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The limo sent for you and Farah had been a surprise — she’d said it was a perk of being the Headmistress of the highest school in the realm, and it was indeed a perk, the ride to the castle had never been so comfortable. Despite the comfort, the ball of nerves in your stomach was growing with each passing second, and you smoothed your hands over the lap of your dress again just to give your hands something to do.
“Nervous?” Farah asked you.
You let out a sheepish chuckle, glancing at her. “That obvious?”
She grabbed your hand and pulled it over to her lap, smoothing her thumb over your knuckles. “Not that obvious — I know you well. I know formal events like this can be intimidating at first.”
You nodded, turning your hand over to tangle your fingers with hers. “I can’t help but feel like I’ll stick out like a sore thumb.”
“Nonsense,” she said, and inched closer to you in her seat. “You look stunning tonight — you belong there just as much as everyone else there.”
You smiled faintly and squeezed her hand as your nerves dissipated a little, but a glance out the window showed the spires of the castle, all lit up against the night sky, coming into view, and the knot in your stomach turned to ice. “Thank you. I know you’re right and it’s just a party, but it’s still a little nerve wracking.”
The car rolled to a stop at the front doors, and a moment later the door opened, revealing a grand staircase softly illuminated with lanterns. “I’ve never been a great fan of these things, either,” Farah murmured as she stood from the car, then turned and offered her hand to you. “I’m rather glad I have you on my arm this time.”
You couldn’t help but admire her standing there in a sleeveless black gown, her smile soft and her eyes full of love that was all for you, and all of the stress melted away for just a moment, leaving only Farah, skin golden in the light and looking every bit the queen to fit the castle.
That thought had the purpose of the night flooding back to you along with your anxiety, but you pushed it aside in favor of taking Farah’s hand. Folding your arm into hers, she gave you one last smile before leading you up the steps, and you couldn’t help but gawk a bit at the castle towering over you, looking twice as grand as it did in the daylight, and shining with a light so pure you wondered if it was some sort of glamour.
At the door, Farah pulled a glittering invitation out of thin air, presenting it to the guard mostly out of show, you assumed, for the doors opened almost immediately to reveal a grand foyer, leading to the balcony where just beyond the twinkling lights and dazzling colors of the ballroom could be seen. A zip of nerves ran through your stomach as Farah led you closer, the blurring colors transforming into people, important people, their laughter and conversation a buzz that became clearer with every step.
Farah presented her invitation again to a man standing on the edge of the balcony, and you started when he called out your names in a loud voice to the crowd down below.
“It’s like you see in movies,” you murmured to Farah as she led you down the stairs that curved into the ballroom. “I didn’t realize announcing the guests was a real thing.”
“Luna’s always been a fan of the dramatic,” Farah murmured back. “Makes people feel important and intimidates them all at the same time.”
“The intimidation for sure works.”
Farah reached across and squeezed your arm tucked into hers. “This part is over quick, I promise. You’ll be by my side the whole time.”
Her words were a bit of a comfort, and as you reached the bottom of the stairs, the greeting began. You were introduced to countless people as you made your way through the room, faces and names quickly blurring together as you greeted each one smiling, shaking their hand with a kind word before Farah’s hand on your back was guiding you to the next person vying for her attention. She was as charming as ever even in the flood of people, greeting each person by name and with a kind smile that people couldn’t help but return, and she did it all so effortlessly that you thought it must only exaggerate your floundering attempts to match her grace and poise.
You couldn’t help your sigh of relief when the barrage died down and a waiter passed carrying champagne, and Farah snagged two glasses from the tray, passing one to you. “Congratulations on getting through your first entrance,” she said, clinking her glass with yours. “That’s the hardest part, I promise.”
You let out a little chuckle and did your best not to gulp at your drink. “I think ‘getting through it’ is a bit overestimating my success in that. I don’t think I could tell you anyone’s name.”
Farah gestured in a dismissive way with her glass. “You did wonderfully, you smiled and were polite, that’s all that really matters. As for the names, ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’ goes a long way in events like these.”
You nodded, then felt your stomach drop as a man approached you, and you braced yourself for yet another introduction.
“Headmistress Dowling, how lovely to see you here — may I say you look stunning.”
And she was stunning, you could agree with him on that — her black gown had a lace overlay, giving it a delicate detail that made many people give her a double look, and it was cut just right to show a hint of her collarbones, the perfect line between demure and sensual.
Farah gave him a charming smile and stooped a little as they exchanged light kisses on each cheek. “Secretary Clellend, it’s good to see you. Though you do say I look stunning every year — at some point the compliment will begin to wear off.”
He laughed in a sort of haughty way that made you exhausted just to listen to. “Well, then I’ll have to find some other word to convey your beauty.”
Farah just gave a light laugh and then turned to you, bringing you into the conversation with a hand on your back. “Secretary, if I may present to you my date tonight,”
He took your hand and kissed your knuckles lightly, a gesture some of the men had done that you weren’t quite sure how to act during. You smiled when he straightened, trying not to look awkward as you dropped your hand back down to your side. “It’s good to meet you, sir.”
“And likewise, I’m so happy to meet the person Farah has deemed good enough to finally bring to one of these events.”
It was obvious he meant his comments as a joke mixed with a compliment so you laughed, but still it had your stomach twisting. Farah had told you that she’d never been serious enough with anyone before you to take them to these events, so she’d either go alone or she and Saul would go together as the Headmasters of Alfea. While you were honored that Farah thought your relationship serious enough to bring you to a formal event, it was obvious the rest of the guests were aware you were the first date she’d ever brought, and were judging you in kind. Feeling a bit like a head of cattle at an auction, you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if you didn’t live up to their standards — or, more terrifyingly, Farah’s.
