Dreams, nightmares, and Royal Tea etiquette apart, we were finally at the entrance of the Crown Prince's Birthday Gala. What a mouthful.
What an exhaustive day, I mean. And it was far from over. After the meeting with our sponsors' families, it was time to throw us to the wolves. Again, by wolves, I mean the snickering snobs, sons of a court [Lady], the nobles...
What's wrong with me? My mind kept going on a tangent. In retrospect, it was Barbara's anxiety leaking through the familiar link. That must be it because the strength with which she hugged my doll form would break something made of softer stuff.
Ahead of us, Eleanora and Elizabeth stood like wax statues with their families, their heavy makeup would probably solidify into a porcelain mask if allowed to bake in an oven. Isaac was behind us with the good and slightly afraid Margrave. He was still wary of me after our little friendly altercation.
Differently from other epochs, the order of admittance into the venue was tripartite. First, the second echelon of nobles gained entrance and started to make themselves comfortable, while the lower Houses waited in line to be announced and ushered in. Margrave Hamilton should be inside already, but he insisted to escort us. Or to keep an eye on me. Your bet was as good as mine.
The line moved again.
She mentally stuttered and blushed.
Barbara shuddered.
I joked.
It was my turn to roll my mental eyes.
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"Baron Carmine Epps!"
The [Crier] called. Elizabeth and her family strutted into the venue and had their moment of glory as they walked down the stairs into the main ballroom. Barbara squeezed my arm. Odd. Having limbs and head, I mean. A few minutes later, they called the "Dame Katina of House Cheverton," and Eleanora's mother led her family inside.
Barbara scuttled forward and stopped before the stone-faced [Royal Guard] knights blocking the entrance. The [Crier] looked down on us (both literally and figuratively) but resumed his professional demeanor after a brief scowl.
Isaac cleared his throat to mask his chuckle. How sweet of him to think I was joking.
Our time arrived. The [Crier] took three steps into the grand staircase hallway, and shouted, "Dame Barbara of House Ambrose, and The Netherbane Syllabus!"
The knights took a half-step to the side, opening a gap. Barbara didn't move. She stared at the [Crier], then at the [Royal Guard] armor.
I whispered into her head.
My patronizing tone got a rise out of the halfling girl. She protested.
"Dame Ambrose, if you please?" The crier asked.
Shaking, Barbara walked forward. "I wasn't born for such places," she reluctantly mumbled and grumbled.
Delighted, I imagined her saying the same words thousands of years ago but with black cat ears and a tail. Lorna's Game was one worth playing. I didn't even mind not remembering everything. It left a lot of room to rediscover some feelings, it evened the playing field between her and me a little.
Hundreds of gazes struck us like sharp needles as we reached the top of the stairs. Barbara's breath caught and her eyes watered as she realized the attention of an entire nation was on her. She gulped and I dried the tears with a cantrip before they had a chance to run her mascara.
Proper etiquette asked her to glide down the middle of the stairs but Barbara reached out and grabbed the railing for support. Her heart was racing and her eyes swam to and fro, trying to make sense of what was going on.
"What?"
"What?"
Actually, the [Living Silk] petticoats were the ones doing all the "not tripping" heavy lifting. Barbara's dress literally flowed graciously around her movements and helped her keep her balance.
We reached the bottom of the stairs and vanished under the crowd, courtesy of a halfling's stature.
"Margrave Hamilton!" The [Crier] announced above us.
People shifted to garner some favor with the good Margrave, and we were pushed deeper into the hall. I found {Telepathy} blocked by a psychic ward. Prudence dictated not to mess with but the downside was that I lost contact with Eleanora and Elizabeth.
We were alone in the middle of Pekothas' nobility.
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Pockets of people formed as the nobles bragged about their daily lives, trying to appear as glamorous as possible. I think that's what Mom experienced in her original world regarding "social media" bragging. The wait staff deftly navigated among the guests, keeping everyone topped with pastries and (fake) liquid happiness. They obviously had the Perks to avoid any accidents or collisions, as I saw a tray of bubbly wine flutes tilt more than forty-five degrees without spilling a single drop.
