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“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.
“Yes, I am in the lobby,” I said, looking at the two people in front of me who were leaning closer. “And the names of the two at the desk are Annalena and Viktor.”
“I will call them now. Hold on one moment, Miss Wyntor.”
“No problem,” I said and smiled back at the receptionists. Both of them were frowning and confused but didn’t seem to understand or care.
It happened faster than I thought. Another woman with short, black hair and a birthmark on her chin came rushing down the stairs toward me. I knew she was the one who was going to help me because when she came down, the two behind the desk looked back over at me.
“Miss Wyntor, someone should be arriving now.”
“Yes, I see her. Thank you, Mr. Wallace.” I turned to the woman.
“Do you need me to stay on the line?” He asked.
“No. I will call back if I need you.”
“Of course.”
“Ms. Odette Wyntor?” the woman asked me.
I nodded.
“I am so sorry for the confusion! We will get you a room right away,” she said, walking around the desk.
“Really? These two told me you were fully booked,” I said, pointing to the two beside her. “And they told me no manager was available.”
