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Genevieve slept until 10:25 a.m., still jet-lagged and having not yet adjusted to local time.

When Natalie woke her up and alerted her to the hour, the Marisian princess paled.

"It's fine, Gen, really," Natalie said soothingly. "The brunch is on the first floor, right? It can't take that long to find. Let's say five minutes, ten tops. That gives us almost thirty to get you ready, and the invite says this is a much more casual affair."

Genevieve nodded, but still sat, the wheels of her mind spinning without traction, until Natalie pulled her gently to her feet and shooed her in the direction of the bathroom. "Shower. Fast. I'll lay out some clothes for you in the meantime."

Genevieve did as she was told.

Fifteen minutes later, she was wrapped in a towel, hair mostly dry, as Natalie tried to reconcile the makeup looks Genevieve usually favored on social media with the more understated sort more appropriate for a light brunch. Dark eyeliner with a bit of a shimmer, mascara—Gen's mortal enemy—and a lip color just this side of red turned out to be a fair compromise.

After that, it only took a few minutes to select an outfit from the impressive array Natalie had laid out on the bed: a soft tunic the color of butterscotch, belted at the waist; a pair of dark, narrow-legged jeans; and simple ballet flats to give her feet a break from yesterday's heels.

"Is it going to look weird if we braid my hair two days in a row?" Genevieve asked. "Especially since this [I]is[/I] more casual?"

"Not if we make the braids look different," Natalie said, already going to work. "Besides, maybe this can become your signature thing while you're here, since you can't wear your Twitter-lipstick with everything."

At exactly 10:53, Genevieve stepped out of her room, a loose French braid falling artfully over one shoulder, and tried to orient herself based on map of the palace's layout she'd just been looking at.

As she walked, she pulled her phone out of the small purse she'd brought in lieu of using Christopher as a walking handbag. She'd left her "bodyguard" behind, afraid he would be out of place at such a low-key event and not wanting to offend her hosts with the implication that she could be in any danger in such a private room, without the chaos and foot traffic of last night's ball.

[I]"Hey, Liv,"[/I] she texted, reaching out to the one person with whom she'd managed to exchange numbers the night before, [I]"I'm heading down to brunch, just barely on time. If you're already there, will you save me a seat?"[/I]

Yes, it was probably lame, trying to set up an event-buddy before she even walked in the door. But, Genevieve reasoned, Liviana would probably be just as happy to see a familiar face…and she really wanted to avoid the awkwardness of entering the party and not knowing where to go.


[I](Interacting with [@Amethyst], but it's up to her whether or not Liv responds, and I would be delighted if anyone wants to bump into Genevieve en route) [/i]