---

Cherry blossom gaze roamed listlessly from the sidelines while the gathering crowd continued to the parading dances and jubilant cheers. Others such as those of business and talk of finances stood near the bar, those of similar hobbies keeping a close-knit group or older ladies of higher society bantered and gossiped about whoever passed in their view as if they had nothing better to do.  Uncomfortable shoes were since removed from her feet. “I’m not entirely sure what there is to enjoy here.” came a quieted murmur. Avarice sat upon a long curled cushioned bench. Her heeled shoes in front of her on the floor. One of the house servants had provided her a few handkerchiefs upon request as she gently dabbed her dainty little nose.

“O-oh good, Miss Avarice I found you! You mustn’t run off so suddenly like that!” Unchanging expression shifted towards a maid that had assisted in chaperoning her here in Ira-Gula’s absence to the grand mansion that rivaled many of the estates in Odersten alone. “Ah, you fret more than Ira-Gula does, Miss Marie.” Avarice hummed in nonchalance as she bent forward slightly and brought her dainty little foot to meet her hand, noticing the slight swell in her ankle from the heels she’d worn. Her mother wore them with such grace, and never once had she seen the garden witch complain about them. Attention then turned to the brown-eyed maid where she was met with an apologetic stare. “Perhaps when you’ve collected yourself, you could entertain the idea of a dance or two miss?”

Avarice merely blinked as she returned her attention to the waltzing crowd as she sat up straight and clasped her hands together and simply shook her head. “I have only had a few lessons with Mrs. Ethel and they were in private.” came her polite dismissal of the subject. She couldn’t bring herself to do so as despite her rather odd nature, she did not feel wholly graceful on her toes just yet – or at all if she were being honest with herself. “Besides, I think Osmanthus is cross with me and I am uncertain as to why.” She did not show it, but her tone shifted slightly bothered by the absence of the Maine Coon. The woman he seemed content with beheld beauty that far surpassed anything she had ever seen too. The maid was a bit at a loss for words though as her lips parted to speak, Avarice exhaled a mousey sneeze. “Goodness, did you remember to drink your tea this morning?” a napkin was fetched and offered to the pale maiden as she dabbed her nose. “Sort of I suppose. But it was exceptionally far too bitter for my liking.”

---

Dress uwu
Still no icky wine. 

---

Her adventures with the historian had alas come to an end, and the two had parted ways. The distraction and the thrill of the unknown adventure, no matter how tame, had helped ease her thoughts at least a little. However, no matter how distracted she became, she would always wander right back to the beginning of this nightmare. The dizzying flow of the graceful dancers hadn't slowed at all, the only thing morphed being the tempo to which they moved.

A new sight graced her eyes, though, as she cast her stare towards the sidelines, anywhere but to the finality of the evening elevated above. The alter. This one bespoke a comfortable familiarity as she found herself gravitating to the pallid maiden who she had met before. A promise to exchange company that she still intended to keep. If she could help it, she would still have her independence. Her own residence. While she had agreed to this arrangement, begrudgingly, she hadn't exactly claimed it would be a peaceful and pleasant exchange after the initial ceremony.

“I have only had a few lessons with Mrs. Ethel and they were in private.” She would arrive at the tail end of the women's exchange, a look given to the attending hand maid. Her eyes glittered with soft spoken concern, and she had features that seemed warm and friendly in comparison to the easily misread aloofness of Avarice's disposition. One she had learned shielded a girl at least partially like herself beneath its stoic bulwark. “Besides, I think Osmanthus is cross with me and I am uncertain as to why.” Her head would tilt, gaze lapsing in the close area to notice that the feline was, indeed, not present currently. A slight frown tugged at her lips, but before she could interject and impose a question as to where the cat may have gotten to, the attendant would instead inquire about her wellbeing.

“Sort of I suppose. But it was exceptionally far too bitter for my liking.” She would offer a smile as she rounded in front of the chair where the youth had settled to regain herself, her hands flat upon her legs, the first instance that they were not busying themselves into nervous knots or picking nails over gossamer fabric. "Is there anything... I can have the staff get you?" She inquired, ensuring that her vocals remained slow as to not trip over her own tongue. It was a manner of speech she was becoming accustomed to. Far more even without her stammer, but yet lacking the rush of her exuberance. "Thank you so much for coming, Avarice!" She would add afterwards, unable to restrain the spread of her simper.

---

Avarice had rambled on to her maid and failed to realize the nearing approach of the familiar face. The one individual she had come for to begin with as she was not party go-er like her father was. Cherry blossom gaze turned following the approaching movement and her cheeks flushed shyly before she adjusted her dress accordingly. Her maid offered an amicable greeting with a simple little curtsy that came after. Avarice could tell the older woman was fighting back the excitement of the potential budding friendship. Is there anything… I can have the staff get you?

