Preparing for the ball had been more of an affair than I had thought it would be. I’d arrived earlier than I should’ve, slightly shaken from my run-in with the commoner mob, and even though it had been nearly three whole hours since my arrival we had still not finished my preparations.
There was an awful amount of preparation associated with making one presentable for a ball. Jasmine had made that abundantly clear after she’d bought the dress I’d wanted, the black piece that came out to sixty-six suns, but I hadn’t quite grasped how much it would be until now.
As soon as I’d gotten to the doors of the manor marked with the lion of the Rayes insignia, Jasmine had greeted me and taken me into the property. I’d barely gotten a chance to marvel at the sheer scale of the place—it dwarfed her mansion in Yaguan—before I’d been pulled along into a dressing room, an area almost as large as my university apartment and at least thrice as furnished. A line of closets made up one wall, and I was told to sit on a stool that had been unnecessarily encrusted with jewels.
Afterwards had been a blur. There had been people coming and going, wielding combs and bottles and oddly shaped objects with functions that eluded me. I counted seven or eight separate people, running back and forth over the course of the hours. It was an efficient, purposeful system designed exclusively to dress up nobles, and I couldn’t say I quite understood why.
Jasmine had told me to just go with whatever they told me shortly before being whisked away into a neighboring room, and I did. The servants here knew what they were doing, I could trust that, and so I simply sat there and followed their instructions. When I was told to lean forward, I did, though I hadn’t been prepared for them to start rubbing sweet-smelling soaps into my scalp like they wanted to rip it off. At least they washed it out afterwards.
When I was told to close my eyes and stay still, I did, not moving an inch as someone patted my face down with a soft brush. There was a lot of that, being told to stay still as the servants did things with my skin and hair that I assumed were meant to do something. The preparation took much, much longer than I usually took for myself, and I had started to grow bored after half an hour of rinses, powders, and lotions.
To occupy myself, I had started trying to manipulate my magic. Nothing big, obviously—accidentally destroying something or killing a servant would be a little unfortunate. Forming it in my hands would have been too close to another person, so I tried creating it away from my body. That was significantly more difficult than it was normally, given the complete and total lack of practice I had with it. I had grown so used to the process of holding magic with my hands that it had become second nature.
The magic weave running through the world was less responsive when I wasn’t manipulating it with my hands, I’d realized. After the first half hour spent trying and failing to form magic at my ankles, I had started approaching the problem differently.
Was it truly that only my hands could interface with the oath-threads? Or was it just my own perception, built up over so many years that I could no longer separate it from truth?
I had tried to perceive the threads in my mind, visualizing them moving and bending to my will just like they would if I used my hands. The hours spent with the servants passed by quickly, my mind elsewhere. I still paid enough attention to follow their requests, but I had had most of my attention on the magic.
Now that the servants seemed to be winding down, moving slower and more deliberately, I reflected on the progress I'd made—or the lack thereof, rather.
Ever since I’d received my oath, I had perceived the threads as just that: strings of power that ran through the world, invisible to the naked eye but clear as day to my oath. I had always known on some level that there was more depth to those strings, but I’d neglected investigating the theory of them in favor of learning how to use it for its intended destructive purpose more optimally. There was a decent amount of theory out there, I knew, but the textbooks and papers that detailed that research were generally abysmally boring to read, and oftentimes it was plainly obvious that the authors had no idea what they were talking about.
My interest in the topic had been reignited by Nishi bringing up how he had been able to use his connection to his god—gods, perhaps, given the massive amount of power he seemed to bring—in order to communicate like one of them. If my oath was the direction in which I had to pursue my introspection, then I almost definitely had to reevaluate how I perceived magic.
That was significantly easier said than done, though. Right now, I was running with the idea that those threads were connections between me and my god, ones that only opened when I called upon them. Why those connections didn’t go both ways, I had no idea, but then this was new ground for me. I still hadn’t managed to force my mind to open a connection by itself, but I’d made some progress.
A pair of servants entered the room, carrying a black piece of clothing. My dress.
