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Even so, Joyce was still taken aback by the dazzling opulence as she stepped inside.

“Lessie, is all of this real gold?” she whispered.

Alessia smirked. “Yes, it is.”

Joyce swallowed hard, instinctively hunching her shoulders.

“Already intimidated?” Alessia teased, making Joyce realize she was once again falling into the habit ofparing herself to others.

“Not at all!” Joyce protested, though she could feel her nerves tightening.

“Come on. The party’s on the top floor–we’ll need to take another elevator.” As Alessia spoke, a server approached and offered to show them the way. Alessia

exined why they were there, and after checking their invitation, the server gave a polite nod and led them to the elevator.

Joyce kept close to Alessia, silent the whole way. She didn’t have Alessia’s easy confidence, but she listened to her friend’s advice, straightened her back, and did her best to hide the

inside her.

muttering

As the elevator numbers ticked higher, Joyce’s hands grew cold and mmy. Alessia nced over and gave her arm a gentle squeeze–a small, almost childish gesture, but one that startled Joyce out of her anxious thoughts.

They exchanged a look. Joyce couldn’t help but let out a softugh, not even sure why she wasughing. Alessia’s lips curled into a faint smile as she turned her gaze away.

With a soft chime, the elevator doors slid open.

Joyce understood that stepping through those doors meant entering a different world.

“They’re just people. Nothing to be scared of, right?” she murmured,

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unsure if she was asking Alessia, herself, or no one in particr.

“Exactly. Just people,” Alessia replied.

But she didn’t open the doors. This wasn’t her moment. Instead, she looked at Joyce, and Joyce, encouraged by Alessia’s reassuring gaze, let out a shaky breath, closed her eyes for a split second, and pushed the doors open.

Even though the sun had already set, the top floor was bright as day.

There wasn’t a hint of cheapness to the décor–thick red carpets rolled out beneath their feet, nked by elegant pastries and a tower of sparkling champagne. As they walked down the corridor, the distant sounds of music andughter drifted toward them.

Joyce nced at the beautiful pastries, untouched and perfectly arranged, and pressed her lips together.

It was in details like these that the differences between people became

obvious.

The first slice of cake she ever had was in college, a gift from Alessia and her friends. For these rich kids, though, pastries were nothing more than decorative props, barely noticed.

Back home, even when the most respected elder in the vige celebrated his eightieth birthday, the festivities could neverpare to the

extravagance of a casual party thrown by this crowd of heirs and heiresses.

After another server collected their invitation, he led them through a grand hallway to the main event.

Clusters of young people lounged on velvet sofas, tables strewn with cards and dice. Joyce’s sharp eyes spotted the stacks of chips on one of the tables.

“Lessie, what are those?” she asked quietly.

“Chips. When they y these little games, they make bets–not always money, sometimes it’s something of equal value, or a favor,” Alessia

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exined, leaning in close.

Joyce nodded, only half understanding, as she scanned the room for

Fortune.

As if summoned by thought, Fortune suddenly appeared out of nowhere.

“Joyce,” she called.

Fortune’s voice drew the attention of the room; several people paused mid–conversation to nce their way. When Joyce and Alessia looked back at them, most quickly lowered their heads, whispering among themselves.

“Fortune,” Joyce replied, her voice dropping unconsciously under the weight of so many unfamiliar eyes.

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