Saoirse Starshot delicately places and nudges the latest finery down onto one of the long tables that belonged to the Cadenza family with a sigh. The servants' hooves feel sore from hours of scrubbing and ensuring every inch of the palace was immaculate, and no break was forthcoming; on the contrary, as guests slowly began to stream into the palace, a servants job was only liable to get more demanding.
Blinking her tired eyes, Saoirse yawns. She’d hoped that the festivities of the upcoming promenade would serve as a distraction, make it a little easier to liberate a book or two from the library while nopony was watching, maybe practice the ritual arts in preparation for another escape attempt. Running away now was out of the question, of course; the guards are on high alert to protect the aristocratic guests (from each other, as much as anything else).
At any rate, that was not at all how the event was going; Instead of serving as a distraction, it seemed that everypony was seeking her out to get something or another done. Speaking of which, her brief reverie is shattered when she hears a voice calling out her name. The servant bolts upright and whirls around, before breathing a sigh of relief as she sees it is not the headsmare of the estate ready to punish her for slacking off, but rather the beaked face of one Seren Ardorwynn greeting her, one of the two children of the Cadenza dynasty whom she had grown up alongside.
There is a gleam in Seren’s eye and a bounce in her step as she approaches the servant pony. The majority of ponies who didn’t belong to that specific subspecies of pony found the beaked, owl-like faces of gryph’s like Seren alien and inscrutable, but to Saoirse who had grown up alongside her, the bubbly excitement in the avian ponies expression is writ clear.
“What do you need, Seren?” Saoirse’s voice betrays a smidge of dread at the question, which would together with the overtly casual manner of the question would normally have warranted disciplining for a lowborn, magicless blank like herself. But Seren simply takes it in stride, as usual; Proper or no, formalities had long since ceased between this particular servant and aristocrat.
“I still haven’t seen Hawky all day, and it’s getting to around the time we need to go and get ready.” Seren affirms, referring to her brother's nickname in an equally casual manner. “I’m sure mother will want to talk to us when she gets back, could you let her know we’ll be getting ready up at my room if you see her?”
Saoirse breathes a sigh of relief; that wasn’t more chores to contend with, thankfully. Besides, having a task on hoof would give her a justification to stick around and not be assigned more jobs. So, she responds with a quick nod. “Of course. I’ll let her know as soon as I see her.”
Seren offers a warm smile to the servant and briefly offers an awkward hug which surely would have caused something of a scandal if any of the guests had seen. “Thanks, Saoirse.”
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“Drat! I know I had it, somewhere around here...” Ceridwen Starhawk mutters, running one of his taloned claws through his mane in frustration.
The gryph pegasus is presently holed up in the observatory where he spends most of his time, pulling open one of the many drawers entirely filled up with all manner of technical schematics, mostly sketched with his own hoof. Yet, frustratingly, the object of his current desire-a blueprint for a modified exhaust port-has utterly eluded his greatest attempts to locate it.
Groaning, Ceridwen slouches back, staring up at the massive glass dome topping his current abode a dozen meters up. The building had originally been used for astronomical observations, but at present had been utterly taken over by the gryph as his own makeshift workshop. Discarded prototypes and sketches litter the ground, rendering the entire chamber rather a walking hazard. Not that that is any problem to a pony perfectly capable of flight, of course.
Sighing, Ceridwen flaps his wings and rushes into the air, fluttering up to the circular window high up on the wall opposite the entrance, slumping into a halfway upside down position, his neck and head resting on the base of the cylinder formed by the windowsill while his hind legs haphazardly rest against the upward slope of the aperture. “Guess I’ll just have to try and remember it and make it again from scratch...”
The pegasids musings are interrupted when the door to the observatory is enveloped in a deep blue aura and swings open. The beaked face of one Seren Ardorwynn, his twin sister, peaks into the chamber. “Ha, I thought I’d find you in here. I don’t suppose there’s any chance you’re getting ready, is there?” The gryph unicorn's expression makes it abundantly clear that she is not under any illusions that Ceridwen is, in fact, getting ready for… Whatever it was he was supposed to be getting ready for.
Scrunching up his face, Ceridwen slides into a sitting up position. Just what is it now...? Rolling forwards, he plummets from his perch, rolling in midair to land on all four claws before his sister. “Eheheh...” Ceridwen rubs the back of his head, sheepishly, as he scans his brain to try and figure out what he is getting ready for. What day is it today? The first of spring? There was something going on on that day, wasn't there..? Squinting, he blows a huff of air out. “Uhm, of course! ...What was I getting ready for again?”
