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((Triple Saturday -- Page 1 of 3))
He had no idea what do, but he tried not to let that show on his face. He didn’t know how successful he was at that, since there were probably about a thousand different ways for facial expressions and body language to be interpreted, but he did his best. It helped that he was able to compartmentalize this panic a little. He could focus on his body, his breathing, his posture--his existence in the universe, even. Like meditating.

When everyone started moving again, though, that wasn’t much of a solution anymore. For a terrible second, he was worried that the press was going to start asking tons of questions, but apparently not. They were only allowed to take pictures and video, thankfully.

The dining tables were cleared away, and Hector was given a box to store all his cards in. The guests began to spread out and talk amongst themselves again, but Hector still couldn’t help feeling like everyone was still staring at him. It was enough to make him consider putting on his armor again, just to help him cope with the pressure.

But then, he supposed he’d felt worse than this. Not much worse, but worse. Talking to Ivan and Leo, specifically came to mind. And Malast, too?

Actually, no, not really. He hadn’t felt all that much pressure talking to that guy, comparatively speaking. Perhaps it was because he’d never really felt like Malast might slaughter him and everyone around him. That did tend to increase the stress level of a situation.

Ugh. He was not looking forward to talking to Leo again.

When he thought about it like that, though, it made all this attention feel a bit more bearable.

Madame Carthrace soon found him and started going through his invitations with him.