Suggested Listening

Elruin stepped out of the changing room with her arms out, unwilling to touch the dress she suspected cost more than everything else she owned combined. The dark teal fabric became lighter as layers grew thinner toward the extremities. The billowing effect created the impression of a waterfall, or a fluffy and delicate flower. Elruin was afraid to use her lifesight, for fear even that minor use of magic would melt the gossamer cloth.

"Oh!" Lemia was already outside, having changed into her own red dress long ago. It, too, was comprised of numerous layers, but it held together in such a way that they draped off her shoulders in a manner that accentuated her generous figure as well as covering it, topped off with a red ribbon in her hair. "You're adorable! I want to hug you forever!"

Elruin smiled at the approval. "Don't, I'm afraid you'll break it."

Lemia gave Elruin a pat on the head. "Then I can wait. Besides, we should get going." She turned toward the demure maidservants waiting in silence. "I imagine being late to your own party is a faux pas.

"Please, this way," the older looking of the two said. Neither were near elderly, but both were years older than the two heroes they escorted. Soon, they found themselves coming around a corner into a large ballroom which was filling with people. They weren't first to arrive, but they were far from last, and they had people coming for them the moment the maids stepped aside so they could enter.

Lady Juna and Lord Garit were the first to greet their arrival. Elruin missed the subliminal social interplay which determined it would be them, while the others stayed back far enough to be out of eavesdropping range. Lemia, too, took a step back. This was clearly not a place she should involve herself in.

"I'm glad to see you're well," Juna said. "Look at you in that gown. You're the very picture of a fine young noblewoman. It brings me fond memories of the dances of my childhood."

"Dear sister," Garit said. "I seem to recall you destroying those dresses in ever more elaborate ways, such as convincing our playmates to set you on fire. Much to the dismay of our parents."

Juna's grin was mischievous, bordering on malicious. "As I said, fond memories."

Elruin couldn't take her eyes off the burn scar trailing down Juna's cheek and jaw, before it vanished beneath her clothes. "You're hurt." She risked her lifesight for a moment, confirming that there was depth to her injuries. She had to be in a great deal of pain, with wounds so fresh and raw. "What happened?"

"My traitor of a half brother..." Juna's cheerful act slipped for a moment. "But you needn't worry about me, it's a minor injury. In fact, I think I'll ask the healers not to touch the surface injuries. My face will bear the literal scars of our brother's betrayal, especially for our father. Let him look at me and be unable to forget what his favorite son did."

"Oh, wrathful and wondrous sibling, perhaps it's better to move on to other topics?"

"Ah, but of course, you were always better at pretending to be even-headed than I." Juna's smile returned, forced though it was. "My dear brother wanted to ask what became of his lost fiancée. Claron's people report she died, but other reports say you had a priestess with you, one calling herself Esra, who seemed familiar with matters of politic and war."

"When I heard, I thought perhaps Calenda found a way to fake her death." Garit pushed the limits of social acceptability, in talking as he was, but he could always say he was speaking to Juna rather than Elruin. "I don't know why she feels the need to hide, now that Claron is gone. If she's avoiding me, I want her to know I won't ask anything more of her."

"I'm sorry." Elruin brought her hands together. "Cali died from a magic weapon I built. Like Claron, she cannot be resurrected. Her last words were 'I choose to die on my feet.' She will be remembered."

Garit closed his eyes, lest they see him cry. "As in life, so too in death."

"Her absence will be felt by all," Juna said. "Which is the other reason we're here. This would be your first experience in royal court. You'll find many gifts and favors being traded about here, and we'd like to help you navigate the waters. Your position in the political order has become complicated. Between the death of Claron and the death of your mother, nobody's quite certain what to do with you."

"Nonsense! It's quite simple." An older woman approached. Her red hair might one time have possessed the same vibrant red as Calenda's, but it had faded. In spite of that and other changes brought on by the march of years, Elruin recognized her well before she introduced herself. "I am Lady Aster, Calenda's mother. That makes me your grandmother, and so you are secure within our house."

"Not as I recall." Juna's usual cheer carried a little edge to it. "My ever-so-studious brother, could you please confirm for me how the laws of succession apply in a situation such as this one?"

