The Grand Ball (IC: Please Sign up in OOC thread first)

[Ganos Lao]

Rosa

"Thank you for the greeting, Your Majesty. How are things with the imperial family, as it happens? You know, of course, that Ray and I have begun working on our family. He is now Marquis of FitzRaymond as well, a title that gives him an estate back in Free Garza, albeit a small one because most land has been turned over to the peasants since land reform," Rosa explained, hoping that Quinn wouldn't have any objections to their union, of course.

Quinn maintained her smile in Rosa's presence. She was always very happy to talk about her family. "Well, my family has been doing quite well. We're planning to have a family reunion soon. All the members of my family, immediate and extended, will converge on the Imperial Court for some food, fun and games. Sometimes I lose count over how many princes and princesses the Empire has. My husband and kids are all doing good also; excelling at their studies, helping me deal with any issues with Parliament or foreign policy, I can't complain about anything in my life. I'm glad to hear you and Ray are working on your own family too. I hope you two will have healthy and prosperous children; believe me, nothing's as great as holding your child in your arms when they're born."

Ray shrugged. "I don't mind the size of my estate. I could be homeless, but I'd be happy if I was living my life with you, Rosa. I think the peasants ought to be able to own their land. I think they ought to be able to prosper like we nobles do. They shouldn't feel like slaves like they're on some Parthian plantation. Of course, that's not the case in Garza, but I'm sure you know what I mean."

Quinn looked over to Rosa. "So, Rosa, tell me about yourself. Do you have any hobbies? I like to deal in fashion and fashion accessories. If you ever need something designed or renovated, I'm more than happy to help. Perhaps someday you could visit my country. I just know you and Ray would enjoy riding together; sometimes there's nothing as peaceful and serene as a quaint ride through the country, enjoying the company of friends. Sometimes even my sister will join us. She's somewhere around this ballroom, if you can find her; in advance, please forgive me if she acts up or anything like that. She's....rather opinionated, to say the least."

---

In the distance, Allison could be seen idly chatting with Ksenya, laughing as the latter regaled her with some story. The two were oftentimes deemed inseperable, to the point that rumors were floating around Imperial society that there was more to this friendship than once thought, but no one dared to bring it up to either woman's face, as if fearing some sort of backlash. Even Quinn didn't speak of it much, but then again, she'd rather not deal much with her sister at all, fearing she'd say something catty and bring down her latest plan. If only she'd be more like her secretary, then perhaps the Nalayans and Edomites would've still been friendly....

[Ghant]

Alazne

Alazne Dain went out to the floor and began to dance with Consul Tamboro. He is a funny man and very charming, Alazne thought.

"The honor is all mine, Lady Dain…So, ma'am, what was all that discussion with your friends? Did you volunteer to get stuck with me, or were you volunteered?"

Alazne shrugged slightly…everything she did was delicate and polite. “What most noble girls our age talk about.” Alazne answered in her soft, melodic voice. “We talk about fashion, about our dresses and our hair…and about boys, naturally. The ones we like and don’t like, and for what reasons,” she chuckled. “I volunteered, because my second cousin Sophia speaks highly of you, and your position in Dakar is one most honorable. You are, from what I have gathered, a man worthy of both admiration and respect.” Alazne smiled.

Allaria and Rebecca

John introduced his friend to the Vyrsarians. "Hey Rebecca. This is Madaleine, Mathias, Rebekka, and...Alena from the Vyrsarian delegation. It's nice to see you, but I was actually about to go dance"

Rebecca nodded, and did a curtsey. “Well met, Madaleine, Mathias, Rebekka and Alena!” Rebecca smiled, and then addressed the women. “You all look very pretty, and I love your dresses and your hair!”

Then she turned back to John. “No worries, John. I just thought I would come over and see if you wanted to dance with me, but I can wait. And when you get around to it, I have some friends I want to introduce you too.” Rebecca turned around and waved her hands at the other Ghantish girls. Princess Alexia, Nathan’s half-sister, lingered her eyes on John, as did Jane Mutu, as Rebecca shooed them away.

Damnit Rebecca…why do you have to be so nice? Allaria thought. Princess Rebecca was a very charming, intelligent and pretty girl, but she never used that to her advantage. Rebecca was a pushover, not unlike her aunt Rosalina.

Allaria decided to stay put and hold Matthew close, as she didn’t trust Vyrsarians alone with him. Fucking bitches, this one is mine!

Albert and Stephen

“When are you going to start dancing?” Prince Stephen prodded his older brother.

“As soon as a Gavinian stops wanting to fuck his sister.” Albert responded.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “Well, Isabel is here. How long has it been since either of us have seen her?”

“…Quite some time. I hear she is some kind of a whore though…there is usually one every generation.” Albert answered dryly.

“…Are you referring to our niece, Arietta? She isn’t that bad.” Stephen teased.

Albert was unamused. “The girl is too much like her mother. Nothing but trouble and a liability to the Imperial House. She should have been dealt with a long time ago.”

“Seriously, brother, pull that stick out of your ass and go dance with Izzy. Just like when we were children. Might do you some good.”

Albert grinded his teeth for a moment. “Alright…I will seek her out. But she better not remind me that one time when we were kids and…”

Stephen laughed. “When you got a tick on your dick, and father burned it off with a lighter?”

Albert shot his younger brother a cold glare, before turning and walking out in search of his cousin Isabel of Garza.

[Free Garza]

Rosa

"I agree, of course, Ray. That is one of the few good things that came of the Revolution, despite the evils of it. Land reform, I mean. The peasants can actually eat the cattle or sheep that they raise. It's a much improved standard. As for my hobbies, they include theater, opera, music, riding, and tennis. Not to mention discussing the history of my family and my country. I know genealogy like the back of my hand, Your Majesty.

"I would love to visit Ganosia soon. Ray and I have considered that, along with Garza, New Olwe, and some other places for a second honeymoon, though our first wasn't bad, either," Rosa winked at Ray on that point.

"Still trying for a child, but I am not ready to give up. I am only 22, still have plenty of years in which to keep trying. I want to raise children and grow old with Ray, to be mother of his children in particular. Why? Because he is the only man for me. I love him totally and faithfully, without any thought of other men at all. When we met, I knew instantly that this was the man for me.

"I would love to meet your sister as well. How many sisters do you have, Imperial Majesty?" Rosa asked the Empress.

[Hittanryan]

Holly

"I'm sorry!" Holly said, suddenly apologizing to Carlita. "I didn't mean it like..." but she trailed off. She then saw the Garzan was a little off-kilter, and suddenly she realized 'Oh...she's drunk!' Holly actually breathed a sigh of relief. They were then approached by a military-looking guy who seemed to take the heat off and quickly, seeing how Garza's former President immediately planted one on the marine. While the man was distracted, she discreetly looked him up and down. Not bad.

