Chương 245: Chapter 266: Survey

I press my fist against the point of my chin and concentrate hard, staring at the wardrobe. I need to be in the right frame of mind. At the beginning of this season, when we were setting my schedule and strategy, Lady Hanje Toor and I had not been certain exactly how long my trial was going to last and exactly when my succession status would be announced. So we had left some slack in my schedule, and a particular gown for me to wear.

"You're in rather a better mood than I expected," said Elica, who was pretending to focus on her own mirror and ignore me. But it's hard to pretend to ignore someone when you are commenting on their mood...

"I suppose I am," I said, considering my options. The original plan for this evening had been for me to attend a rather more low-key event to secure more goodwill from the city's labor unions and guilds, and avoid the larger and more newsworthy galas. The big event tonight is Duke Drailim Skyback's birthday party, and I had initially been planning to send a card in my place. But I basically have to show up to this one.

I need a big kickoff for Crown Princess Natalie, and I squandered last week because there was no major all-hands-on-deck soiree to attend, and also because I was tired. This week, no such luxury. Everyone on the circuit who's ranked a count or higher should definitely be in attendance. And it is doubly important for me to go, because Skyback is still with the Independent faction, along with Aumerje and Ebonder. All their dukes and duchesses and princes and princesses will be there.

So I come to this evening with three missions. In no particular order: chat with Drailim Skyback and pin down the specifics of a contract deal to clear roads and railroads across the Fissuring, because I am going to need explicit authority before I cut through the land of every one of his vassals. Second, dunk on Aumerje as publicly as possible and humiliate them for trying to pin me with a cheap trick only to propel me into a promotion.

And third: have a careful conversation with Septimus Ebonder about passing the Tumnassed Wall so I can gather the materials to trace Meadwhite to his new lair, and possibly cure Belisa Roadaway. Those are the big ones. I also need to circulate and make a presentation so that everyone can feel like they got a chance to share my limelight in the wake of my big win, I need to reaffirm allies and extend new influences, and squash whatever new efforts are being made to slander or embarrass me behind my back.

It's going to be a big busy night for me.

"Last year after the fundraiser you were in a real stinker of a mood," Elica pointed out.

"Last year, my brother managed to dodge the discomfort with his 'whisper booth' idea. And he made more money than me. And people were lining up because they hated me, this year was in good fun. And also, last year we did this immediately before the first night of fashion week."

"Oh right. Did the student council move it up this year?"

"I may have been completely insufferable about it last year," I admitted. And so with that, choices to be made with my dress. First of all: no black. I can't wear black with my usual white-and-red because black-and-red gives honor to Aumerje and I'm really intending to present the opposite impression. And, annoyingly, nothing that highlights magic for the sake of magic; same reason. For the Skyback angle, I added a pair of gloves. Chamois leather, with bead sapphires picked out in a simple geometric shape.

The Skyback house colors, brown and blue, represented in a delicate pair of gloves appropriate to the occasion but the color and fit were approximate enough to be a reference to leather work gloves, indicating my willingness to get a tough job done. For Aumerje, and a big middle finger to them, I pinned my hair up in a smoothly-sculpted french twist, pinned with a pair of sticks. Very clearly the broken remains of a magister's wand, the small utility staffs they carry day-to-day for non-combat use.

I hardly ever see the damn things because every time a magister comes near me they're spoiling for a fight and coming loaded for bear. But the symbolism remains- I'll break your wand and wear it as a trophy. And I added some embroidered detailing to the skirt, near the ruffled hem. There was some empty space there, so I conjured the thread that would form a band of sigils ringing my skirt. And in so doing, a circle around my body. I don't know many sigils, not really.

But there are sequences I've memorized thoroughly because they were the main decoration on my walls for three years. I stitched in a sorcery-binding circle to my skirt, trapping myself inside of a magic-canceling barrier. It did not do anything, I'm no scrivener and I don't have the knack or the training. I am not investing any mana and I'm not using the right materials. But anyone who knows their sigil-script will see this for the over-the-top taunting that it is.

'Here I am, trapped in your circle'. It's a metaphor. You put yourself in the jaws of the killing thing but without the power to kill you. I finished off with a long drapey shawl, cloth-of-gold with a quatrefoil design, I wore it off-shoulder, just a long loose-weaved scarf looped over my elbows and hanging behind me. I left the edges ragged and torn. Turning to examine myself in the mirror, I concluded that I liked it just fine.

"Speaking of last year," Elica pointed out, "you mentioned at the time that there would be some very bold statements this time around. Fashion Week isn't for a few more weeks, but can I assume that you're still intending to go very, very big?"

