Chapter 65
Chapter 65
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 65
Chapter Title: First Night in Mayfair
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"Well, it's possible not to know a little."
"The driver sent from Mayfair should be arriving soon."
"Oh, really? They're sending a car too?"
I'd been wondering how we'd get there, but hearing they'd send a car made me feel kinda special. Like I've totally become a celebrity! And honestly, I am a bit famous. I'm an Instagram influencer, after all!
"Heathrow's outskirts don't have many good spots for a meal. They'll help us grab something proper after we get moving."
"What's 'outskirts' mean?"
"It means outside the city."
"Aha."
Come to think of it, I'd been so excited on the plane that I'd forgotten how hungry I was. Immigration and all that had me super tense.
I figured we'd eat in the airport, but before I knew it, we were outside. So we decided to wait for the Royal Mayfair driver.
It wasn't a long wait—I was just wandering around looking at stuff when he showed up right away.
— Screeech...
"Ophelia?"
"Yes. You're Eleanor Hayes, correct?"
"Yep, that's me. Looks like you found us okay. So this little miss beside you is..."
A tall blonde woman in sunglasses, even though it wasn't that dark, clicking her heels sharply. The pom-pom on my head translated in real-time, so I could follow along.
"H-Hi! I'm Eve."
"Nice to meet you, Eve. You're even cuter in person. Call me Eleanor Hayes. If you need any help getting around England for the week, just give me a shout."
"G-Got it!"
"Any favorite foods? We can get anything in central London."
"Um... I just want something tasty. What about you, Ophelia?"
"Whatever Her Highness desires."
"Something tasty... there's so much. You're not vegan, right? Oh yeah, you said you ate macarons."
"Ah, yes! I like meat."
This sister... Hayes? Eleanor? Probably Eleanor is the first name. Anyway, she must be a fan of mine. Feels like she's read every post on my Insta.
"Good thing—British meat is delicious. Don't want to overdo it on day one, and we need to watch our figures, so I'll take you somewhere light."
Eleanor's posh London upper-class vibe came through even over the translator. Not Ophelia's strict royal demeanor—more relaxed and soft. Not that Ophelia's bad; they're just different.
About 20 minutes into the drive, I realized Eleanor was in the front right seat. Right-side steering wheel... it felt so weird, kept staring at it.
British cars have the wheel on the right << People who haven't been to the UK don't know
How's she so smart lol
(Crown-wearing mint twintails con)
"Hungry, little miss? It might take a bit."
"N-No! I'm fine!"
"Your Highness, feel free to speak freely."
"I can hold out, really. I ate bread earlier."
About 40 minutes later? We left the London suburbs (new word learned) and headed to Mayfair. Following Eleanor's lead, we entered a restaurant that screamed classy. No chandeliers like in those fancy places, which actually made it feel more comfy.
Won't they kick me out for wearing a white long puffer? Like, I need a dress to even pass, right?
"Reservation?"
"Under Eleanor Hayes."
"Right this way."
We moved quietly, but my puffer was all swishy-swishy. Felt awkward, so I tiptoed. At the table, they asked for drinks— no cola, just still or sparkling water. I went with plain.
"Menu... Roast chicken's the safest. Sound good?"
"Ooh, chicken. Yes please."
"Then... braised beef for me. Ophelia?"
"White fish, pan-seared, please."
"Excellent choice."
Ophelia ordered like a total pro: "This that way, out you go." Total expert vibe.
We waited 15 minutes for food, chatting business with Eleanor and Ophelia the whole time. They clicked great, total back-and-forth pros.
"I see. So you're a Hunter too, little miss?"
"Y-Yes! A-rank...!"
"Oh my, that's high. You'll protect me if things get dicey?"
"I-I'll try...!"
Technically my golems fight, but whatever. As long as I command well.
Food arrived: my roast chicken, Eleanor's beef, Ophelia's white fish. No clue what fish, but it was white.
"Eat up, make yourselves at home."
You know Western table manners? Fork wrong and you're out, eat out of order, chef beats you with a pan. Nah, all lies—just eat.
— Glance
Still, no hand-chomping chicken legs. I sliced away with fork and knife, then locked eyes with the elderly couple next to us.
— Nod nod
— Smile
"E-Ehehe...?"
Dunno why, but grandpa nodded approval, grandma smiled warmly.
"C-Claridges..."
"Claridge's."
"Ah."
Damn alphabet. Make me pronounce it as written? Wanna get scolded??
"Room 517. Shall I escort you?"
"We're good."
"Alright. No plans today. I'll swing by around 11 tomorrow—not too early?"
"Your Highness, is that alright?"
"Yeah! Fine by me."
11's a chill wake-up. I've been sleeping and rising early lately. Used to sleep till noon, now up at 9.
Eleanor handed over the keycard for our reserved room after checking it, passing it to Ophelia. Hotel lobby carpet muffled everything—super quiet.
She left, but a concierge showed us to 517. We entered together.
"Whoaaa."
Insanely luxurious room. Felt like I was a British princess—Western-style rooms give that vibe.
After eating, we'd grabbed our bags from the car and unpacked slowly. Inside: slimmed-down bath stuff from home, comfy sleepwear.
"Wh-Why'd you pack this...?"
"Just in case."
No idea what "case," but even the princess dress was in the suitcase. Wearing it in the UK... might not be embarrassing?
Still, no urge to.
"Tired, Your Highness?"
"Nah... still good."
"Shall we take a short walk?"
"Sure! Heehee."
Almost 6 PM now. Sun setting, streets turning gorgeous. Cities shine at night—wanted to see London proper.
— Beep!
"What, pom-pom coming too?"
— Beep beep!!
"Okay! But pickpocket once and you're done?"
— B-Beep...!!
Pom-pom nodded solemnly, but Mayfair's upscale—no pickpockets. Ophelia changed to maid outfit, I went lighter.
Not super cold, but crisp air—coat, scarf, gloves. Long puffer too Korean-feeling.
"So prettyyy..."
— Beep..!
"Pom-pom, how much is this? What's 4 pounds?"
— Beep!
"Gasp, pricey. That's 500 Robux."
London streets were stunning. Mayfair's old-world charm, plus winter night magic.
"What was that again? Benten? Where's that?"
"Big Ben, Your Highness?"
"Ah, Big Ben. Benten's a manga."
"Sadly, it's hard to see from here. About 25 minutes' walk. Interested?"
"Mm... farther than I thought."
Fair enough. Not going home tomorrow, week's stay—plenty of time.
"Haaa... nice."
Strolling slowly, sniffing street food scents.
"Oh right. Pic for Insta?"
"We'll take photos, but posting on SNS after returning home is best. Reveals location."
"Gotcha."
No Insta? Time for the gallery then.
Me << Londoner
Impressive, right?
"Your Highness."
"Yes?"
"...Never mind."