Seren just giggles and shakes her head in bemusement, throwing one leg around her brothers shoulders as she tugs him towards the room's egress. “I’ll never fathom how you’re able to forget things so easily. It’s the Promenade today, don’t you remember? Mom reminded us just yesterday.” Seren points out.
Ceridwen winces, his head drooping. Oh, that’s what he forgot. Or maybe chose to forget, since he’d much rather not have to deal with it. He’d managed to get out of it on previous years, since the event was being hosted in some of the other lordships, but this year it is House Cadenza’s turn to host the annual event, when all the duchies of the Īweriū Confederation met for a formal ball. Of course, the party itself is only secondary to its true purpose, a chance for the different duchies to politick and discuss policy, but thankfully Ceridwen doesn’t have to deal with that part just yet. “Oh. Right. That.” Ceridwen groans, voice tinged with despair.
“Oh, come now, Hawky, it’s not so bad.” Seren offers sympathetically as she latches one taloned claw around one of his legs and drags him off down the hall. “We’re sure to be the stars of the show tonight! Who knows, maybe you’ll meet somepony special?”
Ceridwen shudders with contempt. His sister might be excited at the prospect of courtship, but he would far prefer to stay locked up in his observatory. “Blech.” he sticks out his tongue from behind his beak, distastefully. “At any rate, I suppose Mom sent you to fetch me?”
Seren shakes her head. “Nope! I’m here all on my own before she had time to ask me to fetch you so I could have plenty of time to work my magic.” She affirms with a cheerful nod, and a gleam in her eye. “Don’t you worry, you’re in good hooves. I’ll make sure you look smashing, you’ll be the apple of every mare’s eye by the time I’m done with you.”
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Ceridwen doesn’t doubt her in the slightest; perhaps in part, that’s what concerns him. He can’t get out of one of his sister’s infamous makeovers, now; he’d just have to grit his beak and bear with it. “Let's just get this over with.” He responds dryly.
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“Aaaand, done! What do you think, Hawky?” Seren cheers as she steps back clapping her hooves together.
Ceridwen Starhawk huffs out a breath of relief, exhausted from the travails of enduring a fitting session for the white tailcoat he is being forced to wear, studded with sapphires that match the deep ocean blue of his mane and eyes, the moderate length of his normally flared upwards mane now neatly coiffed, trimmed, and combed. At least he got to keep the waves of mane that curl back around his neck.
Even so, he has to admit, he does look good, even if the process to get there is a pain. His midnight coat, all brushed out now, has a nice glossy sheen that nicely complements the violet-blue wingfeathers that Seren had thoroughly preened and straightened out. The wavy back of his mane just snakes around the fringes of his neck a little, framing his face nicely, though he would have preferred if his bangs could still be forward. Not ‘proper’ enough, he guesses. “I guess I look alright.” Starhawk reluctantly admits.
Seren smirks, twirling the brush in her magic before placing it firmly against the counter. Whatever humility she might feign, to a pony who had grown up around her it is plain to see the self-confident pride behind it. “Well, I for one think you look positively dashing. You’re sure to be the envy of all the other stallions at the promenade.”
“Unlikely, since all their eyes are going to be on you.” Ceridwen mutters sullenly. Wasn’t much point in envying the brother of the most eligible bachelorette, after all, since he isn’t exactly their ‘competition’. Ceridwen can’t help but notice the edges of Seren’s beak twitching upwards in satisfaction at the observation, basking in subtle pride over her ensemble.
Shimmering white silk studded with sapphires brings out the blue in her eyes that she shares with her brother, perfectly complementing her coat. Where most nobles opted for increasingly elaborate and often impractical dresses, makeup, and horseshoes, Seren generally preferred striking, vivid colors and deceptively simple designs; Her current outfit is no exception, the flaps at the rear split and curved in a similar fashion to Ceridwen’s tailcoat, making it resemble more of a hybrid between the formal styles of male and female dress than anything traditional.
Her mane is all made up into a series of elegant curls, the flowing back of her mane, normally tied up neatly into a functional ponytail, is instead braided into elaborate forms that her brother cannot help but feel is less appealing than her normal look. Fancy doesn’t always mean better, after all, simplicity often has its own aesthetic appeal.
“Oh Hawky, you flatter me.” She playfully bumps into Ceridwen from the side. “One can only hope. For now, we’d best get ready, we don’t have much more time before your debut!”
Ceridwen Stormhawk shuts his eyes tightly and takes a deep breath. Unlike Seren by his side, he isn’t looking forward to the oncoming event of awkward small talk with strangers and needing to put on his best behavior for hours on end. As if being pulled away from his studies wasn’t bad enough.
“Are you two about done in there?” The muffled voice of one Beira Snowgleam calls from outside the dressing room, signifying the arrival of the duo’s mother.