"I am, and I don't mind if you hint that around," I said.

"It would be ridiculous if I made such a big deal of becoming the ducal heir and did not do something extravagant at the next Fashion."

"By the way," Elica said, her tone going calm and cold.

"Even if you have been promoted, this changes nothing. I am keeping the larger bed."

"What?"

"I know it's larger and more comfortable, but the thin margin by which you formally outrank me is not enough to take that from me. Understood?"

"Elica, they're exactly the same size," I told her.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Technic-""Whatever helps you brood at night," she corrected herself.

"Better." Rinnie glanced my way while Elica's back was turned, and mouthed 'same size' with large exaggerated mouth movements. See, she understood. But waiting until someone's back is turned does not mean the same thing when they're facing a large vanity mirror. Elica gasped.

"Rinnie! Not you too! I'll not be vexed by my own staff! How dare you! Oh, fuck, does my right eye look bigger than the left?" The two of them went into a huddled conference to figure out her makeup trials while I walked over next door. There's another opinion I need to gather. Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

"Knock knock," I said while knocking on the door. It's a habit that I've carried over from my first life. I've never seen anyone in Hearstwhile do that thing.

"Not ready yet!" Vancy called out.

"I know," i called back. It had not been very long, I was running ahead of schedule.

"I need a second opinion." Larianne opened the door and let me in, and the two of them went back to their vanities. Larianne was working on her hair, hers is almost as long as mine and not nearly as cooperative. Vancy was applying her lipstick in narrow consecutive bands like a gradient oil painting, creating a very specific effect. She glanced at me with surprise, and then worry.

"You've not done your makeup! Natalie, this is a big event!"

"Don't worry, I'm not doing anything outlandish," I said.

"My makeup team is waiting in the green room. I just came to get some opinions on my outfit." Vancy looked it up and down.

"Hmm. Harigold gown, Skyback gloves. Middle finger to the magisters, not subtle. The bodice is trying to crease at your midriff, you've not got it laced properly. I don't think that red is really going to work for you, Skyback events tend to be slightly less well-lit than most, with a yellower tone." I adjusted the bodice with a nudge of mana.

"what about you, Larianne? Any comments?"

"No, I think she got it," said the dark-demeanored countess.

"If your makeup team is on standby."

"What about the shawl, is that too much?" I asked, looking straight at her. She gave it a look, raised an eyebrow, and shrugged.

"It's fine. I wouldn't wear it. Difference between a summer and winter complexion." Good. If Larianne doesn't call me on it, nobody but the very inner circle should call me on it. Perfect. We had a pretty clean transition to the party itself. We showed at the door, showed our invitations and our plus-ones. Elica brought Rinnie, because Yheta is still way out in the fucking boonies making sure his criminal network is ready to support my railroad, and vice versa.

Larianne has brought Vancy, who did not get an invitation because she's not affiliated with any houses at all, despite being a countess. And I brought Rabert, after a lot of internal debate. I really, really want to see Thumper cleaned up nice at a very important social event, full of glittering diamonds and luminaries of all fields.

But for this party I need someone who's going to be an asset for my machinations, and while I love Thumper's humor and her good nature and her surprisingly sharp perceptions and her shoulders I am not going to be well-served by pining around her with puppy-dog eyes. She's wonderful company, but this is a core event for high ranking members of major Houses. Sadly, that's not a good place to bring people who are wonderful company.

Kimothy, Kurumi, and even Enefiat are ruled out the same way, though Enefiat could hold his own I don't think he would be able to bring much help for me in this crowd. Tiviti would have a very real chance of saying the wrong thing and alienating someone or killing them, and if I want to bring someone to eliminate my foes I would call Quarl. The two of them have a lot of overlap, but there are differences. I would call her in for a target that is hard to find and track.

For him, targets that need to be untraceable after the fact. In both cases I feel I could count on them not to ask difficult questions. Really it came down to him and Rabert, but Quarl is needed elsewhere with an appointment. Obviously this means he's got a job to do that is going to make extra work for the coroner and the obituary writer. Rabert is not a poor substitute, but he only ever seems to be my choice after everyone else is eliminated.

We all got our polite sounds from the herald at the front door, and then steered over to the receiving room to wait for our entrances. We all bustled in, and the door shut behind us. Lots of familiar faces here, ducal birthday parties will pull not only the most hardcore inner-circle of the event society, but also the higher-echelon nobility. My specialty is the intersection of those two Venn circles. Which, occasionally, puts me wrong-footed at awkward times.

