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“Keladry, come in, have a seat.” Wyldon looked up from his desk and gestured to the chair in front of it.
Kel hesitated, torn between her instincts to obey the order and the instinct to not sit in her former training master’s presence while reporting to him.
Wyldon cocked an eyebrow wryly at her.
She hurriedly sat.
Wyldon made a noise that in a less dignified man might have been a snort.
“You wanted to see me, sir?” Kel reminded him.
“Yes,” he said. “This may be needless, and I apologize in advance if it constitutes any insult. It is only that I…” he rubbed at his old injured arm. “...still feel somewhat responsible for your present situation, and I wanted to put my…experience, and advice, at your disposal, should you want it.”
“Sir?” Kel asked, baffled.
Wyldon sighed. “You know that the king means to officially recognize you at the King’s Ball for your deeds at Rathausak?”
“Oh,” Kel relaxed. “Yes, sir.”
Wyldon examined her for a moment. “Are you aware that this is a political move on his part?”
Kel stared at him. “I-- I suppose so.”
Wyldon smiled wryly. “But you do not understand all of the political ramifications of it?”
Kel gave him a strained smile. “I am beginning to understand that to be the case, yes, sir.”
“Very well,” Wyldon replied. “What politics do you understand to be at play here?”
Kel gave herself a moment to collect her thoughts before replying. “Rewarding noble deeds is good for publicity,” she began. “It encourages people to do more of them, and it builds morale in the general public to hear about such deeds.”
Wyldon nodded.
“Officially recognizing me, specifically, smooths over the rumors that I disobeyed royal authority by going on the mission,” Kel continued, grimacing. She hated that she had to lie about that part of the course of events, but she did see the logic of it, and had respected Wyldon’s and the King’s request that she do so.
Wyldon nodded again, but continued to look expectant.
Kel looked up at him. “What am I missing?”
“Recognizing you in this way also puts you more prominently in the public eye,” Wyldon told her. “The attendance at the King’s Ball will mean that you are on display before a sizable crowd, including nobles as well as many commoners. You will, however, be an interactive display. People will have the opportunity to talk to you, dance with you, watch you eat and drink -- this humanizes you also. Why is that so important?”
“Ah,” Kel said, feeling as much of a blush as she ever got creeping into her cheeks. “Because there are also some very outlandish rumors about what I did at Rathausak and how.”
“Just so,” Wyldon approved. “What else is important about him recognizing you, specifically, as a paragon of knighthood?”
Kel resisted the urge to snort at that phrase. “It’s an endorsement of Lady Knights being a valuable asset to the realm,” she said slowly. “But he’s already made that statement, by choosing the Lioness as his champion, and by letting me try for my shield at all.” She paused, thinking. “It may be his way of apologizing for my probation,” she added.
“Very good,” Wyldon agreed.
“It would be a more effective apology if he simply admitted that it wasn’t fair,” Kel said darkly.
Wyldon made that strangled sound again. “I am sure that it would be. But that would also have political ramifications that His Majesty does not see fit to evoke at the present time, and I cannot say that I blame him for it.”
Kel sighed. “So what is your advice, then, sir? Smile and bow and pretend that everything has always been good and fair?”
Wyldon grimaced. “I would, at the very least, advise not accusing him of anything in public,” he said pointedly. “But I had hoped that would be obvious enough. No, specifically my advice is to think about how you handle the crowd. You have always polled well with your peers, or at least, the ones who weren’t blinded by hatred of you because of your sex, and with commoners. But older nobles, and even some of the upper class merchants, are trickier to handle. You may remember that you were not always welcomed by the tables you were assigned to wait on during such parties as a page.”
Kel frowned. “Surely with the King’s direct favor, they would not dare to be so rude?”
“Overtly? No, they too will be concerned with the politics of their actions, and treading carefully. But I am sure I do not need to tell you that they could get away with a great deal of rudeness without significant consequences, and that how you respond to such behavior will have an effect on your public image.”
Kel nodded. She had grown used to such treatment and scrutiny, and certainly had endured worse than would likely be thrown at her at this ball, during her years as a page and squire.
“The nobles and the wealthy will be judging you on your conduct both as a knight and as a lady,” Wyldon said. “That is not a combination of standards anyone but the Lioness has had to walk in living memory, and I would…advise you to not follow the Lioness’s example in this matter, unless you want to make more enemies. Or Commander Buri’s, for that matter. But Her Majesty may have some valuable insight.”
Kel filed that statement away to ask the Lioness about the next chance she got, and nodded. Asking Thayet made sense, and she could send a request for a meeting through Shinko.
“But the obvious area of scrutiny will be dancing,” Wyldon added.
Kel stared at him.
He offered her a pained smile. “It is a staple of court social life, especially for the unmarried. I would advise you to brush up on your skills, and to make sure you have someone suitable to open with. A noble in good standing that you trust, preferably, if you want to pass the most scrutiny.”
