Chương 310: Opening moves

This morning I went to the finished final assembly of our completed locomotive, and I conjured a scale version of it so that I could bring an exact replica. It's a neat trick, scanning something with affinities and conjuring a duplicate from that same scan, but a bit more challenging to do so at a 20: 1 ratio. Then I carried that model to the assembly house at Byeview, and gathered all the stockpiled steel, leather, fabric, wood, tin, magnesium, et cetera. I started assembling parts.

I paused several times so the hired scriveners could dart in and put a specific mark in a specific place, then cover it with resin to lock it in. Then assembly continued, building a full-scale version from the model. It took hours to assemble our second locomotive engine, but by noon the new engineers were overseeing the boiler and the controls, turning their page-learned practice into practical experience.

Growing pains, learning experiences: there's never been a railroad engineer in this world, they're figuring a lot out from scratch. We skipped a lot of developmental steps. After that to my hair appointment, and all the tension that comes from that. I'm vain about my hair, and I am unapologetic about that vanity. Also, I thoroughly examine every pair of scissors that comes near me. But unless I want it to drag on the ground by graduation, I need to weather the necessity of a trim.

And also, some degree of cutting is always necessary with shaping. and we're going to need shaping today. They wanted to frame my face in a new way, putting different emphasis on my feature and expressions. Entirely new draping, entirely new balance. I drew the line at bangs, I'm not a bangs kinda gal. They made sure to apply the tiara first, and designed the hairstyle around it. It's too easy to get that in the wrong order. Zyco and Lia had continued that work, and now I look cute.

I haven't looked 'cute' since I killed my first man. Even at twelve, I was more 'striking' than 'approachable'. But they've done it, those two mad geniuses. And so that's why almost nobody recognized me when I arrived at the venue for Fashion Week. I have been in the habit of not opening the portal right next to the entrance, since it is very rude to everyone else, and also it occurred to me that it would make me too easy to ambush. So I pick a spot a randomly-chosen block away, and emerge there.

I set aside my blackhart mask, and walked along at an unhurried pace. Despite the makeup man's resentful moaning, he had finished in plenty of time and I was running early. Normally I only arrive early for parties I am throwing, but this felt like a good exception. I walked through one pool of sigil-borne lamplight after another, and approached the Hall of Arts. There was a crowd in front of it, not densely-packed but seething with activity. Lots of people with so much to do.

Like a calm lighthouse overlooking storm-tossed seas, Tiviti watched all this buzzing about with a detached air. She was easy to find in the dim lights, standing a head taller than anyone else, with glowing pink eyes and a matching magenta gown. She had a furry stole over her shoulders, from something called a 'buzz tiger' that she had killed with her bare hands. The skirt, stole and clutch camouflaged an impressive degree of mana-infused concealed weapons.

She stood next to Rabert Frantlin, and they were chatting amiably enough. Probably about something bloodthirsty, knowing those two. Enefiat Trazom stood apart and watched, with Kurumi Lautan as his "date". There was no chemistry at all there, but he had an invitation and she wanted to be present. I spotted them by triangulating from Tiviti and Rabert.

Quarl had his own way into the event, Belisa could not be stopped from going anywhere at all, so there's only one member of the coterie that needs my help getting in past the invitation-checking heralds: Kimothy. And I can't find him. Unlike the others he's not terribly distinctive by appearance. He does not glow or hold that natural commanding presence. He does not have a signature hairstyle that sets him apart from others, or wear bright colors.

Also, I hardly ever see him dressed up at all, so I might have a harder time recognizing him. I'm going about this the wrong way. Find the guy that looks awkward like he doesn't even want to be here. Right. There he is. I sauntered up, and took his arm. Kimothy jumped in startlement.

"Gah!" The reason he looked incredibly out of place was because he was feeling incredibly out of place. Poor guy was a ball of nerves. He peered at me closely, surprised.

"Natalie?"

"Yes, it's me," I said.

"Try to find your calm. Calm. Capybara," I reminded him. I took a step and he came with me, not even paying attention. He was so distracted by his inner turmoil he was not aware that we were approaching the door of the venue.

"This is my capybara!" he hissed.

"I'm all nerves. Natalie! There are dukes here! A hundred counts! The royals are going to be here!" Holding his arm, I could feel that he was actually shaking. Behind us, Rabert and Tiviti fell in as if it were the most natural thing. Trazom and Kurumi ambled, unhurried, but were positioned to take position in front of us. I don't mind us all being associated together. And also, if they're nearby I can protect them better from poisons, assassins, bad news, spies, saboteurs, and cold weather.

Tiviti stopped clutching her stole quite so close.

"Kimothy," I said with some real amusement in my voice, "you interact with high-end nobility all the time. And most of them are far more normal and approachable than I am. You're already accustomed to the worst of this. You're going to be fine." Blatant lies. But since I do intend to keep him at a decent remove from the Federalist and Independent factions, it should be fine. I'm trying to ease him in, give him a gentler introduction than what I had.

