At that moment, Yuri Sinclair and his large entourage were heading inside. He seemed to possess an aura that made everything around him dim in comparison.
His expression was stern. With every turn of his wheels, the people behind him took firm, deliberate steps, their polished leather shoes CLACKING against the floor.
When his wheelchair reached the front desk, his sharp gaze swept over the two receptionists.
"Good morning, Your Highness."
"The second button below the collarbone is undone, and you're showing eight teeth when you smile. Palace Matron Sullivan, neither of these two meets the standard. Replace them!"
"Your Highness..." The two receptionists, who had been all smiles just a moment ago, looked as if they were about to burst into tears. They never imagined they would be fired over such a minor mistake in dress code and etiquette.