“Just happy she thinks so highly of me,” you tried to say back in a joking manner, and he laughed again in that haughty tone.
“I’d so love to stay and chat with you both, but I just spotted an old friend of mine I haven’t seen in ages. Enjoy the night, and come find me if you see me again.”
And he was gone before either of you could say a word.
“He’s a particularly draining person at these things,” Farah noted.
“Glad it wasn’t just me,” you responded, and she shot you a grin.
“Not just you — most everyone thinks that way.”
“That’s exhausting too, isn’t it? Playing nice with people who’re just insufferable.”
Farah nodded, but then shrugged her shoulders. “That’s politics. No one ever said it was fun.”
Though the politics weren’t fun, you could admit that some aspects of the party were — the drinks were top shelf, the small hors d'oeuvres were delectable, and best of all, the dancing. Farah had taught you several weeks ago in preparation for the gala, and you loved whirling through the elegant steps with her, especially in the ballroom, with the music, the dazzling colors and lights, and the giggles you shared with Farah when she spun you around and back into her arms.
But for every dance, there were at least two, long suffering conversations with politicians, small talk with royals that reminded you that you came from very different worlds, or comments that brought the nerves about your compatibility with Farah back to the forefront.
“It’s so exciting to meet the person Farah has chosen as her mate,” a woman with cat-like eyes had said to you with a cheshire grin to match. “Some of us have been wondering privately if she would ever choose someone. What did you do to capture the heart of the Headmistress?”
Did you really have her heart? the anxiety in your mind murmured. “I didn’t really do anything,” you said instead, trying to give her a confident smile. “We just sort of clicked.”
Every comment, every look that seemed to size you up all had your stomach twisting, and between the nerves, the lack of any substantial food, and more than a few glasses of champagne, your head was spinning. The lights, the colors, the movement of the crowd that was once dazzling now just made your eyes water, and when Farah went to discard your empty glasses, you slipped out of the ballroom and away from everything.
After rounding a few corners, you found a bench in an empty hallway and sat down hard. You pressed the heels of your hands to your forehead, trying to stop the buzzing, the loud, pounding thoughts, tried the calm the racing of your heart but it just beat faster, louder, and your breath came quicker with it until your chest tightened and—
A hand on your back made you jump, and you turned your head to see Farah sitting next to you, concern etched all over her face. “Darling?” Are you alright?”
“Just overwhelmed,” you said, and then forced out a chuckle. “And maybe a little drunk. I’ve had some anxiety brewing the past couple days and I think this just pushed it over the edge.”
Farah moved closer to you on the bench, moving her hand to your knee. “Why didn’t you tell me? We didn’t have to come.”
“I—” you stopped and looked away from her, shame rolling through you. “I didn’t want to let you down.”
“Why would your mental state ever let me down?” Her voice was soft and full of concern, a fact that just made tears well up in your eyes, and it felt as though a dam inside you broke.
“Because you deserve someone who—who measures up to you. I just don’t feel like I fit in at these things and—and you, you just glow, I know you said you don’t like these but you look like you belong, you act like you belong, and I feel like a fish out of water here, I’ll never fit in because I’m not built for stuff like this, but you are, and that makes me wonder how a woman built for galas and balls could ever be with a person like me. You are everything I am not, and is it really right that a woman so elegant has her mate at these things be unable to remember names or faces, or be able to make interesting small talk for hours on end? Should you really be weighed down by someone—“
Your rambling words were suddenly cut off when Farah pressed her lips to yours, light but insistent. Her hands were tender on your face, and you had always been powerless when she kissed you like this, so you merely melted into her warmth and relaxed as everything else melted away.
Her eyes were nearly gold in the light when you blinked yours open, and so gentle that it made your breath hitch. “These galas are nothing but fluff and words, things of little consequence in comparison to the rest of the world,” she said, her voice soft but fervent. “They’re bright, flashy shows of money that make a select few people happy and provide a stage for everyone else to conduct business. I remember names and faces because I’ve had sixteen years to learn them all — and even then, there’s always someone I forget. I don’t care about how well you can make interesting small talk, I care about how you think and act, I care about how you form your opinions on topics and issues that truly matter, not on if you can memorize the pedigree of Councillor Figueroa’s prized horses.”
You sniffed, then blinked as a vague memory came back. “He’s the man who kinda looks like a toad, right?”
Farah let out a laugh, giving you a proud smile. “You’re learning already.” She stroked your cheekbone with her thumb, studying you a moment before continuing. “You say I deserve someone who measures up to me, and I agree. That’s why I’m with you.”
You felt your eyes go wide, and you had to try a few times to finally speak. “But you’re… extraordinary. A better person than almost anyone I’ve ever met.”
“You say that as though you don’t think I see you in the same regard.”
Love and tenderness swelled in your chest, overflowing until you felt there could be nothing more than this, this incredible moment that made everything bright. Tears welled up and spilled over your lashes, and when Farah just carefully wiped them away, you leaned in and kissed her, if only to try and show her just how deeply you felt for her.
You wound your finger around the loose tendril of Farah’s hair when the kiss broke, admiring the way it bounced, and Farah bumped her nose against yours.
“Let’s go home — I want to hold you close tonight,” she gave a little smirk, “and maybe hold your hair back when you’re sick.”
You snorted and laid your head on her shoulder. “I can hold my liquor better than that. I think.”
She laughed, her real, true laugh that sounded so much better than all of the polite laughs you’d been listening to all night, and you couldn't help but smile at the sound. “I love you, more than I’ll ever be able to say.”
As she led you out of the castle, one hand tucked securely around your waist, you let yourself sink into her warmth, her scent, her. “I love you, too.”