Barbara walked around, trying to find our friends. When we did, we found they were busy entertaining their other friends or faction members. Tales of our Labyrinth delve were in high demand as we were the only survivors left in the Kingdom, brain-bleached teacher notwithstanding.
But we were an apparently small fish in an ocean full of sharks and... piranhas. Yes, piranhas. A metaphorical school of those voracious characids clad in fine silks and satins singled us out and decided to come and take a nibble of our dignity.
Stolen story; please report.
"Dame Ambrose," the lead [Lady] approached. The wards blocked {Appraise} attempts and while I felt I could overpower them, I once again erred on the side of caution. I felt no need to know this woman's class, species, and level. If push came to shove, it was irrelevant anyway.
She also didn't introduce herself. Since she was of a higher station than us (not a hard feat since we were only knighted - pending the proper ceremony by the King), it was assumed we should know who she was. Yet more nightmare fuel for Barbara's social anxiety.
The woman wore a yellow gown with bare shoulders and delicate lace gloves. She had pink hair but round ears, hinting that while she had some Star Elf ancestry, it was very diluted. Maybe mom shouldn't have cursed the whole species with horniness and hedonism, but it was too late by now. I understand why she did that, she didn't want to be compelled to rip her own ovaries out to resurrect the species again but this was a bit too much.
"He-hello," my Lady started out on the wrong foot. Her greeting was too meek and insecure. The cackle-starved fish smelled blood in the water.
Time to strike back and point out their first faux pas to get us some points in this contest. With a mental nudge, Barbara let go of me and I landed on my own feet next to her, extending my legs a bit under my dress to reduce the height issue a bit.
"Greetings, my [Lady]. May the blessings of your exalted divine ancestor shine upon you on this fortuitous day," I said with a deep bow.
> > Contested Charisma test won.
The lead piranha [Lady]'s breath caught as she understood my intent. She brushed her well-styled locks in a gesture of vanity, to pass the message along.
"Lady Netherbane," she blushed a little, addressing me by name, recognizing she'd ignored me.
I bet she would call me Barbara's pet sooner rather than later. The other young women of the "school" noted the deference in their leader's speech and dipped their heads. Good.
"My [Lady], how can we be of service?" I asked. "May I entertain you with a tale about the Goddess' early days? I doubt you've heard this one before."
> > Contested (Charisma+Diplomacy) test won.
"I would be delighted," she replied with a gracious smile. The other ladies quickly rounded us up, giving me their full attention.
Barbara glanced at me and I replied to her with the psychic equivalent of a wink.
"This happened many thousands of years ago, in ancient Lonid, far in Northern Auvanini. Blind from birth, one Eleon halfling named Rosewise Honorcoin found she had talent with {Sorcery} and became an adventurer in fair Perenneth's Labyrinth. There she befriended a daring nobleman called Cedric and his wives, all of them experienced delvers. Rose saved Cedric and his brave team from a bunch of dastardly murderers who had an eye on their artifacts, gear, and loot. A most heinous kind of delver, the scum of the scum.
"Thus Rose joined that team, in their adventures and exploration of the sunless underground, but refrained from engaging in their other... proclivities, as her heart was already fated to love another."
Some of the ladies gasped, blushed, and swooned at the innuendo. The fact that Cedric practiced more "swordplay" with the women rather than with the monsters he should be killing wouldn't be mentioned, for the sake of the reputation of a long-gone friend.
"One day, Cedric invited Rose to a formal meeting of his fellow nobles. The [Sorceress] went, and there she met a few ill-intentioned [Ladies]. Oh, the woes of youth, brash and foolish. See, these [Ladies] decided they wanted some instant pleasure by showing how higher their status was, compared to the peasant spellcaster they found in their midst. They were no different from a school of carnivorous fish, eager for a nibble of soft flesh."