Despite her advances, Holly had seen, and likely wore, that look before many times at university. The other woman looked like might be sick. Ignoring her solicitation, as Carlita stumbled off Holly asked "Oh, are you all right? You should drink some water, ma'am! It was...um, nice to meet you!"

Turning to the major, Holly just shrugged and smiled brightly. She had already relaxed, it was just a funny story to tell later. "Whew, somebody's had a good night! Maybe she's got the right idea! I'm Holly," she said, extending her hand. That's when she noticed the music had just changed. "Ooh! I love this song..."

[Ossoria]

Tara hadn't heard the announcement, and so the old man's greeting caught her somewhat by surprise. Even so, she smiled once she saw who the voice belonged to.

"It's good to see you again, Uncle," she said giving him a hug. "Esteri, if you could..." she began, until she saw Dame Rinne pulling up a chair for Henry. "Thanks, Esteri."

"So, Uncle," she said turning back to her elderly relative, and one of the few natives of Ghant that she actually liked, "What brings you all they way out here?"

At this point, she noticed another woman approaching, who soon introduced herself as Ursula Weiler-Kotuk. "Well met, Premier. How do you do?"

[Free Garza]

King Diego IV

"Grandmother, Rosa is a happily married woman. The deed is done. She wasn't expecting the monarchy to be restored so fast, and frankly neither was I. That it was proved that the people never really wanted the Republic at all, much to the surprise of the then President, who is now in this very ballroom. Anyway, she is happy with him and he brings a lot of power to this match, the power of Ganosia and its many imperial territories. Quinn of Ganosia is a useful friend to have on the international stage, trust me. Same with her sister, Allison Amber, the Chancellor Princess. Ray is their nephew, you know. So I have accept this match and I hope that you will come to see why it was a great idea.

"As for the rest, well, Izzy is Izzy. She is my favorite aunt and would be if I had twenty aunts. She does her own thing as always. She has your stubborn streak and passion, if you will. You know that just as I do. I have to admire that in her, despite how frustrating it can be and very contrary to my own faith. She has grit, courage, cojones, if you dare say that about a woman. Plus, you know as well as I do what she's had to overcome in her life. I'm just glad that she's happy.

"Maria is where she wants to be. She is pleased with herself and has found what she needs...and what the country wants, what it needs. She will be Queen of Dakmoor. I am sure of that. She is already a Her Royal Highness again and the only obstacle to her being reinstated in the succession is the prospect of a personal union with Dakmoor. Oh, and she is pregnant, but don't tell Martin yet. She wants to surprise him.

"Blanca is with child as well. You have great-grandchildren on the way! She is quite pleased to be the wife of the Boy General, the most powerful man in New Edom. Try and tell me that match didn't turn out okay, Grandmother? See, there is no cause for worry. We're all doing fine. Still, we are pleased that you care. How are you, Grandmother?" Diego reassured her with a gentle, friendly, calming tone of voice.

In spite of his grandmother's foibles, she was still his grandmother and he still loved her for what she was.

[Free Garza]

"Can you keep a secret?" Maria asked.

She leaned in closer and whispered, "I'm pregnant to Martin! He's going to be a father!"

"See how things are going for us, future brother-in-law? Very well, in fact. Just as Grandmother wished it. She had that one nailed on the head. Wonderful mother, my grandmother. Sweet, kind, and wise. Pretty, too. Probably still has some men courting her, even at her age.

"How are things between you and the lovely Queen of New Edom? She seems happier than ever. Not so much lost and lonely as before. If you can do that for her, she'll love you forever, just give it time," Maria assured Michael.

[Shalum]

Major Jean-Paul Valliancourt and Holly

For a moment, things were a blur for the Shalumite major. One minute he was saying hello, and the next soft lips were being pressed against his own. Out of simple shock, he didn't reciprocate, and lacked the time to do so before the Garzan looking woman pulled back; looking a bit sick a moment later. He knew that look, he'd seen in on many a marine before when they visited cities where drinking was allowed. Often, soldiers who were only allowed to drink so often, actually over did it at the bars, trying to get in as much as they could while the option was available.

As he sipped his wine, to wash the taste of the Garzan woman and foreign liquor of his tongue, he took a moment to admire Holly. She wasn't bad by any means, definitely a looker. In truth, he had been told that he was easy on the eyes over the years. He was solidly built, at six-foot-even with a light complexion, brown hair with was kept short, and green eyes with had a predatory intelligence behind them. His looks had gotten him a number of companions over the years, and at times, he barely had to do any work. His reputation in bed proceeded him in some smaller groups in Shalum.

He titled his head to look back at Holly, smiling when she smiled, mirroring her own expression. He was a warm individual, and he did have a bit of wine flowing through him. He was a bit better at cutting loose then some military men he had met. "Appears so, nice to see in truth. Feel free to call me Jean or Paul, Holly" he offered with a chuckle. He found the name odd, and even confusing at times, as did others. He listened to the music and grinned, gently taking her hand. He placed a kiss to it, common in Shalum anyway for this type of event. "Is that so? Would an exquisite woman like you do me the honor of dancing with me then?" he asked as he held his warm expression.

[New Othman]

Ursula smiled and curtsied to the High Queen before introducing herself also to Henry.

"Apologies for cutting in. Pleased to meet you as well, Highness. I am Premier Ursula Weiler-Kotuk of New Othman. You must be His Imperial Highness, Prince Henry of Ghant. So, you are his niece, Your Royal Ossorian Majesty? Interesting how the royal families are linked. Thankfully, no such linkage in New Othman, though. The last thing that we needed was some excuse to invade us and save the Sultan.

"Anyway, when it is Your Royal Ossorian Majesty's pleasure, I would like to talk shop with you. We are both unattached women with a heavy focus on our work, I have surmised. Perhaps when we have some time alone, if that is permissible and not a gigantic presumption on my part. In the meantime, I am willing to engage in normal social discourse with Prince Henry and yourself, provided that I am not a third wheel or an inconvenience. Frankly, I dread getting asked to dance. I am just not ready for any attempt at a social life or personal one."

[Gavinium Magnus]

King Maximian II

Maximian smiled a little at that statement. So young, so feisty, and so full of assumptions that the rest of the world did not share outside of Ghant. She still had much to learn.

"Well, as it happens, I am married. I am 21 years of age and I am married. Would you believe that? My wife, Queen Lily, is an Olwean princess, formerly Grand Duchess of that country. Great woman, though not always around. Then again, we Gavinians often find sensible solutions to the absence of a spouse. A mistress or a paramour, sometimes a second wife or husband, or even a concubine or lover of the same sex. What do you do to handle that problem in Ghant?" he inquired with curiosity.

"Of course, as a King, I had no such luxury of waiting. I have to sire children and breed the next generation of royals with a suitable, compatible mate, and so I have."

Natalie

"Your Majesty does me great honor, of course. I would have to be sure that it serves the best interests of Gavinium Magnus, as determined by the government, but if they are agreeable, I have no objection. My last diplomatic posting was a disappointment, but perhaps this one will teach me much more and give my daughter a better understanding of this region. I thank you for the honor of your asking me, in any case. To be asked for by name is a signal honor indeed," Natalie would have blushed if she could.