I tried it one last time. I strained my thoughts, trying to not just perceive the thread-connections but also to influence them, and I felt a response. A thread thrummed inaudibly, a slight shift that I would’ve missed if there had been anything else distracting me. Around the same effect that I’d had the last couple of times, then. Still needed a lot of work, but those three hours had taken me somewhere.
“Milady, could you step out of your clothes?” one of the servants requested. “We’ve brought your dress.”
“Don’t need to call me that,” I said automatically. “Yes, I can.”
Alright. I could set aside the magic, for now. We were approaching the end of our time in the dressing room, it seemed, so I had something else to focus on.
I stripped down to my underclothes, a servant taking and folding the simple shirt and pants that I’d borrowed from Jasmine. Putting on the dress was a little easier when two other people were helping me into it, and securing the back was a cinch, a servant handling it for me. I was ever so faintly disappointed that Jasmine hadn’t been there for the last bit, but that faded when I looked up and actually saw my reflection.
The girl who stared back from the mirror was me, I knew that rationally, but it was a little uncanny, how different I looked. My hair, usually combed down straight behind my shoulders, had been thoroughly washed, recombed, and styled. Half of it was up on either side, braided back along my head, and the other half had been curled and had fallen down over my chest. I touched one of the clips they had used to pin it together, and I stopped short, realizing that it was a little longer than a pin should be.
Jasmine remembered, I thought. If that was what I thought it was, then I wouldn’t be going to ball unarmed after all.
I looked properly noble, and it didn’t stop at my hair. My skin looked smoother and brighter than it had been in… well, ever. They’d done something with powders and makeup on my face to increase the color in my cheeks and draw attention to my eyes and lips, the latter of which had been colored a bright red.
They must have gotten my measurements at some point during the process, because the midnight-black dress seemed to fit me better than it had last time. It was snug without being too tight, and its curves lined up perfectly with my body. The slit had been cut to a perfect length, exposing enough of my leg that I felt a thrill run through me looking at it without feeling indecent or obscene. I wanted to preserve this image of myself. I stared into my reflection, burning what I saw into my memory.
“You look excellent, milady,” one of the servants said.
“Wow,” I breathed. “Thank you.”
“Of course,” the servant replied. “We live to serve. There is just a little more left. Please stand up and step into these.”
I followed her instructions, stepping into a pair of shoes that fit me just right. They were flat and weren’t too hard to move around in, thank the gods. I vaguely remembered something from childhood etiquette lessons about only nobles being allowed to wear heeled shoes in court. Was this relatively practical shoe choice because of that?
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“And one final touch,” the servant said, placing a thin golden necklace over my head. It was a simple affair, a golden string with a small white gemstone set in the middle.
“We are finished,” she said. “Would you like to meet the Lady Rayes, now?”
“Yes, please,” I said. “Wow.”
I kept staring at my reflection. It had been an awfully long time since I had had the opportunity to dress up like this. I felt beautiful. It wasn’t like I had an issue with how I looked normally, far from it, but right now I was something else entirely. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from myself. It was a little narcissistic, I knew, but the servants had done a truly wonderful job.
“Lady Syashan?” A servant waved her gloved hand in front of my face, breaking me from my reverie. “Lady Syashan, we are ready for you.”
“Oh, right,” I said, forcing myself to look away from the mirror. “Take me to the lady, please.”
“Right this way, milady,” the two servants said in unison, indicating the opened door. I walked forward carefully, unsure of my steps with these unfamiliar shoes. It was an odd sensation, being unstable while also feeling like I was floating with every step.
We made our way into the hallway, and we hadn’t walked very far when another set of doors opened.
“That room is for Lady Rayes,” one of the servants with me explained. “She should be out in a moment.”
A few seconds later, she was proved correct when Jasmine stepped into the hallway.
I had to stifle a gasp as I saw her. I’d thought I’d looked beautiful, earlier. Jasmine wore a platinum-colored dress with a lower cut and long sleeves, complete with a pair of long white gloves. The dress shone as she moved, light reflecting on its sequins, and gauzy white fabric hung down from her shoulders and hip. She looked ethereal in the light, like a god made flesh.
