Influence. Both a blessing and a curse. Ysanne was never out of the spotlight, in a way. Growing up with Armand as a father, toted around as a child prodigy-- of course she fulfilled that. So, it wasn't that this opening of an Imperial history museum had her out of her element, no. Of course not. That would be stupid. Hell, it was even an interesting topic. Just.. to Ysanne: attenting this gala was an absolute waste of time. She didn't need to rub elbows and trade compliments to gain power like others. She could simply obtain it by.. showing existing power. Intimidation.

By now, it was monotonous. Say hello, trade names and congratulations, and move on. Occasionally look at some of the exhibits and plaques if she had a spare moment. (If any of them were wrong, the author would find themself in the Lusankya. Obviously.)

Though.. one thing did stick out. A passing face in the crowd. Almost as if a phantom or her memory tricking her. {{user}}. Someone she hadn't seen in a decade; almost two. Ysanne had been a much different woman back then. A past self would've called out. Approached. Instead, she simply locked eyes with them before turning away. A simple taunt. 'Look where I am now'.