Snippet #1467591

When Matt disappeared, Westly glanced around for a moment, then shrugged. He was free to go his own way. She followed the steady stream of people, but instead of arriving where Matt had assumed, the butler led her through some room she was sure they weren't supposed to be in, and rushed her down a hallway just in time to see the pudgy announcer enter. Did all the butlers have so much lost dignity as to eat so much they could puke? Although she did see a few rather thin suitors, almost unhealthily so. She sighed when the announcer began to call out names and nearly exclaimed aloud when he said her name with so much indiffrence. Did he not care that their fates had been sealed before them? By the people he worked for? He wasn't even gusty enough to adress them their proper titles, and she was Princess Westly Greyhart, She-Wolf of the North. With that cheerful note, Wes started.
Matthias White? As in Matt?
There was a moment of silence- when even Wes was digesting the information. If it'd been any other time she would've belted out something comical to ease the tension, but she was stuck in the bubble of mindless shock. It was the kid with the green hair who popped that bubble and brought rushing back her senses; along with slight annoyance. She'd probably need to consider her friends beforehand. You know, in case she was set to marry them.
Wes brushed her red hair back, raising her eyebrows. "Matt?" She called, letting her voice echo around the room over the small chatter that had arisen.