Thankfully, her olive skin prevented that.

"So, what are Your Majesty's thoughts on the likely outcome of this match, if I might ask? Also, on the restoration of the crowns and the election of the new prime minister and his government," she added.

[Oenotria (Ancient)]

With Christina of Siritis/Christine de Vilhonneur

Noémie bowed her head, “It is good to make your acquaintance Christine de Vilhonneur, la Reine de Oenotria.” She then lifted her head and smiled a little brighter sensing the undertone in the other woman’s voice, “I am indeed from L’Ossienne madame,” She then considered the accent of the woman and her appearance more deeply before continuingm, “You do not strike me as a native of Oenotria, or am I incorrect?” She then looked briefly at Taskasaplidis, “Would you mind if I steal your wife a away for little bit your Majesty? I am here by myself and I could use a little company on the dance floor.”

Noémie then offered her arm to Christine and waited for the king’s response. “It seems like I have found myself someone rather intriguing,” thought Noémie as she stood patiently and made small talk with the queen who appeared to have a few years on her. What sort of person the king was, Noémie did not know, but that did not really matter as she continued to exude friendliness and trustworthiness with a bright smile, a sweet laugh, and the practiced grace of one who had spent years of her life behind a camera. Regardless of what the king might say, she would find a way to pull away Christine away from whatever might be troubling her, even it were only for a brief moment.

"I'm not a native of Oenotria at all" replied Christine. "In fact, I come from L'Ossienne as well. However, I haven't been there in... nearly two decades. Being the wife of a head of state is just as time-consuming as being a head of state yourself." "His Majesty is there" Taskasaplidis said, glancing at the olive-skinned, bearded man in ceremonial uniform that was conversing with his cousin the Admiral, "I am just Alexander Taskasaplidis, foreign minister of Oenotria. Yes, you can have Her Majesty for yourself, if she does not mind." "I don't mind at all, some more dancing can only do me good!"

[Ghant]

Henry

Tara seemed warm towards Henry, much to his happiness. "It's good to see you again, Uncle," she said giving him a hug. "Esteri, if you could..." she began, until she saw Dame Rinne pulling up a chair for Henry. "Thanks, Esteri."

Henry returned the hug feebly, and then he labored to take a seat in the chair that was pulled up for him. “Thank you…you are very kind.” Henry turned to Tara. “It is a great relief to see you looking well and in good spirits, your majesty.”

"So, Uncle," she said turning back to her elderly relative, and one of the few natives of Ghant that she actually liked, "What brings you all they way out here?"

Henry pondered that question. “To witness history, and to remind the world that I am not dead yet.” Henry chuckled. “Sometimes, I find it hard to believe that my brother died almost 100 years ago, fighting for my aunt Alis, and that William went and fought too, and came back…a different man. And Alaia…vanished without a trace. All that remains is me now…I tried to make up for the things that happened in the old days, but I always came up short.” Henry sighed for a moment. “I was hoping you would come as well, and sure enough you have. I wanted to see you and talk to you, before…” Henry looked around the room. “Before my time runs out.”

Henry acknowledged the other woman in their company.

"Apologies for cutting in. Pleased to meet you as well, Highness. I am Premier Ursula Weiler-Kotuk of New Othman. You must be His Imperial Highness, Prince Henry of Ghant. So, you are his niece, Your Royal Ossorian Majesty? Interesting how the royal families are linked. Thankfully, no such linkage in New Othman, though. The last thing that we needed was some excuse to invade us and save the Sultan.”

“Indeed, Tara’s great-grandfather was my first cousin. Her great-great grandmother Alis was my mother Caitria’s twin sister. I might as well be an uncle though.” Henry chuckled.

Bessandra

"Grandmother, Rosa is a happily married woman. The deed is done. She wasn't expecting the monarchy to be restored so fast, and frankly neither was I. That it was proved that the people never really wanted the Republic at all, much to the surprise of the then President, who is now in this very ballroom. Anyway, she is happy with him and he brings a lot of power to this match, the power of Ganosia and its many imperial territories. Quinn of Ganosia is a useful friend to have on the international stage, trust me. Same with her sister, Allison Amber, the Chancellor Princess. Ray is their nephew, you know. So I have accept this match and I hope that you will come to see why it was a great idea.”

Bessie shrugged. “With your grandfather out of the picture, the monarchy had to have been seen as a viable option once more,” she laughed. “As for Quinn of Ganosia, I will be the judge of her myself. Imperial territories mean about as much as nipples on breastplate in my neck of the woods…it is blood that Empires are built upon, not land grabs. A bastard’s blood is worth about as much as a morning piss. But as you say, after all, you are the King now, and I won’t spend my waning years railing against my baby Rosa and her life choices.”

"As for the rest, well, Izzy is Izzy. She is my favorite aunt and would be if I had twenty aunts. She does her own thing as always. She has your stubborn streak and passion, if you will. You know that just as I do. I have to admire that in her, despite how frustrating it can be and very contrary to my own faith. She has grit, courage, cojones, if you dare say that about a woman. Plus, you know as well as I do what she's had to overcome in her life. I'm just glad that she's happy.”

Bessie smiled. “Oh…my Isabel. She reminds me so much of me when I was young! Such a stubborn, willful girl. So very Ghantish!”

"Maria is where she wants to be. She is pleased with herself and has found what she needs...and what the country wants, what it needs. She will be Queen of Dakmoor. I am sure of that. She is already a Her Royal Highness again and the only obstacle to her being reinstated in the succession is the prospect of a personal union with Dakmoor. Oh, and she is pregnant, but don't tell Martin yet. She wants to surprise him.

Bessie gasped. “Maria is with child already? Good lord, what they say about the Dakmarans working quick is true! She better tell him tonight, before the Proposamenkatean…if Martin knows she is with his child, I doubt that he won’t seek her hand tonight. Naturally, Martin will seek you out. I hope you are prepared for that conversation.”

"Blanca is with child as well. You have great-grandchildren on the way! She is quite pleased to be the wife of the Boy General, the most powerful man in New Edom. Try and tell me that match didn't turn out okay, Grandmother? See, there is no cause for worry. We're all doing fine. Still, we are pleased that you care. How are you, Grandmother?"

Bessie had a hard time containing her excitement. “Maria, Blanca and your wife are with children? Oh my! So exciting! Rosa needs to catch up with her sisters.” Bessie smiled. “All in all, I think your sisters did well. At least of them will become a Queen, as for the other two, well yeah, it seems they are doing alright and are happy, so good for them. As for me, I am doing ok…I was in Ghant with Isabella, who is here, somewhere, probably treating with the other old folks. I was planning on going back to Garza for a time meet my first great-grandbaby.”

Michael

“Can you keep a secret?" Maria asked Michael as they danced.