***
“Kel, we are five days away from Midwinter, you are simply not allowed to be so gloomy,” Dom said halfway through dinner that evening.
Kel glanced up at him from the plate of food that she’d been pushing around, then looked back down.
“You’re gloomier than me, Mindelan,” Lerant quipped. “If I weren’t so shocked I might actually be worried about you.”
Kel sighed. “I just have a lot on my mind,” she said.
“Did the Stump get you worked up about something?” Neal put in.
“Don’t call him that,” Kel chided. “And yes, but no. He helped me understand more of the politics that are going into this big award the king has planned for me, and he gave me some very helpful advice, I just…”
“Doesn’t seem like it was very helpful,” Dom commented.
Kel sighed again.
“Well, what was it?” Dom prompted. “Maybe we can help.”
Kel looked up at him. She had seen Dom dance before, and he was very good. Her stomach seemed to do a backflip. No, asking Dom for help with this was definitely not a good idea. Neal, on the other hand…she glanced over at her best friend. The crush she had had on him as a page had long since faded, and he was happily betrothed to Yuki now…he would surely be willing to help her without making things weird between them. “Actually, Neal, I need to ask you and Yuki a favor…”
***
Yuki had been taking supper in the princess’s suite, but was happy to agree to help. Shinko, of course, overheard, and immediately granted them the use of one of her rooms, and settled in to watch and give additional advice.
“Your footwork is correct,” Shinko said, a few rounds in. “But you are not letting Nealan lead. ”
Kel frowned at her over Neal’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t the correct footwork be enough?”
Shinko shook her head, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “For some dances, if you both have perfect footwork, it might be passable, but it will still not be good. Following lets you compensate for each other’s missteps, and lets you move around and adapt to people and obstacles nearby.”
Neal grinned at her. “Think of it this way: footwork is the strategy, but following is the tactics.”
Kel sighed. She supposed that made sense.
“You must be more relaxed,” Yuki added. “You can accept that you are not entirely in control of your body when you are on your warhorse, yes? That your movements must adapt to his?”
“I would much appreciate not being compared to that bruiser of a gelding, thank you,” Neal grumbled.
“I guess so,” Kel said. “I’ve never really thought about it that way, but I suppose that is how I ride.”
“Just so,” Yuki said. “Pretend Neal is Peachblossom, only you are dancing instead of riding him.”
Neal opened his mouth to reply to this, then snapped it shut. Yuki’s eyes widened and she hurried to hide behind her fan. Kel sighed in exasperation.
Neither Kel nor Neal could dance properly for several minutes for having that image in their heads.
What helped in the end was instead going back to Neal’s comment about strategy and tactics. Kel had been thinking about social dancing in much the same way as she thought about the pattern dances with her glaive, when she needed to be thinking about it more like sparring practice. Only, she was trying to cooperate with, instead of outmaneuver, her partner.
“You know that I can’t open with you though,” Neal said, as they took a break to drink some water Shinko had rung for and rest their feet.
“I know,” Kel sighed. “It wouldn’t be proper for you to take the first dance with anyone but Yuki.”
“I can, however, dazzle the crowd so that they pay less attention to you.”
Yuki rapped Neal’s shoulder lightly with her fan.
Kel offered him a tired smile, “Thanks, Meathead.”
***
Merric also rejected Kel’s proposal of helping her open up the dance.
“I’m awful,” he protested. “And I’ll be especially awful if everyone’s staring at me.”
“Don’t you want to play the hero?” Kel asked.
“Yes,” Merric said. “I’ll be part of the heroic group, I’ll have all the ladies wanting to dance with me, but the whole crowd won’t be focusing on me at once. And you won’t scare them off by making them think I might be courting you.”
Kel sighed. She was running out of nobles to ask. Anyone who was married or betrothed would be improper to share an opening dance with, of course. Raoul insisted that Buri wouldn’t mind, and he didn’t care about being proper anyway, but there had been enough rumors about them being in bed together when Kel was his squire that she didn’t want to chance them resurging. The exception to that rule, her father, would have been proper, and was willing, but that would send a message of its own, that Kel was still a child more than an entity in her own right, and that was definitely not the image Kel wanted to convey. Owen told her earnestly that he would have put off his announcement of betrothal to Margarry if he’d known, but it was too late for that.
“You know that Dom would do it if you asked,” Neal remarked, as Kel sat staring at the piece of parchment she had been systematically crossing names off of.
“Lord Wyldon told me that it should be a noble,” Kel protested. “And Lord Raoul gave me a whole lecture on command, and why women courting someone they outrank creates all kinds of scandal. It’s stupid, but that’s the way it is, and I don’t know if it’s worth the political backlash to--”
“My dear Keladry,” Neal drawled. “You are a hero of the realm because you risked life and limb to help people you outranked by miles . Surely choosing a dance partner a couple ranks below you pales in comparison to that?”