Her hair had been subtly styled into complex braids and tied back, and she was positively glowing. Jasmine had gotten makeup done, too, but it hadn’t been too blatant, not doing much more than enhancing who she naturally was.
On top of it all, she had a necklace with a black gemstone set into it. Her outfit was almost the opposite of mine, an inverted image that would make us complement each other with the contrast.
I didn’t spend much time thinking about that last bit, though, my focus wholly on her from the top to the bottom. Earlier, I had been shocked by what a difference I had seen in myself, but Jasmine seemed to have taken a different approach. She looked like herself, just emphasized, and I almost forgot about myself, preserving this image in my mind’s eye.
“You—“
“Wow, you—“
We started speaking at the same time, the same admiring tone in our voice, and we fell silent simultaneously as well. A moment passed, and Jasmine chuckled, gesturing towards me. “You first.”
“You look incredible,” I said. “I haven’t seen how nobles dress up for formal events in s— ever.”
“The same to you,” Jasmine beamed. “You’re beautiful. You look even prettier than I thought you would.”
We stood there in silence for a beat, taking each other in. I got the impression that this golden moment could have stretched on into eternity, neither of us ready to look away and leave for the ball, but eventually the servants made a move, gently prodding us to get going.
I walked forward slowly, almost afraid that this golden moment would shatter if I moved it along too fast.
Jasmine offered me her arm, and I took it. Together, we ambled our way to the main door of the Rayes manor. Nothing needed to be said, and nothing was, the two of us basking in the instant.
Outside, a horseless carriage awaited us. Jasmine stepped up onto it and offered a gloved hand to me to help me in, and then we were on our way.
After the carriage started moving, the initial glow of emotion fading, I finally felt comfortable in breaking the silence to make small talk. “This carriage was made by an Aedi oath?”
“It was,” Jasmine said. “And not one of House Rayes. It was a fairly significant affair, obtaining this.”
“It must have cost a lot,” I said, looking over the interior. The carriage had plush roofing and walls, gilded handles, and cushions that were sinfully soft.
“It did,” Jasmine grimaced. “An unnecessary expense, in my opinion, but it wasn’t my choice.”
Our current tilt of conversation reminded me of the situation that I’d only just escaped, and my mood soured a little. Not ruined, not by a long shot—I was having far too good of a time for a minor spot of revolution to throw me off—but the weight was there, a reminder of what I’d gotten myself into.
I hadn’t been on my game. I’d been meditating, tiring myself out with continued use of my magic, and I’d gotten messy. My lies had become transparent, my situational awareness weak, and now somehow I had agreed to their request to do something for them.
Oh well. That just meant another twenty-odd people to execute, if the situation went bottoms-up.
“You alright, Lily?” Jasmine asked. “You look like you’re thinking hard.”
“There’s a situation,” I said, measuring my words. “With the commoners.”
“There is,” Jasmine said. “We ran into two of their cells while investigating. Fifteen to twenty people, both times, with a handful of oathholders between them.”
“And how did that go?” If House Rayes wasn’t particularly merciful, that sounded like a recipe for disaster and villager blood.
“We disarmed and defeated them,” Jasmine said. “Nonlethally, at my request. They’re in the Crown’s prison right now. House Rayes was going to figure out what to do with them after we attend the ball today.”
“Of course you would’ve asked to hold back,” I sighed. “Anyway, I ran into a cell on my way here.”
“You did?” Jasmine asked, brow furrowing with concern. “Are you alright?”
“Unhurt,” I said. “But from what I heard, it sounds like they’re planning something. And it may not just be them.”
“You should’ve told me this sooner,” Jasmine said, her voice turning serious. “I want you to stay safe.”
Not because of the potential riot, huh? Unbidden, a smile came to my face. “Sorry.”
“It’s alright, just please let me know if you’re in danger,” Jasmine said. “You said they were planning something?”
