes for Kael. God, he missed the boy but he dreaded the thought of approaching him empty-handed.

His shoulders slackened a little for the first time that day. He knew what was in his hand was far more than the day's pay. This was a steal. Vance was not some drunk kid at a frat party slipping bills in hopes of buying illicit pleasure. He wasn't some clueless rich heir tossing money because he didn't know its worth. He was a man—too controlled, too self-aware, too dangerously intentional—with a very clear idea of what he was doing.

If it had been anyone else, Askai would've pocketed the money without blinking and written the guy off as a generous fool trying too hard. Survival had always demanded that he take whatever scraps the world offered him. But this?

Somehow this irked him. Irked him down to bone and breath and the ugly, unspoken places he didn't examine too closely.

Because taking it from Vance didn't feel like victory. It felt like being… small. Like Vance was placing him somewhere beneath him—with good intentions, maybe, infuriatingly soft ones even—but beneath him regardless. It stung in a way Askai hated. He would rather have Vance's respect. Or his irritation. Or even his anger. Anything but his pity.

He wanted to stand in front of him—and not feel like he was someone Vance could buy….

He scoffed. Had he been a few years younger, he might have marched straight to Mrs. Meredith, shoved the envelope back in her hands, and said he didn't need anyone's damn money. But life had carved that version of him into something else. Lessons he never asked for had taught him the kind of pragmatism that left scars on his sleep.

"Askai," came Vance's voice and he turned, slipping the envelope silently into his pocket. Vance's pity was the only thing he could ever afford.