"On that day, Rosewise Honorcoin endured humiliation for the sake of her friend. Maybe those ladies wanted to show Cedric how better they were, to join him in his 'adventures'," I changed my pitch here to make sure they got the hint, "but all they managed was to make a fool of themselves. How? I'll tell you."
"Rosewise was strong and determined. She quickly "rose" in ranks and levels, and eventually caught the eye of none other than King Robin of Locksley, the founding father of Windemere. She became his court [Magister] and helped him rebuild the kingdom after the wrath of the Black Dragon Emperor."
The lead lady's eyes shone, a signal she'd read her holy scriptures "religiously".
"Many years after that fateful party, the Houses of those ladies wished to trade and profit with Windemere, as the budding nation and birthplace of the Silk-Folk were a prosperous and wealthy one. Rosewise had a long memory and the King's ear, though. She remembered the humiliation she'd suffered at the hands of the wicked [Ladies] and struck down the treaty. Suffice to say that Windemere traded exclusively with the rival faction of those Houses, and the scornful [Ladies] faded into obscurity and social ostracism along with their Houses and ill-mannered vices of humiliating others."
"King Locksley soon would save Lonid from a monster outbreak, using his famous Ice Trains to ferry refugees and resources desperately needed to rebuild. Of course, he was one of the Matriarch's many incarnations. But the fiefs of those Houses never received the same help as the rest of the Kingdom. All because of a stupid prank in a social gathering years ago."
I ended my tale and rested my case.
> > Contested (Charisma+Diplomacy) test won.
The [Lady] was holding her breath. She produced a fan and used that to get a gust of fresh air. Her decolletage was reddening and I could see goosebumps pushing against her delicate gloves.
"That's certainly a sobering tale," she finally said with a faint huff. "I am most grateful for sharing it, Dame Netherbane."
While the other women around us nodded in agreement, Barbara was quiet, reminiscing... oh, shit. But I needed to address the [Lady] first and seal the deal.
"Yes, I know many tales of the Goddess that didn't go into the scriptures for one reason or another. I would be delighted to invite you [Ladies] for tea and a storytelling session when we manage to buy ourselves a mansion."
"Oh," one of them, dressed in orange, perked up. "I believe my father has a mansion in the capital he's willing to sell."
Two ladies in the back snickered. I grinned back at the speaker, stretching a bit the stitches in my mouth in a way that seemed definitely creepy for a moment.
"That's a deal, I am sure your father will offer a fair price. The mansion is surely damaged by the quake, but to an {ultra-rare} [Crystallomancer] with {Earth Magic Affinity} and my spells, it shall be an easy repair even if it's only rubble remaining."
The lead pink-haired [Lady] glowered at the one who spoke up. Boy, not knowing their names and not using {Appraise} sucked. "I am sure it is a done deal," she affirmed vehemently.
"Yes, definitely."
Puzzled, Barbara glanced at the two women, then at me. "We're buying an estate?"
"A mansion, yes," I shifted my attention to the saleswoman. "How big are the mansion grounds? I must make sure it is up to a future [Archmage]'s standards," I finished the sentence staring into the eyes of the leader in yellow.
"It's rather modest if it's the one I'm thinking of," the pink-haired woman replied.
I felt the perfect moment to drop the bomb, hook, line, sinker, and the kitchen sink. "Small, ruined, I think your father should pay us to take it off your hands and renovate it. Such an eyesore in the city's skyline."
> > Contested Charisma test won.
"We-We can offer it to you as a housewarming gift," the girl in orange counter-offered.
"Yes, surely a lot of broken timbers to use as firewood lying around. How about a wager? We'll have it fixed and fully renovated by the end of the month. If we don't, we'll pay double its full value."
> Contested Charisma test won.
I felt I was stealing Halloween candy from children.
"We'll take that bet," the leader said on her minion's behalf.