“I suppose,” Kel allowed. “But why Dom?"
“Why not?” Neal asked, and Kel cursed the reasonableness of it.
“He’s just…” Kel trailed off.
Yuki’s eyes widened and she snapped open her fan.
Neal looked between her and Kel for a few moments, then grinned, his eyes glinting. “Handsome?” Neal ventured.
Kel glared at him.
Neal’s grin broadened.
“You like Dom,” he accused.
“I do not!” Kel retorted. “And it’s not like it would even matter if I did.”
Neal raised an eyebrow, and Kel cursed.
“Oh, just leave me alone,” she said, shoving back from the desk.
Neal let out a low whistle. “So you do have nerves we can hit,” he remarked. “Fine, I won’t push, but I still say Dom’s going to be your best bet. You trust him already, and that’s important. But if you really don’t want to, I think we’ll have to ask Flyndan.”
Kel winced. “I suppose you’re right,” she sighed, dropping back into the chair with her head in her hands. She stood and straightened, stretching out her neck. “I’ll go find Flyndan,” she said, and walked out.
Neal gaped after her, then spun on Yuki. “I--, that was supposed to be a joke, was it not clear that that was supposed to be a joke?”
Yuki hid deeper behind her fan. “Was it not clear that Keladry was having a joke of her own?” Yuki asked wickedly.
Neal spluttered.
***
Kel found Dom in one of the common spaces in the wing that housed the King’s Own. He was playing cards with Lerant, Wolset, and a few of the other men from Third Company.
“Kel!” Dom exclaimed as she approached. “Save me from these honorless knaves, I fear my purse cannot take another hand.”
“By honorless, he means ‘understands how odds work’,” Lerant muttered.
“Maybe that’s a sign you shouldn’t be gambling,” Kel said.
Dom clapped a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Lady Keladry, to suggest that I should give up such a pleasure.”
“You just asked me to save you from it,” Kel pointed out.
Dom sighed dramatically. “So I did; my lady is ever correct. And will you? Save me?”
“Lucky for you, I do need your help,” Kel said.
“Has my Meathead cousin proved insufficient for your devious plans?”
“He has been very helpful,” Kel said. “But I need someone else. If you’re free?” She added tentatively.
Dom looked surprised, but stood up. “Of course, dear Kel,” he said. “Lead the way.”
***
Dom, as it turned out, was a good choice. While dancing with Neal had often felt like a power struggle, dancing with Dom felt more like, well, what Kel had thought dancing was supposed to feel like. Synchronous, like they were a team more than they were in combat. More like she felt on Peachblossom, she realized, and then hurriedly squashed that thought. Dom was better at adapting to her occasional stiffness than Neal had been, and ceding to her resistance when she wasn’t following his lead properly, without the motion looking forced. They’d found an old study of the King’s Own to practice in, and by the end of the evening Kel was feeling much better about her prospects at the King’s Ball.
The third bell after supper rang, and Kel disengaged.
“I hope you shall save me a dance at one of the Midwinter parties,” Dom said, bowing.
“About that…” Kel said.
Dom tilted his head at her inquiringly.
“Might you be willing to open the dancing with me at the King’s Ball?” She asked, and found herself holding her breath.
Dom’s eyes widened in surprise, but he bowed again. “It would be my great honor, Lady Knight Commander,” he said formally.
Kel thwacked his shoulder lightly to cover her relief. “None of that. I’m asking you partly so that I’ll have someone about who’s not so stuffy.”
“Only partly?” Dom asked, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
Kel stared evenly at him. “Yes,” she said blandly. “Good night, Sergeant Domitan.” She turned and walked back to her rooms, leaving Dom staring curiously after her.
***
The night of the King’s Ball arrived, and Kel was frustratingly jittery. She had hired Lalasa for the afternoon, telling herself it was more for the company and to support her friend than for the need of her work, but she had to admit that Lalasa’s no-nonsense bustling as she helped Kel dress and otherwise prepare for the ball was taking the edge off of her nerves.
They’d talked at length about Kel’s apparel for the Ball when she had first received the news that she would be a guest of honor, and looking at herself in the full-length mirror now, Kel was pleased with the direction they had chosen. Her hair was its usual short length that maids had always dubbed useless for any sort of styling, but Lalasa had tatted a silvery veil that somehow managed to both resemble coif armor and look elegant. Her dress was Mindelan blue with cream trim and an intricate design of owls embroidered in silver. It was strapped on only one side, which had become a common court fashion in the past few years, and Kel’s bare shoulder put the spider-web of scarring from her fight with Stenmun on display.
“You look beautiful, my lady,” Lalasa said, meeting Kel’s eyes in the mirror. “Beautiful and brave.”