“Ah,” She never care for when her staff pined over her with worry whenever so much as the smallest sniffle escaped. However, she wasn’t one to just simply send them away either. “No that is quite alright, I am fine.” Avarice would assure with a wave of her hand of dismissal. She then gently waved the maid off whom quietly obliged to leave the two young women in peace however remained close enough to keep an ever watchful eye. Thank you so much for coming, Avarice!

“Thank you for the invitation Arabella,” came her return. “You look quite lovely this evening, I think.” She hummed in her casual nonchalance. “I hope the event has been kind to you – I am not entirely certain what to expect of such festivities.” There was admittance in her voice, a truthful one as this was perhaps her first event – wedding even to be in attendance.

---

Dress uwu
Still no icky wine.

---

“Ah,” her smile only unfurled further, perhaps the first true spark of happiness she'd felt since the dawn of the new day. Of the final day. Her last notes of freedom before she would be placed upon a swing in a golden cage called matrimony. Though to say her wings were unsundered would be a lie just as much as her smile was for most of the time. Her recollections were far from whole, and in some respects, she wished she would have known nothing. She was a mixture of grateful for her visits to the doctor to 'rid her of the night terrors' and loathing. To know they were willing and able to strip another of their person for their own greed and gain had a sickening repulsion rolling down her spine.

She would push such thoughts away, however, as she bowed in return to the parting maid. “No that is quite alright, I am fine.” She would nod, her worry assuaged for at least the time being. “Thank you for the invitation Arabella. You look quite lovely this evening, I think. I hope the event has been kind to you – I am not entirely certain what to expect of such festivities.” She would release a soft, quick breath, a hand folding upon the chaste embrace of the tight corset as she would allow a quiet giggle to leave her. "Thank you, though I have to say this is the f-first and hopefully the last time i wear one of these." Perhaps if they were in a bit more private area, she would have relinquished her woeful thoughts towards the evening, but there would be time after. Time she intended fully to use to take up the invitation the lady had presented to her as well.

"But I heard you mention dancing?" She hummed, a slight note of soft fondness lingering upon her lips as she offered an outstretched hand. "I can teach y-you a dance I know." In a way, it would preserve her culture, one that she may very well be the last surviving member of. To think that the tribe's daughter would be sold off to marriage and not even be represented by one of the shamans that had presided over her mother and father's union. Those that should have sealed her hand to another had she and her very life not been stolen away. She could only scarcely recall their lessons now. Oneyr, one of the old gods would not be invoked here, save for her own soft, and unheard prayers at the altar.

She would not be with her anam cara, however.

In the same breath, she could not openly bely such things either. Stipulations and impositions that the real Arabella would have little to no understanding and knowledge of.

---

Some of the fabric that dressed the pale maiden proved some sense of discomfort. Itchy. The corset was bordering suffocating while making some haphazard effort to seamlessly adjust to the best of her ability. Arabella, however looked just as lovely tonight as this was her night. Her mind wandered in absence, wondering if this was how her mother spent the night of her matrimony. Though the longer she lingered on the thought and knowing her mother and her rather reclusive nature, sounded beyond farfetched. Thank you, Came the maidens gentle thanks. Freckled features casually shifted at an angle to acknowledge. …though I have to say this is the f-first and hopefully the last time I wear one of these.

“Agreed.” Avarice regarded in her usual flattened tone. She was almost thankful that she’d never been required to attend to such events in the past. Or rather she was never allowed to. However, she was here on behalf of maiden before her in some strange hopeful endeavor to form a further acquaintanceship. But I heard you mention dancing? Cheeks flushed softly as her gaze immediately fell to the floor ever so shyly. I can teach y-you a dance I know.

Delicate digits latched onto the skirt of her dress, digging into the fabrics as she hesitated. “I am not very good on my feet.” She admitted shyly. It had been some time since she had visited Ethel’s dance studio. Not intentionally so, but news of the temporary closure due to private family matters, or of the assumption. Finally with evident reluctance did she accept Arabella’s hand as she carefully stood.

---

Dress uwu
Still no icky wine.

---

“Agreed.” There was a diminutive sense of relief that she was not the only one who held this opinion over the garment. Her "mother" wore one nearly constantly, and she had fussed with her at first to do the same as it gave a boost to assets that would aid in what she now knew to be a wedding advertisement. Or she could only assume based on the guests they had allowed her to see. It mattered little now, and she certainly could not bear to wear the thing on a daily basis as her.... instructor Savang had either. The contraptions she had presented were horrid enough and the mere recollection of them was enough to nearly melt her cheeks.

