Ah. I get it. We had a juggler come through a couple of times, showed off his tricks, make the people look one way while his other hand slides the bird out of the box. If that's what we want done, I think this works. I just don't see why you need to throw this one in. No. I'll see it done. Just a little sooner than I expected.

-Ferro

Jess tries for hours to get me enthused about the night, and I have to admit that she accomplishes her mission. My weariness at the world can only last so long in the face of her unabashed excitement for the night's events. What really helps warm me to the idea is her call for a bottle of the incredibly potent wine the elven nobility enjoys and her introducing me to the cosmetics in the manor. My lesson learned from the last time I experimented with the wine, I keep myself to a single sip every few hours. No reason to tempt another social complication that ends with one party eating dirt.

We talk, tongues loosened by inebriation, a maid pulling and tugging on my hair while Jess paints my face. I've used them before, cosmetics that is, but I have never seen anything quite as expensive and effective as what the ladies in Danfalla use. I have to stop her after an hour, cleansing my face of the powders and paints with a rag and applied elbow grease. For someone whom I have never caught using them before, Jess is quite good with the brushes, but she keeps trying to make me look elven. It just doesn't work with my face.

Around eight, well after the sun has fallen and the stars begin to peek out between the gray clouds overhead, Jess and I make our way to the foyer, leaning against one another as we descend the stairs. The boys are there, waiting with a woman I don't recognize. The way Jor'Mari smiles as his eyes land on me sets my heart fluttering. Then again, that could just be the wine. Perhaps I had another sip.

"Stunning," Dovik says, delicately taking Jess' hand as she makes it to the marble landing, locking it with his own. "Though I never had any doubts."

"Did you swallow your tongue?" I ask, putting my hand into Jor's outstretched one, letting him tenderly kiss it.

"I was trying to compose something adequate in my head," he says, standing and smiling down at me. "The one thing that came to mind wouldn't be suitable for polite company."

"You will have to tell me later," I say.

"You can count on it." Then, he turns, gesturing to the woman next to him. "This is my older sister, Yul'Mari. She is to be our chaperone for the festivities this evening."

Yul smiles sweetly. The woman has the same kind of undeniable beauty that every true-blooded elven noble possesses, a body free of blemish, seemingly cast out of stone. Where she differs from all of the others is that this woman looks as if she has walked in the sun, her skin lightly tanned, her naked arms demonstrating toned muscle. Her hair shines like brass waves, stacked and falling over the left side of her head, and her dark eyes reflect the light like a silver mirror. Despite the extraordinary silk wrapings about her, following in the latest fashion, nothing about the woman screams of the waifish life that I intuit about other elven noblewomen.

"I wouldn't think of me that way," Yul'Mari says, stepping in and squeezing me in an embrace before I know what is happening. She releases me, but there is a moment in her touch where she makes it clear that she is much, much stronger than I am. "I doubt Jor would listen to me anyway. Think of me more as a guide to the party. I am told that you have never been to an occasion like this."

"No," Jess answers for the both of us. "But we are rather excited to see how you celebrate in the northern district."

"The same as anywhere else, I imagine," Yul'Mari says, greeting Jess with a hug as well, though I notice it lacks the same intensity. "Just with better food. Lacking a gentleman myself for the night, I will content myself with helping you navigate the dangerous waters of elven nobility, not that I feel the need to. Look at you both, pretty as plums. Mainly, I will be here to stop my little brother from starting any more feuds with the branch families."

"If you are talking about what happened with Priscilla, that was my fault," I say.

Yul smiles at me, shaking her head. "No dear, no matter how much we dislike that girl, and we do, the responsibility falls on him." She claps her hands. "But let us forget that. I believe the party started an hour or two ago, now might be the best time to make it over, unless there was more celebration to be had here first."

None of us is willing to put up a fight, the woman turns and makes her way to the door, the heels of her shoes clicking against the marble floors. The four of us are pulled along by the force of her wake, compelled to follow her as she opens the front doors of the manor and sighs in the cool evening air.

Before we make it ten feet from the door, Yul, just ahead of us and speaking with a coachman, I notice that Dovik and Jess have dropped behind a few paces to speak in hushed tones. I am just about to try and eavesdrop when I feel Jor'Mari slip his arm into mine, the warmth of his breath tickling my neck.

"You look beautiful tonight," he says.

"Thank you for that. You don't look half bad yourself." I'm not certain what I should have expected, but I didn't think that I would come downstairs to find Jor standing in what looks to be a military uniform. The cut is just like his brother Fas's, almost identical to what he wore when all of the adventurers gathered in the hall some weeks ago. It is a little strange to find him out of his robes, but the suit does a lot for him.

"Is this dress new?" he asks, rubbing a bit of the green silk between his fingers. "It suits you perfectly. Attracts my eyes to the right places."

I smack his hand away, unable to avoid sharing his smirk. No doubt anyone who wanted to could hear us, but there is something in his brazen flirtation that I find infectious. "You've seen me wear it before."

"Oh? Maybe I find it hard to focus on your clothes."

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"Except, you just complimented the dress, very specifically."

He shrugs. "I'm mysterious like that."

"It's not good," Yul'Mari says loudly from beside the coach. "Jallis Road is closed tonight, construction or some such."

Jor sighs. "It will take twice as long to go around the long way."

"I know," his sister says. "We can do that, or we can walk it ourselves. Thoughts?"

"No reason not to enjoy the night air," I say. "It's fairly cool tonight."

"I'm never one to say no to a little exploring," Jess says. "Besides, the streets here are practically deserted, it will be like having the whole city to ourselves."

"Is that romantic in some way I'm not seeing?" Dovik asks her.

