Sometimes, Regina felt like a piece of merchandise, displayed in the center of the foyer for the passersby to scrutinize at will, but now she knew it was a necessity.
Her family needed her to play the part, and it's not as if she lacked the know-how.
Growing up immersed in the social graces, how could she genuinely be clueless about connecting with her elders?
Besides, until she was ten, her mother had always been by her side, holding her hand at every party, introducing her to all the familiar faces. Her mother needed to stay on good terms with these people; after all, they'd be the ones she'd rely on to look out for Regina.
"Agnes, it's been ages! How do you manage to look younger every time I see you?"
The woman known as Agnes turned with a smile, giving Regina a once-over and said, "Hmm, not bad. You're blossoming beautifully, more and more like your mother each day. You've even got her charm, don't you? Trying to butter me up, huh?"
Regina feigned shock, her mouth agape, "Me? Butter you up? I'm a journalist, Agnes; we deal in truths, not flattery."
Laughter rippled through the crowd at the right moment. "How's the journalism gig treating you?" Agnes patted her hand warmly and said, "If it ever gets too much, just let me know. I could always use someone like you in my company."
Regina shook her head with a smile. "I'm having the time of my life, really. I've missed you, though. My mom left some fine wine, and I know you enjoy a good glass. Shall I bring a bottle for you when I leave?"
Agnes waved her off. "I'm not a child craving for a sip of wine. Besides, those are keepsakes your mother left for you. Keep them safe. When the day comes for you to wed, you can take them with you. No one else should touch them, understand?"
This time, Regina hugged Agnes with genuine affection, knowing well the value of the treasures her mother had saved for her.
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