Chapter Text
I was not more than sixteen, full of hormones and that universal teenage angst, the final time that my parents managed to drag me to a fancy ball - our yearly banquet, held in our family mansion. In fact, one may suppose it was Aleyan who had insisted I attend instead - after all, as the only daughter in my family, concern began to mount that I had not yet found a ‘compatible suitor’ with whom to marry. This, of course, did not bother me in the least - I would have been perfectly content if I were to remain unwed the rest of my days.
But Aleyan, proper and a stickler for tradition as ever, would hear none of it. “I have made sure one of our former knights will be in attendance,” he’d grinned, his wild blond hair combed back for once, the color at odds with the deep indigo of his overcoat. It made his heterochromatic eyes stand out even more than usual. “Perhaps you will find him to your liking, little sister.”
“And if I am not to his?” I’d countered, already displeased at being forced to wear such a ridiculous dress. They were not my style, but I had long since grown past the age where it was appropriate for me to sneak Feiran’s clothes from his chambers. Skirts, corsets, and dresses it was - so long as I lived in my parents’ home , I’d begun to think.
“Well, then adjust your temper,” was all Aleyan had said to me before setting foot into the banquet hall, where scores of uppity party-goers were already gathered. People - all nobles, of course - laughed and drank heartily, all while slow, delicate music echoed in the background. The latter was one of the few aspects of these outings I found remotely tolerable.
My mother and father quickly spotted old friends, and rushed over to speak with them; Feiran, ever my meek and timid shadow, stayed close and quiet, nevertheless looking every bit the gentleman in his suit and collar: a miniature version of our elder brother’s. Myself, I sported a long, bright blue gown which trailed onto the floor, a wave of embroidered diamonds cresting around the bodice. I had completed the ensemble - against my will, of course - with a fur shawl, a striking white which glistened in the chandelier lights.
Any girl my age would have been head over heels for such an outfit - or at being at such a reception at all - but myself, I was merely content to be at home without the fanfare: where my meager collection of much-read books resided, where I could still make excuses to walk through the vineyards in search of interesting insects or other curious beasts…
Eventually, even Feiran grew tired of my sulking, and he soon found a boy his age with whom to converse. Although this left me on my own, I looked on at him with pride; as a knight-in-training, Feiran still had a lot to learn, but he seemed an eager pupil, and I hoped, as his protective twin sister, that he would be as successful as Aleyan had been - if only for Feiran’s own sake. Aleyan was determined to have another knight in the family, and far be it in his outdated mind for his sister to become one instead.
I had barely taken refuge in a secluded corner of the hall - furnished with comfortable upholstered seating - before I heard Aleyan calling my name. “Féanne!”
I glanced up, only to see him all but dragging a poor soul towards my direction - around Aleyan’s own age, maybe five-foot-nine, with dark disheveled hair and a glass of wine in his hand. Undoubtedly, this was the person whom Aleyan hoped to be my suitor.
This former knight was, without question, a comely man, square features just barely obscured by his thick and feathery bangs. Maybe due to my own reluctance to attend the ball, I could not help but recognize he also appeared less than eager to be here - let alone dragged around by my brother. “Lord Forzeno." Aleyan bowed, motioning in my direction. “My dear younger sister, the Honourable Féanne Aureville, of whom I spoke.”
“Lord Forzeno” shot me a cursory look, which I returned in kind - I wished for him to know just how much I already loathed being in his presence, hoping that it would deter him from asking for my hand and agreeing to my brother’s proposition.
“I have already told you to forgo the formalities,” the man sighed, taking a long sip from his wine glass.
“Of course, Lata. My apologies.” Aleyan bowed again, clapping his hands together. “Shall I let you get acquainted, then? Perhaps a dance?”
“Absolutely not ,” I hissed, shooting a vitriolic glare in Aleyan’s direction. There was no way I was going to be dancing with this man, any man, “lord” or not.
