Sunlight filled the courtyard, spilling into the covered walkway where Rozalie was standing. Her father and her had arranged with the headmistress to allow a small number of students to visit the city state of Montsolei to view the proceedings of a diplomatic event as a school trip. It was bound to be quite informative, most of the students in attendance were interested in magical politics . The rest who were invited were the new muggle wizards and witches and they were bound to find the whole thing enlighteningâŚor terribly confusing. Rozalie had to admit, she wasnât sure what her fatherâs game was on this particular decision. Sometimes he did things purely for the sake of being inclusive.
Her gaze was fixed on the water fountain and the gardens beyond and surrounding. She sighed, she was wasting time, she should go meet up with the other students. She walked down the walkway, the long skirt of her dress swishing as she did, under some hanging plants and into the castle, a few hallways away from the main courtyard and the room where the delegations would be taking place. Judging by the time they had already started and all the students would be watchingâŚ
âŚall except for at least one. Her eyes narrowed as she caught sight of Marco Diaz wandering around. He looked lost and the other nobles who were not taking part in the discussions looked more than annoyed at his presence. They looked like they were considering doing something about it and that was the last thing that Roza wanted. âOh Marco!â she said pleasantly, making a show of her approach, âI didnât know you were going on the tripâŚâ She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, her hand brushing against the tiara she wore for these sorts of events. A subtle way to point out her rank, a trick her mother had taught her.
Of course he had gotten lost. Why wouldnât he? All he came here to do was to learn a little bit more about wizarding politics, and he was missing the reason he came. Marco pinched the bridge of his nose, mumbling under his breath. The politicians and nobility here were less than helpful with their venomous gazes and snide remarks. Why was no one willing to help a kid out? Obviously, he was here for school, hence his uniform. How could they even tell his blood status? Was there some innate thing that purebloods/royalty had? Did he smell different? Sure, it was probably a little uncommon for people to get lost, but it was his first time here. What the hell did they expect? He threw his arms up quickly in frustration.
As he tried to navigate, he couldnât help the sensation of being watched or followed. Then again, this was commonplace now, considering his pursuer. Marco turned his head, noticing a small group of men meandering closer to him. His heart race increased tenfold, and he picked up his pace. Surely someone wouldnât attack him in broad daylight? At a diplomatic event? Still, he didnât know this culture well. He couldnât say what theyâd do to him. They might not even be following him. They could just be walking around. But, from what he saw, they were pretty trained on him, not each other. Generally, people talked to one another. Unless wizards were different? Marco tried desperately to think of anything to calm himself, but found that these thoughts were few and far between.
Just when he thought all hope was lost, he heard a pleasantly familiar voice. Marco turned in the direction, a smile growing on his features as his friend approached. Right, this was her country. Or, her parentsâ. A wave of comfort washed over him as the men tailing him stopped. They seemed more than a little disappointed, but, the teen hoped it was just a trick of the light. âRozalie! Oh, Iâm glad to see you. Iâve been trying to find someone or someplace familiar for awhile now.â He offered a small, embarrassed smile. She seemed different in the crown, though he wondered if that was just his mind playing tricks on him. If so, it was doing that a lot.
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