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They arrived with little fanfare, the status of her husband making even just arriving through a main entrance a risk. As the general of the largest army in recorded history, and the man single-handedly leading the years-long fight against the darkness of their universe, Lord Pitchiner was the highest target to all their enemies. He held power, and it was with no small amount of pride that Lady Pitchiner stood beside him.
That power, however, did come with danger, and so their carriage brought them around to the back of the resplendent castle before them, the carriage grey and black and designed to draw the least amount of attention. The guards that protected them also arrived in inconspicuous carriages, though theirs didn't follow too closely and each took different positions around, making it appear as though none of them were together. As though the Pitchiners carriage was not one that needed protecting.
Normally, the Lady knew, there would not be quite as extreme efforts put into the safety of her husband, the scattering of carriages really was rather unnecessary, but she was there, and as with any time her or her daughter left the moon they lived on, her husband took the most extreme lengths he could to divert any dangers.
She was flattered, really, even if it all seemed a little heavy handed. She knew it came from a place of love and she'd never known anyone who loved quite as deeply as her husband. There was very little she could truly complain about.
Besides, their grand entrance happened inside the castle. For all he made sure they weren't noticeable when arriving, her husband had never really been able to resist a good dramatic entrance. As the two stood behind curtains to be presented to the crowd allowed at the event, she looked over to him to find him already looking at her, a soft fondness to him. When she met his gaze, he grinned widely. "Shall we give the cue?" He gestured toward the man standing a little ways off, ready to open the curtains.
"We shall." She stated decisively before raising a graceful hand and moving her fingers in a silent snap.
The curtains rolled open and the muffled lively chatter that had been going on behind it all fell to a hard silence. The lord and lady stepped forward onto the stage-like balcony as the music of the room changed into a dramatic swell of a fanfare.
"Introducing Lord and Lady Pitchiner of the Orion Constellation."
A roar of polite applause echoed about the large room. She felt the expansion of pride from Kozmotis and looked over to see him with that gleam in his eye as he soaked up the attention of hundreds. His figure stood regal and stoic but she could see the internal giddy glee he held.
"Lord and General Kozmotis Pitchiner, and Lady Nashira Pitchiner." The announcer specified, as though there may be another couple of Pitchiners at the event, and then proceeded to drone on about the recent successful war campaign her husband had just returned from as though literally everyone at the event didn't already know about it, considering the event was specifically in celebration of said recent victory.
Her husband seemed to have no qualms about standing there while the woman carried on. His golden eyes flickered over the many faces below them and Nashira couldn't help rolling her eyes a little bit at his internal preening. Though, she was glad he got this. Many battles or campaigns, even the successful ones, he returned from despondent and quiet and Nashira could only help so much with that. Nothing perked Kozmotis up quite as much as being the center of attention.
Once the woman had finished her speech, they were allowed to descend the stairs down to the main ballroom. The guests were all milling about, turning back to their conversations, and trying not to make it obvious they were watching the Pitchiners. Colors were strewn across the ballroom, with an abundance of gold present as always.
Luckily, there was an unspoken social regulation that kept the crowd from descending upon the two immediately, one of the good things about high society. The first to greet them, as always, was the Tsar and Tsarina. Both couples, apon making eye contact, lit up with familiar pleasantries.
Lord Pitchiner was the third most powerful person in all the constellations just under the Tsar and Tsarina, so the two couples were quite familiar with each other and, fortunately, Nashira could say she rather liked them. Unlike many of the high society families which came from business and old money, the royals were hardened and regal with power. They didn't buy into political games, or play with false pleasantries. They were both leaders of full capability and some of the few people Nashira respected.
Basic formal greetings were passed, all four of them fully aware of how unnecessary they were, and a sense of insider amusement was shared between them. They got to chat for a good ten minutes, catching up, mostly just hearing about the Tsars' newborn son. Nashira was content just listening to them faun over their child, remembering the joy and pride she'd felt when Seraphina had first been born. Unfortunately, the conversation ended all too soon and marked the start of her least favorite part of these gatherings.
