The woman was dressed with effortless grace—too perfectly poised for someone simply asking to swap seats. Her eyes flicked toward Joanne, not unkind, but far too curious. Too calculated. Like a chess master considering her next move.
She ignored everyone else. And they, in turn, looked at her with a quiet reverence that spoke volumes. Though she was disrupting the order of the royal box, no one dared to correct her. She carried herself with the sort of dignity that made space without asking for it.
Something had shifted.
And Joanne felt it in her bones.
There was something familiar about her—her face, her bearing. Had she seen her in a magazine? An interview? A red carpet event? Joanne couldn't place it.
The woman finally settled into the seat beside her. "Hello, there…" she said, as if just now noticing Joanne, despite her clearly orchestrated maneuver to sit right next to her.
