“May I present, Ceridwen Starhawk Cadenza, Son of Evander Featherdash Cadenza and Beira Snowgleam Cadenza!” The voice of House Cadenza’s butler calls out from the balcony in front of the curtain, and the velvet cloth is pulled apart from either side.
Alright... This is it... Keep your cool, just keep your cool. Ceridwen hopes nopony notices him swallowing from nervousness, as he blinks in the bright lights of the ballroom. Dozens of ponies fill the polished floor, all dressed in a variety of elaborate styles.
None quite as good as Seren’s work, though. Ceridwen internally allows himself a smug sense of prideful satisfaction at the thought. Though technically more complicated, there is a certain sense of sameness among the others dresses that all the elaborate embroidery in the world can’t compensate for, compared to the unique silhouettes and striking, if simpler, designs Seren always put forth. Besides of which, her work is not nearly as restrictive to movement, something Ceridwen greatly appreciates.
Slowly-almost painfully slowly-the pegasus struts out towards the rail of the balcony alongside his father, doing his best to keep his head held high and walk with reasonable grace. Keeping his gaze fixed relatively upwards not only keeps his chin up, but also helps pretend that there aren’t dozens upon dozens of ponies staring directly at him.
Alright, just like rehearsed. Let’s do this. Halting at the edge of a balcony, Starhawk starts by bowing down low, thankfully getting to close his eyes and pretend he isn’t surrounded, splaying his midnight-toned wings out, curving upwards gently forming an arc with himself at the base. The otherwise deafening silence of the chamber is filled with polite clapping, and then it’s time for the aristocrat to complete the routine.
Leaping up from the balcony, the pegasus swings his wings down with a blast of wind, twisting acrobatically in midair before soaring into an aerial loop. Despite his misgivings, a hint of a cocky smile does find his face. For just a moment, he’s able to understand his sister’s love for showing off. Opening his eyes once more, the ponies below appear so much smaller and less intimidating from high up in the air. Swooping down, he thunders down to the ground, striking the ground with a hefty impact that rattles the entire room like a tiny earthquake.
Is... Is that it? Did I do well? Anxiously, he looks around. The masks of absolute politeness make it impossible to tell how anypony around him is actually feeling. How typical. I wish they’d just say what they’re thinking, no matter what it might be.
“This year shall mark my son's first appearance at the annual Premier Prancing Promenade.” Evander’s voice booms from the balcony where Ceridwen had come from. “And not a day too early, for he has reached the respectable age of 16 years of age. Many of you will know him by his scholarly work, being the youngest member of our family to ever publish a research paper!” The stallion did not feel the need to mention he was also the only member of the family to ever do such a thing, seemingly, nor that Seren was also credited as a co-author. “But my son is a stallion of many talents, something I am sure you will all learn throughout the night.”
That’s probably the nicest thing he’ll ever say about me. Ceridwen ponders internally. Still, none of it is a lie; Starhawk’s interests extend far beyond the domains of his observatory. Really, the only limitation is the amount of time he has to split between all of them.
At the moment, however, surrounded by yet another round of polite clapping, Ceridwen’s only interest is anxiously waiting for Seren’s introduction to take the attention off of him. What am I supposed to do now, I landed and I’m in the middle but nothing else has happened… Starhawk has just been standing there, doing his best to look appropriately dignified, but the awkwardness is definitely starting to get to him. Unwilling to stay in place any longer, he places one hoof in front of the other, walking forwards towards the crowd and turning around to watch the next part of the event.
“And of course, presenting the eldest twin and heiress of house Cadenza, Seren Ardorwynn Cadenza!” The clapping of hooves is noticeably louder and less polite now, a number of stallions off to the sides jeering excitedly and leaning over to whisper probably-crude jokes in each other's ears. Ceridwen can’t help but glare over at them for the indignity.
Seren, hoof in hoof with her father, struts up to the edge of the balcony just like her brother had. Surveying the small sea of aristocrats staring up at her with a variety of expressions-Envy, interest, lust, and earnest interest-the unicorn can, for just a moment, understand her brother's apprehension regarding crowds.