"The children of non-inheriting children have no claim of estate, unless their parent or parents are made to be inheriting at a later date." Garit's words were stated with a practiced neutrality, as if reciting to a class, or the instructor. "It's a textbook case of broken lineage. I'm afraid all claims Elruin has of belonging to your house died with Lady Calenda."

Lady Aster hid her displeasure a little worse than Juna managed. "Don't listen to them," she said to Elruin. "They both know claims can be established by any head of a royal house. Or re-established, as is this situation."

"Not without the approval of the recipient," Juna said. She smiled at Elruin. "Which, I suppose, makes it your choice."

Elruin didn't need to be asked, now that she knew Lady Aster couldn't do anything to punish her, like a real grandmother could. "You're a mean woman."

Lady Aster's mouth fell open for a moment, before she closed it, glared at Juna, then marched away without another word.

"I hope that won't come back to hurt us," Lemia whispered. "Antagonizing noble houses never leads anywhere good, in my experience."

"I wouldn't make a habit of it, but in this one specific situation I think you'll be fine," Juna said. "House Andara was never a major player, I dare say Calenda was the only member of the line with any true talent, and her betrothal to my brother their last foothold on the national level. It hasn't helped that Lady Aster lacks the political acumen, or basic human decency, of her predecessor. Asserting a claim on Elruin was their last visible opportunity to matter in our lifetimes."

Lemia looked at the back of the retreating noblewoman. "What happens to them, now?"

"The usual," Juna said. "They're still a minor bloodline, and nobody can take that away. Their best will rise to a certain extent in the Guard or priesthood. They'll continue marrying into lesser houses, waiting like the rest for an opportunity to take center stage again. But the night is young and there are many players still in the game."

Soon, a girl younger than Elruin, in a somehow even poofier dress, approached the group. She kept her head down, but held out a locket of woven gold. "Please accept our gift, in gratitude for stopping the pretender." The child spoke as if reciting lines, while behind her, a pair that must have been her parents watched.

As emotional manipulation went, it was as transparent as it was impactful, and all of it flew over Elruin's head. "If you want to give gifts, it's better to donate to helping those hurt by the war. There are people injured and starving who need it."

The child nodded, then returned to her parents as fast as her little legs could take her without tripping over her clothes. They seemed less than enthused when their daughter recited what Elruin said, but accepted it nonetheless.

"Good answer," Juna said. "You managed to refuse the gift without rejecting the house making the offer."

"We may have received some coaching," Lemia admitted. "Is this sort of thing common at these balls? And what's even the point?"

"It seems to me it is all we do, every time we have a ball," Juna said. "The point is that the more wealthy and powerful houses test the lesser, learn their measure, and try to out perform each other in buying loyalties. They'll offer gifts to one another as well, but as a rule the act of accepting a gift is seen as an admission of weakness. If you need to be given a gift, you're not good enough to earn it for yourself."

Lemia almost laughed, for this was a situation she had found herself in all too often. The difference being, the people she knew were more honest about their goals, and more violent in their methods. "You're very good at it, yourself." Lemia kept her eyes locked on Juna. "We accepted your help first, and now you're in a place where you can all but control who gets to make what offers to us. Even the major houses must admit you outmaneuvered them."

"And you are a fast learner." Juna showed not a hint of shame, bragging, or condescension. "I'm glad little Elruin has someone like you to watch her back, I can tell she's going to need you. As much as I loved Calenda, she wasn't much better at dealing with politics than her mother. The difference being, her mother loves politics and hates people, while she hated politics and loved people."

"I just find myself wondering what you get out of telling me all of this."

Lady Juna laughed. "If you had asked me that question six months ago, I might have finished explaining it to you yesterday. The simplest answer, I suppose, is that I don't care what the game is, I want to find someone who can beat me at my best. Go ahead, ask my brother."

"I'll take your word for it." Lemia focused on Juna, and avoided letting herself be distracted. "So, out of curiosity, what happens when you find someone who does beat you?"

Juna shrugged, then turned to look at the crowd. "I don't know."