“…Of course.” Michael responded, wondering what the secret was.

Maria leaned in closer and whispered, "I'm pregnant to Martin! He's going to be a father!"

Michael’s eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped. Father is going to blow a gasket. “…When do you plan on telling him? You might want to do that tonight, before the Proposamenkatean. He will propose to you if he finds out that you are carrying his child.”

"See how things are going for us, future brother-in-law? Very well, in fact. Just as Grandmother wished it. She had that one nailed on the head. Wonderful mother, my grandmother. Sweet, kind, and wise. Pretty, too. Probably still has some men courting her, even at her age…How are things between you and the lovely Queen of New Edom? She seems happier than ever. Not so much lost and lonely as before. If you can do that for her, she'll love you forever, just give it time.”

“Indeed, my grandmother Isabella and Bessie are good friends, as I am sure you are aware. She is…interesting in a good way.” Michael chuckled. “As far as Mara and I, it all happened really fast, and she hardly knows me, and vice a versa. There is still much to learn. I just want to make her happy and please her. Same as Martin wants to do with you, I would assume.”

Arietta

Maximian smiled. "Well, as it happens, I am married. I am 21 years of age and I am married. Would you believe that? My wife, Queen Lily, is an Olwean princess, formerly Grand Duchess of that country. Great woman, though not always around. Then again, we Gavinians often find sensible solutions to the absence of a spouse. A mistress or a paramour, sometimes a second wife or husband, or even a concubine or lover of the same sex. What do you do to handle that problem in Ghant?"

Arietta shrugged. “Some people are loyal, and others fuck around. Nobody takes a second spouse though…that would just be fucked up! And marrying someone of the same sex…you can’t do that! Marriage is between a man and a woman…although if you like somebody enough, you could just be with them and say ‘fuck it’, you know what I mean?”

"Of course, as a King, I had no such luxury of waiting. I have to sire children and breed the next generation of royals with a suitable, compatible mate, and so I have."

Arietta laughed. “What’s the point in being a King if you don’t have the luxury? You are only 21! You could have waited a few years before you got started, you know. My brother waited until he was 26.”

Nathan

"Your Majesty does me great honor, of course. I would have to be sure that it serves the best interests of Gavinium Magnus, as determined by the government, but if they are agreeable, I have no objection. My last diplomatic posting was a disappointment, but perhaps this one will teach me much more and give my daughter a better understanding of this region. I thank you for the honor of your asking me, in any case. To be asked for by name is a signal honor indeed," Natalie explained.

“Good, you are most welcome. If you are open to it, go ahead and mention it to your government. Your daughter ought to have a Palace life…as should you.”

"So, what are Your Majesty's thoughts on the likely outcome of this match, if I might ask? Also, on the restoration of the crowns and the election of the new prime minister and his government," she added.

“Wasn’t a love a match…that is for sure.” Nathan smirked. “Politics…has Malibar’s ambitions stamped all over it. Rest assured, Michael is going to spend the rest of his life attempting to get her to fall in love with him. That might be the…final frontier for him. Perhaps he will succeed, in which case he will something else to win. And as far as the restoration is concerned, well, that vote isn’t until December 1st…but it will pass, rest assured. People want those back. And Nymun is pretty cool…he brings chicken wings to the Privy Council meetings, and he knows a lot of funny stories and tells jokes…he gives me a reason to come to those meetings.” Nathan laughed.

[Cacerta]

Iralia and Anne-Marie

Iralia bowed honorably toward Bessandra, "Yes, Ma'am. A short-lived coup, I assure you." Iralia refrained from saying much else simply because she didn't have much else to say. She listened quietly to Perrin and Bessandra make their brief exchange before King Diego asked his Grandmother to join him in a dance and she quietly watched them disappear into the crowd.

A few brief moments passed before the Queen Dowager of Gavinium Magnus approached her and asked for an opportunity to dance with the Cacertian Officer. Iralia was not keen to dancing herself. She loved watching it just as much as she loved watching Anzio in panzer matches, but there was a certain uncomfortable air to the closeness of dancing that she had never gotten used to.

However, she knew what took priority in this situation and that was her manners. Rejecting a dance would be more than rude -- un-Cacertian-like even though Iralia was already very much un-Cacertian-like as she was. The former officer made a quick bow to Anne-Marie, "No apologies necessary, Your Highness. I would quite enjoy a dance."

[Arbites]

A few unfortunate individuals would have been stuck behind a ponderously-moving individual cloaked in clerical vestments. He was cloaked in a fine red silk cassock with a black sash which probably made him appear more imposing than the somewhat frail man he'd become. His jowls drooped, liver spots adorned his face, and there were lines etched on his forehead and extending from his eyes. A generation ago he'd helped build the Imperial Army into what it was today. A generation before that he'd been preaching fire and brimstone from the pulpit against the evils perpetrated by General Urdnot and New Ceti alike.

Though his movements were measured, there was still a certain fierceness to Cardinal Robertson's likeness. He believed he and his had done battle with the essence of evil itself and triumphed. By His will, the Ruinous Powers were driven out of eastern Ceti, and His nation was now thriving as scripture had always intended: orderly, safe, and with everything in its place. When one looked into the Cardinal's eyes, he saw a man harboring absolutely no doubts of his convictions, nor would they see any fear. It was into these determined, unwavering gaze that DeGroot stared, neither yielding in their mutual hatred for one another.

His Excellency was, however, wracked by arthritis. He bore it with as much grim resolve as he had with anything, after all, he himself had once said: 'No man is above sin. Let none of the faithful forget it. There was once a time, I confess publicly and openly, that I doubted that the Great Emergence was upon us. Therefore, the Emperor has seen fit to test my conviction. I will endure this pain to prove my devotion to Him.'

On the other hand, when one looked at Acolyte Remus, they saw the old man's shadow. The handsome priest was wearing a formal rabat and acted as Robertson's right hand man, managing the Cardinal's estate and attending to him on the rare foreign visit. In some cases the young man literally acted as Robertson's good set of hands, seeing how creaky the once energetic man had become. Creaky, and cranky.

"Avert your eyes, boy!" the Cardinal had snapped at Remus upon glimpsing some nude servants from an Imperial state car window.

"Of course, Your Grace," he replied obediently.

"Make sure to offer your congratulations to the King Consort and Queen, and do not repeat what I have already said this time! By the Emperor that was embarrassing. And look attentive during the wedding, this is our purpose for being here, after all," Robertson continued.

"Of course, Your Grace," Remus repeated.

"And by the Emperor, keep me up to date this time! I must be kept informed of affairs in the Holy City at this crucial time," he continued irritably.

"By His will, Your Grace," Remus replied. Those last two were contradictory. Somehow he had to appear to be devoting his full attention to the wedding and check the smartphone which the elderly Cardinal had no idea how to operate.

