Tales from the Academy

Chapter 34

"But they aren't even seniors, sir!" said Anny.

"I know, I know," said Commandant Sylvanus, "but I'm afraid there's nothing that can be done about it, cadet."

"Nothing? But… but you're the commandant, sir!"

Sylvanus gave a sour chuckle. "There are lots of people who outrank, me cadet. And when it comes to any sort of social matter, Lady Lewelynne Vorgallan is one of them."

"Until now I'd never even heard of her, sir," said Anny a bit grumpily.

"You don't travel in the same circles as her, cadet. Neither do I. But she's a close confidant of Lady Alys Vorpatril—I imagine you've heard of her!"

"Yes, sir. "I've met her a few times at Vorkosigan house. I know her son, too. But what…"

"Vorgallan's grandmother was the one who first dreamed up the Fall Social when her own son was a cadet here, over eighty years ago. It became a tradition and the Vorgallan women have considered it their right to run the affair ever since. Just the way Lady Alys has laid claim as the Emperor's social coordinator. Past commandants have been happy to let them do it, and I'm afraid there's no changing it now. When I saw the invitations I did make some inquiries, but Lady Lewelynne is determined to include all the female cadets, no matter what year they are. She thinks it will be…'lovely'."

"But she didn't invite any of us last year!"

"I think she's only recently become aware of your existence."

Anny gave out a long sigh and Sylvanus quirked an eyebrow. "Why are you so against this, cadet?"

"It… it seems like it is going to be very awkward, sir. I just thought if it was only me there, it would be twenty-five times less awkward."

"Well, an officer should be able to handle any situation, cadet. I'm afraid you'll just have to adapt."

"Yes, sir," said Anny miserably. "But what about the dresses?"

"Dresses?"

"Yesterday Lady Lewelynne contacted me directly, asking for the measurements of all the girls. She wants to have gowns made for all of us! Sir! I am not going to…!" She bit off her remark before she was insubordinate.

"What's this?" said Sylvanus, frowning. "She had no business going to you directly. And she didn't even copy my office!"

"Sir! We are cadets, not… not dance partners!"

"Yes, yes, surely. You've earned the right to wear your uniforms. I will let Lady Vorgallan know that all the cadets will be in uniform."

"Thank you, sir," sighed Anny in relief. She had been steeling herself to fight the commandant over this if necessary and her stomach had been in knots all morning. That was the reason she'd tried to get the other girls uninvited. She didn't want to get them into trouble if she did have to cross the line.

Sylvanus gave her a twisted look that might have been a grin. "Y'know cadet, every year I think that I've finally gotten a handle on having you here—and each year I'm proven wrong. But my term as commandant is over next year and I'm going to be very glad to get back to a combat command."

"I can understand that, sir. And… and I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused you, sir."

He looked at her for a quite while in that way he did when he was thinking. "I was wrong about something else, too, cadet."

"Sir?"

"When I first heard you were coming here… well, I wasn't happy. All I could think about was all the trouble it was going to cause…"

"I can understand that, sir."

"But you don't understand why I was so unhappy. I was quite sure that after all the trouble it would all be for nothing in the end and there's nothing I hate more than wasted effort. I didn't think you could do it, Anny. But I was wrong. And I'm glad that I was."

"I… I… thank you, sir." Anny could feel herself blushing.

"Don't thank me. You've earned it all—the hard way. But you know you've set a hell of a standard for the other girls to try and match."

"I'm sure they'll manage, sir. Most of them, anyway. Just so long as they don't have to wear dresses at the formal."

Sylvanus laughed. "At least we can spare them that! I'll take care of it, cadet."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Anny got up from her chair and saluted and the Commandant returned it.

"Carry on, Cadet-Captain."

[Scene Break]

"Why are you springing this on us now, Payne?" demanded Cadet-Captain Gearing. "The dance is only two days off!" The eight other company commanders of the battalion all nodded or growled their agreement.

"Because I only got the word myself this morning," replied Anny, trying to hold on to her temper. "I've been trying to get some sort of directive for the last three weeks! But now it's official: each company will have two or three of the girls attached to it for the formal. You'll get the list of which one's you'll have as soon as I can write it up."

"It's gonna throw off our drill," grumbled one of the other captains. "Most of 'em are just plebes!"