She would turn her thoughts from such embarrassing notions as the weight of the maidens hand landed daintily within her own. She would aid her from her chair, offering the more gentlemanly greeting with a teasing flourish and a softly muffled laugh. “I am not very good on my feet.” She would shake her head lightly, a soft hum leaving her in consideration. "This one is easy I think." She would offer. Her people were not so concerned with looking proper and polished as they celebrated, while she believed this would have enough dignity and grace, it was certainly not the mirror of those who waltzed around them.

It also gave her the chance to behold the lady's gown in full. "Oh, Avarice! You look like a-a fairy!" She would gasp lightly, the dress like a delicate dream. It complimented her well, and she couldn't help but to admire it. "Beautiful."

---

While it did not show on her face, her mind muddled with a hissing growl of doubt and uncertainty. A distant whisper sneering in her ear alone of the impending failure and humility that lay only moments head. To ignore the noises were easier said than done. Avarice did well to swallow the threat of anxiety twisting in curdling in her stomach. Taking Arabellas hand, she stood. Dainty little feet planting flatly upon expensive marble was quite the reprieve in comparison to the heels of her shoes. This one is easy I think. Cherry blossom pink eyes blinked while her head tilted slightly causing a stray white curl to fall upon her freckled features. Curiosity bested her, interested in this new routine.

Oh, Avarice! She was not expecting the gasp as if to assume something startled the bride. Avarice turned to look over her shoulder wondering if Arabella had noticed something she did not with an unchanging expression still. You look like a-a fairy! This took a moment for her to register. That Arabella was referring to her directly. Beautiful.

Freckled cheeks flushed a reddish hue. Digits curling into the fabrics of her dress uncertain how to address the compliment. “Oh.” Her brows furrowed, troubled. “Is that a good thing?”

---

Dress uwu
Still no icky wine.

---

Upon their first meeting, she had been mesmerized by the effortless grace the maiden exhibited, with or without meaning, she didn't know. It seemed to come to her so easily, a feat that Arabella had wished for, especially after hours of Babington forcing her to balance books upon her head and even walk with them. Was the woman privy to her situation? If she was, she certainly hadn't breathed a word of it, hadn't even offered a word of warning ver the atrocious secret her captors had told to her. Perhaps she really had just accepted that Arabella had really recovered and walked among them once again.

Would she be upset to know the truth of it? Regardless, she could only attempt to press such trivial concerns from her thought at the moment, instead focusing on the reverie at hand. The girl before her would flush, perhaps a mirror to the way her own cheeks burned often times. In the current, she could only offer a soft giggle of apology to leave her as she nodded in affirmation that her words were, indeed, intended as a compliment. "Of course!" If allowed, she would raise her arm that was linked hand in hand to the young lady and give her a spin to allow her gaze to take in the fine details of the gown that fit her so well.

Following that, she would take her to a larger area.It was still a comfortable distance from the majority of gathered dancers, yet it was clear of the tables and chairs for those like them who wished to b away from the main floor. She would change the way her hand rested against the other's, guiding her hand upwards so that their palms vertically rested against one another. She would step to her side, her other hand gently gripping her dress tails so they did not obstruct her steps. "S-start by going in a circle," she would instruct softly, her feet slowly beginning to pace in the given. "One, two, three, four.... and then the lady - y-you, in this case, would spin in the opposite direction. Like so." In demonstration, she would release her gentle grip and give a soft flourish of her gown as she would whirl in a pirouette. "Normally, the music would be much faster, b-but this is easier to learn to, hm?"

---

A fairy. Came the quiet musings as she and Arabella hooked arms if only briefly before released into a simple twirl. In turn, it allowed her dress to be taken in full in a single sweep before settling once more upon the affirmation. The two maidens approached a larger area for free movement. S-start by going in a circle, Avarice began to follow. Once or twice she may have misstepped, clumsy in comparison to her usual gait. One, two, three, four… Cherry blossom pink eyes were attentive as if such a situation had her life depended on it. A willingness to learn and comprehend the exercise of dance. …and then the lady y-you, in this case, would spin in the opposite direction. Like so.

She watched Arabella’s demonstration. In turn, Avarice hesitated for a moment as she stared blankly at her feet. Finally, she took a step back and shifted her feet into a pirouetting twirl. Her dress danced in a gentled harmonizing flow. Eyes widened slightly with surprising awe as she looked to Arabella in searching approval. Normally, the music would be much faster, b-but this is easier to learn to, hm?

“Yes,” she answered simply. Delicate digits then curling into the fabric of her dress. “Might we try again?” She wanted to get the steps right. Perhaps something she could show Miss Ethel what she had learned.

---

Dress uwu
Still no icky wine.