If he really is going to be a long-term love interest, he's going to need to know how to at least get by in this environment. I can't see him ever thriving, but 'managing' is not too far a reach. And if he can't manage here, then I'd rather know early. I can plan around it. We came to a stop, standing in line, waiting for the doormen to see to us. He was settling his breathing though, and his color was improving.

"You're right, sorry, I've only been to a few of these things and never one as important as this. I'll be fine. Should we head inside? And - well, you look really different." I don't actually. I'm still very recognizably me. There are damn few women in this place that have such pale white skin, such pale white hair, and a dress of vivid red-and-white. I've been very consistent about wearing my House colors at galas, and even at school I tend towards them. I've got a signature look.

Almost anyone that's wearing red-and-white is going to be a Harigold, and most of them have the distinctive Harigold coloration: bright red, deeply tanned. These days it almost doesn't hurt anymore. I lost those colors on the night of my twelfth birthday, part of the sacrifice to rescue my family. After four and a half years, I'm finally coming to terms with it. This is me now, and I'm never going to get the old me back. We moved up closer to the door, the line shuffled at a snail's pace.

There are a few people wearing our House colors who are not born as Harigolds, married into the family, or who took after a different parent and missed the Harigold hues. The ones that have very white hair have taken to dying it so as not to step on my signature. I've stamped this look so thoroughly that people treat my palette like it's mine. You don't wear the same dress as someone else, you don't get copies of someone else's jewelry, and you don't copy Natalie's colors.

But to Kimothy's point: "It's just some makeup," I said, patting his wrist.

"And a hairstyle. I'm still me."

"Your cards?" said a herald to the people ahead of us. We could overhear the conversation.

"Enefiat Trazom. I have a standing white-list invitation to the Hall of Arts from the director. The 'revered' list, I believe."

"Ah yes, I have it here. Very good. Enefiat Trazom and guest. Have a wonderful evening and enjoy the show." Kimothy was trying to distract himself as we got to the threshold.

"Sure, but you don't look like yourself, even if you-" he floundered. He's a great sorcerer but he's not the best communicator I know.

"You knew I was doing this," I reminded him. We had worked it all out over popcorn, after all. The plan, the sabotage. Just the tiniest touch in just the right place. And, also, the image control, the optics. and the spin. He was right there when Quarl had said that I would need some help if I'm going to sell my role as a hapless victim, and Tiviti had suggested protective camouflage.

I wordlessly handed my card to the heralds and they waved me in with only murmured pleasantries so as not to interrupt our conversation.

"Yes, I knew, but seeing is believing," he smiled weakly.

"You look soft." Together we stepped into the building. Normally it is kept twilight dim, a somber choice for an evening event. And not incidentally it provides nooks and shadows for nefariousness and secrets. This time, at Nathan's suggestion and manipulation, the director had chosen to bring on all the lights, with as many reflective surfaces as possible. The rugs were pulled away and the tile polished, the usual draperies were removed to reveal the marble walls.

It was all flush and summery, to the discomfort of many who had come dressed for different lighting. I had taken some time with a mirror before I headed out tonight, practicing some expressions to see how they play out. Thanks to Zyco's artistry, I look cute. Almost doll-like. The haircut makes me look a little rounder in the face, which is not a look I usually go for.

The dress bares my shoulders, arms and half of my back, but the flare of the skirt makes me look thinner, and so rather than showing off my strength I just look bare and vulnerable. With all the direct lighting, the muscle definition was invisible, no shadows to highlight all that hard work I'd put into camogie. Zyco had walked a fine line; if I looked any more delicate I'd look sickly. It's hard work, being a damsel.

The foyer was not so filled that it was difficult to move about, so I was glad we had arrived early. This time I've got no wish to get pinned by passersby or to pull the room around me and make an exceptionally grand entrance. It really was quite bright, and people's outfits were not right for it. Everyone except for our cadre, I was smugly satisfied to see. Kurumi's powder-blue looked charming, and Trazom's spangled waistcoat would have looked garish in less lighting.

They swept to the left side with no apparent goal in mind. I tapped Kimothy's arm.

"You're up," I said. He nodded and slipped away, leaving me alone to make my way through the foyer to the main hall. It's a little eerie how fast he blended in, he does not have the bearing of someone that belongs at these events, so he looked like a trainee busboy. Because he so obviously didn't fit in, he became part of the 'invisible class'. In seconds someone had handed him an empty glass, and twenty feet later he had a tray to put it on. He looked baffled that it was working, but it was working.

And I could not quite pick out the moment he disappeared. It wasn't like he was just -pop! - gone, but I became aware that he wasn't there and he had not been for a few seconds. He faded but you don't notice the fade until it's done. That was the point that Belisa matched pace with him and took over. So I'm left on my own to walk through the foyer and meet up with my House. The foyer was mostly held by Aumerje people, gathered in cliques and clusters of casual conversation.

