Death and the Emperor

Book 2 Chapter XIII: Death at a Party

It was a gloomy prospect, and all that she could do was to throw a mist over it, and hope when the mist cleared away, she should see something else. -- Jane Austen, Mansfield Park

The day of the Year's End Ball arrived. Considering certain recent events, Kilan was even less enthusiastic about it than he would have been otherwise. The prospect of having to talk to and dance with a collection of people he neither knew nor trusted... It was enough to make him contemplate locking himself in his room and never coming out again.

He made the mistake of saying this to Nadriet that morning. He was promptly treated to an indignant lecture about how much she was looking forward to the party.

"I've never been at a party this grand before!" she exclaimed, looking at him as if she questioned his sanity. "I'll get to meet so many new people, and I've had a lovely dress made just for the party, and I'll have my hair specially done with jewels braided through it, and if you don't go it'll spoil the ball for everyone else!"

"All right, all right!" Kilan said, holding up his hands. "It was only an idle thought. I know I can't get out of it."

~~~~

A festive atmosphere pervaded through the entire palace. Everywhere servants were rushing to and fro, attending to last minute decorations or carrying chairs down to the large banquet hall. The air of excitement even began to infect Kilan.

Perhaps tonight won't be as terrible as I thought, he reflected as his valet, aided by a hairdresser, fixed Kilan's diadem in place with several long hairpins[1]. This thought was quickly followed by, At least we'll have plenty to eat. From the length of the menu, the cooks must have thought the entire Empire is attending.

At last Kilan was ready. His red and gold robes, embroidered with golden thread and with small gems sewn onto them, glittered when he moved. This combined with his golden diadem made him feel rather like a walking bank vault.

Guests were already gathering downstairs. Qihadal was nowhere to be seen yet.

"She's still getting dressed," one of her maids told him when he asked where she was. "Her hair has a strange texture that's driving the hairdressers to despair. It keeps falling down when they try to style it."

Over an hour later, a decidedly disgruntled Qihadal finally appeared. The hairdressers had apparently given up the battle with her hair. Instead of being swept up in the elaborate curls and buns that most noblewomen wore their hair in, it was braided into several long plaits decorated with ribbons and flowers.

Her lilac and pink dress was made of a material that hung loosely on her, and her gold- and jewel-encrusted diadem sparkled in the light. As Kilan offered her his arm, he thought wryly that whatever else the guests found to gossip about, at least no one could say the Emperor and Empress didn't look sufficiently royal.

~~~~

The grand ballroom was a large room covered with amber and gold paint, with marble pillars placed near the walls, and a floor that probably wasn't made of actual silver but certainly looked as if it was. Silver chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and more lights were fixed to each pillar. The wall facing out onto the gardens was nothing but one large window. The orchestra were positioned in a large alcove behind the pillars, where they could be heard but would not get in anyone's way. A long table with refreshments had been set up in front of the window.

All in all, Kilan thought that even the Iqui would be hard pressed to match the room's grandeur.

Tradition, that bane of Kilan's life, dictated that the Emperor and Empress must dance the first dance together, to officially open the ball. And then they must not dance together again for the rest of the night. Apparently this was to ensure that they both met and interacted with members of the nobility who would otherwise never get to speak to them face to face.