“Of course, mother!” Seren replies, pulling back the curtain and prancing out to greet her mother,, obviously eager to show off her look. “How do I look?”
Strolling out after her, Ceridwen frowns; although his mother is smiling, there is a subtle hint of sadness in her eyes as she observes her daughter. “Beautiful as always, dear. You’re sure to catch everyponies eye.” The unicorn's face grows more somber and serious as she places a hoof on Seren’s shoulder. “Just... Be careful. Try to remember that not every dashing stallion is exactly what he seems, and everypony in there has their own ulterior motives. Be cautious, don’t let yourself be swept off your hooves. Remain vigilant and whatever you do, don’t let any of them get you alone with them.” Seren blinks at her, seemingly surprised at the shift in tone.
But before anypony can respond, Snowgleam turns to Ceridwen, giving the pegasus an encouraging smile. “And my, I see your sister did as fine a job on you as ever. You’ve grown into quite the fetching young stallion. I know this isn’t your preferred way to spend your afternoon, but do try to have fun. It is a party, after all, and you’ll be meeting lots of new ponies.”
Starhawk laughs awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Eheh... Right...” He remarks with a decided lack of enthusiasm.
The two siblings’ mother takes a step back as she addresses both of her children. “Well. You should know, at your debut, your father will be presenting you. I know you two haven’t seen him in a long time, but just remember... Make sure you are on your best behavior. And... Be careful around him.” With that ominous warning out of the way, the unicorn mare turns on her hindhoof and motions with her head forwards. “Come now, it is high time we met up with him.”
Seren and Ceridwen cast worried glances at each other. It had been unclear in the days leading up to the event if the lord duke would, in fact, show up, given how little time he spent around the castle. Seemingly, he’d managed to finish up his business in the north with characteristic expedience; it isn’t like him to leave work uncompleted, after all. Trotting along after, the two siblings follow along towards the ballroom.
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“Hmm. Good, you both look... Suitable.” The decidedly less familiar face of Evander Featherdash, the twins' father, remarks dispassionately, as his eyes look up and down the two of them.
“Thank you, father.” Seren bows her head respectfully. Keeping her head bowed, her ears flick towards the curtain, listening to the sound of ponies slowly streaming into the ballroom and quiet chatter underneath the sound of a viola slowly playing.
The bare hint of emotion flashes into the pegasus stallion's eyes; a sense of approval. “Good. Observant as ever. Hold onto that, keep your composure but try and read into others behavior as well. Our lineage is counting on you two to form alliances and continue our line, so finding a good match for you two is of vital importance. You want to ensure your partner is hale of body, fertile, and from a respectable and powerful family. Just remember, the rest will be doing the same for you.”
Starhawk does his damnedest to resist wincing, well aware that his father is watching him closely, but seemingly not quite well enough. “Ceridwen Starhawk. Your emotions cannot be so obvious. I know you are uninterested, but you have a duty to your family, and if anypony can tell how you feel it will certainly hurt your prospects.” Evander lectures, every bit as emotionless as he was instructing his son to be.
Clenching his beak, Ceridwen nods. “Yes, Father. I understand.”
Featherdash views his son with an unreadable expression for some time, before sighing. “Well, there isn’t time to work on this. Remind me to assign you more classes on proper etiquette, later. Now, I must go and greet the guests. I shall return to you when it is time for the promenade to start, properly.” Standing upright into a formal stance, and without waiting for a response, Featherdash trots through the velvet curtain to the large open chamber.
Ceridwen lets out a deep breath and collapses down onto his barrel. “Ugh, today is going to be exhausting...” Shutting his eyes tightly, he crosses his talons over his muzzle, bracing himself for the long night ahead of him.
Seren eyes him with a look somewhere between pity, empathy, and frustration. Try as she might, she can never quite understand her brother's apparent dread at these kinds of events. “Hey now, don’t be too upset. Maybe you’ll meet somepony who shares your interests?” When that doesn't work to cheer up the young stallion, she prods him on the shoulder. “C’mon, I know you like reading, but you gotta get out and about sometimes too. I’ll tell you what, I’ll make sure to save you a dance.”
Ceridwen can’t help but blush at the thought of dancing in front of so many ponies. He had enjoyed the lessons he was given previously; getting out into the world and moving was an excellent source of creative inspiration. But doing the same in front of so many others... Still, it would be less stressful if he at least knew his partner. Wincing up at her hopefully, he gives a crooked half-smile. “...The first dance?”
Seren just giggles and stretches her legs. “If that’s what you want!”
Starhawk smiles back at her, reassured, and pulls himself up to his hooves. “Well, guess I’d better limber up before I go out there. Father will want to make sure I look good.”