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Red Mist
47. The Second Dance, Pt 1: A Good Fortress

47. The Second Dance, Pt 1: A Good Fortress

“Richards Hall does in part look like a fortress from the outside, and I think that I quite enjoy it. I’m not often here on the northern side of Yellowrock, and Smith Hall seems so much more like a converted smithy in comparison,” Freya said.

Freya and Tulip paused their conversation as the carriage came to a stop in front of a large stone arch entryway. The chauffeur opened the door, allowing Tulip to exit gracefully. Tulip fixed her sash around her waist, placing the bow on her left hip. Tulip reached an arm up to Freya as the younger mouse scooped up her skirts and cape with one arm. A line of five carriages were all parking around a great circle of packed dirt. Stone sculptures of fox warriors in various poses completed the outer perimeter. Each one held a sword.

“Those are all the warriors from the Richards line,” Tulip said, nodding towards the sculptures.

The mice both looked down the line.

“It’s strange. I cannot imagine seeing a lineup of my own family arranged in the same way,” Tulip said.

“I would treat such a display with the reverence it deserved. To have my ancestors see how high I have come,” Freya said.

Freya didn’t feel that she could follow that up with anything meaningful, so instead motioned for Tulip to take her arm. She faced the entrance as the next carriage in line clomped into position.

The two moved forward as one. Freya’s black velvety cape slid over Tulip’s arm, warming both in the cool early winter breeze. She was wearing the dress like her life would depend on it.

“Alright. Just like we’ve prepared. The presentation and my personal favorite fox custom, the sampling hour. I pray to Nithe that they have what I’m looking for,” Tulip said.

“Those little cocoa chippy things?” Freya said right before the receiving line.

Lord and Lady Richards, the elder foxes, greeted each guest as they were presented, leading to a flowing mess of new guests by the entrance. A mess that Lord Richards kept waving on, even as they greeted each other. Lady Richards wore a golden dress with a thick red belt the only adornment around. Lord Richards wore a coat of deep red with golden lines and buttons. Freya even spied a golden tie.

“Those are the ones,” Tulip said.

Coming to the front of the line, Freya curtseyed to Lord and Lady Richards.

“Your Lordship, your Ladyship, Miss Freya Uki, friend to Miss Abigail Smith. She is accompanied by Miss Tulip Kang,” a fox in an elegant bright red trimmed servant's coat said.

“Welcome, Miss Uki, Miss Kang. I do hope that your friendship with Miss Smith will help us glean some insight into her intentions,” Lady Richards said.

Freya could feel the heat rising from her face.

“Ah!” Lord Richards exclaimed, swishing his tail about. “It is apparent that she does know something, Dear. We’ll have to ensure that she gets the best of the appetizers… er… Davenport?”

The fox who announced the couple nodded. “Sire?”

“See that Miss Uki is very comfortable,” he said.

“Very good Sire.”

Behind Davenport the valet, a lean muscled otter guard leaned in with instructions and then disappeared. Freya noted the gleam in his eye as he turned a corner.

“Miss Kang, will Lady Raina be joining us tonight?” Lady Richards said, fanning herself. “She gets all the best information.”

“Lady Richards. She should show up a bit later on, I believe that she intended to travel with Madame Leng and Mister Francis Seafoam.”

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“Ah! Thank you. Please make yourself at home.” Lady Smith waved them in, and then immediately greeted the pair waiting behind Tulip and Freya.

Walking Freya around the crowd, Tulip spotted and made a beeline for a serving rabbit carrying a tray of clay mugs. Freya caught up to her as Tulip sniffed deeply.

“Miss, apple cider, if you wish.” The rabbit presented the tray to them. Tulip and Freya both grabbed a mug at the same time. Freya paused, waiting for her unofficial taste tester to determine if the drink was good or not, as the rabbit disappeared behind her.

