Author's Note: I must admit that it has been two or three years since I've read the POTS or Trickster books, so I am a tad fuzzy on dates and details. For the question of ages, I gave the Scanran War a few years and then left our gang patrolling the border for a few months. I'm giving Kel to be around 21/22, and thus, Neal is 26/27. Iden is meant to be 19/20, so he had about one year as a knight right at the end of the war and doing border duty. I would also think that fighting a war helps to distance you a little from the innocents of the world, like our Lady Laurel here ;)

Presentation Is Everything

A coming-out ball.

The coming-out ball.

Her coming-out ball and that of her convent year-mates and new Yamani friends. This was the night that would change them from girls to real ladies, now fully eligible for marriage. One night announced to the world that they were ready for such a task. It was the night that all the convent girls yearned for and feared all at once, whether they were together in chattering groups at mealtime or alone at night with the curtains drawn and no one there to comfort the girl as she shuddered at the thought.

It was here for Laurel of Fury's Valley, and she was terrified.

But who could even tell? Hidden under her long silvery-blue formal gown widened by a hoop in the old style that her mother had sent her, the girl's knees quivered. Maybe if one took the time, one could see her chest rising up and down a bit too quickly over the top of the fitted and embroidered bodice; the large aquamarine stone surrounded by small pearls and hung from a think chain of white gold almost seemed to be bouncing from its place in the shadow between her breasts. But in contrast, her hands remained steady and her face was the picture of calm and composure.

There was an animated chatter in the antechamber where the girls waited. Laurel was positioned halfway between the three kimono-clad Yamanis, speaking rather more rapidly than usual but in normal tones, and a knot of her convent friends—Roxanna, Alisonne, and Amelie—who were dressed in their finest as well. Roxanna's family was the only one who could compare in wealth to Fury's Valley, and she too had a gemstone necklace—an iridescent green peridot with fine gold work to match her light green jewel-toned dress. The quiet beauty of the dark featured Amelie was showcased more modestly in a simpler rich lavender shade. The tall, thin Alisonne's soft pink rose gown had delicate floral embroidery that snaked flatteringly across the bodice; she may have even done it herself since that was her talent. The blue-eyed girl had nothing to say to any one out of concern or comfort, so she kept her mouth shut and waited in silence. She could not turn back now, so she resolved to square her shoulders and meet the challenge head on.

Laurel's fidgeting hands ran over her perfectly arranged skirts, the necklace flawlessly laid on her chest, her pinned up hair with its pearl-and-gold comb tucked in the back, the line of kohl that brought out her crystal eyes and the hint of face paint that brought a rosier glow to her pale cheeks. There was nothing more to do in preparation. She took as deep of breaths as she could manage in her tightly corseted belly. The fluttering there reminded her that she had not eaten all day due to her nerves. She had fallen prey to nervousness in general and also in her ability to fit into the gown itself; her mother seemed to have run a bit tight in her daughter's measurements.

One of the tall doors out of the antechamber (but not the one leading out to the ballroom) opened and the Master of Etiquette appeared. He was a balding, middle-aged man with a well-oiled moustache, but his clothes and manners were admittedly impeccable, as they should be. A hush went over the room, and all eyes were on him as he bowed to the girls. A sea of curtseys answered.

"Ladies," the Master began, "I do hope everyone remembers the order of events: first, entry down the grand staircase with your escorts, announced one-by-one by the herald; you will follow the red carpet to curtsey before Their Majesties. Your escorts will leave you at the side of the stage for the spectacle. The Yamani ladies shall perform first, followed by your 'surprise,' and then the Queen's favorite song must be sung. Everyone understand, yes?"

A few heads in the crowd nodded, and he took that for general agreement. "Very good!" The Master of Etiquette turned to call out into the hallway behind him. "Gentlemen, enter!" he said, his voice slightly more harried than when he had spoken to the girls.

