Celestia Eleanor Young is the newest generation of the Pure-blood Young family of Singapore. The Young Clan has the power of a monarchy and the wealth of a first-world country.
Not only does she have to prove herself to her family that she's capable...
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"Be careful, your fingers!" Mum warns us as we push through the hotel doors drenched in rain.
Astrid and I giggle at Nick who was smearing the marble floor with wet mud from the bottom of his shoes, while Auntie Felicity scolds him in her mother tongue.
"If you didn't make us walk, we wouldn't be soaked," Mum complains to us in Cantonese, walking up to the reception area with me close behind.
"Hear that, Nick? It's all your fault," I teasingly call over my shoulder, earning an eyeroll from my older brother of two years. We both know well that we had the same amount of interest, but I do love to push the blame entirely on him.
"May I help you? This is the Calthorpe. Private hotel." The receptionist eyes Mum and me as if we're anything beneath him. How I would love to sack him later.
"I'm Missus Eleanor Young," Mum begins, with perfect composure like the elite pure-blood lady she is, "I have a reservation at the Vice Presidential Malfoy Suite. We spoke on the phone when I confirmed yesterday."
The receptionist dismissively flips through the guest lists before looking up with such arrogance. "Sorry, we don't seem to have your reservation."
"May we have a look at it too, please," I suggest. "Perhaps we would find something other than your filthy attitude."
I catch a glimpse of a proud little smile on Mum's face. In any other circumstance she'd definitely tell me to hold my tongue, but we would never hold back in the face of disrespect, especially from those beneath us. On the other hand, I can tell that the receptionist was both surprised and offended by an insult coming from a mere eleven-year-old girl, but the manager appears around the corner before he could even speak.
"Good evening, I am Reginald Ormsby, hotel manager. Is there a problem?" Right away, I could tell that his bald head was even further up his arse than the receptionist's.
"I'm Missus Eleanor Young. My family and I would like to be shown to our suite," Mum starts again, a tad more impatient this time. "We've had a long flight."
That "long flight" was just a 5 second floo. We obviously could've floo'd right into the suite itself, instead of some dusty old fireplace in an empty restaurant on the streets of London. However, Nick decided to play humble today out of all days and made us all walk in the heavy rain.
"We're fully booked, Madam. You must've made a mistake," Ormsby says, an irritating grin plastered on his face. "I'm sure you and your lovely family could find another accommodation? May I suggest you explore Chinatown?"
With that beyond disrespectful comment, I had no problem with immediately opening my mouth to insult him back, but Auntie Felicity beats me to it. "You can explore Hell, you dog turd," She curses in Cantonese.