But that feeling is overpowered by the swelling of pride in her heart. This is your time. Time to show them all what you’re capable of! Strutting up onto the balcony, the unicorn leaps over the side, horn lighting up as each hoof makes contact with a block of solidified light just in time, allowing her to prance down a luminous stair of her own making through midair until she reaches the center of the ballroom. As soon as she reaches the ground, she whips her mane back and raises one hoof in a pose, smiling coquettishly at the crowd.
“It has been some time since my beloved daughter has made an appearance at the Promenade, but I am sure you all remember her last appearance. Then, she was a mere 13 years of age, scarcely old enough to join us. But as you can see, she has blossomed into an elegant and respectable mare of 16 years.” Evander begins, standing regally at the top of the balcony addressing the crowd. “She has excelled in her studies and competes with our fiercest knights in sparring, while also becoming a skilled tailor and couture in her own right. She is truly the pride and joy of House Cadenza, and an invaluable asset in maintaining the peace of the realm.”
The clapping that follows is decidedly more energetic than that which Ceridwen had received. Oh well. It’s not like you’re here for praise, anyways. Ceridwen ponders to himself. For now, he has a dance to redeem.
Strutting up to his sister, Ceridwen forces a smile, trying to just focus on her to ignore all of the other strangers around, who had now begun to return to their socializing as the music picked up again.
Multiple stallions are already lining up to take Seren’s hoof, but the mare is true to her word. With the absolute epitome of a polite smile on her face, she lightly bows her head to the newest suitor. “Although I would love to take you up on your offer, I am afraid my first dance is already spoken for. Perhaps after that, I can see if I can make time?” Turning her head to the side, she smiles at Ceridwen. “Shall we?”
Ceridwen offers a grateful smile back to the gracious before him. His sister could certainly be a pain sometimes, trying to drag him out to events and could be a poor sport on the uncommon occasion she lost one of their sparring matches, but on a day like this there is nopony else he would rather have with him. He knew he’d have to commit to awkward dances with strangers eventually, but he would like to delay that moment as long as possible.
The stallion mutters something and walks away in disappointment as the Cadenza siblings take each other's talons and meld into the dance floor. The familiar routine-Seren had been his premier dance partner while learning, after all, so he is quite familiar with the process-did much to ease Ceridwen’s nerves, permitting him to just focus on the classical steps rather than the party around him.
Of course the dance itself is not much to his taste, far, far, far too slow for his liking. Ever since he’d ascended to become a pegasus, he’d found rapid motion far more to his liking than this slow-dance stuff. Ah well, that's the problem with formal events. Well, one of the problems. I still can’t fathom how Seren likes these things.
By contrast, Seren sways to the music with stars in her eyes, keenly aware of all the various eyes on her, and basking in the attention. Not that that is unique to just her; Though not as popular, Ceridwen is perfectly aware that different ponies are watching him as well. Aristocrats sizing him up, trying to judge him from what little they had seen.
Just keep your calm. The more nervous you are, the worse it’ll be. You need to keep your feelings carefully under wraps. The thought is hardly productive, since it only makes him nervous about feeling nervous. Unlike his sister across from him; despite their fathers advice, Ceridwen can readily tell Seren is making no attempt to hide her own emotions, earnestly playful as usual.
Step, one, two, step, one, two. Just like rehearsed. Ceridwen keeps himself calm by focusing on the actions of the dance. With any luck, the musician would change to something more energetic soon and he could justify breaking into something a little faster. Maybe get a chance to stretch his wings a little. At least he can still use his wing as part of some flourishes in this dance, such as when Seren twirls in place on her hind hooves, underneath his outstretched wing.
There is one major detriment to this plan of dancing with his sister, however; The more the two of them dance the more eyes they seem to attract, and Ceridwen can’t help but notice that not all of them are fixed solely on Seren. Enough so that, it's almost with a sense of relief that Ceridwen releases his sister's talons at the conclusion of the song.
