As always, thank you ever so much for your faithful review and suggestions, Finduilas… It's good to have a reason to go on with stories ;) I do hope I don't make a mess of the death of your favourite character and that it will be worth the read anyway… This chapter is more about Matteo; I hope you'll like to know how he's doing.

Chapter II. Reception

Three nights later, in the Delryn estate, there was a huge party to celebrate Coreen's recent promotion. She had invited all of her close friends and many of her colleagues, at least the ones she could tolerate, as well as her brothers and parents. Her brothers had brought a few people with them, mostly Matteo. Samir's friends were there too, although they were busy in the kitchen or playing instruments or amusing people with tricks and such. Matteo was standing mostly alone near the entrance hall, in a darker corner of the house, where it was calmer. He reflected that he could really not refuse his friends when they invited themselves at celebrations held at the Delryn manor. After all, they were his friends. But he couldn't help but be annoyed in his big-brotherly manner when they were all turning around his sister and almost drooling over her. Which was happening just then. He sighed deeply, seeing his very best friend, an annoyingly brash cavalier by the name of Rhizoperth, bringing a drink to his sister.

"Always stealing the girls," he mumbled to himself. "Even my own sister."

He heard a small, feminine chuckle behind him. He turned around, a little embarrassed to have been overheard, and saw one of the said girls, which apparently had not been stolen yet by Rhizoperth. Although this state of facts would not hold for long, as Coreen would surely send Rye away quickly and this girl was particularly beautiful. Her hair was bright red, long and of course bearing curls. Her face was small and oval, with green, almond-shaped eyes and carefully painted lips. She wore an unadorned dress of green, which matched her eyes and hair.

Matteo blushed. "I-I'm sorry," he said, not sure why he needed to apologize, but uncomfortable with a silence.

The girl was trying hard not to laugh. He was a little wounded. He was about to turn around when she spoke: "Might I know your name, milord?"

"I am Matteo Delryn," he answered. The girl was looking at him, a sparkle in the eye still. He was growing mesmerized. He wondered if she was going to tell him her name or not. When it became apparent that she would not, he asked her: "Would you grace me with yours, milady?"

"My name is Calandra Catasbeina. Pleased to meet you."

She stood from the bench where she had been sitting with two of her friends to make a small curtsy. It was obvious from her curtsy that she considered him one of the nobility and that she was not. He almost groaned; he was uncomfortable in these situations and this only served to emphasize his usual awkwardness with girls. He always made a mess of things when he tried to convince them that he did not want to be called "milord". He replied with a polite bow of the head and stood there, wondering what to say next, and the silence stretched. The girl – Calandra – was apparently having a very great fun at watching him struggle.

"If I am not mistaken, you would be Lady Coreen's brother?", she asked finally.

"Yes," he answered. He was still wondering what she was getting at when she added:

"I worked a little with Lady Coreen. I am the priestess of the northern lands of the De'Arnisse, and she came to our village a few times. I must say she has great power."

"Yes, she is a powerful mage," he answered. "You are a priestess?"

"A servant of Lathander, milord."

"Then, surely, you will understand that a servant of Helm prefers to be called "Sir" to "milord", if an official title is necessary at all."

He was relieved to be able, for once, to put it more or less gracefully.

"Are you asking me to call you by your name, Sir Matteo?"

The people around were starting to notice them, he saw. Calandra's two girlfriends were looking at him with amusement and Rye, having abandoned Coreen earlier than expected, suddenly appeared and abducted one of Calandra's friends to the dance floor. Samir, appearing out of nowhere, did the same for the second girl. Calandra giggled as her friends were taken away by another one of those seductive knights of the Order and another one of those seductive half-elves. They were left alone together in their corner near the entrance hall.

"If you will allow me to use your name as well, Dawnbringer Calandra."

"Very well, Matteo."

He just stood there for another second, mesmerized for no particular reason. He berated himself for standing there like an idiot, but there was nothing coming out of his mouth.

"Would you ask me to dance, Matteo?"

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. Damnit, he thought, I'm fifty-six-years-old, for crying out loud! Can't I ask a girl to dance without acting like a sixteen-years-old boy? He made a step forward, putting on his best smile. He extended his arm.

"If you will indulge my doubtful skill, my lady, I would request a dance?"

She laughed and took his arm. "You really should not say that to girls when you ask them to dance, you know."

"Well, my apologies, but it is not exactly as though I can hide it."

She giggled again. He was growing addicted to the sound of her laughter. "I'll show you. You're a fighter, I'm sure you can learn. My brother always says it's not as hard as fencing."

"How do you know I'm a fighter in addition to be a cleric of Helm? I would be surprised if my sister talked about me to the people she works with."

He saw her blush a deep red. He wondered how he had embarrassed her, and was about to apologize when she answered, eyes looking for something to look at:

"Well… I figured that a priest would not look so… trained."