What Remus lacked in respect from his employer, he made up for in his control over access to the Cardinal. Arguably the member of the Curia with the most authority over the Imperial military, contracts, proposals, deals, everything ultimately flowed through Remus...and he knew it. Simply being connected to Robertson conveyed a fraction of his power.

Tagging along, who were anxious every time they were the presence of the other two, were Ambassador Jacob Lee and his wife Samantha. The Lees were watching every word they said; Samantha out of reverence for His Excellency and Jacob out of career aspirations. Lee had performed well for an Imperial diplomat, and all it might take to move even further up the food chain was to impress a man of such stature as Robertson. So far, however, the old man had proven hard to impress.

The Imperial party watched the wedding with an appropriate degree of reverence. Vows of matrimony were naturally taken very seriously in the Imperium, and so were weddings. Robertson believed this was the Queen's duty, to find a match and continue the family line. After all, New Edom needed a proper king again. Remus and Lee were content to get an afternoon off in a pleasant, happy occasion. Samantha was fixated on the dresses, jewelry, and some of the hairstyles, as per usual, and seemed to wear a giddy smile most of the time. In the reception lineup, Robertson tactfully offered the blessings of "God" upon the new royal couple, the rest offered their congratulations.

At the ball, the Imperial party was fashionably late to arrive, due to Robertson's plodding pace. No one dared suggest they go on ahead and meet him there. Upon seeing the Adiran donation on the gift register, however, Robertson muttered something beneath his breath. He had managed to come up with a $100 million donation to the NCR, which was dwarfed by whatever trickery the heretics were engaged in.

He arrived just in time for Zoot Suit Riot to start, prompting him to ask "What in the Emperor's name is that noise?"

"Noise, Your Grace?"

"That blasted rock and roll! This is meant to be a wedding reception, not a speakeasy! Remus, see if you can do something about this," Robertson ordered.

Glancing at Lee, Remus inhaled and said "Your Grace, this is the Queen's wedding night. She is young, and..."

"Young? Nearly twenty-five," Robertson recalled.

"...and such a suggestion risks great offense to our hosts."

"Our hosts risk great offense to their guests!"

"New Edom remains an Imperial ally. Surely our faith can see us through this test?"

Robertson seemed to snort, and then plodded his way into the ballroom. In an instant he was the grandfatherly old man, presiding over the "kids," while naturally wishing the Emperor would strike DeGroot down on the dance floor. Surveying the type of dancing, he didn't seem to comment. That meant he wasn't overly offended. Taking this as a sign, Lee said "Your Grace, I beg your leave. My wife and I would like to enjoy a dance."

Robertson seemed to look at the pair of them for an agonizing moment, before dismissing the two of them. The Lees then stepped out onto the dance floor and entered into a more traditional swing dance. Samantha had trimmed off some of the baby weight, still curvier than before she had kids but that just meant she filled out her purple ball gown a bit better...very well, in fact. Every once in a while, she would give her husband just a bit of a tease, a bend here, a tender touch there. As a lady of quality though, she would never do anything obscene.

[Late Roman Empire]

Caesar's wife, like all of Caesar's family, must be above suspicion.- Gaius Julius Caesar

Titus Clemens, the Caesar of the Late Roman Empire, it's most prominent face after the Augustus, Valerian II, himself, was now traveling with his father-in-law and not a wife in sight. Both women were back home in Constantinople, with Livia tending to her stepmother and newborn half-sister, of course. Originally, only the Caesar was to be able to attend, but the birth of the young princess enabled her father to belatedly RSVP, after all.

And now, here they were. Valerian and Titus....old friends. Old colleagues. Emperor and Caesar. Father-in-law and son-in-law. The Lord of the World and his chosen right hand. Two different men, one the most blue-blooded Emperor in the history of the Empire, the other an orphan terribly insecure about his noted lack of ancestry. Yet both rose up the ranks of the diplomatic corps, such as it was and became Imperial State Secretaries and Masters of Offices in turn. Valerian was on his second marriage, having been married and divorced before, while Titus was a lifelong bachelor until taking the Emperor's bastard daughter as his bride.

And here they were, back in New Edom, where Valerian had commanded troops briefly and Titus had on occasion served as his deputy, his hand. Here they were, at the wedding of the lovely Queen Mara, both of them quite pleased at the development. Admittedly, it was torment for Titus, seeing her again...Ava, not Mara. Princess Ava Shalmaneser, the first woman who had ever truly loved him. Seeing her like this, glassy eyed as a junkie, her fire extinguished before it had a chance to truly shine its light....it was almost unbearable for him. He knew that she was driven to the drugs because of her personal misery and he ached to comfort her, to make her need the narcotics no more.

It was quite the affair for all of them, made more complex by rumors about the Emperor himself, ones which none could confirm...rumors that the Emperor had been drunk during the trip and someone had slipped into his bed and all but ravished him. Since he had struggled so long and hard to be faithful, Titus knew that Valerian would be crushed by the guilt and blame himself. Never mind that he was in a weakened state of low resistance, he would hold himself to the scale of his word of honor and find himself wanting.

Looking around the delegation, the guilty look on Lucia's face spoke volumes. The Imperial Relief Officer, who had arrived to brief the Augustus on the situation in Fineberg before they arrived....she had been to blame....proving it would be hard to do....and Titus would have to do everything to quell the gossip once he got the chance, before they spread and risked the Emperor's marriage over a moment of intoxicated passion, when he was defenseless....it could even be called rape. The Augustus would never call it that, however, and would be torn up by the shame of it, probably for the rest of his days.

Valerian indeed looked haunted and Titus realized that it was true....Lucia had seduced her Emperor in his helpless state and now only belatedly realized the gravity of her own action. Neither of them could look each other in the eye and Titus could swear that he saw tears being fought back from the cheeks of the Lord of the World.

This is why I will never make promises of that sort, ever, to any woman, as long as I live. It is only asking for failure. Livia understands this. Perhaps her father should now accept cold, hard facts and so should his lovely, but naive Tartarian wife. Fidelity is a fool's game.

Everyone put that behind them as they were heralded by Count Justus Florianus and Consul Junius Ausonius into the ball, after the wedding and the reception....it was time for a ball...but who would truly enjoy it?

Titus couldn't help but keep looking at Ava with his tormented gaze, his tantalized pain of longing and love. It was never just lust between them, nor power, nor even convenience or compatibility. It was about love. He loved her and she loved him back, or so he was sure. More than Lucia ever did for sure....and what would she do for love now? What would Ava do, for that matter?

At first busy making the Roman donation of 140,000,000 NSD in the gift registry for the Queen's charities, now the Emperor stood with a heavy heart and encouraged the others to dance while he just stood and watched them with a genuine sense of remorse and regret. What was he to do now? He had broken his word to Serena, albeit not with intent. What good was a Roman Emperor without his honor, his word, his integrity? All that lost in a moment of heat and lonely weakness.

All was lost....all was lost....all but his duty. That he would continue to do, and in that he would regain his honor at last.