As he stepped out of the doorway, a flood of young men entered. Some looked just as nervous as Laurel felt, but great deal seemed to have grins on their faces; those ones had probably done this before. And on the arm of their pretty ladies, what had they to lose? If Laurel tripped and fell flat on her face in front of Their Majesties or forgot the words to her song, the entire court would have her pegged as a clumsy fool! Her escort would just be pitied for having the unfortunate luck to have been standing next to her.

The Master arranged the ladies and gentlemen in two lines; Laurel was the third in hers with the large, ornately carved wooden doors to the grand ballroom only feet away from her. She stole a sidelong glance at her assigned escort and noted that he was one of the confident-looking ones. The blue-eyed girl did not know if that was a good or bad thing. Kaida was in line in front of her and she risked a look over her shoulder. "Luck to you, Hitomi," she whispered blank-faced but with a twinkle of excitement in her eye.

Laurel smiled and reached out to press the girl's hand. "Luck," she wished her back. With that word and a loud clap from the Master, the heavy doors were pushed open and all eyes snapped forward. The girl could see the large, delicately wrought chandeliers with their hundred of candles suspended over the large room. A sea of colors below was parted by the red and gold carpet that led directly to the thrones on the far end of the room. The stage was off to the right, its heavy curtains still drawn shut. The herald bellowed the first names, and the couple joined hands and stepped down the stairwell.

Kaida and her escort took a large step forward, and the lines followed suit. Laurel's head twisted to the side when the boy beside her gently took her hand. "Squire Alan, at your service," he said in a low voice, touching his lips to her fingers. He took the next step forward as the Yamani was announced away, and the blue-eyed girl almost jumped to catch up.

She opened her mouth to say something, but the words came from another source. "Lady Laurel of Fury's Valley, escorted by Squire Alan of Pirate's Swoop," the herald bellowed. The newly acquainted pair moved forward, steps in sync as the Etiquette Master had ordered. The squire held her hand steadily aloft as they walked almost three feet apart from each other. Laurel had to concentrate on each stair to keep from tripping on her skirts. Once on the main floor, she forced a small smile and tried to walk confidently under the gazes of the Tortallan court. She was dimly aware of the polite applause and the tinkle of music from the quartet in the corner that accompanied each girl's descent.

Halfway down the length of the room, the next girl's name was called, and most eyes went to her. Laurel took the opportunity to inhale deeply through her nose and exhale through her mouth. Only a few paces separated her from the royals of Tortall. Her blue eyes darted upwards to take in the splendor before her. On a raised dais, King Jonathan and Queen Thayet sat in matching thrones, and on either side of them, Prince Roald and Princess Shinkokami occupied smaller versions. The ladies were both dressed in Tortallan style gowns greatly richer than the casual clothes Laurel had met them in only days before at shusuken practice. Her gaze lowered in respect as she edged closer and closer.

When the pair reached the appropriate spot, they halted. Laurel, head bowed, closed her eyes and focused on curtseying smoothly, sinking her weight evenly down to the ground while elegantly pulling her skirt out to one side. A squeeze from Squire Alan's hand reminded her to stand up straight again. Together they moved off to the right towards the stage. As they passed beneath her, the blue-eyed girl caught the gaze of the Queen and received a friendly smile of recognition. She had not made a fool of herself yet.

The next moment Laurel was conscious of was when the stage curtains opened, and she saw the crowd staring up expectantly at her and the other convent girls. The three Yamani ladies had already done a complicated fan dance with solo and ensemble parts set to an almost sad-sounding native song. Now it was the others' turn to win the audience.

The convent girls had decided to do a morality play. Normally at coming-out balls the new ladies simply did medleys of songs and dances, but under the leadership of Lady Lindley and her group of friends, this more imaginative production was formulated and put into practice.

Laurel, although still clad in her ball gown, played a gentlemen who represented greed, claiming all the ladies for himself alone while the other 'gentlemen' onstage were forced to dance with each other. Other girls took on the roles of other vices to illustrate lessons of laziness, obsession with work, and coquettishness (a crowd favorite), among others. Serious moments were interspersed with comedic relief, so the audience remained enraptured throughout the courtly drama and wit.