"Many of those in the district packed up their things and left before the duchy could be closed. Troubles in the lower districts have pulled the guard's focus there. I'm not sure that I like the idea of three ladies walking the streets at night," Jor'Mari says.

"You don't think that we can handle some common thugs? Besides, we have two strong and honorable men to keep us safe." He has nothing he can say to my obvious flattery and concedes the point.

Walking through the northern district of Danfalla is far different from what I have experienced trying to maneuver through the lower parts of the city. It is just as Jess said, we barely pass anyone on the trip over. The first people we encounter are three men sitting beside what looks to be a worksite. I hardly spare them a moment's notice, too busy following Jor's pointing finger, guessing at the purpose of the objects hidden by a massive canvas tarp that dominates the front facade of a tall building. All we can tell is that there seem to be poles, dozens of them, hidden under the tarp, making the whole thing look like a half-collapsed tent. Jor thinks that it must be the basis of some scaffolding, and I find that hard to disagree with. The only mystery is why bother hiding it? It isn't as if rain is likely.

The rest of the walk through the streets gives me a proper moment to clear my head. The sip I sneak while our chaperone is distracted aids that endeavor as well. We hear the party before we turn onto the street, the low rumble of a hundred conversations, the discordant clinking of crystal disrupting a muted string melody. A deluge of light spills out of the front windows of the manor we approach, its color gradually changing between pink and green, then back again.

At my question about the stark choice of lighting, Yul rolls her eyes, making a motion for the doorman to let us in. Her exasperation seems pointed at the owner of the house rather than me. The sound of conversation seems almost to die as we cross the threshold, leaving a facade of white stone and pink trimming behind. Inside the ever-present pink light of the parlor that we step into, my ability to see magic warps, the clash of colors making it difficult to distinguish, but I taste a cold edge at the back of my throat as we enter. The note is complex, some working of enchantment, and it is not difficult to discover its effect. Inside the manor, despite mouths flapping everywhere, I can't hear anybody if they stand more than five feet away from me. Only the sound of the musical quartet standing on a short stage in an expansive ballroom can be heard, the music lovely, sophisticated, and of the same tender volume, no matter where we move.

"Gaolin loves to show off the enchantments they set into this home," Yul confides, leading us into the ballroom proper. She points out the host of the celebration, Gaolin Des'fadel, a thin elven woman whose dress changes in counterpoint color to the ever-shifting light. I can't help but notice that in the pink light, her dress shines as a brilliant emerald, where mine simply looks brown. "The rumor is that she has a lover across the ocean who procures such devices for her. Difficult to find such an advanced enchantment in the empire."

"Is it?" I ask.

Yul smiles at that. "The first thing will be introductions. Time to be shown around. Are you ladies thirsty?"

"What are they serving?" Jess asks.

"That is for the gentlemen to discover," Yul'Mari says, snapping her fingers and making a shooing motion.

"It appears we are being dismissed," Jor says to me. "I'll see if I can find any more of that wine. You must be parched."

"Incredibly so," I reply.

"Wait for us here then," he says, slipping away with Dovik toward the bar attached to the right side of the ballroom, walking straight through the center of the room where a good twenty people dance.

Yul shakes her head at her brother's back. "We most certainly will not be waiting," she says, taking Jess' hand in her own. "Come now, we have ladies to meet."

The introductions are a whirlwind of names and faces. Every interaction is so strange. Yul takes us to one group after another, their voices seeming to suddenly pop into volume as we approach. The duke's daughter displays little subtlety, stepping right into the middle of a conversation, showing off Jess and me, presenting us as "professional women." Oddly, she only bothers to make our introductions to the women, not even sparing the men a glance as she shows us off, helping to field the questions and remarks that inevitably follow.

It isn't until Dovik and Jor'Mari return, each carrying a flute of bubbling liquid that might as well be water for how strong it is, that I begin to pick up on the game at play. Jor speaks with the men, slapping hands and shoulders, introducing me as his companion, again with the term "professional woman." While Yul chats away with the ladies, Jor ignores them entirely, speaking with the men of each group we travel through, both acting as my escorting voices to the different sexes. The separation is obvious; in fact, the only men and women I see speaking to each other are obviously couples or close friends. Why it is this way here, I have no idea, and I am frankly too afraid to ask.

The names and faces pass by in a blur. For a moment, I fear that I might have forgotten everyone I've been introduced to in the last hour. Responding to my flash of panic, Galea appears in the air at my side, a window held in her claws displaying every person I have met, the fey spirit even having gone as far as to add relations and associations. I wonder if I will ever stop being surprised at how useful the spirit is.

The strangest part of each interaction is the compliments. Every introduction seems to come with an exchange of compliments–a good practice, I wager, until a theme begins to show. Every time I am shown off to a new cluster of party-goers, the first person always compliments my eyes, usually calling them enchanting. Then, if there is a man in the group, they will ask if I am the same magician they heard about getting into a brawl with Priscilla Cla'Mari. While I recount the story, something I become quite adept at as the night goes on, I catch the women sneaking glances at my ears, while the men usually try to sneak glances at my cleavage. That isn't anything new, really, neither the elven women checking for elvish heritage by staring at my ears nor men trying to look down my dress. It is the predictability of it that begins to wear on me.

Through it all, I keep my best smile on my face for Jor's sake. The comment Yul made earlier keeps ringing in my head, that what happened with Priscilla was his responsibility. There was a falling out, and after making a whole circuit of the ballroom and being introduced to almost everyone, Priscilla's side of the family is absent. Despite that, he stays close to me, he rests his hand on my waist as he leads me about the room, he introduces me to everyone, making it clear that we are together without outright stating it. Despite what the baron's wife said, he has changed his tune, and I can't cause him any more grief.

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