Chapter One Hundred and Forty-One - Broccoli is to Ceremony as Bulls are to China Shops

Right after a late lunch and Rosaline’s triumphant return from work, Clementine pulled everyone into the lounge and sat us all down on a row of couches.

Rosaline looked like she hadn’t hugged anyone in minutes, Awen was fiddling with her thumbs, Amaryllis was bored and Clementine looked like a doctor about to deliver some serious news.

“We need to prepare you for the ball,” Clementine declared most gravely.

“Can I do it?” Rosaline asked.

“No,” she was immediately shot down. Clementine shook her head. “They need to be actually prepared. Not... filled with whatever fanciful ideas you come up with between now and then.”

Rosaline pouted. She pouted hard.

“Fine. You can help them with the dresses and such,” Clementine said, then she raised a wing to calm Rosaline down before she got too excited. “Later. Let me lay down the rules first.”

“Do you really need to?” Rosaline asked. “The girls are super cute, no one will do anything bad to them!” She leaned to the side and wrapped a wing around Awen, then she reached out and pinched my cheek.

“Hey! No! Awen is the cute one, not me!” I protested.

“Awa!”

“Nu-huh,” Rosaline said. “You’re both adorable! And you’ll be more adorable-er once I get you all dressed up!”

Amaryllis sighed. “Rose, do stop molesting Broccoli.”

“Aw-what about me?” Awen squeaked.

“You seem to be enjoying it,” Amaryllis said.

While Rosaline giggled and redoubled her hugging and Awen’s face went thermonuclear, I turned towards Clementine. I had a whole bunch of questions for her.

“So, Clementine, um,” I began. “Why are we going to the ball in the first place? If we’re supposed to be some sort of secret weapon, then wouldn’t it make a lot more sense to not show up at a big public event?”

Clementine nodded, then she nodded to Gen-Gen who stuck his head into the lounge. The butler pushed in a trolly a moment later, one covered in little bite-sized snacks and a big jug of some sort of juice with blocks of ice floating within it.

“It would make sense to keep you hidden,” Clementine said. “If this were the kind of operation where you could show up out of the blue. Unfortunately, it won’t work out that way. For one, the other clans would protest if you just swooped in without even giving them a hint. For another, the Sylphs are... stingy when it comes to... well, anything. The last thing you need is to get arrested by an overzealous paladin because they don’t know who you are.”

“How would they know if we’re at the ball?” I asked.

“There will be some Sylphs in attendance, of course, and they will be sending news back via their bank.”

I pointed to Amaryllis. “Like when she wrote you letters?”

Clementine made an affirmative noise. “Yes. Like when my littlest sister deigned to actually write to us to tell us she wasn’t dead in some ditch somewhere.”

“Okay,” I said over the sound of Amaryllis’ protesting. “So why is there even a diplomatic mission to begin with? Why not just write them a letter and explain everything that way?”

Clementine shook her head. “That’s not how it works. Letters leave too big of a record, there’s less room for back and forths, they also lose part of the home field advantage. You can’t impress a diplomat with your riches and military might if you’re only communicating via letter.”

I scrunched up my nose. “But does that stuff matter?”

Clementine sighed. “It does to the Sylphs and it does to the bigger clans, which means we have to play along. We’re not the Snowlanders who would be more than happy to do business from afar without ever leaving their home.”

In the end there wasn’t much I could say to that. “Okay. So we go to the ball and then we, uh, schmooze with the big rich people and then they’ll be okay with us showing up at the big meeting in the Sylph capital?”

Clementine closed her eyes, set the cup she was in the middle of filling aside, then started to massage her head. “I don’t know how you do it, Amy.”

“You would be surprised at how much endurance I had to build up to her... Broccoli-ness,” Amaryllis said.

I looked between the two. “What?”

“First,” Clementine began. “Never... never use the word schmooze again. I don’t know what it means, and I don’t want to. Second, while referring to the clans as the ‘big rich people’ is technically accurate, it might still insult some of them. Just call them the clans.”

“Alright!” I said.

“You are aware that trying to teach Broccoli here about etiquette is entirely useless, right? The last time she was at a meeting with nobles she kidnapped their daughter,” Amaryllis said. “That is, after she told a countess that her title didn’t matter.”

Clementine took a long sip from her juice, then set it on the tray before turning to Gen-Gen. “Can I have something with more kick?” she asked.

One of the butler’s eyebrows rose up, but he nodded. “Certainly.”

“This is actually really great,” Rosaline said. “We can spend the evening dancing instead, maybe pretend that Broccoli and Awen are just family friends who don’t know any better. They’re so cute and cuddly that no one would suspect anything about them.”

Clementing rubbed at her face. “Yes, I suppose hoping that we appear so stupid as to be overlooked is a stratagem. It’s a stupid stratagem, but I suppose that’s the entire point of it.”

“Great!” Rosaline said. “Okay, so let’s skip straight to the important bit! How to dance!”

“Awesome!” I cheered. “My dancing skill is almost ready to rank up.”

Rosaline hopped up to her feet and skipped to the middle of the room before spinning around. “Okay! I can tell you about all the worst prudes and jerks you’ll want to avoid while teaching you how to dance,” she said.

Clementine tossed her wings up in surrender. “I give up. Rose, do keep in mind that I can make your life a nightmare if you mess this up. But I’ll concede that you’re better at the social aspect of things than I am.”