At the end of the play, the girls lined up along the front of the stage to take their bows to the wild cheers of the assembled court. Hardly allowing the noise to die out, a flushed and nervously grinning Laurel stepped forward on one side of the stage and began singing, her small, clear voice breaking through the applause until it seemed all of Tortall fell silent to listen. This was Queen Thayet's favorite song about the great women of the past: the beauties, the warriors, and the mages; it was traditional that the convent girls sang it to her at this event. At each chorus, the line of ladies chimed in together, but it was Laurel who sweetly sang out the verses that described the great accomplishments of these notable women of history and legend.

Usually the blue-eyed girl was so quiet that no one had reason to bother to feel jealous of her. The girl had been one of the best in singing class at the convent, but she had never had the ambition for solo parts. She had gotten this part only as a compromise choice between Roxanna and one of the other convent girls who had traded harsh words over it. During and after her performance, however, more than one lady onstage felt a twinge of jealousy for her moment to shine.

Laurel, however, could not see the people there or feel the girls at her back. While singing of these great women she saw them flash across her mind's eye, their deeds acted out again to give her the authority to speak of them. The last refrain snuck up on her as the court girls joined in:

"Dear Prince, ask not each week
Where they are, nor each year,
Because this refrain will follow you:
Where are the snows of yesteryear?"

The blue-eyed girl's trance was broken when Amelie grasped her hand to make the final bow. Only then did she hear the cheers again.

When the ladies descended from the stage door, a crowd of jostling gentlemen awaited them, fighting to speak to the lady of their choice. After the last stair, Laurel looked up into the eyes of Squire Alan. He offered a hand to escort her out of the fray, and she took it without hesitation.

The pairs of young men and ladies assembled into two lines of dancers and took up the familiar steps as the music dictated them. At one point each couple joined hands, and the squire looked down at Laurel to whisper "You were a goddess up there tonight."

"That is blasphemy, Squire Alan," the girl replied calmly. They had to split apart to join hands with other partners. When they came together again, she changed the subject, "You seem too old to be a mere squire…"

As soon as the song had ended, the Sir Merric that she had met at Yuki's party was there to take the squire's place. He too expressed a great appreciation for her performing skill but in more realistic terms. After that dance, she was led over to where the rest of Lady Yuki's group stood—the entire party from a few nights ago plus a few more that the girl did not know. Mitsuko stood between Yuki and Sir Iden who had been the Yamani's escort. Laurel made a moment's eye contact with him and looked away embarrassed; she still felt silly for running out of the library like she had. The girl could feel that the young knight's gaze lingered on her a bit longer than necessary.

There were complimentary remarks made on her performance and voice from those she knew, and she tried to take them gracefully. Sir Owen introduced his sweet fiancée Margarry, and she took Laurel's hands in hers and invited the blue-eyed girl to visit her any time. "Owen told me that he had met a nice girl from the convent, and I could hardly believe him. I remember most of the others as being vicious little things. But when I saw you up there so serene but strong, I knew he had told the truth." Behind these courtly words, the blue-eyed girl could detect a sharp humor, and she looked forward to stopping by for a chat.

The handsome Sergeant Dom then showed up at her side and bowed low. "May I have this dance, milady?" His head popped back up and he winked roguishly.

Laurel held out her hand coyly with a smile of her own and let him lead her back to the dance floor. She had already made up her mind not to refuse a dance the entire evening. This song was slower and meant for couples to dance alone. There was a moment of time for the pair to ready themselves before the actual dance began; the sergeant pulled her slightly closer than called for, and she looked up in unfeigned surprise. His eyes were more vividly blue than she had remembered from the party, though she had barely spoken to him that night. Something about his face vaguely reminded her of Sir Neal.

Those thoughts trailed off as the dance began. Their bodies moved together effortlessly—Laurel had a good feel for rhythm and the exactness of the movements, and Dom was an excellent partner who knew how to show off his lady. He added a few twirls for her to perform, and every time she spun back into his arms, she seemed to get a little closer to his body. Feeling very aware of this, Laurel scanned his handsome tanned face. She saw that his lips wore the twinge of a hidden smile and a curl from his dark hair rested out-of-place on his forehead. The girl could only match his gaze for a split second before she had to look down again, staring at his strong shoulder clad in a rich blue and silver tunic. "Are you teasing me, sir?" she asked.

