11 - Calren the Shield

In the evening's last hour before twilight a half-moon waxed, contesting the vanishing sun for domain over the violet sky. Sparse spring clouds speckled the atmosphere, while a seemingly endless procession of citizens in the most refined iridescent satins entered into the grandiose dance hall: the women adorned with priceless earrings dangling and clicking musically with their flow, and flaunting hairstyles tall, kept aloft by rainbows of bejeweled circlets and hair pins; and the men, in reserved silken hose and long-coat embroidered boastful with the sundry emblems of their houses, clacking the tiles boisterously with high-heels. No frill or ruffle by either gender restrained.
Cataract-like curtains graced the threshold entryway, granting the whole environ the impression of a vast amphitheater; these coverings had been pulled aside to allow unhampered entry to the droves of stately guests; and pulled as well from the windows to provide ample reception to the strengthening light of the half-waxed moon. The area bayed out to the gardens, where an acre-long reflecting pool went on alike a straight river until the dimness of twilight concealed its farthest extent. This was escorted by a colonnade of towering pines at either side.
The majority of those who made their arrival were comprised of rosy-cheeked women in the bloom of youth; eyes a-spark with hope; necklaces dripping down open-chests; festooned in an array of dresses, all-hues and styles, ranging the whole gamut; from handsomely flamboyant to simplest yet bold as the half-moon; these graced and accentuated bodies of shapeliest form. All daughters of every duke, count, and high lord, come from every corner of Draiagin and from neighbor kingdoms as well; the finest exemplaries of the beautiful(most of them) brought to be put on display; exquisite pastries for the choosing and feast-delight of the Crown Prince.