"They've been getting extra practice," said Anny. "And it's not like we're doing any intricate battalion maneuvers. Just the march into the hall and then the Grand March at the start. Nothing complicated. After that, they're on their own. And they've been excused from their regular duty tomorrow, so if you want to do some practice with them in your companies, you can."

"Why can't they just put them all in a lump?" asked another. "Just have one screwed up company instead of ten?"

"Look, none of this was my idea!" snapped Anny, letting her irritation creep into her voice. "This comes straight from the Commandant's Office. If you don't like it, take it up with him! Now I've got to go."

She turned and strode off, leaving the nine peeved cadet-captains to stew on their own. She couldn't really blame them for being ticked off, but she didn't have much sympathy left for anyone else just at the moment. In just eight days she would be leaving on the big training cruise. She had a million things to do to get ready for that and here she was still wasting time on this damn dance!

She checked the time and broke into a trot. After a few minutes she reached the warehouse where the Quartermaster Department had its offices. She barged through the doors and went up to the counter where a corporal was checking something on the comconsole. He looked up as she approached.

"Where's the RQS?" she asked without preamble.

"Uh, he's in the back somewhere…"

"Well get him!"

The man stared at her, pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow. She sighed and said: "Please? Pretty please?" She batted her eyelashes at him.

Finally he chuckled. "I'll see if I can find him." He disappeared through the door that led to the main warehouse. Anny stood there for a good five minutes, tapping her fingers on the counter before Regimental Quartermaster Sergeant Sheads appeared.

"Well, Miss Payne, what brings you here today?" he asked.

"Sergeant, I'm hoping—praying—that you've got some of the black braid for the dress grays."

Sheads scratched at the side of his nose. "Oh, I imagine I've got a roll or two of that around here somewhere. How much do you need?"

"All of it! Every meter you've got. And I'll need two dozen rolls of black thread, needles, pins and scissors. If you don't have enough of the braid then I'm gonna need some black dye. It's an emergency."

Shead's eyebrows shot up. "You have a requisition for all this?"

"This comes straight from the Commandant's Office. The paperwork will follow, but we need this stuff right away!"

"What's all the rush?"

"It's for the Formal, Sergeant!" said Anny in exasperation.

"Oh ho! Why didn't you say so?" He turned to the corporal. "Hans, you scare up the other stuff, I'll get the braid. You'd never find it yourself." He looked back at her. "I'll be back in a jiffy." The pair went through the door, leaving Anny alone.

She wasn't sure just what constituted a jiffy, but it was nearly twenty minutes before Sheads and the corporal returned. It hadn't been entirely wasted time as she'd been able to use her compad to make up a list of which companies the twenty-six girls were going to be assigned to and fired it off to them and the nine other company commanders.

"Here you are, Miss Payne!" said Sheads. He indicated the box the corporal was carrying. "Looks like I've got maybe a hundred… hundred and fifty meters of the braid. Some of it's pretty old…"

"It'll do!" said Anny. She snatched the box and hurried out. "Thanks!" she called over her shoulder. She went back the way she had come and awkwardly balanced the box under one arm while she used her wrist com. "Abbie? I got it! Start ripping!"

Lady Lewelynne Vorgallan had been 'terribly saddened' by the Commandant's insistence that the female cadets wear uniforms like all the boys, but she had kindly offered to help the twenty plebes to acquire dress grays when it became apparent that the normal supplier could not meet such a short deadline with no prior notice. Anny had been grateful and her opinion of Vorgallan had ticked up several notches. If the plebes had been forced to attend in their undress blacks they were going to stick out like twenty very sore thumbs. Vorgallan had engaged several of Vorbarr Sultana's finest tailors to do the job and several large boxes had been delivered to the Women's Barracks that very morning.

Anny could still feel the sensation of horror that had surged through her when she read the note from Lady Vorgallan that had come with the boxes. Especially the part that read:

I do hope you appreciate the marvelous little improvements that were made to those dreary gray uniforms.

Skirts. The skirts they could deal with. They were separate pieces and could just be left in the boxes. But the braid! Pink braid on the uniforms instead of black. Pink. Very, very pink.He turned to the corporal

acquire dress grays when it became apparent

At first she'd despaired—after she'd kicked one of the boxes across the room—but then several of the girls with sewing experience claimed they could fix things if they had the black braid. So, after meeting with the other company commanders, it had been off to see Sheads. Maybe, just maybe they could pull this off. She wasn't entirely sure why she even cared. It wasn't like this damn dance really mattered! But somehow… somehow she couldn't leave something undone if there was a way to do it at all. Everything done well for the glory of God, as the Countess would say. She doubted that God gave a damn about the Formal, either, but here she was anyway.

