Jon was bored. He had been doing this for about an hour now, and every single lady looked exactly the same. He really, really wasn't interested-not in marriage or anything, anyway. He had no aversion to dancing with the ladies, but he was supposed to be looking at potential brides here, and it wasn't exactly his favourite hobby. He was looking forward to watching Alanna descend, admitted, but then she wasn't always fluttering her fan and cooing like the rest of them. Jon snorted under his breath. Garry had no idea how lucky he was to get a sensible bride.

At that moment, as though Jon's thoughts had been a premonition, Alanna walked in at the top of the staircase. She looked nice, elegant; a real contrast to the sword-swinging shield maiden they had seen a day or so ago. But that was Alanna all over; if she had had to go to the convent, she would at least have done it properly. She was walking rather faster then she had to-she probably wanted to get it over with. Jon couldn't blame her. Still, in no time at all she was approaching him and his parents, head held high. Jon flashed her a smile, which she returned, relieved. Jon pitied her. If this was bad for him, it had to be ten times worse for her. Jon would have thought she'd have run away, or something. Strange girl, Alanna.

The vouching and acceptance ceremony went without a hitch, and Alanna retired to stand next to Gary. Hopefully, Jon glanced at his parents. Surely that was it… But the doors were flung open again. Damn. Jon swore silently and forced himself to pay attention to the names called by the herald.

"Lady Cythera of Elden, Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, Lady Daja Kisubo, and Lady Trisana Chandler…" The herald sounded rather disconcerted. So was Jon. He had no idea who these people were, with the exception of Cythera, and he took daily classes in the nobility of the realm. Admittedly, he never paid much attention, but he was sure he would have remembered such strange names. And one of the girls was clearly not Tortallan- Daja, the herald had called her. Suddenly Jon was interested again. He watched, captivated, as the four girls descended. The pair at the back-Trisana and Daja? Jon wasn't sure-they didn't move like ladies, yet their friend walking with Cythera most definitely did. He was so busy wondering what in all the Realms was going on that he was taken by surprise when they arrived at the bottom. They approached slowly, the front two looking like angels and the back two looking odd. Alanna was grinning.

The one walking beside Cythera, the stranger who acted like a lady, was the first to approach. Jon got a good look at her, and blinked, stunned. She was… astonishing. Her huge blue eyes were dancing, the light of a thousand candles shining out from her face. She looked like… elegance personified. She was the very picture of a noble maiden-except that those eyes were laughing. She was so different from anyone else in the room. Every single part of her screamed out, Look at me, I'm beautiful. She curtsied gracefully to. Of course she did. Oh, Mithros.

Roald was shaken too, but he spoke out just as usual. "Who approaches?"

"Lady Sandrilene fa Toren, high Lady of a foreign land." Well, that was obvious.

"Who will vouch for her?"

Numair stepped forward, to much murmuring. I will speak for the student of my dear friend."

Jon was dimly aware of his father's acceptance, and the introduction of the others, but he didn't care. He was far too interested in the first one.