With a bow of her head, Seren respectfully steps back. “It’s been a pleasure, my dear Ceri. But I’m afraid I’d best find a new partner for the next song. You should try to meet someponies while you’re here, too, who knows, you might just hit it off!” She tries to offer him a reassuring smile, just before she is promptly swept up in the tide of eager stallions seeking to claim a dance.
Well, that’s my escape gone. Pondering for a moment, Ceridwen begins moving towards the hors d’oeuvres; at least getting a snack would make him look busy for a moment, and alleviate the tension of simply standing awkwardly on the dance floor without a partner.
Surveying the concessions table, a small frown tugs at the edges of his mouth. It would probably be expected of him to drink some of the wine, and being viewed as having unrefined tastes would likely upset father. Thankfully, he did have the home field advantage. Striding up to the bar, he leans over to speak to the bartender, one of the Cadenza family's numerous servants. “I’ll have a martini, if you please.” Lowering his voice so as to speak at a volume only the bartender could hear, he continues in a lower tone. “Water it down as much as you can without anypony noticing.”
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The bartender rolls his eyes but does not comment on the request. “At once, sir.” The bartender turns around to bark some orders at one of the servants working at the bar. A light of familiarity lights up in Ceridwen’s eyes as the drink is brought out to him, and the gryph’s beak quirks in the closest approximation of a smile that a gryph could manage.
“Saoirse! I didn’t know you would be working on the ball floor.” Ceridwen greets, happy to have a momentary distraction from the proceedings around him.
The servant across the counter from him grumbles, glancing down at the drink she’d just delivered with disdain. “Hmph. Apparently the guest list was large enough that they wanted multiple ponies to manage the drinks. Something about it being proper for appearances to seem well staffed. I’ll never understand you aristocrats fascination with poisoning yourselves.” The servant snorts derisively. “Still, for once I think I prefer my position to yours. I can’t imagine having to play nice with all of these.” Saoirse’s gaze flits across the sea of polite aristocrats with undisguised contempt.
Ceridwen giggles softly in response. “Ah, you never change.” Saoirse was rather outspoken in her disdain for the aristocracy and particularly her own position as a servant; she’d almost certainly have been executed or banished or somesuch by now if not for the twins constantly bailing her out. “Can’t say I feel any different though… Ugh.” Ceridwen groans, leaning over to speak in a quiet tone. “I can’t get out of this, but you could. What do you say I give you a job someplace else so you can ditch this crowd?” Ceridwen offers. “Dare I say… The library?”
Saoirse’s eyes light up in surprise and delight. “Really? I mean…” A sense of wariness overtakes her features, one that Ceridwen had only recently started to get used to on the servants face. “...This isn’t a trap is it? I know how you aristocrats love your damned mind games.”
Ceridwen winces at the lack of trust the servant showed him. It hadn’t always been like that; as colts and fillies they’d played together as essentially equals. But Saoirse had grown increasingly ambivalent ever since Ceridwen and Seren’s ascensions to pegasus and unicorn respectively. “Come on Saoirse, you know I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m still the same pony you’ve always known.” Ceridwen pleads. “Just tell anypony you see that I instructed you to clean up my observatory for an event later. I’ll back it up. Alright?”
Saoirse’s cautious expression slowly gives way and she nods. “...Alright.”
“Oh, and Saoirse?” Ceridwen tacks on. “Do me a favor and don’t try to run off today. The guards on high alert, and Seren and I won’t be around to bail you out this time.”
Saoirse scowls in response, looking away. “It’s not like I ever asked for the help anyways…” she mutters, stepping back from the counter. Ceridwen watches as she goes and speaks to the barkeep, before sighing and shaking his head. Everything had just gotten so much more complicated since colthood, huh?
Almost as if right on cue, another pony approaches the counter, a young unicorn mare perhaps a year younger than Ceridwen himself by the looks of it. She must have been from the west, given her exotic appearance; a curved horn almost like an antler coupled with a scaly underbelly.
