The Grand Hall of Whitemore
Whitemore Hall was spacious enough to comfortably fit two full-size tennis courts.
A high ceiling, created by removing two entire floors, was adorned with massive crystal chandeliers that cast sparkling light across every corner of the hall.
Heavy marble pillars in the Colonial style supported the four corners, while the ceiling and walls were elegantly decorated with artistic boiserie.
In such a classic and majestic space, it was easy to imagine a grand ball filled with nobles in elaborate dresses and tuxedos.
Yet the gentlemen and ladies gathered here were all twelve or at most thirteen years old.
The mezzanine balcony that occupied one entire wall served as the VIP area, offering a perfect view of the dance floor from above.
Right now, that narrow space was bustling with parents from the Upper East Side private schools who had come to watch the first-year cotillion class.
Instead of waving ornate fans, they held smartphones, and instead of elegant socialites from two hundred years ago, they were gathered watching their children’s debuts.
Roughly one hundred children sat in chairs arranged along the outer edge of the hall in a “C” shape.
The girls in their dresses and white satin gloves sat paired with the boys in their formal suits.
Jiyu scanned from the left end all the way to the right, but every seat was taken.
She froze in place, then turned around only to find that Hunter had already climbed up to the balcony.
The stares from the latecomer at the entrance prickled her skin. A wave of heat began at her ears and spread to her cheeks. “Should I run?”
At that moment, the elderly man leaning on the grand piano on the stage noticed her and pointed to the right. “Sit at the far end.”
He then instructed the assistant stagehand standing below, “Bring another chair.”
Letting out a relieved sigh, Jiyu glanced toward the spot the elderly man had indicated. At the far right end of the C-shaped arrangement, Rex and Hunter were sitting side by side. Every other child was paired by gender, but these two were both boys.
Jiyu lowered her head and hurried across the stage, only for the elderly man to speak again into the microphone. “Mr. Hamilton, please stand up and give the lady your seat.”
Startled, she stopped and looked up. Hunter rose slowly from his chair with an expression of both exasperation and boredom. The chair scraped loudly across the glossy marble floor as it was pushed back.
Their eyes met. Hunter’s piercing blue gaze swept over Jiyu, who had carefully applied makeup. With that sharp look still fixed on her, he stepped back and stood beside the empty chair. “Of all people… Hunter.”
Jiyu bit her lip to avoid his gaze. The hierarchical sense that had been deeply ingrained in her since childhood left her utterly restless. She had never seen Hunter willingly give up his seat to anyone, nor had she ever seen anyone force him to do so. Giving up his seat to some nobody named “Joo Parker” and waiting was simply unthinkable. “If it’s just the two of us, I could complain and make a scene…”
A sigh escaped her. She wanted to say she would stand and wait for Hunter instead, but with countless eyes watching her, the words stuck in her throat and refused to come out.
Hunter was dressed in a dark navy blazer paired with sky-blue pants, and his tie was neatly knotted. The formal look somehow felt alien on him. Normally, he layered a short-sleeve shirt with a school logo over a button-down shirt, and he always left the buttons undone so he could shed it at any moment. His tie was also loosened so he could remove it instantly. The school blazer only ever appeared in his tennis bag alongside spare athletic wear, and she had never seen him wear it except on official school days or yearbook photos.
At some point, the children who hung around with him had started copying his “Hunter look.” The trend spread like wildfire. Alton School’s sixth-grade uniforms looked particularly neat and put-together thanks to Hunter’s influence.
Jiyu glanced sideways at Hunter, who frowned at her hesitation. He jerked his chin toward the empty chair beside him. She had no choice but to walk stiffly to the seat.
At that moment, the elderly man spoke into the microphone again. “Mr. Hamilton, please stand up, hold the back of the chair, and slide it in slightly for the lady.”
Every pair of eyes turned toward them. Jiyu froze, trying to sit, her face paling then flushing bright red. She squeezed her eyes shut in despair, but the children’s gazes remained fixed on them. An internal scream she couldn’t let out filled her head.
Right then, Hunter pushed the chair firmly from behind, knocking its edge into her knees. Off balance, Jiyu flailed her arms wildly before dropping into the seat with a heavy thud. Several children giggled at the sight.
Before she could even catch her breath, Rex bumped her shoulder with his own. “Hi, Liv.”
Jiyu was jolted sideways before she could steady herself, then she glared at Rex through the corner of her eye. His deep green and light brown heterochromatic eyes, framed by wavy brown hair that fell to his jawline, gleamed with playful mischief. Those eyes, the color of sea glass under the summer sun, were dazzling.
For a moment, she was lost in thought as she stared at him. Rex was far prettier than the other children rumored to be beautiful at Astor School. Even when she had thought he was a girl, she had almost believed it. Lately, as his height had shot up and his shoulders had broadened, his facial features had become sharper, and she missed the soft look from his younger years just a little. “Hi, Rex.”
Back in lower school, Jiyu had befriended Rex by attending Saturday Korean lessons together every week. He was similar to Hunter in some ways but different in others. Among the children, Rex was the only one she found easy to talk to. Like Hunter, Rex was self-centered and indifferent to others, so it had taken time for them to become friends. But once they did, he was surprisingly kind. Rex, with his messy hair and glowing heterochromatic eyes, looked utterly innocent, so the rumor that he was the most notorious troublemaker in the Upper East Side had seemed exaggerated. When he was off his guard, he would tease her mercilessly, though he had never picked on any child weaker than himself.
During weekends when events were held at Hunter’s house, the Korean lesson location would switch to Rex’s residence. Lafayette Residence felt more like a small European museum than a home. Compared to the classic Hamilton Residence, it looked rather modern. The few times she had met Rex’s father, Andre de Lafayette, he had been the most terrifying person she had ever encountered. He had never raised his voice at her, yet the sight of him summoning Rex to the study with that ice-cold expression was something she had witnessed several times. Whenever that happened, her heart would pound just from making eye contact by accident. Thinking of defying and rebelling against such a father made her knees weak. At times she wondered if Rex had gone slightly mad, yet she sometimes envied his courage. Even though Rex caused endless trouble despite constant scolding, Jiyu called him a “rebel.” She didn’t fully understand what a rebel was, but she had guessed it meant someone stronger confronting someone weaker.
One day, Rex’s mother had come to have tea with Lauren. Jiyu, tired of the endless quarrels between Hunter and Rex over the same things, had fled to the playroom and hidden in a corner of the living room reading a book. Because the room was so quiet, Lauren and Miriam had chatted away while placing elegant teacups in front of them.