“This isn’t a film festival red carpet—you’re walking too slow,” Lynch quietly reminded her as they entered the gala. “People won’t praise you in magazines for taking your time. They’ll just mock you.”

Penny lowered her head, visibly sulking, but didn’t dare argue. “Got it. I’ll walk faster next time.”

As they stepped into the venue, the President and First Lady approached them.

“I’m glad you could come, Lynch,” the President said warmly, then gestured to the woman beside him. “This is Barbara.”

The First Lady looked slightly older than the President—common among Federation women. When men and women of the same age stood together, men often appeared younger, and women older.

Her sagging skin had brought some wrinkles to her face, but she still looked kind and gentle.

“Hello, Lynch. He always talks about you,” Barbara said, reaching out to shake Lynch’s hand. According to social etiquette, she didn’t have to—but this gesture challenged traditional norms that feminists often criticize as signs of male-dominated society.

Still, Barbara was not just the President’s plus-one—she was the host of the gala, and that role deserved respect.

“I’m still young, and I make my fair share of mistakes. I hope he doesn’t get too many headaches when he talks about me,” Lynch replied humbly.

The President laughed heartily and patted Lynch on the arm. “You’re a likable young man. You don’t give me headaches.”

Of course, someone who handed over money that easily wouldn’t give him any headaches.

The First Lady then extended her hand to Penny, who looked nervous and unsure. “Hello, young lady. I think I’ve seen you before?”

Penny stared at her blankly, saying nothing.

She was stunned—this was the First Lady, the most distinguished woman in the nation. And she had extended her hand first.

Penny’s mind went blank. She didn’t even realize she should’ve responded instead of standing there frozen.

Thankfully, Lynch stepped in smoothly. “She’s an actress—she’s been in a few films.” His timely response saved her from a major faux pas.

Penny snapped out of it, face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I… I got too excited. You and the President are my idols. I don’t even know how to express how honored I am!”

Flattery, especially from a young and beautiful woman, rarely offends. People tend to be more forgiving toward them.

The First Lady smiled and shook her hand. “I was like that when I was younger too—tongue-tied in front of famous people. You’ll get used to it.”

As the next couple finished walking the red carpet, Lynch politely excused himself and Penny.

Once they left the President and First Lady, an attendant came to greet them and guide them to their seats.

“Your seats are in the third row. Please follow me.”

Every seat had a name tag on the back. Seating was limited. Even if someone stole an invitation, they wouldn’t find a place to sit.

Everyone invited to this charity gala by the President and First Lady was a public figure—prominent and well-known.

Stealing someone’s invite would be useless. And yet, every time an event like this was held, people would try everything to sneak in—because the guests were that influential.

For nobodies, making a single connection here could change everything.

After being seated, Penny could hardly contain her excitement. She tried to stay composed, but her nerves wouldn’t stop buzzing—her eyes kept widening in amazement.

Most guests were way beyond her league. As a star, Penny held status among the middle and lower classes. But among the true elite, actors and singers were no different from regular people.

One phone call and their bosses would drag them—stars and all—to any event, to flatter and entertain. These people were not part of high society. They were just performers. Attractive ornaments.

It was that sharp contrast in status that made Penny so shocked.

“Did we just talk to the President and First Lady?”

She seemed to only now realize it, her voice full of disbelief and regret. “Did I screw it up? Damn it, you should’ve warned me!”

“That was the President and First Lady! Even our boss—hell, our boss’s boss—hasn’t met them, let alone shaken their hands!”

Lynch gave her a sideways glance. “I told you—we’re attending a charity gala hosted by the First Lady.”

Penny raised her chin in protest. “I thought you just somehow got your hands on an invite. You never said they personally invited you!”

She didn’t think it was her fault. With help from her agent, she’d snuck into plenty of events like this before.

She never expected to actually sit down at those events—just walking the red carpet and getting a headline like Famous Actress Appears at So-and-So Gala was good enough.

Attending as a guest and being personally invited were worlds apart.

Penny always knew Lynch was impressive—but not this impressive. She had clearly underestimated him.

Lynch didn’t seem to care. “I don’t just know the President and First Lady. I’ve been to their house as a guest. I also know the Emperor of Gephra—and I even slept with his sister.”

Penny’s jaw dropped. A sly smile crept onto her face as she suddenly thought of something. “So… does that mean I’m on the same level as a princess?”

Lynch looked at her, momentarily stunned.

She explained, “You slept with the princess—and you’ve slept with me. So, does that make me…”

Lynch flicked her forehead. “What are you even thinking? Sit still.”

But of course, Penny couldn’t sit still. While she didn’t do anything improper, she kept whispering excitedly in Lynch’s ear whenever a new guest arrived.

She recognized almost all of them—and could even list their achievements. In fact, she knew more about them than Lynch did.

When Mr. Wadrick arrived at the venue with Severella, Penny couldn’t help but sigh. “You know, every girl in the Federation envies Severella the most.”

“Besides having a great father, she runs her own fashion brand, which is hugely popular among young girls. She also writes books—one is even being adapted into a movie.”

“She excels at everything. Everyone wants to be her.”

Her tone was thick with undisguised envy and jealousy. To Penny, Severella was the pinnacle.

After saying that, she fell silent, suddenly realizing that among all the female companions at the event, her own status seemed to be the lowest.

For someone who was materialistic but also carried some pride, this was a heavy blow.

Outside of this place, she was often the center of attention, a frequent topic of conversation. But here, most people probably hadn’t even heard her name.

She now truly understood how it felt to be a background extra at an event.

Next came Mr. Aginel and his daughter, Anna. Penny didn’t even want to speak anymore—yet another princess.

In the Federation, there might not be official titles like princess, but girls like Severella and Anna were regarded as such by the public.

It was suddenly quite demoralizing.

Soon after, the two young members of the Duncan family also arrived. The most important guests were now all present.

Mr. Geruno didn’t attend in person. At his level, unless the President publicly extended a personal invitation, he wouldn’t show up at events like this.

And given that this gala was hosted by the First Lady Barbara, he was even less likely to appear—attending would almost feel beneath him.

It might seem absurd, but to a capitalist of his stature, an invitation from the First Lady simply wasn’t prestigious enough.

When someone controls a significant portion of the nation’s wealth, even the President becomes a replaceable figure in their eyes.

The President himself wasn’t upset about Mr. Geruno’s absence. He didn’t see it as a problem at all.

With everyone present, the charity gala officially began.

The First Lady opened by explaining the reason for the event, projecting a powerful, emotional image onto a large screen.

The elegantly dressed men and women in attendance all reacted with pity, sorrow, or gasps of sympathy.

They completely forgot that just one of their accessories could save dozens, even hundreds or thousands of children like the one in the photo.

To know when to feel sad—and only then—is the mark of someone who has learned how to act human.