“A pleasure to meet you.” She begins cordially, with a peculiar if refined accent Starhawk had certainly never heard before. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Victoria Silvershine of House Estling. Might I beg you for a dance?” The unicorn’s voice is less steady than her words might suggest, hesitating slightly between syllables as if trying to remember the correct words.
Although he feels somewhat less than at ease, the offer at least would spare him the indignity of looking for a partner for himself, so Ceridwen bobs his head up and down in agreement.
Alright, think, try to remember etiquette classes. After only a brief pause, Starhawk responds, “It would be my pleasure, milady. Allow me to introduce myself in turn, I am Ceridwen Starhawk of House Cadenza.” Everypony in the building already knew that, obviously; reintroducing himself is simply a formality. These things had long been refined by the aristocracy to almost a ritual.
Offering a taloned hoof to his partner, Ceridwen reluctantly steps out onto the ballroom floor. The song playing now is still a little lethargic by Ceridwen’s standards but it's at least not quite as slow as the one he’d danced with Seren too, more of a smooth, upbeat tune. In a way, it almost felt too casual for the event.
Even if the song is slightly more appropriate to Ceridwen’s general tastes, though, the dance is undeniably clumsier; perhaps that is to be expected, since he is dancing with a stranger rather than a partner he was used to. Forcing himself to open his mouth, he makes his best attempt at small talk, but his mind is entirely elsewhere.
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“Well, it has been a pleasure, sir Eiru.” Seren crosses her legs and bows her head in a respectful gesture to the stallion who had just served as her dance partner. “I should hope we may have a chance to speak more, after the ball.”
The stallion, an older noble from the north, bows his head in reply. “It would be my honor. As for now, I think I shall avail myself of the refreshments.”
Seren gives a smile-a polite, but all too genuine smile, perhaps out of place in the sea of carefully masked expressions-to the departing stallion as she leans back against the wall, awaiting the next song to begin. Of course, she barely gets a moment of rest before another of her myriad suitors finds her.
“Milady, might I borrow a moment of your time?” The deep, velvety voice of yet another stallion asks her. Glancing over, she is confronted by the sight of a muscular, well-built unicorn with a pristine black coat and strawberry colored hair. “I know your time is precious, as surely a mare as beautiful as you has many ardent admirers, but I must say that I am honored to count myself among them. Might I trouble you for a dance?”
Seren purses her beak to hide the self-confident smirk that was growing there; perhaps the somewhat alien appearance of a gryph to other ponish races was an advantage, at times. “Enchanté. Might I know the name of my partner, before we begin?” She inquires, stepping out from the wall and crossing in front of the stallion.
Bowing his head steeply, the unicorn crosses his hoof over his chest. “Elias Rosewine of house Powell, milady. The greatest of pleasures to make your acquaintance.”
“Seren Ardorwynn, of house Cadenza.” Seren gives the customary reply, as the musicians begin their next song. A broad smile spreads across her face as she hears the first chords of viola and piano pick up. She knows this song, it was one of her favorites, and she knows the dance that goes alongside it by heart. “I share the sentiment. Now, shall we?”
Hoof in hoof, the pair of dancers make their way out to the open floor, Seren seeking out a spot where there is plenty of room for movement. Thankfully that is not difficult to find, since with several songs already gone by, many ponies have retired to the refreshments table or are gossiping in corners. Still, plenty of eyes are on the duo as Seren sizes up her dance partner.
It's a good thing that the both of them are fit specimens, because this dance in particular is far more exhilarating than the previous ones, complete with fanciful twirls, jumps, and more elaborate moves that required fine precision and balance. Thankfully for Seren, her partner seems quite competent, as she leans back on just one hoof gracefully with the stallion's presence helping stabilize her.
Such is the energy of the motion, however, that the two barely speak for the duration of the dance, instead caught up in the frenetic motions. Shame Ceri isn’t out here, I’m sure he’d enjoy this dance more than the last. Seren ponders internally; her twin might not have as much taste for refinement as her, but he certainly enjoyed a good bout of energetic movement.