"Look at me, Lady Laurel," he said softly, not missing a step. The girl obeyed slowly and held herself unyieldingly against the blueness. Dom continued, eDoDom"Now you're teasing me, looking up through those long eyelashes of yours."

Almost defiantly, Laurel tilted her chin further upwards to meet his gaze head on. "Ah, there—I can see them now. Aquamarine eyes like your perfect jewel there." His eyes dropped to the stone nestled at the shadow of her breasts.

"Where do you keep the sapphire to match yours?" she returned pertly with one eyebrow raised. She never did like compliments on the things she had no control over, like the color of her eyes.

The man grinned. "There's the confidence you had on that stage tonight. I was wondering if your shyness was the true act."

The girl returned sharply, "Nothing I do is an act."

"Well, whatever it is that you did on that stage, you are a brilliantly shining star. I couldn't see anyone else. You will certainly be the talk of the court after this evening—talented and stunningly beautiful."

The end of the dance came too soon for Laurel to argue; she had to curtsey at the end and then applaud the musicians. Her crystal eyes were locked with Dom's sparkling ones, almost in a dare. When the first notes of the next song sang out, they wordlessly positioned themselves in the two forming lines, ladies on one side facing the gentlemen on the other.

They did not have the opportunity to talk during the course of these quicker and more complicated steps, so at the end of the dance, Dom escorted her away. They passed the shrewd Roxanna who was standing at the edge of the dance floor with Alisonne and a few young men, and she shot a fierce hazel glare at Laurel. The girl tried to shake it off as the sergeant steered her around. They seemed to be heading toward the balcony doors that were open to let fresh air into the festive heat of the great chamber. The perceptive blue-eyed girl saw the trick in this and instead pulled him back to their crowd of friends.

Arriving there with a dazed Dom still connected to her arm, Laurel found that Princess Shinko and Prince Roald had joined the group, and they too gave her a warm reception. "The Queen very much enjoyed your song, Lady Laurel," Shinko said. "She wonders if you would perform again at another event this season."

Releasing her recent dance partner and inclining her head in a sign of acquiescence, the blue-eyed girl responded with, "Tell Her Majesty that I am honored by her compliments and her invitation. I could only say yes to such an offer."

Neal, also witnessing the exchange, added with an air of superiority, "You only have to be there when she rocks one of my darling little girls to sleep; I got a private performance only yesterday…"

By the end of the ball, Laurel's head swam with too many names and titles, perfumes and colors, food and wine. She felt she had indulged a bit too much in both the intoxication of alcohol and dancing. And she had spent a good portion of the night avoiding Dom who seemed a little too eager to rile her up. Luckily, she had no shortage of nobles to meet and to dance with and to introduce her to more people. The girl was more than ready to call it a night and climb into her soft, waiting bed.

Dom watched as that oddly quiet knight Iden offered to walk Mitsuko and Laurel back to their room and half-heartedly wished he could have that clever singing girl leaving with him. He had only begun to tease a fiery spirit out of her when the rest of the court had stolen her away. Gods, that blue-eyed siren must have danced with every eligible young man at the ball! He saw the two ladies took the younger man's arms, both still remarkably animated after the long night of festivities.

"They get younger every year," the blue-eyed man sighed tiredly. Maybe in all his time away fighting King Maggur, he had lost his touch. He sipped at his wine and watched the three leave over the rim of his goblet.

A hand clapping on his shoulder made him sputter a bit. He glanced to the side to find his green-eyed cousin standing there with a wry grin on his face. Neal shook his head in mock-seriousness, drawling, "No, my dear Domitan, they stay the same age. You just get older."

The idea and lyrics of the poem come from the "Ballad of ladies of former times (Ballade des dames du temps jadis)" by François Villon:

Prince, n'enquerrez de semaine
Où elles sont, ni de cet an,
Qu'à ce refrain ne vous ramène :
Mais où sont les neiges d'antan ?