She got back to the barracks and dumped the box into the hands of the girls who could use it and slumped down on a bunk amidst a pile of torn off pink braid to try and catch her breath. She was so tired she wished she had a few tablets of Dynatrim to keep her going for the next seventy-eight hours…

"Captain?" She looked up and there was one of the girls with a large box in her hands.

"What's that?" She asked suspiciously. She was quite certain she didn't want to know the answer.

"Dunno, sir. It was just delivered to the gate. It's got your name on it."

Anny sighed and took it and set it on her lap. There was a flimsy on top and she winced when she saw that it was from Lady Vorgallan. She opened it. Anny Dearest, it began. She snorted; she'd never even met the woman.

Anny Dearest, here is the finishing touch. Remember: they go on the left side. LLV.

PS, see you soon! It will be marvelous!

She opened the box and groaned.

"What is it, sir?"asked the cadet.

"Our corsages."

[Scene Break]

"Battalion! Present—Arms!" Cadet-Lieutenant Colonel Vorharris's voice rang down the serried ranks of the 1st Battalion of Cadets, Imperial Service Academy. Anny brought her sword up in front of her face and then slowly lowered the point until it was near the ground. Every other cadet in the battalion did the same thing. It looked and felt odd: normally all the rank and file carried rifles, but for the Fall Formal, the rifles had been left back in the barracks and everyone was wearing their swords. Their formation was odd, too: half the battalion was in line facing the other half, forming a long corridor in between them. C Company was at the left end of the right wing and approaching from the left was a… gaggle of flouncing, giggling young women in a kaleidoscope of ball gowns.

To the right was the imposing entrance to Emperor Ezar's Hall. The place had once been an enormous indoor riding arena. The Cetagandan invasion had left it a burned-out shell with just the massive stone walls remaining. By the time the Academy had been rebuilt, the military was phasing out horse cavalry and the hall was converted into a multi-use facility. Tonight it would host the annual Senior Class Fall Formal, as it had done for decades.

The horde of women were led by a vanguard of older Vor women, who in turn were led by Lady Vorgallan. Beside her was Lady Alys Vorpatril and they seemed to be chatting gaily. Anny had so far managed to not actually meet Vorgallan face to face and now she breezed right past without a flicker of recognition. Good. Anny hadn't told her about the braid… Or the corsages…

The young ladies were straggling past now and they looked from side to side at the cadets and giggled and laughed as they talked among themselves. Quite a few looked right at her since she was standing in front of her company. A few of them took on puzzled expressions, but the majority didn't seem to realize her true gender. The visor of her tall shako nearly covered her eyes and made a good disguise. All the other female cadets had been deliberately placed in the rear ranks of their host companies.

As the first of the women reached the doors, the regimental band, which was already inside, began playing an old march by Vorsousa: 'The Fairest of the Fair'. Another tradition.

It took nearly ten minutes, but finally the last of them were herded through the doors of the hall, a strange, and not exactly pleasant, mixture of perfumes lingering behind until the early evening breeze could disperse it. Several more minutes passed while things were organized inside and then someone came to the doors and signaled Vorharris.

"Battalion! Shoulder—Arms! Sheath—Sabers!" Anny and all the rest put their swords back in their scabbards. "By platoon, right wheel—March!" The oversized doors of Emperor Ezar Hall were wide, but not wide enough for a full company front to pass through. So each company split into its two platoons, each swinging to the right like doors on their hinges. Anny spun about to oversee the wheel of the first platoon while Denis Fallon dashed around the end of the second platoon and took charge of that. As the wheels neared ninety degrees, Vorharris commanded: "Battalion! Forward—March!"

The right wing of the battalion, in a column of platoons, headed for the doors. But the left wing was marching in the opposite direction and Vorharris ordered it to countermarch and follow the right wing. As the leading platoon reached the top of the steps there was a crash of drums and a blare of brass as the band struck up the 'Cadets' March'.