During the start, it was expected of her husband to generally enter the crowd and allow people to speak to him. Her husband, as always, gladly soaked up the attention, having no hesitance in regaling the people with the almost poetic way he spoke. Nashira on the other hand was not so inclined toward it. She could just stay by her husband's side and let him do the basic socialization, that is to say, monologue on his part, and she wouldn't have to do anything.
However, the one thing she hated more than the forced pleasantries, was floating around behind her husband being seen as simply a flimsy attachment to him. There were far too many people who took in her husband's high status within the military, and her distinctly lower status, and assumed she must be some token second-piece to his grandeur.
So, instead of following him, she allowed him to go and headed off to hopefully find some guests worth talking to. She floated about the room and managed to track down three different conversational partners she didn't detest in between what felt like a countless number of exchanges that just contained greetings and polite small talk that made her want to steal her husband's sword off of him and commit a massacre.
Lightly. A light massacre.
At one point, she ran across a small group of gossipers and listened into their conversation as she'd done surreptitiously to most every group she'd passed so far, looking for something to catch her interest.
"-act like he's the sole fighter on our frontlines. The amount of credit he's given is far over exaggerated, in my opinion. He's been General for seven years now and how much progress has he actually made? Half of the cygnus constellation is still infested and he's been working at that one for a year now!"
"And I suppose you could do better?" Nashira cut in, startling the group and stepping forward into the space they instinctively made for her.
"Now, my lady, don't twist my words. I never said I could do it, I'm simply saying-'' he paused, obviously trying to pick his next words very carefully, as he should, "Well." He started over, eyes skittering to the side in a very satisfying way, "All I'm trying to do, is express frustration in the party attitude when there is such disaster still raging out there."
"You would have us dour and scared all the time then?"
"Well now, no. Surely though, we could be still working toward more success. I respect your husband as much as anyone," Nashira raised an eyebrow and the noble visibly quailed, "but any man would need help with such a herculean task, you can agree, yes? He's given the sole duty of all of these war efforts, and, if I may speak frankly," his voice hardened, "A part of me can't help but wonder if perhaps he accepts no help so he can claim all the glory, and such frivolous events can be thrown in his honor."
"Accepts no help? Just how much do you know about what my husband does and who works with him?"
The man glanced to the side, once again set on the backfoot, "Granted, I'm no expert, but it doesn't take one to see how much higher in status and job he is than his immediate subordinates. They are in place for a reason, they must be fully capable of helping, so why don't they?"
"Why don't they indeed." She said almost dryly, an air of near boredom to her as though the conversation was barely worth the breath, "it would have nothing to do with their specialization, or immediate workload, very different from my husbands. Or, perhaps, the reason why my husband has made more progress in his seven years than the previous general did in over half his career. Do you know what that reason is?"
The man's face shut down in pride as he realized he'd lost but refused to face it. "No. I don't."
"Our enemies' one weakness is their disorganization. Had they a sense of teamwork or leadership, much less a single head, they could easily wipe out all of us quicker then we could even dream of recovering from. Kosmotis uses that very same weakness by implementing the very opposite tactic. So long as all information goes through him and all major decisions come from his mouth, our army is essentially one being. As one, we are simply picking off every nest of infection piece by piece, and as one, we are not losing ground." she paused to look at the others in the group, pleased to see most of them wearing expressions of agreement, "Do you still believe all this is not due respect?"
"No, my lady." With that curt statement, he turned a palm up before her in respect, and turned to leave. She didn't bother to wave as the noble left. He was most likely already well aware of her distaste in him as she was his distaste in her, she wasn't going to try to add niceties now.
With that boorish conversation over, she looked around to find where her husband had gone and found him talking to an audience of five. Each of them listened with rapt attention as he weaved words together. He'd always had such a way with the word, casting sentences like poetry and speaking in that smooth timber she adored. He could read off a record of legal cases about petty thievery and find a way to incite emotion from it just from his voice alone.
