Coldsnap: The Billionaire Alpha's Fated Pregnant Princess (GL)-Chapter 357 - Mingle For Show, Mangle For Sport

Chapter 357: Chapter 357 - Mingle For Show, Mangle For Sport

I’d expected some resistance when I physically angled the man directly between myself and that woman’s waiting position - after a flurry of photos were taken. Instead, the Beta simply adjusted under the guidance. As if being used as a living shield was part of his job description.

Perhaps it was. No less than the royal guard of my kingdom. But it does make me irritated. That I even needed to use him this way, just to keep away from someone that will not keep away from me.

"I imagine coordinating security for an event like this presents unique challenges. What is your take on it?"

"Several entry points. Mixed crowd of rich humans and a handful of our more social wolves. Expensive items and people on display. But it’s usually the area around the location of high-profile events that you have to be most careful of."

That woman’s face sharpened with irritation as we passed without acknowledging her. The small victory of her being snubbed by the person she can’t let go of talking to the rogue she disdains probably wasn’t worth the eventual consequences, but I’d take my petty pleasures where I could find them.

Inside, we found ourselves on the mezzanine of the converted event hall. Closer to the soaring ceilings draped in a sequined fabric that caught the lighting to look like fresh snow hanging in the air.

Dominating the center of the space was the runway, large ice sculptures flanking either side of it. Chairs were lined up below the stage for the guests to relax and watch the show. With photographers already set up and waiting to dazzle the models at work. Poor them... I won’t miss that tonight.

"Ms. Lomdi! I’m so pleased you could make it."

Maia appeared with hushed excitement at my elbow, compared to how loud I know her voice can get. The production coordinator looked every bit as sharp in her evening wear as she did on set - this time actually in a whole dress herself, somewhat matching the theme with its white base and black sequin pattern.

> No, it does not look like a metallic zebra. Don’t be rude. <

"Thank you. You look stunning, Ms. Katsaros."

"Ember spares no expense for us or the showcase. Which is to say, the ticket sales do the heavy lifting. But that dress might make him regret inviting you. You’ll make quite the statement with that woman’s clothing."

A bit of professional jealousy was clear, but it wasn’t very evil-hearted. I think.

"What can I say? A friend insisted I needed to make an impression tonight. She doesn’t want me to... go out with a whimper."

"Speaking of which, would you like a quick tour backstage? The models are in final preparations for the first set... but I think Ember would appreciate you showing your face there before the show."

"Is Simone there?"

She nodded and I glanced at Luca, who gave a small nod of his own. He’d remain ’around’ but could manage without shadowing me through the restricted areas that probably have lots of women busily changing.

> Actually, isn’t it just as *bad* for me to be back there as it would be for a man? Especially compared to one who would probably stare at the ceiling and walk into a wall rather than dare stare at them. I suppose it would be the *moral* thing to refuse... <

My wolf growls and scratches at the ground, knowing I have no intention of passing up the opportunity.

"I’d love that. Would you lead me through?"

⧖ ☾ ❄ ☽ ⧖

The backstage area was as chaotic as either set I’d been on, maybe more. And the models themselves... oh, it was delicious. Their gazes and reactions to my full face confident smirks.

Expressions ranging from curious to calculating to outright hostile. Women who’d built their careers on their proportions fitting a very specific mold, now watching someone with decidedly different assets receiving special attention from the production team.

"Everyone, this is Citra Lomdi. I’m sure you’ve seen the promotional materials, she worked our recent editorial shoot."

A few smiles appeared, the professional and meaningless sort. Others simply turned back to their preparations, dismissing me as not worth the mental energy while they were getting ready for their own moment.

But the sneers from a pair near the corner and their whispered comments about Ember Beau Laurent singing praises ’for this’ just loud enough for my enhanced hearing? It made my spine straighten and my chin lift automatically.

> Envy and jealousy are both very filling, thank you very much. <

Taking in every detail of their angular frames and posture with the kind of sweeping assessment I’d perfected in court, I decide that being openly hostile would be beneath me. But finding them lacking in ways I didn’t need to voice was easy.

They think those height and waist measurements of theirs make them superior females? That striding on stage like a gazelle about to collapse is somehow more impressive than actually having presence, no matter your dimensions?

Locking eyes with one of those that needed to put me down with her gossip partner, she actually looked away first. In my mindscape, my cream colored fox tail swished with satisfaction against the legs of my black wolf spirit.

Another small, petty win for me!

"Citra obviously has a very different energy than what we usually see on the runway. But still, Ember was quite disappointed she couldn’t walk tonight."

Seemingly oblivious to the silent exchanges, the not-assistant fuels the flames. Still holding contact with the second woman - a blonde who was trying very hard to look unimpressed and like she had not just said anything...

"I had no desire to step on any toes. Though I’m looking forward to seeing the full collection in motion. I’m sure all of you are the epitome of professionals in your field, especially if Mr. Laurent allowed you to wear his clothes tonight."

My insinuation was clear. They were hired - allowed - but I was *wanted* despite their existing contracts. Their opinions therefore meant nothing to me.

"Well, you’ll have the best view from the VIP guest section. Shall we head back out? I’m sure lots of people are eager to speak with you."

As we made our exit and I waved at Simone looking everywhere but at anyone in the room, I caught one final set of whispers from a different section. The ’indifferent’ folks. Something about excessive curves and pin-up girl aesthetics. With just enough venom to make the distinction between their style and mine clear.

Runway models really are territorial about their little domain. Like all artists. As if being able to starve yourself for your purpose makes you powerful rather than just... hungry. Really, I should have eaten more before I came here.

⧖ ☾ ❄ ☽ ⧖

The next hour blurred into exactly the performance I’d expected. Business cards from photographers, boutique owners, and other people whose industry titles and goals I immediately forgot.

Compliments on the dress I deflected toward Anise’s skill and short plugs for Crystalline Spa. Questions about my background, I answered with off-hand partial truths. All the while, my awareness kept snagging on two things.

The first was Victoria’s presence circulating through the VIP area with all the social grace of a tigress. She worked the room like someone who belonged here, which old money and old roots inarguably did when there was networking to do.

The second was the werewolf she kept returning to talk with throughout the evening. An unfamiliar face, but considering she did not have so much ’resting bitch face’ when talking to him... I could assume he was a Rimecoat.

Dark-haired, tall, broad-shouldered and defined chest in his well-tailored suit. Most all of them tend to be just that, from what I’ve seen. Or so I think while I glance at my security hanging around nearby.

> Do they have a catalogue and workout regimen they all follow? <

The pair of them spoke openly and comfortably from what I could tell. Like old acquaintances rather than a new connection. Probably another socialite that I haven’t bothered learning, since I avoided being brought into their circle as much as I could.

Near a display of photographs, I saw Sonya stood there explaining her choices to a cluster of interested parties that had caught her. The bar was not far away - and I took note that the man was apparently one of them.

Though he is listening and watching from a distance while remaining engaged in the orbit of others speaking nearby. I wonder if the photographer has an admirer?

"Ms. Lomdi, could I get a photo of you with some of the showcase pieces?"

"Of course."

The next several minutes were spent in impromptu posing near the displays, as Sonya directed me with the same easy expertise as my first professional model session. It was a social performance of its own, but it was still a welcome distraction.

Especially when I felt sure I could hear one woman’s teeth grinding together as networking interest turned toward me. And one straight-laced man rubbed his own temples like I was starting a war he would have to intervene in.