"By platoon—Un-cover!" As the first troops passed through the doors, they doffed their shakos and tucked them in the crook of their right arms. It wasn't considered proper to wear hats indoors. Platoon by platoon they passed inside. C Company was the fifth in the column and as Anny marched through the doors she removed her shako and squinted in the bright light.

The hall had been lavishly decorated for the event. The walls were easily twenty meters tall and they were draped with old flags, banners, and colored fabrics. More streamers hung from the arched ceiling high overhead. Flowers and more flowers were everywhere. There was a raised stage at the far end and Anny could see the Commandant and his wife along with all the other Vor ladies there watching the incoming cadets. All the young women had been gathered along the left side of the hall in a mob.

When the leading platoon neared the end of the hall it swung left and countermarched smartly and headed back the way it had come, right past the young women—passing in review, as it were. All the other platoons followed. As she approached the stage Anny caught Vorharris' eye. She frowned and spoke to Lady Vorpatril and then to the Commandant, who smiled guiltily and shook his head. Lady Vorpatril was staring at her, too. The few times they'd met it seemed to Anny that she didn't fit into the neatly ordered world of Lady Vorpatril. Not that she'd ever been anything but courteous, but it was clear she didn't know what to make of her.

Anny paid them no further mind as she concentrated on the countermarch. It was done perfectly, of course, and now she was headed back the other way, only a few meters from the line of young women. Now there was no concealing who she was and hundreds of wide eyes and gaping mouths and pointing fingers followed her along the line. As she passed, the laughs and giggles seemed to rise to a higher pitch. Anny set her expression to neutral and stared straight ahead.

When the column reached the other end of the hall, it wheeled left and marched to the wall opposite where the girls were gathered and then wheeled yet again to march back toward the stage, but this time as tightly against the wall as they could manage. Finally, when the head of the column was nearing the stage again, Vorharris bellowed: "Left into line wheel—March!" All twenty platoons simultaneously swung back into the line-of-battle facing the ladies. Anny dressed her company and then took her spot just ahead of Jer Naddel.

"What a circus," whispered Jer.

"You aren't kidding!"

"Advance the Colors!" commanded Vorharris. Anny tensed and glanced down toward the left of her company, but the order wasn't for her. The entire Color Guard left her company and marched forward and then wheeled right and strode toward the stage. It halted just in front and presented arms. Commandant Sylvanus returned the salute and then the Color Sergeant stepped forward alone and went around to the set of steps on the right of the stage. He went up and placed the butt of the staff into a holder that was waiting and then returned to his spot. There was already a set of the Imperial Colors on another holder on the other side of the stage. The Color Guard then returned to its spot on the left of C Company. It had been smartly done.

The music stopped and an almost-silence filled the hall. The cadets were utterly silent, of course, but a low chatter continued to come from the ladies. "In place—Rest!' shouted Vorharris. The cadets relaxed a bit, but didn't move from their spots. The front rank troopers handed their shakos to the men in the rear ranks who placed them all on tables that lined the walls behind them for that very purpose.

Meanwhile, on the opposite side of the room, a batch of cadets from the junior class had been trying to get the women into some semblance of order without screaming at them, pushing them, or just picking them up and carrying them. Anny didn't envy the cadets and idly wondered how she'd managed to escape that duty last year.

Eventually, the women were herded into ten groups, each one opposite one of the companies. Theoretically, the numbers in each group exactly matched the number of cadets in the company across from them. Anny would consider it a small miracle if it actually turned out that way. She eyed the group opposite her. One of the women would be paired with her for the Grand March and the first dance. She didn't really care which one it was as long as she didn't scream in protest or faint in shock when she found out who she was paired with.

Now the Commandant stepped forward to a podium in the center of the stage. He made a mercifully brief speech welcoming everyone to the eighty-third Senior Class Fall Formal and then introduced Lady Vorgallan and stepped aside.

Lady Lewelynne came up to the podium. She looked to be in her mid sixties, but from Anny's position, halfway down the hall, she couldn't really tell for sure. But her voice sounded like that of an older woman and her phrasing slightly archaic to young ears. She droned on for perhaps fifteen minutes, waxing enthusiastically about the flower of Barrayaran womanhood and the flower of Barrayaran manhood coming together to create a garden for the future. In fact, she used so many botanical metaphors that eventually Jer growled: "Are we cadets or petunias?" The young ladies were growing quite restive by the end of it.