“I will, and yes,” I replied. “I didn’t catch all of it, because by then they were about to notice me and I decided to get out of there. I caught pieces, though. Something about the day after tomorrow and House Tempet.”
“House Tempet…” Jasmine muttered. “Our investigations are gradually pointing towards something similar.”
“Similar? You also suspect House Tempet?”
“From the evidence we’ve gathered, a Tempet member may have killed or funded the killing of the Crown Prince. But your new information doesn’t make intuitive sense.”
“How so?”
“House Tempet’s power comes from the amount of money and prestige it can bring to bear. Of the noble houses, it can be argued that they are the most traditionally noble.”
“So you’re wondering why they would support a commoner revolt when they inherently oppose each other,” I realized.
“Exactly,” Jasmine said. “House Alzaq claims to have more information, but I don’t trust them. They’re making a power play here, more so than any other House is.”
A phrase came to mind about a pot and a kettle, but I decided not to say it. Jasmine wasn’t exactly the pinnacle of a scheming noble, anyway.
“You think House Alzaq has something to do with it?” I frowned. “I mean, I guess their lord is pretty shitty.”
“I know you’re working for them right now,” Jasmine said. “I do not mean to raise any—“
“Raise all the accusations you want,” I said with a bitter chuckle. “There’s maybe a single tolerable person in that House. I could see them orchestrating murder.”
“Orchid is a rather nice man,” Jasmine said. “Anyway, I do think they have a hand in this affair. Gut feeling, if nothing else, but I mainly believe that a House so new to power is going to crave more of it.”
“Are we assuming that the people who orchestrated the murder and the people providing aid to the commoner cells are the same?” I asked. “For all we know, the commoners are independent and attacking House Tempet while any old House assassinated the Crown Prince.”
“Reasonably sure,” Jasmine said. “There is reason to believe that the rumor of Kiri’s death was intentionally sown among would-be rebels, and that speaks to a connection between the two.”
“I suppose there’s nothing else we can do for now,” I sighed. “We aren’t investigators, and we can’t take action against any House without conclusive evidence.”
“There isn’t,” Jasmine agreed. “For now, let us allow the investigators to do their jobs and attend the ball. The Crown is already preparing for a civilian revolt, which means there is not much we can add there. They are not our problem yet, and I won’t have them ruin an otherwise perfect night.”
With her final sentence, she shot me a twinkling smile. The unexpected image sent an incandescent bolt of warmth right through me, and I smiled back.
“You’re right,” I said. Fuck the other nobles, fuck the revolt. I have more important things to do right now.
“On an unrelated subject,” Jasmine said after a few moments of silence. “Alex and Lukas are going to be there.”
“Oh, are they?” I wasn’t terribly interested in seeing them, but they were my coworkers in some capacity. “I think one or two of the adventurers I was working with will also be there. Has Lukas’ arm been healed?”
Jasmine shook her head. “The limb was detached for too long, and the Nacea oath at the primordial battlefield was unable to dedicate enough attention to fully restore the arm. When I last spoke with him about it, he said that he was going to get a mechanical limb made to replace it.”
“The perks of wealth,” I griped half-jokingly. “Will it affect his ability to cast?”
“It may,” Jasmine said. “I believe you should ask him yourself, though. We should be here.”
Sure enough, the carriage was rolling to a stop. The door opened without either of us needing to push it, and Jasmine led the way out.
I held my dress up to keep myself from accidentally stepping on it as I left, and that meant I didn’t look up until Jasmine offered me her arm.
Once again, I took her arm in mine, and then I finally looked at the venue that we’d arrived at.
I was greeted by massive columns, huge ramparts that seemed to scratch the sky, towering statues that loomed over us. What I was looking at didn’t deserve the mere title of building. It was colossal, probably larger than Syashan all on its own. A behemoth of brick, stone, glass, and steel.
It was a grand sight, and it was one I’d seen before. I had never thought I would step foot in here again.
“Here we go,” Jasmine said, and we entered the royal castle.