Aleyan clenched his fists at his sides, returning the look tenfold. “ Sister ,” he spat, “mind yourself, you are insulting one of our fort’s finest knights -”
“I said no -”
My brother ran a hand down his bright red face, sighing. “Excuse me,” he muttered at last, storming off, inevitably in search of alcohol himself. He never could find it within himself to butt heads with me for long - possibly because my stubbornness proudly matched his own. If he persisted now, in front of Lord Forzeno - Lata - it would be a long evening indeed.
Aleyan gone, Lata surprised me by taking a seat across the table, setting down his glass of wine. He never met my eye, instead focused on the tray of cookies and tartlets arranged on a platter between us. He grabbed a handful, chewing them slowly, deliberately, all while ignoring my presence entirely. I was unsure whether to be offended or relieved - maybe merely unused to having a man before me who was not clambering for my affection.
It was a pleasant surprise.
Then, just when I was beginning to grow bored and was deciding to leave, Lata rose to his feet and straightened his jacket. “You wish to make this as quick and painless for your brother, correct?” he asked flatly - oddly sure of himself.
I frowned. “Excuse me?”
“I am no happier to be here than you appear to be.” He took a long gulp of his wine, emptying the glass entirely, before setting it down on the table between us. Lata extended his hand towards me, then, that same bored expression glossing over his face. “If you wish, I can ensure that you appease your brother while leaving here as soon as possible.”
I narrowed my eyes, unsure of what sort of plot he had in mind. “What do you propose?”
“A dance, as your brother suggested.”
“I do not dance ,” I scoffed. I knew how - I had no choice, being born into this family - but I avoided it as often as possible; I’d grown up hiding under tables in banquet halls as a child, hoping that any boy my age would opt out of asking me out onto the floor.
“Don’t worry yourself over that; you won’t dance long.” Lata clicked his tongue, and I looked him over - I could not determine what was going on in his mind, and I was a little apprehensive to ask. Well , I allowed after a beat, it cannot be worse than awkwardly lingering around here with him.
I accepted Lata’s hand and, rather brusquely, he dragged me over to where other couples were already mid-step amidst the music; he avoided my gaze, and his movements were robotic but swift - likely muscle memory, as if he were mentally removing himself from this place altogether. I wished briefly I had that sort of intellectual strength; to transport myself away from this pompous event, and back to my room, to -
The next step I took, I nearly sent both Lata and myself tumbling down onto the ground; I’d walked on… something , something that felt very much like a shoe - a very expensive shoe at that. Lata hissed, ostensibly in pain, above me, he hurriedly excused himself and limped over to the couches where we had been seated earlier, leaving me all alone in the middle of the hall’s dance floor.
Even though I'd wanted nothing to do with this man ever again, my cheeks still burned crimson as I stood in place; how had I managed to step on this man’s foot, even with the years and years of dance instruction I’d been given my entire life…?
And then I recalled his promise - to make this ‘quick and painless’ for us both, and for Aleyan - and through a dance no less. Had this been Lata’s plan all along? I scanned the crowd for him, and amidst the hordes of people, we locked eyes where he sat on a chair; he gave a single nod, then once again helped himself to the desserts laid out on the table.
I chuckled to myself, but my humor was short lived; Aleyan was on me in an instant, yanking me by my upper arm with such force that my shawl slipped off of my shoulders and onto the ground. A glass of white wine swirled in his grasp. “Did you step on his foot?” he barked under his breath.
“I told you it was unwise for us to dance,” I reminded him, far from intimidated.
Aleyan huffed and let me go without another word, muttering something uncouth under his breath as he left. For myself, I could only claim this a small victory; I had, if but temporarily, gotten Aleyan off my back - thanks to this Lata Forzeno, no less.
I smiled to myself as I walked towards the wall of the room, eager to help myself to some of the punch. In my mind, I had earned a reprieve from the social expectations - not to mention, learned a new trick to get out of ever dancing with anyone ever again.