Upon Angira's insistent request, Eireen found herself at the Toran Festival, wishing to be anywhere but inside the palace full of sneering nobles. She had entered the palace in a gown of gold brocade with her fiery hair only half up and tumbling down her pale bare shoulders. A single simple pendent lay against her throat and even though the ensemble was simple, Angira had a knack for making such things somehow elegant. One of the servants, Moira she believed was the name, was apparently quite skilled in the application of cosmetics and had sculpted the face of Eileen into that of a princess out of a fairy tale. The woman had dusted gold dust across her cheeks to accentuate Eileen's already high cheekbones, meticulously painted her lips a deep warm red and lined her eyes with a delicate and steady hand, lengthened and darkened her lashes, and smoothed over her lids a blend of copper and neutral brown pigments. Eileen could hardly say she was displeased with the woman's handiwork. She almost didn't quite recognize her own reflection. Before leaving the estate, Eileen had applied a few dabs of almond perfume with vanilla and orange blossom undertones to her person. An old habit she had picked up from her apprenticeship under Angira. When the two arrived at the palace, Eileen could not help but feel on edge, a pricking at the back of her neck as if she were being watched.<br/><br/>The main hall was as bustling with activity as ever, a sea of vibrant silks with a cloud of cloying perfume hovering over them. The servants were dressed in the palace finery, carrying plates of mouthwatering fish and poultry and succulent fruit. A single whiff made Eileen's stomach grumble with temptation. The orchestra's skillfully played music competed with the uproar of conversation throughout the hall and Angira watched with fascination as the younger nobility danced, playing the age old game of flirtation and manipulation. Meanwhile, Eileen's eye was drawn to all the elaborate paintings decorating the walls. Most detailed the greatest exploits of rulers past. Nearest to them was a portrait of Escaria's current king, Andreas Cordeleo, standing tall and valiant in his polished armor and his mane of red hair blowing in the wind. King Andreas was known for his strength and his many conquests over Escaria's enemies. To have defeated three other nations so thoroughly at the tender age of sixteen, the history books praised him as a military genius. Angira, however, had always scoffed and said it was pure dumb luck and adversaries run by feeble old men. Yet still the nation praised him. He and Queen Danica had but one son who would inevitably inherit the throne, though what Eileen heard of the prince through hushed tones and paranoid glances made her nervous to say the least. If Prince Tristan wasn't temperamental, then he was lustful and chasing skirts, if not that, then being a spoiled drunkard. There were rumors that his mother, stricken with fear from several miscarriages and stillbirths, clung to him to the point of bending over backwards to please him. Eileen shook her head, attempting to banish the thoughts from her mind. No, she would not think of unpleasant things tonight. Besides, it was unlikely any member of the royal family would deign to acknowledge an upstart like her.<br/><br/>Almost as soon as she had done so, a ring-laden hand tapped Eileen on the shoulder and she turned to find the king's advisor, Reynard Findlay, standing before her. A tall bald man with a salt-and-pepper beard, he was garbed all in grey and cobalt. A gold lion broach sat pinned to his breast. The man presented her with a thin-lipped smile, his gaze cordial and welcoming, a rare sight for the Rethwoods among the nobility.<br/><br/>"Good evening, Lady Rethwood, I am glad to see that you and your mother could make it to the festival this year," he said in a voice as cool and calming as a balm. "I assure you, you will not be disappointed by the night's festivities."<br/><br/>Eileen gave him the first genuine grin she had had all night. The royal advisor was well known for his politeness and way with people. His rise to the position had been somewhat of a scandal, given that his father had been executed as a traitor, yet King Andreas was nothing but bold and Reynard had ever been a loyal servant to his monarch.<br/><br/>"Thank you, Lord Findlay, though I am afraid we won't be staying long," Eileen responded as she began wringing her hands, an old nervous habit. "Angira and I tend to be early to bed and early to rise. Besides, I'm more comfortable working than socializing."<br/><br/>"Well, I hope you at least stay for the night's main event," Reynard chuckled, not discouraged in the slightest. "It would be a shame if you were not present for it. I'm certain it will be of great interest to you. However, because I am hardly fond of leaving my guests hanging in suspense, would you allow me a dance? I believe we both need to fulfill our social quotas for the evening."<br/><br/>Eileen couldn't help but laugh at the man's charm. Everyone said Advisor Findlay had a silver tongue. Apparently the rumors were true.<br/><br/>"Very well, in the interest of social obligation," she answered, allowing him to take her hand and escort her to the dance floor. The musicians struck up a fairly lively tune and for once Eileen felt as if she could join with confidence, a suit of armor afforded to her by a man none of the nobility would dare disrespect even if they had wanted to for fear of the king's wrath. There were certainly stares. It was a given considering her remarkable partner. To her surprise, he was quite light on his feet for a middle-aged man. He moved with a cat-like grace and Eileen found she had to remind herself that royal advisor had once been a skilled swordsman. Perhaps he had never truly put down the sword.<br/><br/>"You know, Queen Vestala wore a very similar dress the first Toran Festival under her reign," Reynard observed as their palms lay flat against each other during a turn. "The hair was styled rather similarly as well. You could very well be her twin if I didn't know any better."<br/><br/>Vestala had been the mother of King Andreas, a queen renowned for her beauty and negotiation skills. Somehow Eileen doubted there was any truth to his words. Just simple flattery. Another social obligation to the king's guests. A lot of women had red hair and slender figures. Plenty of women had grey eyes, and she couldn't even count how many women had gold dresses. She was hardly special.<br/><br/>"I appreciate your flattery, but I'm sure that if you dressed up any other redheaded woman in the country in a gold gown and powdered her you would have numerous doppelgangers of a dead queen," she replied, and as the song ended they exchanged a bow and a curtsy. "But I thank you for the dance. I hope you are able to fulfill the rest of your social quota."<br/><br/>With a conspiratorial wink and a smile, Eireen left him and returned to the crowd to find either the food or Angira. Whichever came first.