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Rosaline clapped. “Perfect! Okay, I’ll need a partner.”

“Awen, you should go,” I said to the girl sitting next to me. “I learn better by seeing.” I could practically feel my Matchmaker skill gaining experience.

“Ah? Oh, okay,” Awen said. She stood a bit stiffly, then moved towards Rosaline with small uncertain steps. She curtsied, pinching the sides of her pants as she bowed. “Pl-please be gentle.”

“Only at first,” Rosaline said.

“Huh?” Awen said before Rosaline grabbed her hands in hers.

“We’ll start with the waltz! It’s usually what the evening starts and ends with because it’s an easy enough dance that even the old birds can participate. It’s a great way to see who’s come with who since it’s traditional to dance with the person you came with first. Sometimes boys will dance with an aunt or something too.”

Rosaline asked if Awen knew the steps, which she did. The human waltz and the harpy one were pretty much the same with a few differences. The harpy waltz moved a lot more, and they had more arm flourishes, apparently.

“If you’re dancing with a girl, one of you needs to take the boy’s part,” Rosaline said. “You don’t mind if I lead, do you Awen?”

“N-no, of course not,” Awen said. “You can lead.”

I sat on the edge of my seat as Rosaline and Awen danced in quick little circles around the room. Awen had a bit of trouble at first, but she caught on fast and was soon pressed up against Rosaline as they spun around.

“You look like an idiot,” Amaryllis muttered from beside me. “Wipe that dumb grin off your face or the game will be up.”

I reined in my smile a bit. “It’s not a game,” I whispered back.

Amaryllis’ response was a roll of her eyes.

“What isn’t a game?” Clementine asked. She’d sat herself down on Amaryllis’ other side.

“You’re as blind as ever, oh eldest sister of mine,” Amaryllis shot back.

Clementine glared, then she looked at the two girls dancing together, took in Awen’s blush and the way Rosaline was smiling.

She reached over to the second tray Gen-Gen had brought, pulled the cork off a fancy bottle, and downed a swallow of it. “Not my problem,” she declared.

The dance ended with Rosaline sweeping Awen off her feet and leaning her way, way down so that her blonde hair was touching the floor.

“And that,” Rosaline said as she stood back up and helped Awen to stand. They were both quite flushed. “Was how you waltz. Ah, I was supposed to tell you about people to avoid at the same time.”

“I-it’s okay,” Awen said. “I would have been, um, distracted.”

“Right!” Rosaline cheered. “I think I can list out all the bad influences in the clans.”

“Because you’ve dated all of them?” Amaryllis asked.

“Exactly! I’ve grown to know all of them. I can tell you all about their weird and terrible habits, which ones are handsy when they really ought not, and which ones have all the personality of a rock.”

“Awa, you’re very experienced,” Awen said. She looked like she couldn’t decide whether to be impressed or embarrassed, probably at her own lack of experience.

“Darn right! I’ve dated just about every bachelor and most of the fun bachelorettes in the kingdom!” Rosaline declared.

“Oh, wh-what stopped you from, um, finding someone... right?”

Rosaline shifted from talon to talon. “Well, it wasn’t always the same reason. I got along really well with some, for a bit at least. Sometimes I had good reasons to dump people. Lord Fred I booted out because he was intimidating, for example.”

“Lord Fred isn’t a very intimidating name,” I said.

“Yes Broccoli, you’re right, Broccoli. It’s such an unintimidating name, Broccoli,” Amaryllis said.

“Hey! My name’s not supposed to be intimidating, it’s supposed to be friendly!”

Awen nodded along, but she didn’t seem satisfied with the answer. “S-so many people and you never found anyone you liked?” she asked. “I... sorry. I’m being rude. I’m just worried that... nevermind.”

Rosaline pulled Awen into a sidelong hug, her head dropping to lean against Awen’s. “It’s not that. I just want to find someone that I love, and I never did. They were always after the shipyard, or my family, or my title. The worse ones are those that just dated because they wanted to conquer me for bragging rights.”

“Th-that’s awful!” Awen said. She raised her hands, then lowered them. “Can. Can I give you a... hug?”

I could barely hear the last word, it was so quiet, but I could see the results well enough. Rosaline picked Awen up and spun her around while squishing her close.

Clementine set down her bottle and stared for a bit before leaning closer to me and Amaryllis. “I wonder how long this will last,” she said.

“We’ll see,” Amaryllis said. “I actually have high hopes.”

“Hrmph,” Clementine hrmphed.

I clapped my hands to draw Rosaline’s attention away from squishing Awen’s cheek against hers. Awen looked like she needed a moment to breath and maybe to have her blood circulate somewhere other than in her cheeks and ears. “What else can you teach us about balls and dancing and such?” I asked.

“Oh, there’s all sorts of stuff. The dresses alone will be fun to figure out,” she said. “How someone preens their feathers tells you a lot about them, but you and Awen here are a bit featherless.” She ran a talon through Awen’s long hair. “But this is a lot more fun than feathers! We’ll need to figure it out!”

“There are ways for non-harpy to dress that are considered proper. Usually clothes that have very loose sleeves that simulate wings,” Amaryllis said. “And of course you’ll need to get used to wearing pants for a bit.”

“Aww,” I said. Not that I really minded all that much.

“This is going to be a disaster,” Clementine said.

I don’t think that she understood that that was half the fun.

***