Titus, meanwhile, started out by asking Ava...he had to. They could do what they wanted to him, skin him alive afterward, but he would make sure that she had one moment of happiness before she returned to wallow in her suffering and solitude.

So be it, he would dance with his soulmate, his Ava.

"May I have this dance, Your Highness?" he smiled a bittersweet smile.

Meanwhile, Lucia finally took action to rid her Emperor of his shame and his pain.

"Domine, allow me to make amends. I have wronged you. It was not your fault, but mine. I have laid hands upon my Emperor without his consent. I deserve to die. Slay me now, if it please you, but do not take the shame and guilt of what I alone did. You were not at fault. Let me assume my responsibility in this, I beg you! My life is in your hands. Do whatever you wish to me!" she groveled before him, kissing the purple of his robe.

"Stand up! You are right that you have wronged us, but most of all you have wronged our wife by making it nearly impossible to keep our word. Your sentence is this. You will spend the rest of your life serving a great man, which cannot be us. You will retire and take a husband, and you will love him as long as you draw breath. Is that clear to you? After this ball, of course. For now, find a partner and stay with him for the night," the voice of the Augustus uttered with his authority.

"As you wish, Augustus. Then I choose him," she went up to Erryk Thrall.

"With your permission, Imperial Majesty, if you please," she knelt and urged Jennifer Thrall.

Meanwhile, Justus Florianus and Junius Ausonius each walked to the Ghantish Emperor's half-sisters.

"Make I have this dance?" Florianus asked, while Ausonius asked, "What would you say to a dance, domina?"

The Emperor, meanwhile, being bored, just finally walked over to Dr. Salt.

"A dance for an old friend of the Free Congress and the Boy General?" he leaned in and whispered to her, still somewhat shaken but trying to hide it well...more vulnerable than any Emperor should be.

[Hittanryan]

Holly

Holly was offering a handshake, not a hand-kiss. Were all foreigners weird? Just at the right time, however, he said the "D" word. "Great! I've been trying to get out on the dance floor since I got here!" Holly said. Abruptly turning the hand-kiss around on him, Holly grabbed Jean by the hand and basically dragged him out onto the floor. And he was kind of cute, too, wasn't he? Always helped.

"Try to keep up..." she challenged the Shalumite. She started out with a sort of typical swing dance to go with the music, but quickly started adding her own flares to it just to feel him out. First she threw in a twirl or two, see if he could catch her. Then she started breaking out of the swing style a bit, but keeping in time with the beat. Shaking her hips, shimmying her shoulders, and throwing in a few gyrations when it struck her. Maybe part of her wanted to see how he'd react. On the whole, however, she was simply having a blast.

Tamburo

“I volunteered, because my second cousin Sophia speaks highly of you, and your position in Dakar is one most honorable. You are, from what I have gathered, a man worthy of both admiration and respect.”

"Oh, she put in the good word for me, huh? I guess I'm good at my job, which is acting like a man worthy of admiration and respect," Tamburo said with a wink. He desperately needed to stop flirting...yet couldn't. Tamburo's conscience and his manhood were locked in a chess match, with his member winning.

'This is a bad idea!' his conscience would say.

'Knight to G5.'

'Damn it!'

However, his dilemma was alleviated somewhat. As tempting as it was to try to slow dance with Alazne Dain, Tamburo was relieved when it turned into an upbeat track. Plausible deniability and all that. "Well, we've gone from box step to Lindy hops. How's that work? Well, I'm game if you are."

How good was she? Tamburo decided to just do what he knew: wing it and hope for the best. He kept his feet moving in tune to the beat, a few kicks and touches here and there. When he got adventurous, he gave Alazne a twirl and decided to see what she'd do from there.

[Lamoni]

Lamonian Ambassador to New Edom Fernando Ramsden wished that he could be out on the dance floor, but his wife was deathly ill with Acute Myeloid Leukemia, and so could not attend the Grand Ball. Either way, he currently had no dancing partner. He had hoped to dance with the Nalayan, but it appeared that she was presently with someone else. She wasn't the only one that he could recognize at a glance, however. There were plenty of Edomites and Ghantish, as well as people from Arbites, and Gavinians, Ganosians, New Othmanni, Shalumites, Garzans, and many others that his practiced diplomatic eyes could pick out at a glance.

Moving to the dance floor, the forty-five year old diplomat had a face that looked like he was still in his thirties, which often got him compliments from those who could somehow divine his real age. "Good genes," some said about his looks, which included the build of someone who spent a lot of time doing track and field events, as indeed the ambassador did, when he had the time to do so.

His thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Cardinal Robertson, who seemed to be taking everything in with a look of slight disapproval, but what else could one expect from someone who had risen so high in the ranks of religion in that nation? It made him happier that discussions between the embassy and the Edomite government about the gift situation had made it clear that the Lamonians would follow the Edomite "gift suggestions" to the letter, so as not to offend their hosts. As a result, one hundred forty million Lamonian Rushannas had been donated to the Queen's suggested list of charities.

Moving toward the crowd of people who were not on the dance floor, the six foot five inch, raven haired ambassador with green eyes was dressed in his best tuxedo, looking for someone who was open for conversation. Certainly, if one wished to take a dark bent, one could always talk to the Ganosian Chancellor Princess and her secretary. Allison Amber's Rapier wit and tongue were well known in the corridors of the Lamonian Ministry of Foreign Affairs, and the ambassador had decided to try to enjoy first the wedding, and now the Grand Ball. Empress Quinn was a better bet, if one wished to talk to the Ganosians, but even the Empress seemed to already have people around her. No, better to find someone who didn't have anyone to talk to as yet. Of course, one could always talk to the Cardinal, but the ambassador knew so little about the Cardinal's religion that it might be difficult to find a common frame of reference.

Spotting a good conversation going on at the bar, Ambassador Ramsden decided to head that way. Maybe they would let him join in on whatever conversation that they were having.

[Ghant]

Alazne

"Oh, she put in the good word for me, huh? I guess I'm good at my job, which is acting like a man worthy of admiration and respect."

“I was hoping it was authentic.” Alazne said with a smile.

"Well, we've gone from box step to Lindy hops. How's that work? Well, I'm game if you are."

“I most certainly am.” Alazne always had a knack for speaking in a soothing tone, as if some kind of an instrument. Tamburo was a good dancer, and so was Alazne. He gave her a twirl, and Alazne pulled it off flawlessly, her dress and her hair spinning around as she went, with a pearly white smile on her face and her purple eyes glistening.

Alexia and Alexandra

Alexia sighed. She wanted to meet John Holland and dance with him. Rebecca had told her much about him, and he sounded like a really sweet boy. And handsome too.

Alas, a dance with him would not be, for the time being, as the Vyrsarians had apparently gotten to him first. Oh well. Alexia was a half-sister to the Emperor of Ghant…it wouldn’t be long before she danced with somebody.