Tulip took a short sip of the drink, nodded to Freya. Freya found a convenient spot against a wall, underneath a lit sconce. The scone sat above a large door frame leading to an antechamber, giving Freya a fair amount of light. Looking inside, she spied a mural depicting the battles between foxes and beasts, with rabbits and mice locked in formation behind the foxes. The wall showed the story of the founding of Yellowrock, a proud tiny nation, protected by the natural mesa. Wrapping the circular chamber, the story from the initial pact of the three races to the fortification of the mesa to the bloody defensive battles to secure it.

A light wafting tone came from far away, muted underneath the voices. High above the antechamber, the raven was painted at the apex of the antechamber, and dragon gods Nithe and Miru fought against Inujag who appeared as a hairless ape with antlers and glowing eyes.

Finishing her drink, Frey saw a ledge where the drinks had been kept and then placed hers down. As she turned back to admire the painting of the gods in battle, Tulip returned with two round baked treats, adorned with soft black dots.

“Ah, my chief has arrived.” Tulip directed Freya to look towards a gaggle of decorated birds doing their best impression of preened debutants. In the circle of the gaggle, Lady Raina held court with a female blue jay in a white ruffled blouse, with a grey straight skirt. Noticing Tulip, the jay waved her to join them.

Freya watched as Tulip went to become another feather in Lady Raina’s cap.

She cast about for another friendly face, as the birds surrounding Lady Raina laughed at some joke Tulip must have said.

Seeing Abigail from across the room, it appeared that she was about ready to summon an obligatory duty mole to seal some sort of business transaction. It could also end in a duel, and Freya was willing to give even odds that Abigail was wearing one of her dancing swords, or at least a sword that the younger Lord Richards had given to her as a gift. Squinting, Freya could almost make out an outline of a sheath from across the room.

“Miss Uki?”

Freya looked about for the source of the voice. A young, well-to-do rabbit looked back at her.

“I am.”

“Lord Benjamin Benson. It is a traditional family name I’m afraid. How do you do this fine evening?”

Freya paused, leaving enough room for doubt.

“I am quite well, now that I’ve sampled some of the cider that you are probably about to tell me that you are in the business of making?”

The rabbit smiled broadly.

“I’m afraid it’s not anything so lovely as that. I saw you dancing at last week's ball, but you left before I could ask you to dance.”

“Miss Uki!”

Madame Leng, accompanied by another male fox, walked past a large crowd. Her companion looked clean and sobered as if he’d been fed a chicken’s share of Ka-pi grounds. Freya idly wondered if there was any of the hot bean water to be found at the dance.

“Madame Leng, Mister…?” Freya paused, dipping a knee in front of the newcomers.

Lord Benson watched from her side as the male fox flourished a bow that would have made a mole bard blush.

“Mister Francis Seafoam. I am Madame Leng’s… companion, and she has told me much about your dress. I’ve heard that it is one of her finer pieces that she’s made and I have to say,” Francis turned to Madame Leng, “ you were right about the cape really pulling it together.”

“Thank you, dear.” Madame Leng examined Freya as if the mouse were a baked pie.

“It does appear lovely. Now Miss Uki, would you be so kind as to take a dance with an old fox? I promise that I won’t bite. We are curious as to how it looks in a dance,” Francis said, his ears perking up.

Freya heard the strings ending a song as she looked between Lord Benson and Mister Seafoam. Leave them wanting more, she thought.

“Lord Benson, as this is a matter of commerce, I must help Madame Leng with her work. You must understand as a businessman yourself?” Freya said.

“Oh, Miss Uki! My apologies, if this Lord has already asked for a dance, then I shall await my turn.” Mister Seafoam bowed to Lord Benson.

The mouse lord and fox gentry briefly shared a knowing glance.

“Lord Benson?” Freya said, “I believe that I would like to accept your invitation. I require someone to help me show Mister Seafoam and Madam Leng how well their product works.”

Freya held out her hand.

“Let’s give them an excuse to do some work tonight,” Lord Benson said.

He led her onto the dance floor as the opening notes of a waltz began.