Well, maybe Coreen was right after all when she told me to wear this tunic because it made me big shoulders, he thought as he blushed a very deep red under her appreciative stare, which she apparently found the courage to bring back on him.

They were now in the middle of the dance floor. She let go of his arm, and extended her hand. He took it, and brought her in his arms, just enough for the dance. It was a relatively slow waltz, and she showed him when to start with a gentle push of her hand on his shoulder.

I'm a fool, he thought as he danced, his heart beating wildly. Why must I be an half-elf and not age as all the others! Time would have knocked some sense inside of me by now! Despite his best efforts, he couldn't help feeling like sixteen-years-old again, awkward and heart beating crazily.

ooooo

Calandra did her best to guide him. He was not that bad, despite his warnings. After a while of concentrating on the dance, she was used to it enough to be able to stare into his eyes. She was a little scared to look impudent, because he was of the nobility, after all. Of course, if he was anything like his sister, he would not care a little familiarity, and she had already seen that he was not a snob. She was grateful for that. But she was still a little afraid to be inappropriate if she just stared a little too hard.

When she finally lifted her head, he was looking down at her. His look was unreadable, but she imagined a sparkle in his eyes that no one else could see, a sparkle that sent butterflies flying through her stomach so hard she thought she might faint. Matteo suddenly tightened his grip around her waist; he had been very chivalrous and shy up until then, one hand carefully resting on the perfect middle of her back.

"You should sit, my lady, you do not look well."

Of course, the grip on her waist was not helping. She knew she should have eaten a decent supper, no matter if she could fit into this dress or not! She lowered her eyes and somehow it was easier now to control herself, and tell herself to keep her head clear and promise herself that, next time, she would eat as much as she was hungry and wear another dress! Her priestess's robes if necessary!

In the end she reached a chair, and fell into it gratefully.

"Are you ill, my lady? I am a healer, maybe I can help you," Matteo offered, very calmly. His hand was on her shoulder, and it was calming. She could sense he was a very powerful healer and a good cleric, with his careful and calm demeanour. Although he kept calling her "my lady", and she was no lady at all.

"It is nothing," she answered. She did not dare to look into his eyes. "The dance floor was a little crowded. I merely need a glass of water and a little air."

"Very well."

The hand left her shoulder. Both her friends were back by her side, looking at her curiously. The most talkative one, Thaycree, was about to say something, but Calandra silenced her with a murderous look. Then she lifted her head, wondering where Matteo had disappeared.

"He's gone for your glass of water, I believe," Thaycree said with her conspiratorial tone.

"What?", Calandra asked.

"I think she's right. He's gone himself to fetch your glass of water, Cala," Laura concurred.

"Oh," she said.

Well, maybe she shouldn't have worried about him being a noble, after all. She was starting to feel better, but kept her eyes shut tightly, and tried to keep the smile from her lips as she waited, thinking back of the depths of his blue eyes, the ready strength of his arm and shoulder and his hand in hers as they had danced. He had the hands of a worker too, not of a noble; they were square and strong and warm and a little scratchy – probably from the weapons wielding.

Thaycree cleared her throat with discretion and Calandra opened her eyes. Matteo was there, holding a crystal glass half-filled with water and a carafe of the same liquid.

"I thought maybe the other ladies might appreciate a refreshment," he said, and set the carafe on the table in the middle. A servant was following him with a tray holding a few glasses. Matteo had not set the glass down. He slowly extended it to Calandra.

"My lady."

She took the glass. Thank Lathander she was sitting. Surely she would have toppled over under his gaze.

"Thank you."

And she buried her face in her glass, taking a hasty sip of the fresh water.

"If you need anything, Guillaume here will oblige you," Matteo said. "I will leave you now to rest."

And the half-elf bowed to the ladies, before turning away and walking slowly towards the knight and bard that had abducted Thaycree and Laura earlier. Calandra didn't miss a single second of the show as he was walking away. Now, after touching him during the dance, she had no trouble imagining his back muscles shifting as he walked…

She blushed and buried her face in her glass again.

"Girls, I need some air."

"Obviously," Thaycree nodded. She took the glass of water as Laura helped her friend up and they walked to the door. There were two guards by the door, and the girls walked just a little further away in the government district, to be in sight of the guards, but out of earshot as long as they spoke low.

"That's the first time I see you so out of your shoes," Laura observed.

"Come on, you can call a cow a cow, we're peasants after all. She's crazy about him!", Thaycree added.

"No, it's crazy!", Calandra said. "I need to eat something otherwise I'm going to faint as soon as he looks my way!"

"I told ya not to let foolish thoughts of wearing this get to you," Thaycree reminded.

"Well, it worked, didn't it?"