“Thank you,” Kel said, a little enraptured herself with the effect of it all. She shook herself slightly and turned away from the mirror. “Time to go I suppose.”
“You’ll wow them all,” Lalasa promised as Kel headed for the door.
Kel was through and already walking away before Lalasa added slyly, “Especially Master Domitan,” before shutting the door after her old mistress.
***
The king had offered Kel the use of an antechamber to the main ballroom so that she wouldn’t have to wait in the main queue to be admitted. While this meant she didn’t have to deal with being a spectacle for her entire wait in the queue, it also had the unfortunate side effect of meaning her entrance itself would be a bigger spectacle, but Kel would take it.
Both the Royal and Crown Couples, as well as the other princes and princesses currently at court, were already present in the antechamber when Kel arrived. She bowed to each of them, and Thayet and Shinko swarmed her at once to exclaim over Lalasa’s handiwork. King Jonathan offered her a regal nod before resuming a conversation with Roald.
“I told Jon if he puts you on the spot for too long, I’ll faint to get you out of it,” Thayet told her conspiratorially. “So don’t look so nervous. Everyone will stare, applaud politely after Jon makes his speech, and then it’ll be all dancing and food and drinks which will distract the nice people well enough,” she assured Kel.
Kel managed a small smile. “You’re too kind, Your Majesty,” Kel replied.
“Thayet,” Thayet corrected her with a teasing smile. “You call Her Highness ‘Shinko’ all the time, I’ve heard you, so no excuses for you about not being comfortable addressing royalty.”
“Yes, Thayet,” Kel replied with a straight face.
Thayet grinned at her.
There was a light knock on the door leading into the ballroom, and a herald poked his head in. “The room is ready, sire, when you wish to enter.”
“Thank you, Elton,” the king said. He looked at Thayet. “Are you ready, my dear?”
“I believe I am,” she replied, and moved to take her husband’s outstretched arm.
“Lady Knight Keladry, you will be announced after Prince Liam,” the king told her. “You remember your instructions?”
“Yes, sire,” Kel said.
The king smiled. “Very well,” he said. “Then we shall see you again very soon.” He nodded to the herald, who slipped back into the ballroom, this time leaving the door ajar.
“His Royal Majesty King Jonathan IV and Her Royal Majesty Queen Thayet,” the herald’s voice boomed out, and the light roar of chatter Kel had heard through the open door fell silent.
The Royal Couple proceeded through the door, and Kel stepped back to put herself at the end of the line of royals.
When it was finally Kel’s turn, she waited just inside the door until the herald announced, “Lady Knight and heroine of the battle of Rathausak, Keladry of Mindelan,” before stepping through, doing her best to match the speed and gait that the royals had used as she walked straight towards the dais where the king and queen now sat. She bowed low before them and waited until the king began to speak before straightening to face him.
“Lady Knight Keladry,” King Jonathan began, “Our favor rests with you this evening. You have served the realm faithfully as a page, squire, and knight, and you have this past year won Us a threefold victory for which We bestow upon you special honor this night. You returned several captured Tortallan citizens, many of them children, to their homes. You slayed the warlord Stenmun, whose loss Scanra shall doubtless suffer, and you ended a great evil by slaying the necromancer Blayce the Younger, which also turned the tide of war in Our favor by depriving the Scanran armies of their killing machines. We thank you for your service, with both honor and purse.”
Kel bowed again. “Your majesties are gracious to honor me,” she said, and with a twinge of mischief added something to the second part of the words she’d been given to say: “My sword and my glaive remain yours to command.”
The king covered his surprise well, but Thayet openly grinned at her as the room applauded.
“We thank you for your continued service,” King Jonathan said when the applause subsided. He nodded at the band of string players in the corner of the hall, and they began to play. He led Thayet out onto the dance floor, with Roald and Shinko following close behind, and the younger royals also pairing off to begin dancing.
Kel turned. She had been so focused on the instructions for her part of the ceremony that she hadn’t taken in anything except the royal dais when she’d entered. She found Dom walking towards her from the front of the crowd. He was dressed in a fitted navy blue tunic that showed off his broad shoulders and muscled chest, with silver hose that matched her veil and embroidery. He was staring at her with an intensity that Kel couldn’t quite identify, and bowed deeply as he reached her. Kel curtseyed, then took his outstretched hand. He pulled her into a hold and had them both moving before she had even really registered that they were starting. Her nerves melted away at Dom’s now-familiar touch, and she smiled up at him, barely noticing the crowd thickening around them as more couples moved out onto the floor. He spun her out, and Kel spotted Neal a few steps away, watching her with a smug expression. She made a mental note to make him pay for that the next time they were on the practice courts, but it left her mind almost immediately as Dom whisked her back around to face him.
“Thank you for doing this for me,” Kel said.
Dom beamed at her. “My lady, I thought you’d never ask.”