The receiving room was rather large all by itself, and the hosts have kept refreshments available so it's almost a little pre-party for those of us who will be waiting a while. Inebriated laughter bursts like a flock of startled quail, and matchmakers circle like buzzards. Zyco the cosmetician and his assistant Lia are at a back corner, having chosen a space least likely to get jostled. But to get to them, I need to pass the gauntlet of jostling as well.

Elica and Rinnie peel off of our group immediately, she's still Dominion faction and for form's sake she needs to not be a close friend of mine during these events. Larianne gets plucked away just a few feet in the door, she's got a lot of close family at this event and they need to catch up. Vancy and Rabert and I make our way through the room which is arranged for seating and waiting not for circulating and mingling, but is still full of circulating minglers that are screwing up the traffic pattern. Ugh.

We're going to spend the next six hours doing all the "oh I just need to go say hello to him/her/them" thing, in a big open space that is made for that. We're currently in a small space to warehouse us quietly while we wait for our entry to that area. So people who need to bustle around and say hi to every acquaintance they see are just a fuss. Especially when they swoop into my way, and I have no idea who they are. A short and rigidly-angled woman snapped into her path.

"Ah, the newly-minted crown princess! A moment of your-" A stranger. Don't know her. My eyes snapped down then up. Dress is four seasons out and not well-kept, saved after the gala it was made for and probably brought out for rare occasions. The fabric told me that it had been taken in twice, which means this is the third time the dress is worn. My smile is reflexive but meaningless.

"So sorry, I'm late for my makeup appointment, I'll be sure to see you in the party," I said, evading her with a sidestep and a tuck of my shoulder. Rabert tugged at my elbow, he was still in "escort" posture.

"Ahem, what Princess Harigold means to say," he said, and his words jolted me just as I was about to put some essence into my limbs. I was a second from just plowing ahead and dragging him along. I've got bad habits and bad associations when someone who has my elbow or my arm starts pulling at me. It awakens something very contrary and a little aggressive when someone does that, even someone who has never violated my trust like Yheta has.

For a second I was going to just use some extra strength to pull from his grip, but his tone was immediately conciliatory, and that 'means to say' line is used for covering up mistakes. So, trusting him, I paused and turned to the angular little woman.

"- is that she would be happy to discuss the first principles of your negotiation while her makeup artist starts working. Would you accompany us?" Rabert's quick thinking and practiced etiquette smoothed over the ruffled feathers from my rather unsubtle brush-off, and the woman joined us to discuss the terms of my Fissuring project.

As it turns out, the directing manager of the Anquarry survey corps is a toughened woman who is kept too busy for a lot of galas and considers herself too pragmatic to worry overmuch about how fashionable her dress is. She was efficient but not as friendly as she would have been if I had treated her well at the outset. I can't say it really hurt the negotiations, but I did have to chide myself for that. I wasn't the only one to chide, either.

When the Skyback negotiator ducked away to get some paper, Vancy swatted me on the arm.

"Natalie Harigold!" she scolded, squinting the way she does when she wants to scowl because she doesn't really know how to scowl properly.

"I saw you dismiss that woman! You just looked at her dress and immediately ignored her, like some kind of snob! I expect that from Elica-""We all do," Rabert chimed in.

"-but I did not think you were the type!" she said, letting me see how disappointed in me she is. Vancy vastly prefers Natalie The Populist to Natalie The Silver Spoon. I'm currently reclined way back in a chair with gilded armrests, with two well-paid experts applying my makeup for me ahead of a party held for a duke where I intend to eat rare delicacies, drink hard-to-get beverages, enthusiastically snub a major house of politics and business while cultivating two others.

I am wearing a shawl made of tiny gold threads. It's really hard to beat the snob allegations in this context, but I do have to try.

"It's not a class thing," I said in my defense.

"If someone's outfit is that far out of date, they do not consult their vendeuse, and people that do not consult a vendeuse generally don't know enough to sway a House or councilor at all." The obvious exception is men who aren't wearing dresses, but any of them that matter are either taking advice from women that do, or have made their own connections with the spymasters of Hearstcliff. Vancy made a mistrustful, unconvinced face.

"That honestly sounds exactly like classism," she said, with a frown. But Zyco and Lia were nodding knowledgeably with a couple of knowing smiles, and Rabert was carefully schooling his face not to give away what he knows.

So that's four of us in the know, and since none of us want to explain to Vancy that her entire world is run by a shadowy cabal of espionage mavens that run a series of inconspicuous dress shops and that because she's in the wrong family she's not even invited to know that this exists, we all bite our tongues and have to gently assure her that there really is a difference and that I'm not just a mean-spirited snob. And that was as much reprieve as I got before my brother showed up.