The mirror reflected back draping folds of silk chiffon that
blended through the hues of sea and sky, fitted through the waist
and flowing out into the swirls of a skirt that pooled on the floor.
A half-dozen layers of the filmy fabric obscured all evidence of the
white chemise which served as the gown's base, only visible in
the fingerwidth across the top of the bodice. All in all, it was the
height of Atlantean fashion.
All in all, Meri thought as she grimaced at her reflection, it was
impractical, wasteful, and going to be the definition of
hinderance tonight.
And she had no choice but to wear it.
The Aunts -- collective term for her mother's three unwedded
sisters -- had received an invitation to Sarvas' reacceptance this
evening, and there had been no question from the moment the
ornate envelope had arrived that they would be going. Despite it
having been one of Meri's nights on-duty at the Academy, one of
the Aunts had doubtless arranged for a change in the duty
rosters, for Iasen had told her in no uncertain terms to take the
night and "have fun". Between him and her kin, she didn't have
much of a choice. Even if she had, she would have still gone:
her aunts expected it of her, and the last thing she wanted was to
disappoint them.
"Chailinaya!" Sanyu's voice rang from the common room; Meri
picked up the voluminous folds of her skirts and hurried out, feet
in soft blue slippers making barely a sound upon the polished
marble floors. She slipped past the curtains and into the room,
dropping her skirts and settling into a more sedate pace as she
approached the older woman. Eldest of the trio, Sanyu was clad
conservatively, silver-threaded red hair pinned up smoothly;
behind her, Jabulani wore something similar and a cheerful
expression. The lines on her face deepend as she studied her
niece and smiled.
"Turn around. Slower, now, let me see. Very nice." Dark eyes
sparkling, she tucked a curl back behind Meri's ear and nodded
her satisfaction. "You look stunning, child."
She ducked her head, looking out the room's immense
windows instead at the glitter of the city below. "When do we
leave?"
"As soon as -- ah, there you are, Fisseha." As the youngest of
the Aunts entered the room, Sanyu gathered up her wrap and
tucked the invitation into a corner of it. Turning back to the
others, she angled her head towards the door. "Now will do
quite fine, I think," she added in an aside to Meri as they made
their way outside. Behind her, Meri closed the door softly and
whispered the word necessary to trigger the locking spell. She
tilted her head back, trying to catch a glimpse of the stars above,
but most of them were drowned out by the lamp beside the door
and the silvery light of the full moon. Snugging her own wrap
about her shoulders, she followed her aunts down the stairs.
Might as well face tonight in the best of moods.
The majority of the journey she passed in silence; it was short
enough, and her aunts chattered amongst themselves like magpies,
speculating over who might show up tonight and why Lord
Savas had finally been allowed back into His Majesty's good
graces -- and most of all, the precise nature of Sarvas'
peace-gift. She listened absently, rehearsing the polite
negations she would use in the course of the evening, all the
little excuses which would serve her. The list concluded almost
precisely at the time they reached the grand reception hall and
she placed a bright smile upon her face as she trailed along in
the wake of her formidable relatives.
Inside, the hall was a whirl of colour and sound: illuminated
by magic, the strains of orchestra music wafting amid knots of
people in bright clothing, and upon a dais at the head of the
room, the two harps which had caused such a stir. She studied
the critically from a distance, but what caught more of her
attention were the statues scattered about the room. They
looked like -- no, she realised as she looked more closely, they
_were_ -- ice sculptures, and it had certainly been a master's
hand that had worked upon them, for the figures were amazingly
lifelike.
Meri let herself be towed along by her aunts, absently nodding
a greeting here or returning a courtesy there. Though she had
comparatively little interaction with Atlantis' high society, thanks
in no small amount to her dedication to her calling, both Izefia
and Ibtihaj were names not unknown among those circles.
Thanks to the chivvying and matchmaking she was subject to,
however, there were sufficient who knew the red-haired healer,
and she soon found herself subtly nudged off with the younger
son of one of the noble famlies.
By the time she managed to extricate her arm from his and
slip away with a pleasantly neutral farewell, the was picking up
around her. She looked around, trying to spot her aunts from
amidst the swirl of brightly coloured, chattering figures she'd put
betwen herself and the young lordling. Up onto her toes to see if
she could catch a glimpse over the heads of those nearby, but
from her vantage point -- and given the diminutive figures of her
kin -- it was unsurprising. Meri sighed. This might be harder
than she'd anticipated.
A little ways from the despairing Meri, a man was being harassed by a
teenage girl.
"I am an important guest!" Lark reasoned. To emphasize on this, she shook
him rather violently for an Atlantean. One might've almost thought she had
some Earthbound blood in her, although she rather harmlessly plain despite
her slight strength. Her long reddish hair were twisted up in a simple bun
on her head, with narrow dangling braids running down her back. Her
form-fitting dark green dress was accented in gold; a translucent silk
capelike garment tossed almost haphazardedly over her shoulders. It
changed colors at random, as did the jewels assembled around her neck and
wrists. She might've looked like some newly-wealthy adult if not for the
touch of baby fat in her cheeks. Still, she was not a bad-looking girl,
and seemed quite friendly and energetic.
The man, who had been appointed as one of the many magical royal guards of
the beautiful Twinharps, contemplated using a spell to knock her
unconscious.
Instead, he tried for more diplomatic means, even though this hadn't
worked on her the last ten times. "Miss, I cannot permit *anyone* to get
to the Twinharps. Not even Lord Sarvas, in case of impostors and other
such plots," he explained patiently, and was awarded with another fierce
shake.