Yet not all was lost for the tragic princess, who always seemed to be in the wrong place at the wrong time and suffered from horrible luck and bad beats. Some Roman fellows approached her and her sister for a dance. Alexia and Alexandra both accepted the offers, and extended their hands for the dance.

So it was that Justus Florianus danced with Alexandra and Junius Ausonius danced with Alexia.

Caroline

Caroline knew what he looked like. Distinguished and handsome he was…she could think that, even though she was married. Despite what they said about her, Caroline Zuria, daughter of Raymond Zuria and Flavia Ahenobarba, was not a cheater…anymore.

Being the mother of the Emperor of Ghant was no easy task, either. Even when she lived away from court in a lofty suburb on the beach, she could feel the stress of it. Of her son and his deeds, good or foul.

She approached Valerian dutifully, and did a curtsy when she found him, wearing her blue green dress that left her back exposed, and her red hair in a bun above her head. “Please forgive me your majesty, but I was hoping you would do the honor of a dance. For I am Caroline, the Princess Dowager of Ghant.” Caroline said with a smile, her brown eyes gleaming.

Zara

Zara of the House Thrall had a bad habit. She sought out conflict like a moth seeks out a flame. Her being the moth, and the other Thralls being the flame.

Getting separated from Murbella seemed to steer her in that direction. She knew where they were, what they were doing. All she had to do was go in that direction. And that was what she did.

Zara had a plan, though. She wasn’t going to directly antagonize Jennifer. Rather, she was going to dance with Erryk Thrall. At the very least. Zara thought he was a decent looking fellow, and she was itching to see their reaction.

When she got there, she found a Roman woman groveling at Jennifer. "With your permission, Imperial Majesty, if you please," said a woman who knelt before Jennifer Thrall.

Zara was more assertive. She stood up straight and looked at Erryk Thrall, paying no heed to his companions. “Would you care to dance with me, sir?”

[Hittanryan]

DeGroot

As the music changed, the President and the First Lady briefly made their way off the dance floor. It wasn't long before something caught DeGroot's eye. "Look who just walked in..." DeGroot said, glancing at the man he'd recently waged war against.

"Fuck him," Lily whispered.

"Nobody's fucked him since the Fall of the Empire, I'm certainly not going to start," he whispered back. He watched the old man--could he really be considered a man anymore after the things he'd done?--slunk his way to the back of the gallery with his stooge in tow.

Surprisingly, the Imperial ambassador was permitted to dance with his wife to some of what was no doubt music most sinful. Then they had their wholesome, state-approved fun in a wholesome, state-approved manner. "Do you suppose those are real?" Lily asked archly of Samantha's bosom.

"Maybe she prayed for them?" DeGroot replied snidely.

Lily suddenly had a gleam in her eye. It was hard enough getting her husband's mind off of work, let alone the presence of an avowed enemy of the nation. "Hey, Saturnalia 06."

"Huh? What about it?"

"Let's do it. Show them how it's done," she said mischievously.

"What, now?"

"Beat's about right. Or will your spine snap in two, old man?"

Not about to back down from a challenge like that, Adiron's first couple walked back onto the dance floor and launched into a dance.

Minus the ass slapping

[Novitera]

Kenneth

They were both tied down by love to their professions. Kenneth decided that his was more of an addiction he could not shake however. The respect, the power and especially how it feels to win. To use your cunning and outwit the opponent. Kenneth executed the moves perfectly and could see that Keth, while not that experienced in this danced, was doing fine and seemed quite comfortable with herself.

"Yes, we'll go slow." Kenneth replied. He did not want to push Keth into anything too advanced but the woman was very confident in herself. Perhaps she was up to the task after all. Given her personality to so far, Keth might even be insulted if he go easy. He began to lead her into the basics and slowly building up to flashier tricks. Always cuing Keth with his movements or eyes before doing so. Something told him she understood body language far better than speech.

Once thing that Kenneth realized, after all the talk of duty and tasks, was that he still did not know what Keth's was. He was not even sure if he really cared to know. It seemed like such a lame and cliche conversation topic no matter what a person's profession was. They could be a rockstar, astronaut or race card driver.

"I don't want to know what you really do. Keth the dancer is all I want to remember." He said.

[Schottia]

Freya Kelman with James Mathews
Freya felt a little relieved when she found out that the man she was speaking to wasn't a member of the royal family. That might have been a bit much for her. Schottia was perhaps guilty of a bit of 'reverse snobbery' as her culture seemed to almost fetishise working-class pricipals and ideology. Most girls growing up in other nations probably dreaded introducing certain boys to their parents because they were not good enough for them, for Schottic girls it was probably the other way round. Although arguably, that was changing these days.

'Well, my regards to them nonetheless.' She said, taking a drink from her wine glass. 'But I won't go on about Belisaria all night I'm sure you must be relieved to have the chance to get away from it. It threat of war is never really that immediate in Schottia, so its a bit different for me. I mean if we were in a less violent part of the world I doubt we'd have any armed forces at all.'

'I'm the chairperson of a trade union called...' She inhaled audibly, as if to emphasise how long she was going to need to speak for. 'The Union of Retail-Trade, Distributive and Allied Workers. We have around 200,000 members and we are based... I don't know how well you know Schottia? ...In the town of Dundee?' She squinted a little, and soothed her dress down, hopping she wasn't talking nonsense.

'Basically, the only reason I'm here is because the politicians are all busy knocking on doors and wearing fake smiles, walking around community centres.' The High Council was of course in recess, with the Schottic elections a month or so away.

'So what did you think of the wedding and everything?' She asked looking for anything to keep the conversation away from politics. 'Is your wife here with you?'

Gary Corsie
Never really one for the ability to charm, Gary decided to take some time to ease himself in slowly. Very slowly. In fact he may not be finished easing by the time the party comes to an end. A whole night of just easing sounded great. When he thought about it this way it made everything seem so much better, no pressure, whatever will be will be. There was no point in getting over-excited. What was it his friend Phil always said? "Setting out is the first step towards failure." How wise Phil, how wise.

Gary must have relaxed a little too much though as before long his feet and had found their way to the bar as if gently coerced by some subtle camber of the floor. Well while he was there he may as well drink something. He definitely wasn't as bad as some footballers. Gaston Avelione would be off his chops by now! Probably lain out in the street, chocking on his own vomit, with his head kicked in after making a pass at someone’s wife. But that's not funny Gaston is an alcoholic, and one shouldn't laugh, as it's an illness.

The relaxation continued and he found himself experiencing enjoyment. Actual enjoyment. He was standing drink in hand, with a small smile behind his beard. Yes he was definitely enjoying himself. The pressure of being a Goodwill Ambassador had been a bit much for him, even when he had believed it only a ceremonial title. Now that he had totally fucked it up however, the pressure had been lifted.

Gary had a innate mistrust for the feeling of relaxation. He normally relaxed into a game, just before his team conceded a goal. Relaxed into conversation, before he said something to offend the girl he was chatting to. Relaxed in bed in the morning, just before his alarm went off.