The women wore red with black highlights, the men wore black with red highlights, their house colors. Most of the sinister houses have black among their colors, since signaling the game's audience was a priority for the game devs. Ebonder was black and white, Grennick is black and green, Nhullit is black and gray, In a dark room they all blend together and it's a very harmonious look, but today it just looked different. It was particularly glittery, for one thing.

The season's fashion for accessories and trimmings is still in effect, but also a lot of gleaming medals, gold braid, and polished buttons. Nathan has been influencing the invitations slightly, and stacked the crowd with a lot of military officers, especially highly-ranked ones. Just another way he's using his position with the fashion show to benefit him. I collected my share of glares as I paced along, serene and untroubled.

My hair was draped over my shoulder and fell in curls and coils in a breathy tumble of loose careless-looking waves. It took hours to get that effect. The upper crust of Aumerje was particularly crusty today, still seething from the scolding that the magisters had taken several weeks ago, and still smarting from the money they had lost backing that losing move. None of it affected me, they could stay salty. I glided along, soaking up their resentment, and put them behind me.

A viscount was waiting just inside the door wearing Harigold livery and he straightened as I cleared the door out of the foyer. He was apparently sent to fetch me out; that was a page's job but this venue is going to be crowded just with the people who are trying to prove they're important enough to be at the real party, we don't have the resources for anything so extraneous as a page to run errands.

"My lady," he said with a bow, and led the way towards the family's gathering. I nodded, waved and shared a word or two with various friends and acquaintances as we passed. I am still family, and I am still friendly. At the center of our gathering was Petunia, and she looked relieved and surprised in equal measure. She dropped her hands palm-flat on the cocktail table next to her.

"It is almost hard to recognize you," she said. The funny thing is that I'm not using any of my Disguise skill. I could make myself a lot harder to recognize if I wanted.

"My date said the same thing," I told her.

"Huh. Where is Bruce?"

"Don't worry about that," Petty said, looking me up and down.

"Sorry, I can't get over this look. I do hope it's only for the one night."

"I promise it's just the one night. Hey, if I stand close to you I really do look like a porcelain doll." She examined me with a much more careful eye.

"Wait, yes. At first I thought it was the haircut, but you really are shorter than usual. A good two or three inches! What happened?"

"Just a bit of shrinking salve," I told her.

"I got it from an adventurer's outfitter last year. This is only the fourth time I've used it, and the first two were the fittings for this dress. There were some very careful measurements for this effect." She shook her head in disbelief.

"There's always something with you. Anyway, is everything ready?" she asked me.

"Gods I hope so," I sighed.

"I've put enough work in, it really should be ready. This is so much more involved than just tripping a princess." Not that such a simple trick would even work anymore. Almost a quarter of the crowd now is wearing some degree of protective wards in their jewelry or on their person. Anti-sorcery protections are the hot new fashion trend that nobody is talking about openly.

But after watching me use my powers to humiliate one rival or enemy after another, lots of people have started wondering if it could happen to them, and planning accordingly. Even people belonging to houses that are supposedly loyal to our coalition. And not even good sigils! For real protection, you do need the aggressive and comprehensive treatment that the royals had been using.

A ring or medallion with resin-sealed sigils to repel sorcery only really stops me from using sorcery on their person or the ring itself, and I don't use sorcery on people's own bodies because there's no such thing as essence affinity for a human being- save for exactly one exception. But in this room people can afford better protection. Short-ranged and limited, because sigils are all about precise definitions.

Mostly they come packed with instructions like "sorcery may not curve air at my location" or "sorcery may not curve steel that is on my person". And I am years of training away from being able to tell which is which, sigils are not my field. So many people around me that may or may not be able to shut off any specific effect... well, the years of being able to reliably affect these people is at an end. From now on, unreliable it is. Guesswork and luck.

I suppose eventually they'll all start investing in really good wards. That's fine. I've got answers to that too. This is the calm before the storm. Early, waiting, ready. I stand in my place while the pieces move around me. Everyone has their job to do. Speaking of that... I thought as I took the ring from my finger. I held it up to my face, and looked through the small loop with the eye motif. The ring showed me a table, back at my dorm room at the Academy.

The Scryer's Gyre lay flat on that table, just as still as could be. It was official: Nathan was betraying me tonight. Finally. Finally we're pulling this into the open. Whatever slippery spy shenanigans he has been using to avoid tipping his hand, it's over now. Today, we're going to go to conflict, he's working against me, I'm working against him. I still don't read any real hate in it. But he's got his role to play, and I have mine, and one of us has to win.

And win or lose, we're both probably coming out of this stronger. Families are always complicated. I put the ring onto the tabletop, still smiling with satisfaction. This feels momentous. A real clash. We may be making our moves in secret but for once I feel like I understand the motives and the methods. And, better yet, I'm several steps ahead. Unless this is all an even bigger scheme by Nathan, but if so it's going to be amazing because I've done a lot of investigation, a lot of research, and -"Your ring?"

Petunia nudged me.

"What's up?"

"Oh," I chuckled, "the penny just dropped." She just nodded. Nobody gets my jokes.