But it did, finally, draw to a conclusion and Vorgallan stepped back. The Commandant's adjutant came forward and said: "Ladies and Gentlemen! Take your places for the Grand March!" None of the cadets had to move, but there was a bit of shuffling among the ladies. During Vorgallen's speech there had been some reshuffling among the musicians, too. Most of the drums and some of the fifes and bugles had disappeared to be replaced by men in red-and-blue parade uniforms. These were members of the Emperor's Own Regiment, flown here from the Capital, who often provided the music at state functions. They carried woodwinds and stringed instruments so that when the music began to play it had a less military sound than earlier.

Anny had become a connoisseur of military marches during her time at the Academy, but she didn't recognize the piece being played now. But she knew what she had to do. On a signal from the adjutant all ten company commanders stepped forward and walked straight ahead. A little less certainly and a far less uniformly, ten of the young ladies moved forward as well. There was a thin line down the center of the hall on the wood floor and Anny stopped a pace short of it. Her 'partner' a slim brunette only a little shorter than her, approached from the opposite direction, her eyes getting bigger with each step. When she stopped, Anny bowed crisply from the waist. After a moment's hesitation, the girl curtsied with a rustle of silk petticoats. Anny then moved to the girl's left side, passed her hand through the crook of her elbow and snugged the girl's arm against her side, all the while turning them both to face the stage.

And they were off. After a few steps they wheeled to the right and walked, slowly, steps in time with the music, toward the gap between the head of her company and the tail of the next company over. As they walked, she passed Denis Fallon, coming the other way to meet his own partner. All her other troopers were lined up waiting their turn. After passing through the gap, they turned right again and walked down toward the other end of C Company. Anny glanced back and saw that a line of couples, about ten meters apart were following her. Slightly concealed from the others now, the girl stiffened and hissed: "Who... what are you?"

"Cadet-Captain Andreanne Payne, at your service, Miss."

"But… but… you're a girl!"

"Noticed that did you?"

"They said there would be boys here!"

"They're all around you, Miss. I'm sure you'll get to meet some later."

"Oh!" she huffed. "This is just… delightful!"

They reached the end of the company and then made another right and moved through the gap back into the center of the hall. Fallon and his partner, a short redhead, had done exactly the same thing, except they had turned left and passed behind the row of ladies and they were now coming directly toward them. They halted facing each other and she and Denis bowed while the ladies curtsied and then both pairs swung toward the stage, Anny taking the other girl's right arm with her left. The foursome then marched forward.

Fallon's partner was goggling at her just as the first girl had done, but then she spoke past Anny: "What a… handsome partner you have Silvie."

"Oh shut up, Hanna!" hissed back the other girl. "I am going to get Linda for this! And here I thought she was being so nice for letting me go first! She must have known!"

When they reached the spot where they had started, the foursome wheeled to the right and began the circuit again. Back around, they met another foursome—Jer was in it with a dazzling blonde as his partner—and they became a group of eight. Around again and they became sixteen. The same thing was happening with all ten companies: twos to fours, fours to eights and so on, all while the music played.

Finally, they were in an unwieldy group thirty-two people wide which met another group coming the other way. They awkwardly swung into a line of sixty-four. Awkwardly because of the undrilled women, of course. If it had just been cadets, they could have done it perfectly. In fact they had done it perfectly just the day before in a practice run.

But sixty-four was as far as it went. The hall wasn't wide enough for anything larger. When all the groups of sixty-four had been formed—more or less, not every company was exactly the same size—they all marched forward toward the stage. The music reached its crescendo and they halted. Six hundred and fifty cadets, six hundred and fifty young women, in twenty lines. It had been done pretty well, even to Anny's critical eye. When the music stopped, they all applauded. Anny's partner seemed especially happy to have her arm free of hers.

"Just one dance and you'll be free of me Miss… Silvie."

"You can call me Miss Vorsenger." She tilted up her nose and looked away.

"I beg your pardon. We hadn't been introduced."

"Just what are you supposed to be, anyway?"

"She is our company commander," said Denis Fallon. "And a damn fine one, too, Miss." He frowned at her and she flinched.

"I… I'm sorry," she gasped.

"Don't worry about it," said Anny. "And don't think that you've been singled out for some special humiliation. There're twenty-six other woman cadets here tonight."

