Chapter 47 - The Protocol Chief
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Monsieur Dupont arrived at the St. Moritz precisely at ten o'clock the next morning. He was a man composed entirely of sharp angles, from the cut of his bespoke Parisian suit to the severe line of his jaw. He walked into the lobby with a critical eye, followed by two silent security attachés.
Sienna met him at the center of the marble floor, standing tall over the golden "SM" crest.
"Welcome to the St. Moritz, Monsieur Dupont," Sienna greeted, extending her hand.
Dupont accepted the handshake briefly, his grip firm and dismissive.
"Ms. Vance," Dupont replied, his accent thick and commanding. "I must be frank. Her Serene Highness has very exacting standards. We usually reside at Vanguard properties due to their predictable corporate infrastructure. We are taking a considerable risk on an independent boutique hotel."
"I assure you, Monsieur Dupont, there is nothing predictable about the St. Moritz," Sienna smiled warmly, refusing to let his haughty demeanor ruffle her. "We pride ourselves on anticipating our guests' needs before they even articulate them."
"We shall see," Dupont sniffed, pulling a thick leather-bound dossier from his briefcase. "I have a list of seventy-two mandatory protocols. We require the complete removal of all current floral arrangements on the royal floors, to be replaced exclusively with white Casablanca lilies flown in from Ecuador. Furthermore, the kitchen must be cleared of all local seafood; the Prince only consumes fish sourced from the Mediterranean."
Sienna took the dossier, her expression remaining perfectly pleasant, though her mind immediately flagged the demands as a direct conflict with their new ethos.
"We would be honored to accommodate the royal family's preferences for privacy and security," Sienna said smoothly. "However, I must respectfully decline the request regarding the kitchen and the floral arrangements."
Dupont stopped walking, turning to stare at her in sheer disbelief.
"You are refusing a directive from the royal house?" he demanded, his voice rising.
"I am protecting the integrity of the experience you are paying for," Sienna corrected gently. "Our flowers are cultivated by a local cooperative, and our seafood is caught daily by independent fishermen. It is the lifeblood of our quality. If His Highness wishes to taste the Mediterranean, he should remain in Monaco. If he wishes to experience the absolute pinnacle of American culinary hospitality, he must trust my chef."
Dupont glared at her, completely unaccustomed to being told no.
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"I will have to report this to Her Serene Highness," he warned.
"Please do," Sienna smiled. "And tell her we eagerly await her arrival."
