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“Ahem.” The king presses his mouth in a thin line that somehow makes his handsome face even more handsome.
“They are pursuing careers as movie producers,” the queen says primly. By the shift in energy I can tell this is an ongoing battle between them.
“Khadesia is entering her freshman year here at Sophia University,” King Khalil says proudly.
“May I introduce my friend, Alexa?” Not wanting to leave my friend out of the conversation, I extoll all her virtues mainly of helping me navigate this new environment. I needn’t bother; they probably had dossiers on everyone present which is why they made a beeline to me when I arrived. It’s obvious they knew I’d be here.
After a few more pleasantries we meet more impressive titles. Though advised to mingle separately to foster more individualized interactions, I can’t help but appreciate Alexa’s presence by my side.
“Ladies.” One of the advisors of the program garners our attention as he approaches. He’s a dapper gentleman. I forgot what subject he teaches. I’ve met all my professors in the theater department.
“Honda, sensei,” Alexa answers as we both bow to the man.
“I have your seating assignments.” He hands them to us, bows briefly, then pivots to find the other students.
“What number do you have? You know it’s based on the rank of the host family,” she says, showing me she has table ten.
Flipping the card over, I hope that it is further down the line. Not that they still wouldn’t be wealthy or even billionaires, but it wouldn’t be the emperor’s table.
Hope whooshes out of me, along with my breath. “Table two,” I say, showing her the card.
“Wow, the people who sponsored your fellowship are second only to the imperial royal family in power. Wealth, they most assuredly, outrank them since they barely have three hundred million between the lot of them. So, think of them as you wouldthe royals,” Alexa says, giving me the information just as the dinner chime is sounded.
An attendant silently comes to stand at my side while another appears beside Alexa. I place the card in his white gloved hand and follow closely behind him as he leads me to the head tables. A sea of faces follow me as I approach. The king and queen of Morocco’s table is to the right of the emperor’s table. I breathe a sigh of relief, thinking that’s where I will be sitting. It makes the most sense.
I swallow back my surprise when he passes that table, and another Black girl is seated in the guest seat by the king and queen. So that must be table three. He moves with fluid grace around table one making sure not the show them his back. Mimicking his movements, I follow close behind.
Finally, we come to the table. My gaze is so trained on the attendant I’m following I nearly miss that he’s stopping to reach for my chair.
“Allow me.” A deep voice catches my attention. I look up meeting the inscrutable face of the most handsome man I have ever seen. A brief smile ghosts his lips as he bows slightly indicating that I should sit.
I move with the grace my mother taught me and slip into the chair he holds out. He pushes me up to the table in a smooth movement. The table is circular with about eight people present. There is no way to tell where the head of the table is.
An older handsome gentleman is to my left and turns an indulgent smile on me. “Welcome Taylor-san, as our honored guests. We are very happy to have you join us.” Several heads bow around the table in acquiesce. I notice an elegant woman who bows her head but keeps her gaze cold and unwavering on me. She’s looking at me as if I am not only beneath her but that my presence is an affront to her very being.
“Hmph,” the man clears his throat with a pained glance at the woman, who clears her expression immediately. “I am Takeda, my wife Mrs. Takeda.” The woman nods with a fake smile. “And sons, Kiyoshi,” he gestures to a young man across from me with a stoic expression that gives nothing away, “and Hisashi.” He indicates the man who held out my chair.
“How are you enjoying university?” Hisashi asks in perfect English obviously the designated host for me this evening.
“I love it,” I tell him turning toward him. “It’s very challenging.”
“Theater is challenging?” Mrs. Takeda scoffs, bluntly dismissing me. “Our last fellowship recipient was in the nuclear science program.”
“Mother,” Kiyoshi snaps. Immediately the table quiets.
“It’s alright,” Mr. Takeda says in a placating fashion. “We wanted to help someone in the arts this time. And I for one couldn’t be happier with our choice. Taylor we’ve heard many great things.”
The table affirms with cheers and raised glasses. Even the austere Kiyoshi breaks a little smile my way.
“Indeed,” Hisashi says for my ears only. “We can’t be all business with no arts to elevate us to a higher plain.”
“Arigato,” I say softly only for his ears smiling at him.
His eyes move from my eyes to my lips, darkening for a brief moment.
“Yes, well, you say thank you, like you were born here. How long did you study?” He asks, turning back to the table as large.
“We lived here for four years when I was ten,” I tell him.
