Of course we’re coming back to the Chrysanthemum for the ball. Call it a victory lap, if you like. Call it proof that things have been repaired, and that better than ever (thanks in part to the Mystery Builder, Heroine of Vespergift).

The “ballroom” itself is a stained glass platform built around the chrysanthemum tree in the center of the building (itself very, very heavily magically warded by the Civils to avoid a repeat of what happened with Walking Elm). The repaired staircases lead to walkways jutting out over the ballroom, and private dining suites on platforms all about the tree. Underneath, the baths and the hot springs still boil and froth, just waiting for even more private dalliances.

The restaurants, the theaters, the massage parlors, these have all been closed for the evening. There’s only one event, and it’s the main event: winning Hazel Valentine Fletcher’s heart. (Aren’t you so excited? Just so, so excited??) Yaz’s girls are butlers and maids and coatchecks and hangers-on this evening, and that Nagi matron has got profit on her mind, profit in all sorts of different shapes and sizes.

[hr]
[b]Handmaidens![/b]

There are vinyards in Kel. They are the hardiest, most exclusive vinyards in all of Thellamie. Up there, in the inhospitable mountains, under the unfiltered light of the stars, the Civils grow grapes glutted with starlight. And these grapes grow, and grow, and grow, until they are so full of starlight that there is more light than juice when they are crushed. And they are crushed, because the Civils hike up their skirts and dance in the vats, and they make wine of this juice, and it is bottled and aged for centuries until it is the most potent thing in all the world. It causes ecstactic madness and whirling visions and comet dances. It is the sort of wine that is fought over in heist and counterheist.

Civelia has been under a [i]lot[/i] of stress lately. She was attacked; she expended much of her divine power to give this token to Hazel Fletcher; her church is under assault. Thellamie strains at the brink of open war between a goddess and a Khatun. So she took a bottle, and she poured herself half a glass. After all, she is a spirit of restraint. Of decorum. Of civilization itself.

Three bottles in she started messaging Sayanastia and it got graphic [i]fast.[/i]

She erased the entire conversation the next morning, but what has been seen on the shared Handmaiden Tablet cannot be unseen. Not unless you get Cair to brew a potion of forgetfulness, extra strong. You might really want to forget the mental image of what she was saying she’d do to Sayanastia’s tail.

It’s rumored she’s making an appearance at the ball! Rumored because she hasn’t responded to any means of contact from Team Handmaiden since. Naturally, Heron will be required to make an appearance on her arm.

Simple enough, right?

[hr]
[b]Mystery Builder, Heroine of Vespergift![/b]

Two weeks ago, Mayzie Sighs was working at a cafe and trying to maintain a low profile. She didn’t deserve any acclaim for donating money she hardly earned to a good cause, after all. But then you two came back, and she set you to work.

You were the only member of the Order helping. The Order has called back its members; the Mansion is being fortified. You, and you alone, put your shoulder to the work; you, and you alone, are entrusted with keeping the spark of the Aurora burning while Morning, Noon and Evening are defended by your sisters. I daresay it’s one of the longest fortnights you’ve ever had in your life.

Even you couldn’t do it alone. But the Mystery Builder became a symbol of sorts. A symbol of rebuilding, of reconstruction, of hope that one day more than the city would be reclaimed from the Witchwood. Recruitment applications for the Gardeners have shot through the proverbial tower roof. And wherever you’ve gone, Heroine of Vespergift, fans have followed, with their tablets and their fanart and their hopes.

Their [i]hopes,[/i] Eclair.

So of course Mayzie was dragged into your wake: your manager, your squire, your interface with the Vespergift reconstruction project. Her face has been right next to yours on all the graffiti, all the posters, and in everyone’s hearts.

So tonight, Mayzie Sighs is going to be the sub-belle of the ball. Not as big a deal as this Hazel boy, but it is your sworn duty to ensure that she enjoys an evening of being in an auxilary spotlight, that she feels it burns as brightly as any star-sodden rack of antlers.

Tell me about her dress.

[hr]
[b]Yuki![/b]

Purnima shows up in a golden palanquin to take the two of you to the Chrysanthemum. Her hair is in the “Princess Leia” buns, and did you have any hand in that? Her dress is gold, gold, tassels of it, chains of it, gold on gold on gold. Her eyeshadow is gold flecked with powdered starlight, for that intoxicating kick when one meets her eyes. Her scales shine with gold-flake oil. She is a mace to the face, aesthetically, and she intends to pummel Hazel into submission with every trick she’s picked up from you.

Your theme, the one she dictated for you, is “silver.” In the sky, a silver ribbon winds up to the moon. What does silver mean on Yukisearth? What does silver mean to you? And did you obey her command, or are you, as they say, being a brat about it?

You’ve got time to answer, borne in this palanquin, swallowed up by her possessive golden coils. She squeezes whenever you shift, as if to lay claim to you all over again.

[hr]
[b]Hazel![/b]

Olesya pushes you up against the mirror and kisses you on the mouth.

While you’re still half-dressed, too! My darlings were in the middle of getting you dressed – a task they simply couldn’t [i]possibly[/i] leave to anyone else, you have to be fitted and buttoned and made up correctly for the ball – and then Olesya was inside your dressing room, taking up the room, all of it, shoving Keli and Seli aside to grab you and, well, see above.

This isn’t supposed to happen! Miss Yaz promised you the best of security! And, really, I’m somewhat disappointed in her if she let a brawny Serigalamu huntress get past her best. She should have had better traps in place, at the very least.

She is mashing her mouth against yours. But there’s no passion in it. She’s just doing it harder and harder like it’s supposed to do something. Like she hasn’t been told that she’s allowed to stop. Don’t worry, my girls will have her off you in a minute…

But that’s still a minute where she’s doing a terrible job of making out with you in increasing awkward desperation. And that’s still a minute where it’s incredibly clear that she could pick you up effortlessly.

It’s not like she did this at all while you were enjoying her hospitality! She was quiet, practically your shadow, more than capable of fending off anyone who might get Bright Ideas about challenging her for possession of the you. She showed you how to shoot a training bow, and tried to give you tips on how to shape your heartblade into a bow – you go ahead and tell me if that succeeded. She fed you stew and steak and the kind of little goblin birds you eat in one mouthful. She did not push you up against anything and kiss you like she was kissing a mannequin.

So what gives???