This instance was no different as his newfound floatyness brought him face to face with a man he knew as the dictator of New Edom. There was something about the term dictator that terrified Gary. It sounded as if he was answerable to no one, he wouldn't be governed by the same social constraints that Gary relied so heavily upon. He had to say something though. What? Just be yourself. There were a thousand reasons why being himself was not a good idea.

'Gary, Gary Corsie. Pleased to meet you...' Shit! How do you address him? He should have read that laminate, 'Who's who in Cornellia,' instead of just skipping to the one with the Princesses. He knew it was probably Sir/ or General, but he was also the nation's leader? Did that change it? Jesus of Nazareth, he had to think quickly! '...Sir.'

[Deadora]

Sentiment and Surprise

As was their tendency, the Deadoran party remained clumped together for a few moments as they examined and dissected the crowd with clever eyes. Every social situation was a battlefield, a war of competing desires fought with the oldest weapons of all: the mind and the tongue. The exception was rebellious Karsta, who had slipped away at the first chance, intentionally oblivious to her mother's stare and leaving the Ambassador stiff with embarrassment. Jennifer's lips quirked up in amusement, but Katniss offered the woman a sympathetic touch on the shoulder.

"Daughters. Pike down, Foerlene. To fight with them is to love them." Katniss said softly, in High Nadiric, the tongue of the aristocracy.

Foerlene frowned, but turned and looked back at Katniss. "So it is," she sighed. Glancing at Bethany, she then said, "but this land is not safe like ours is, and I fear she is learning recklessness." Unsure of whether she was being warned or praised, Bethany stayed silent.

Then their moments were over, and the battle began.

Jennifer was first to be approached, a sniveling Roman domesticate that immediately knelt in front of her. The sight of a woman so instinctively taking to her knees sparked in her a surge of pity, but also contempt for such submissiveness. "Stand up." She said in Latin. "Do you need something of me?"

“Would you care to dance with me, sir?”

Erryk, who had been watching Jennifer, turned his head sharply towards the voice that spoke so close. Not so long ago he had courted a Queen of a distant land. He had looked her in the eye then, free of expectation, and it had become somewhat of a resurgent habit. He'd earned more than a lash for it since then. When he met this new woman's eyes, they seemed to catch his curiosity. They were a rich green, almost familiar. Perturbed, Erryk dropped his gaze and bared his neck, looking to Jennifer in doing so.

The Empress had also turned her head to regard the new interloper. There was no pity in her then, just coldness. Erryk would remain bared until the woman acknowledged Jennifer's stare. "Go ahead, dear cousin." Jennifer said. Her instinct bristled with distaste for the women. It would be good to have Erryk scout her. "As for you," she went on, looking back at the Roman woman, "it seems your initiative was not enough. I can offer Captain Crowd, if he so suites you."

Crowd, the loyal soldier, lover, stepped forward, a gentle smile tugging the scar that ran from the left temple down to the jaw. His eyes were as hard and blue as the glaciers of the Nadir mountains.

[Nalaya]

Keth the dancer is all I want to remember. Those words touched Kethiilys and even moved her just a little. It was a subtle reminder that she wan't dead inside—she could still be charmed. Perhaps no one would understand why she found it so charming. She herself couldn't explain the little surge of warmth. She was with someone who didn't care what she did and didn't expect anything of her. They appreciated one of her passions and would remember her by that rather than anything she had to do.

"You are a rare gentleman, aren't you?" Keth said with a smile that she couldn't help. He certainly knew the right things to say.

It was true, she could read his body and his eyes more than well enough to follow his lead on the more complicated parts of the dance. She wouldn't be winning any awards, but she could follow the steps and that was more than she'd been expecting of herself. But more than that, she wasn't thinking about anything other than being here in this particular moment. There was no time to overthink her personal life or wallow in old feelings. It was unforgiving, like work. If she grew too ponderous, she would misstep and the atmosphere they'd created would crumble. That was something she most definitely did not want to do.

Around them were some of the most powerful men and women in the world. That said, it was hard to feel insignificant now for Keth. Such was the appeal of charm. It would be disappointing when she lost Kenneth to something or someone he deemed more interesting. For now, she was happy.

It felt good to have fun again.

"Thank you, Kenneth," she said when the dance started to wind down. It would change style again and she would probably eventually lose her ability to keep up. Beyond swing and the classics, she had only learned how to dance in nightclubs and that was for work more than pleasure. There were just the beginnings of a few aches in some of her muscles from a very pleasant exertion and she felt the endorphins hitting her full force. Green eyes alight and cheeks colored, she looked very much alive and delighted. For the usually reserved, composed woman, it was a pleasant change. "It has been a very long time since I have enjoyed myself so thoroughly."

It was certainly not a lie. This was her first night off in ten years that actually felt like a night off. There was no sword of duty hanging above her head ready to plunge down. The Noviteri might have had some business at this event—didn't they always have business?—but he had brought light and laughter to her evening. She was uncertain whether he would walk away now that the dance was over or stay. Either way, she would probably be getting her second drink. May be scotch. She'd heard good things about it even though she'd never actually tried it before.

[Novitera]

Kenneth Sorley

They were having a wonderful time, that much Kenneth could tell. In truth he thought this might have turned out to be a crash and burn approach. Kenneth did well enough in Novitera, knowing the culture much better. Plus there was always women only interested in the size of his wallet or his reputation did the work. This ball had given him the chance to get someone to like him for who he truly was and he had succeeded somewhat. Keth knew nothing of his wealth or success. That brought a grin to his face.

"You are a rare gentleman, aren't you?" Keth said with a smile that she couldn't help. He certainly knew the right things to say.

"Not at all. I just think faster. And who said I was a gentleman to begin with?" He responded with a satisfied smirk.

Throughout the dance, Keth acquitted herself well. He would have no shame being her partner on the dance floor if this was Novitera. She was lithe and coordinated. Kenneth guessed Keth was either an athlete or military. At least she used to be one of the two. The music began to die down and the song changed. It was time for a break lest he sweat through his suit. Keth also looked ready for a rest. There was time to pick up later anyways. Kenneth saw Harvey give him a look in the corner of his eye. He shot back his own look that simply said, "Not now".

"I have an idea." Kenneth said and looked at Keth deviously. "Why don't I choose a drink for you and you choose one for me?"

[Vyrsar]

Rebekka and John (And everyone else who is there)

Rebekka blushed a bit and, with a quick glance at Emilie who nodded with a smile, spoke.

"Of course I am," she said rather tediously, speaking slowly and her accent twisting the words. She smiled at him again, this time with a more pronounced blush.

"Sie Beide (Both of you)! Los (Go)!" Emilie half-heartedly shooed the two of them away, in the direction of the dance floor.

Behind them, Alena turned to Matthew and Allaria, a smile on her face that they all knew was false. Not because they could see it, but because they all knew what the air was like between them.

"So. How are you two?"