"Really?" she looked around in amazement. "I didn't realize…"

"Silvie, dear, you really ought to watch the news vids once in a while," said Denis' partner, smirking. "The Academy has been co-ed for a while now."

Before Miss Vorsenger could think of a response, the adjutant announced the first dance. All the groups except the first one turned around and walked back down the hall, opening up about a dozen paces between each group. Then the cadets and the women in each group moved apart, forming two lines facing each other. What followed was a fairly standard line dance with the partners moving forward, changing places several times, and then the lead couple swirling down the line, spinning past each of the others until they were at the other end of the line and then forming an arch with their clasped hands that all the other couples passed through until the line was reformed with a new couple at the head and then it all began again.

When it was Anny's and Miss Vorsenger's turn she exchanged a spin with each of the other women all the way down the line. Many of them looked shocked, but at least none of them flinched away. It was actually kind of fun. By the end of it she was smiling. She bowed to her partner. "Thank you for the honor of the dance, Miss Vorsenger. I hope you have a pleasant evening."

"So how did you… how did you get here?"

"Lots and lots of hard work, Miss," said Jer Naddel, coming up. "More work than you can imagine."

The woman looked very thoughtful, but then she swirled away with a group of her friends who were laughing shrilly. Jer looked at Anny. "New recruit?" he smirked.

"Who knows? I suppose that at one point I was just as… just as…"

"Stupid?"

"Yeah," she laughed. "Where's your partner? She was very pretty."

"Her? Oh, as soon as she discovered I wasn't a Vor she dropped me like a live grenade. Anyway, I'd rather spend my time with a real woman." He grinned at her.

She blushed and wasn't sure how to respond. "Jer, I…"

"Anny, if you think you're gonna get away without giving me at least one dance, you've got another think coming! Cadet Captain."

"I'm not sure we should…"

"Why the hell not? Look, there's Alby with Abbie Vorburn. You can bet they're going to dance!" She looked where he pointed and it was true. Alby and Abbie were talking and laughing in an animated fashion. A small group of women in gowns were staring at them and looking peeved. The next dance was about to start. It was going to be a slow dance… for couples.

Jer suddenly seized her hands. "Anny, can I have this dance with you?" He was staring right into her eyes.

She smiled. Why the hell not?

[Scene Break]

A dozen dances later, they took a side door out of the hall. A lot of couples were already outside. There was a perimeter of sentries to prevent any of the women from straying too far away from their chaperones, but the sentries made no effort to stop two cadets walking by in the dark. Once out of sight, Jer took her hand and they strolled like that for a while. Despite the season, it was warm and pleasant that evening. Very pleasant.

"So what did Lady Vorgallan have to say to you?" asked Jer. The woman had finally cornered her between dances.

"Oh, she was upset about the braid and the corsages. And by having us grouped with the boys it threw her numbers off and with us dancing with the boys it threw them off even more and now there were some poor girls who didn't have partners."

"Tragic," snorted Jer.

"I don't want to talk about her anymore." She leaned against Jer and he put an arm around her. It felt very nice. They walked on in silence.

Finally they stopped under a big tree and Jer slowly and very gently kissed her. They hadn't done anything since that amazing kiss in the cottage last year, but now they kissed again. And again.

"Anny?"

"Hmm?"

"I think I love you."

"It's against regulations."

"I know. I don't care."

She leaned against him and sighed. She cared about Jer very deeply, but did she love him? He was the first cadet she had met at the Academy and he was the first to become her friend. There's no way she would have made it this far without him. She owed him more than she could say—but did she love him? Right at that moment there was a part of her that wanted to tear his uniform off and make love to him right there under that tree. She was pretty sure there was a part of him that wanted the same thing. But they weren't going to do that. Not this night, anyway, and they both knew it.

"I think I love you, too," she said, at last. "So what are we going to do?"

Now he sighed and pulled away slightly, holding her arms. "I think… I think that for now we keep our heads and do our duty. Graduation is less than eight months away. After that… After that we can see what happens."

A feeling of relief and even deeper affection passed through her. "I do love you, Jer." She pulled him a little closer and whispered: "Thank you."

He smiled. "Glad they invited you to the Formal?"

"Very."

They kissed again and then found a spot to sit and watch the stars.