As he continued to regale them though, she felt the familiar stirrings of jealousy. It was a bit of a problem she'd had regarding anyone in her life. She was protective and bordered on possessive and fierce in both. She'd had to work on it throughout her life and for the most part, she had, but every now and again it came rushing back when her husband devoted his attention to others or her daughter gushed about a teacher.
It took a lot not to go over and steal his attention back, and she was mostly soothed by the knowledge that she could. That if she went over there, Kozmotis would pick her over them in a heartbeat. So, she turned to find yet another dreadful conversation to engage in. Besides, she knew she needn't wait long, Kozmotis would always return to her. Always.
And as always, he did. She'd cycled through two conversation partners, over a dozen bland basic encounters, and was talking to a baronist of some constellation she immediately forgot the name of. Both of them watched the dance floor that had started up for the fifth time that night, her husband, for once, not on it. She could sense him coming up behind them, some second sense she'd developed over the years of being married to him. Judging by her conversation partner's expressions, they had not sensed the same thing; internally she felt a bit of glee at what was coming.
"The victory was excellent!"
"It was hardly an easily won affair." She responded in a drone.
"Exactly, so what better excuse for a party my Lady?"
"Ah yes, for setting a celebratory mood, there's nothing quite like violence, is there." Kozmotis spoke up from directly behind them, voice low in a happy sort of menacing way.
The baronist jumped forward away from Kozmotis with a startled noise, looking back to him with wide eyes. She glanced over to him to see him raise an eyebrow with an amused little grin. He glanced back at her and they shared a moment of mutual mirth before they both turned their attention to the baronist who was brushing off their suit trying to act casual about the situation.
"Ah. Lord Pitchiner, just the man I was looking for."
Out of the corner of her eye she caught the subtle tensing from her husband that signified he was officially at his limit, and with a knowing grin she shook her head, "Actually, I'm afraid he's coming with me. I'm dying for a dance."
"Ah, of course my Lady. You enjoy yourselves."
"We will." She said with an elegant little finger wave before she turned, hooked her arm through Kozmotis's, and led him to the dance floor.
"Dying for a dance?" He said as soon as they were out of earshot, an undercurrent of levity to the words.
"Why yes, didn't you know?" The two reached the dance floor and turned toward each other, wrapping their forearms around each other's vertically, "I'm married to the most prestigious dancer there is, how could I not like dancing?"
Kozmotis laughed and they began stepping to the music playing, "I've been asking myself that for years my dear." The two continued across the floor, feet settled in a long established rhythm, and she began to relax into the muscle memory.
She remembered years ago when they were still courting, Kozmotis teaching her to dance. He'd been so appalled when she told him she didn't know how. She'd never really liked dancing, and so refused to learn as a child. Once she set her mind to it, there was no force on earth that could convince her otherwise.
Except for Kozmotis. He'd taken her explanation with grace, and to her surprise, didn't ask her to learn. She'd been so sure he would - anyone who knew the Pitchiners knew of their son's predilection toward dance - but he didn't. He'd nodded and that was that. She knew he must have been disappointed, but he never showed a hint of it, and never asked her to dance.
It'd been that that gave her the final push in falling in love with him. She could have loved him for any of the other traits that he was admired for, but it'd been his understanding and will to put her preferences above his own that sealed her heart around him.
So, she'd asked him to teach her, because for every ounce of love he showed her, she was determined to at least try to return it, even if she knew she could never quite match up to him. She may not have liked dance, and she wasn't about to go dancing with party guests, but his look of surprise, excitement, and adoration had made it impossible to regret her choice.
And she couldn't deny, dancing was worth it with him. He had such smooth mannerisms and was good enough at controlling his own movements that he had no trouble guiding her along as well. He'd made dancing easy, and he'd made it fun. He got so genuinely happy when dancing; she'd get distracted from trying to keep up with where her feet were supposed to go just basking in his joy and adulation. He'd make it simple, and he'd made it sweet, often just chatting with her as though they were sitting in their pavilion and not currently coasting across a room.
She still wasn't too fond of it, and it certainly wasn't something she would do on her own - she could happily leave the random dancing to Kozmotis - but now she found that whenever she danced, which was only ever with him, she couldn't find it in her to dislike a single moment.