When the song finally starts to wind down and Seren falls back down onto all four hooves, she is breathing heavily from exertion, but the shine sparkling in her eyes has certainly not faded one bit.
“Well… You’re certainly a… energetic dancer!” Rosewine huffs out between breaths, equally as exerted. “Perhaps… We might… Take a short rest and seek some refreshments?”
Seren nods. She hadn’t left the dance floor since the ball had begun, and her throat is starting to feel awful dry.
Hoof in hoof, Rosewine leads Seren to the bar, where he leans over the counter. “A vodka martini for me, and this fine maiden beside me.”
That was not exactly what Seren would have picked, but correcting the stallion feels rude, so she decides to just roll with it. “So, how are things out in Hyperaustralis? That is where you’re from, right?” She asks cordially while she waits for the beverage. She already knew the answer of course, she knew where every noble family in the room came from, but it was a suitable ice breaker.
“Oh, you know how it is. It’s been all quiet for the last few years. A welcome change of pace, to be sure.” Rosewine replies smoothly. “The natives seem to have largely accepted their lot in life by now. Our territory has seen the greatest economic growth in the confederation in the last couple years!” He boasts, as the two beverages arrive. Seren reaches for one, but Rosewine takes them both before she can grab it, shuffling his hooves in front of the glasses to thoroughly mix them; the action draws Seren’s attention, leaving her to not notice the silent ignition of his horn. Soon enough, he slides one of the glasses over to her.
Seren takes the drink and comment in stride, nodding her head along. “I’m sure the fresh air must be nice down south. There’s a lot of forest there, right? I’ve lived in the city all my life, so I’ve barely ever seen any real wilderness.” She smiles a little melancholically at the stallion.
Rosewine barely manages to avoid snorting contemptuously, instead offering a charming smile. “I suppose I’m having a similar experience, the bustle of the city is new to me. We have prosperous towns of course, but nothing as great as the jewel of the south, here.” He pauses his dialogue to pointedly take a drink, prompting Seren to do the same. “And here you are, the brightest gem in the room. I’m sure you’ve had your share of suitors by now?”
Seren blushes in response. “I-I’m afraid not, but then again, I haven’t been able to attend as many formal events as I would like in recent times.” She confesses. “I have been enjoying the company of your peers this fine afternoon, but as this is my formal debut, I have yet to receive any proposals.”
“Ah, so you’re saying I still have a chance?” Rosewine smiles confidently as he takes another drink. “You should know milady, every stallion in this chamber was smitten with you on sight. I would have to imagine you will soon be drowning in more proposals than you would know what to do with. But I should hope you might consider my own, should it come to that?” Surreptitiously, he places one of his hooves upon hers and leans in closer.
Seren feels her cheeks heating up further. Why was she feeling so flustered? She should have been prepared for conversations like this, but instead, she feels... Theres a sensation like a deep heat inside of her, and she feels her heart beating faster. “W-Well, mr. Rosewine, I’m afraid I don’t know what to say!” Seren’s careful mannerisms slip.
“Then say nothing at all, dear Seren. I am more than content to simply bask in your presence.” Elias Rosewine states, sliding closer still. “I must count myself as the luckiest stallion here, to have the pleasure of your company.”
Seren’s mind goes blank, her thoughts scrambling. A vague sense of ominousness tugs at the very fringe of her mind, but it is too distant to put a hoof on. Wasn’t there something she was supposed to be careful of? Oh, it was probably nothing. “Y-you’re too kind, sir Rosewine! I am sure my conversation cannot be that enticing.” She giggles, swaying on her hooves.
Rosewine gives her a concerned look; in her current state, she does not notice the self-confident smirk hiding underneath it. “Milady, is something the matter? You seem a tad out of sorts.”
“I-I’ll be fine. I think I just need to... lay down.” Seren stammers out, stumbling on her hooves. Lie down. Yes, that sounded good. There are far too many ponies in here, too many eyes on her. How could she handle it? As flattered as she feels, it is also a lot of pressure…