Soiree

[Colette Moreau]

"Nicole Candraed"

The Taravin's great hall was bejeweled with its grandest decor.  It was little changed from centuries past when a young Lady Corele floated in its waters, drenched in the golden droplets from magnificent chandelier crystals. Marble harvested from the Mountains of Mist dripped narrow white lines like waterfalls interrupting crimson wallpaper.  So long ago were those memories, though, she barely remembered what it felt to live here. Amid it once more, she didn’t flutter even a single sad eyelash to return; the home that drew upon her heartstrings was in Tar Valon.  All she currently shared with this place now was surname and distant blood.  She was aware there were some whispers. Usually dismissed, for how could the country-born, hazel-eyed Nicole Candraed possibly be related to the Taravins. Nobody would guess the truth: that it was Corele who was the ancestor and Lord Taravin the descendant.

A servant approached the trio of Ladies standing near the table that was to be theirs for the evening. The room was filling with the wealth of Caemlyn though so far only a smattering of middle-tiered nobles were gathered in their customary gossip groups, Nicole included. The three Ladies accepted goblets, the finest of Domani crystal, then leaned their heads together to comment on rivals. Which so far, at least, was expectedly judgmental, but Nicole had to participate, so she watched expectantly for the hour to approach when the more powerful would arrive. Given the word that House Darwyn was hosting Borderlander royalty, well, that explained why House Taravin hosted a ball. While the house of the Golden Falcons was a force in its own right, everyone remembered when a Taravin sat the throne as regent of Andor, and surrendered it to Trakand of its own free will. 

Even the lesser lords and ladies, even if they were not directly targeting the throne for themselves, they were content to sit back and watch Darwyn and Taravin attempt to carve out the greatest favor. Meaning a ball thrown by one of the Great Houses of Andor mandated the others - and their guests - would attend. 

Nicole sipped her wine at leisure and while they waited for the big players to grace their presence, she amended her companion's critique of their peers' fashion choices with some insights of her own. 

"Deep blues have been out of favor since the Queen's nameday feast." She tsk'ed as Desiree Arawn was introduced, her silk skirts were a peacock blue slashed with wintery cream.  The two Ladies leaned, eyes glinting to hear more, they had both been at the same feast, but only the Lady in Waiting had been close enough to the Queen's table to hear the compliment she gave to a Cairhienin noblewoman. 

"She complimented Lady Catalyan of House Hilyan, who was wearing ice blue. Cold and beautiful as a frosted Saldaean rose, she'd said. Frost is the only shade of blue to wear this winter."

Nicole was, of course, not wearing the shade. If she had, it would be seen as supporting her own selection rather than critiquing another's lack of it. Hers were wintergreen skirts lined with powdery pink with pink and yellow scrolls along her corset and sleeves. A pair of small pink stones dropped from her lobes, but her jewels were clouded and set in silver rather than fat gems surrounded by gold and diamonds of the wealthier ladies. House Candraed was after all a country line without even a single manor in the capital. She simply did not have the means for elaborate fineries. 

She tilted her glass and dipped her head toward Lady Desiree who would walk the rest of the night with the shadow of her poor choice of gown color tainting her every move. Lady Desiree walked on oblivious. Either she was so far unconnected from the currents (in fashion and in politics) to ignore the change in direction heralded by the Queen or she wearing the opposite of the Queen's favored trend on purpose as a symbol of political opposition in ways young noblewomen liked to project. Either way, House Arawn would be undermined the rest of the night.  They were one of the groups against the trade of troops to Shienar, claiming the Legion of the Dragon was the better organization for such services while Andor had their own borders to protect. Then there were these rumors of instability in Murandy. Well, in Corele's forward thinking eyes, the Blight was the more important venture.