The part she enjoyed most though, was his attention being entirely on her. At these events, guests pulled him in so many directions and he had to keep up with everything going on around him and she found it extremely hard not to act on her jealousy whenever his attention was stolen away from her. No one could steal it from her when they were dancing. No one dared interrupt them and Kozmotis always seemed so enchanted it was like he simply couldn't pay mind to anything else. Nothing made her feel quite as Iovely and powerful than having the general of the golden armies melted just for her.
She let him lead her through two more songs, the triumphant joy in his entire body each time she allowed him to pull her back making her melt just as bad. The only reason she put up with these events was specifically to see that joy in him. It was such a contrast to the distant quiet he'd had in the few days after his return; she would tolerate a thousand parties to see that eased in him. When the third song ended, her husband was looking at her with such fondness, any stress from every single conversation she'd had was entirely forgotten. Washed away into non-existence.
The two headed away from the dance floor as the beginning notes of another song began, feet and hearts light. They were stopped as a lady of the Auriga constellation came over. Extending her hands palm up, she looked to Kozmotis with a smile. "May I steal you for a dance of my own."
Nashira's blood immediately spiked up, having dealt with watching Kozmotis dance with far too many people, and for a second she almost answered for him, wanting to simply say no to that woman's face and drag Kozmotis away. She quelled the jealousy before she got the chance, remembering how much her husband enjoyed these dances. No matter how much it prickled, she could never deny him happiness.
So, she kept quiet and looked over to her husband for his answer. When she did, he was already looking back, a knowing look in his eyes. Whatever he was thinking seemed to come to an end as he looked away and back to the woman before them.
"No." Nashira would forever be amazed at how elegant her husband could make that simple word sound. He put a solidity to it that she simply couldn't place, but she did so love it. "I'm afraid my time is taken."
A burst of pride and satisfaction flared through Nashira and she barely refrained from shooting the woman a triumphant look as though she'd won something. The Lady didn't seem to mind and she turned her hands up once more in a sign of respect before she headed off to find a different dance partner.
Nashira looked back over to her husband who had a raised eyebrow, a satisfied amusement to him. She just sent a steel unaffected look back even as her heart fluttered in a terribly cliche way. "Your time is taken?"
"Yes." The two began walking toward the edges of the ballroom once more, "By a woman of endless strength and elegance."
She felt a small helpless grin start to give her away, "Flattery gets you nowhere."
"How wonderful, then, that I'm not intending to get anywhere."
Honestly, what was she supposed to say in the face of that. "Well, if your time is taken, does that mean you want another dance?"
He looked over his shoulder back to the dance floor and a spike of distaste entered his gaze, a small scowl accompanying it. "No, I rather think I'm done with this place. Is it too early to leave, do you think?"
She gave him a dignified simper, "It's never too early to leave." That said, she strode over to the stairs that came down from the stage and headed up. As she rose, slowly but surely the party guests noticed her, each one pointing her out to another. She intentionally slowed her ascent, letting the attention of the entire grand room turn to her. By the time she reached the top, the ball room had gone quiet, every eye turned up. She stood there for a pause to let her figure sink in and appear almost imposing. Glancing over at her husband, she had to repress a self satisfied grin at the pride and adoration in his eyes. "The party has been marvelous, but me and Lord Pitchiner shall be taking our leave now."
She didn't bother with any conclusion or goodbye, no further thanks, no ending speech. She just stated what she needed and then turned sharply to head back down the stairs. The merriment in her husband made her quite self-satisfied.
"Your way of doing things is always so very dignified." Her husband greeted as she returned to him.
"Well, it got the job done, did it not?" She looped her arm around his, resting her hand gently on his forearm.
"Amazingly well." He responded as they both strode back through the center of the ballroom toward the grand exit doors. The crowds parted easily before them and it seemed every eye tracked them as they went, all the way up until the great doors swung close behind them.
Lord Pitchiner held power, and it was with no small amount of pride that Lady Pitchiner stood beside him.