Lark forced a smile. "You don't understand. I am LARK — L-A-R-K the famous
musician, the *most* celebrated musician in all the history of Atlantis! I
don't blame you for not knowing me; you must become awfully sheltered
living here in the palace all day. But naturally, news of my sheer talent
did reach the King, even in the midst of his... less important matters. I
am an *honored* guest, invited personally by the royal family!" She shook
him again. "You hear? They'd *want* me to play those harps!"
"They said no one, miss. I believe that includes you."
Pale brown eyes, almost amber in color, glared up at him. "I am not 'no
one', baby. C'mon. The public is practically *begging* for a performance!"
The poor guard noted that anyone who was noticing the girl at all were
moving swiftly away from her. "I take my job very seriously, miss. When
they say no one is allowed to approach the Twinharps, I make sure no one
approaches the Twinharps."
Lark was down to her most undignified ploys. Still, this was war, and
tough times called for tough measures. "Pretty pretty pretty please?"
"I will use violent force if necessary, miss. This is a warning."
"Oh yeah? Who do you think would last longer?" Lark shot back at him. The
guard sighed helplessly, for he was one of the king's royal guards,
therefore extremely proficient in magic, while the girl was obviously not
very skilled in magic. Heavens, her subtle little charm spells that had
been working since the beginning of this conversation were almost
shamefully easy to block.
"Starting fights with overenthusiastic musicians is not in my job
description."
Lark quickly glanced around them with a conspiratorial air. "Okay, man,
you drive a hard bargain. Fine then. I've got money. How much do you want?
Hmmmmm?"
The guard gritted his teeth. "I will not be bribed."
"Can I just look at it close-up? Pleeeeease?"
"No."
"I won't touch."
"...No."
"You paused there!" Lark exclaimed. She smirked at him. "Which means you
must've been contemplating it, weren't you?"
"I was merely taking a breath, required if I were to continue civilly. And
no."
"I'm really serious about the money thing."
"And I'm really serious about the guarding thing."
"Honestly."
"Don't you have anything better to do, miss?"
It was obvious that Lark was not going to make any progress with one, who
was far too high-minded and lacked a spirit of adventure. Or an
appreciation for the fine arts. Might as well take defeat gracefully.
"Give me the last word and I'll leave you alone," she replied.
Looking relieved, he nodded silently.
Lark stepped away from him slowly. "Just don't expect any favors from me
in the future."
The guard watched her until she walked backwards and disappeared into the
social throng, making certain she'd make no more attempts to seize the
prized treasures.
The talk with Marduk now completed, Raaja returned to his manner for last minute preparations. Last minute preparations for this particular socialite often took upwards of three hours, and only on occasions when Raaja was forced to 'rough it'. However, he had plenty of time, and put it to good use, as he was determined to look his best at a gala of this high class. Finally, in the early evening, he was done, after going through countless outfits, countless hairstyles, countless pieces of jewelry, and countless types of make-up. He had finally settled on a sort of suit-like robe, a long blue silk coat, fastened at the neck with an ornate golden broach, which covered a black tunic and slacks, and high-heeled leather boots. His hair was drawn back into a simple ponytail, and a slight amount of violet liner was drawn across his eyelids. He was ready.
Dragging Mirak by the arm, who was wearing a dressy black robe, perhaps something his master wore in his youth, Raaja departed on their way. The journey was short, as Raaja kept residence in this highly aristocratic district of Atlantis. Along the way, he spoke to his servant in a quick, harsh tone.
"You know the routine Mirak. I can't be everywhere at once, much as I'd like to be. Wander around until you come about some juicy bits of gossip, and move on when it becomes boring. I recommend the older wives, widows, and any servants they have brought along, as those wastes of flesh have nothing better to do then to exchange secrets with one another. And, PLEASE, do not try to mingle. No one cares about you, nor what you have to say. If someone tries to strike up conversation, don't bother wasting your time, just devise some excuse to get yourself out of such a dismal situation."
"Don't worry, master," Mirak replied in a subservient, yet almost loving tone. "I've been through this many times. I know what sorts of rumours you like to hear, and I'll be sure to find some excellent examples."
"Be sure you do." Raaja concluded, just as the two arrived at the reception hall. As their names were announced upon entry, several women, and even a few men, ended conversations mid-sentence as they moved quickly to greet the new arrival, surrounding him like a swarm of bees. Raaja laughed merrily, putting on his best social visage, and greeted them one by one, often flirting here and there, sometimes leaning in to whisper something complimentary, playful, or scandalous. Mirak went straight to work, diving quickly into the crowd.
Finally able to tear himself away from his flock, Raaja began strolling about the hall, seemingly making casual observances. In reality, however, he was ensuring that everything had been properly prepared as had been planned, and made special note of the beautiful ice sculptures, running a finger along the base of one. If anyone had been looking, though Raaja had made certain that none were, they might have noticed this particular sculpture's eyes tilt down to look at the man, the very faintest of grins appearing on its icy lips.
Satisfied, Raaja went to work on what was, of course, a necessity for any social gathering of this sort - a prime target to work his charms upon. It was then that he spotted the young red-haired lady, and her aunts, just as they were forcing some nobleman's son upon her. He watched curiously for a moment, first at the aunts, then at the girl as she skillfully separated herself from the unworthy suitor, before grinning happily.
And, with that, he made his way over to The Aunts, determined to make a properly extravagant introduction.
x