The three girls started giggling and made their way back to the house, determined to ask Guillaume if there was something they could eat.

ooooo

"Anomen," Amousca called suddenly. Her tone was amused and surprised, so he turned from his conversation with Valygar to what she was drawing his attention to. Amousca, Imoen, Kelsey and Nalia were all staring open-mouthed at the dance floor.

"What is it, my lady?", the knight asked.

"Matteo is dancing with a beautiful young woman," Imoen told her brother-in-law.

"What?", came the surprised answer of the father. He rummaged through his many pockets until he found his spectacles, and he put them on. "Oh, I see," Anomen said.

The three women were looking very pleased and amused.

"We should not stare at him like that. It is inappropriate," Nalia said, not taking her eyes off him. It was too interesting to see the timid warrior-priest finally be dancing with someone.

"Well, Samir will have had more than one unexpected success in his life," Anomen stated. "Matteo is actually good at waltz."

The other old friends of Anomen laughed as they remembered countless times when Samir had tried to show his father a few tricks on how to tell tales or how to dance or how to sing – Anomen had a beautiful voice, but the only songs he would sing were prayers to his Lord.

ooooo

"So, lovely lady Coreen, how are you tonight?"

The sorceress turned with an amused smile to the sweet voice of Rhizoperth.

"I am very well, thank you. How are the days at the Order?"

"It is rather calm at the moment. Nothing deserving of my great skill," the paladin teased.

"I see," Coreen answered wryly. Rhizoperth truly liked Coreen, her simplicity, her honesty and her sense of humour. It was also a form of sport to make conversation with her. And, moreover, it was funny to see Matteo getting annoyed at him turning around his sister. Although he would never do anything less than honourable.

"Hey, guys, you're missing the show," Samir suddenly bumped in between the two, turning them with subtlety to where Matteo was standing next to a very beautiful girl who was laughing.

"No, I don't believe it," Coreen exclaimed.

"Neither did I, but after some snooping around I can confirm that he is smitten," Samir said.

"Let's help him," Rhizoperth decided, his tone showing amusement and irony, both. "I'll take the black-haired one."

"Alright, I'm asking the blond."

Both started off towards Matteo and Calandra. Coreen made a half-smile, but turned the other way before her friends reached their targets, otherwise she might attract Matteo's attention. She walked to where Morul was, rather alone in his remote corner of the house. He was a very good engineer, but he lacked the ability to make easy contacts with people, and he was rather shy. And he was also older than most of her colleagues here.

"Well, Mor, if that's not a sad face I've never seen one," she started as she sat across him.

"Oh, I am not sad. Merely… isolated."

"I can see that. Would you prefer me to ask you to dance, or to a visit of my mother's laboratory in the cellar?"

The old mage crooked a smile. "A dance would be perfect, my ever-young colleague. It will remind me what it is to be young."

Morul had not been young in quite some time, and he was older since the death of his wife. Speaking to Amousca of the "old times" and such helped him to some extent, but it seemed this wound would not heal on him. So Coreen just took him to the dance floor and danced with him for a time, and she was rewarded by a warm smile from her friend.

ooooo

"I hope you are feeling better, my lady?", she suddenly heard.

Calandra spun around, and found herself face to face with Matteo and his two friends. She was feeling better now that she had drank a little, taken some air and eaten something.

"Much better, thank you," she answered. She was in the entrance hall with her two friends, and they were dressing to get back to their inn.

"We were wondering if you had thought of an escort," the other knight said.

"Athkatla is a safe enough city, but it is always better to have someone to walk over with you," Matteo's brother, who was supposed to be a bard, added.

In fact, the girls had planned to ask a carriage, and Calandra was hesitating, wondering if she should tell them so, when Thaycree said:

"That would be very generous of you, milords."

"Our thanks for your kindness," Laura added.

"Yes, thank you very much," Calandra said.

She saw the roguish smile on Matteo's face then, and wondered what he was up to when suddenly she saw him take her coat off its hook on the wall. He gallantly helped her to put it on. She blushed a little, and let him help her.

They walked out, the six of them, into the night. The guards saluted as the youngsters left the house and they took the road towards the center of the city.

"Ah, I'm so glad you're staying at the Five Flagons," Samir exclaimed when they told them where they were staying for the night. "This way I won't have to give you my advertisement."

Thaycree burst into laughter. "You're doing an advertisement for the Five Flagons?"

"Of course!", Samir exclaimed. "It involves a silly tune and a lot of clapping my hands, silly, truly…"

The girls giggled a little when he indeed started to sing a silly tune and clap his hands. It was even rhyming and speaking about flagons, drinks, pillows and theatres.

In no time they reached the inn. The gallant paladin held the door open for the ladies, and the gallant men accompanied them inside.

"Well, thank you for your escort," Calandra said in the end. She put her eyes on all of them but they rested a little longer on Matteo.

"It was a pleasure, ladies," the warrior-priest answered. "Good night."

They wished them goodnight, and the three men left for the darkness again.