Before someone else could start another dick-measuring... not a good analogy, none of us had any. Oh well. Before anyone could start more shenanigans, a liveried servant with the [King]'s colors approached us, the sea of nobles and the ring of ladies parting like the red sea before Moses.
"Dames Ambrose and Netherbane," he addressed us with utmost politeness.
A few of them gasped that the servant, obviously a high-ranked official, came for us of all people. His friendly and calm tone also hinted that we weren't in trouble.
"Milord," I replied and nudged Barbara to bow along with me. "How may we help?"
His eyes narrowed a bit in a smile signaling approval, though his mouth remained still. "His Majesty wishes for a bit of your time at your earliest convenience."
I never understood that idiom, which meant "right fucking now" in layman's terms. Especially when it's a [King] asking.
"Of course," Barbara said, relived for a way out of that delicate social entanglement. "If you would lead the way."
"Surely. This way, my [Ladies]," he nodded and turned around to lead us.
Before I went, I addressed the pink-haired girl. "My [Lady], you were sent to us by the Goddess herself. I am most pleased you lent us a bit of your time and ear. And I extend the invitation for tea again to all of you, [Ladies]. Our servants will send you an invitation."
"We'll be delighted to attend, Dame Netherbane," she curtsied.
"If you excuse us, [Ladies]," I said and Barbara picked me up to follow the liveried servant / court official.
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The party, however, didn't stop for us. The lower echelons had already joined the middle and high nobility inside the venue for some time when the court official came for us, and now the guests of honor were entering the ballroom. Our escort was about to leave through a lavish side door when the [Crier] called someone I had to take notice of.
"Countess Rosebloom of Auvani, Duchess Nagini of Windemere, the Matriarch's anointed [Saintess]!"
What a mouthful. And what about House Nagini? Wasn't it extinct? WAIT A MINUTE. [Saintess]?
I had to look, so I opened tiny eyes in the back of my head between the strands of woolen string I had for hair. There she was, a six-tailed Kitsune girl that looked to be in their teens, capturing everyone's eyes, gliding down the grand staircase, a satisfied smirk on her lips, eyes narrowed, gazing straight at us.
Fuck the wards and my aunt Prudence. {Appraise}!
> > Level 69 female kitsune [Saintess].
Her grin widened as she sensed my {Appraise} attempt. She returned the favor, and for once it pierced my curse. She read my Class, level, species, everything she wanted to. The reason she managed to? The curse blocked any attempt to read my Status unless it used Divine energy, and any Divine energy other than the Matriarch (or Loki) was siphoned into Pandora before it could take effect.
She was the real deal. Which raised two questions. First, what was Pandora doing to anoint another [Saintess], and second how the hell I wasn't aware the church had one.
I had not a single clue regarding the former question, but the latter was as obvious as the pain in the {Fate Magic Affinity} I was feeling.
Fate was a fickle mistress. And also liked to watch the drama unfold. Using Fate magic was opening oneself to Her whims, regardless of the knowledge that it came at a great personal cost. The dragon [Saint] and the brood-bitch toyed with Fate, tortured Lorna, and ended up as Exp for my growth. The price they paid was impossible to measure, given that the Broodmother was now reborn elsewhere, tasked with rearing a whole universe from zero by herself.
Lorna and mom paid a big price upfront, their lives, and now we were stuck in this matchmaking game for who knows how many lives. But since their boon would come only at the end, the impact was softened.
I was sure it was a "sleight of hand" by Fate's delicate fingers herself that obscured the information about this [Saintess] from me.
The kitsune's smirk became a grin, like a fox who ate the hen, the roster, the chicks, and all the eggs along with their damn bloody cursed grimoire. I felt danger, but not in a physical sense.
The court official crossed the door, and Barbara followed, carrying me. Whatever designs that kitsune girl had for us, it would have to wait until after we meet with the [King]. Mom and I, meeting with [Kings], the results had a poor track record, for the [Kings], mostly. At worst, another crown for her collection.
I only hoped it would end well this time.