Taking the last steps to the entrance door, Nyaine resisted the urge to fiddle with her hair. Her curls had been made even curlier and a number of hairpins held up an elaborate creation that would surely not survive her messing with it. She unnecessarily smoothed the bodice of her navy blue dress instead. Walking up to the servant next to the entrance, she handed him a folded parchment that she knew contained her invitation.
The servant, wearing light blue livery and carrying a staff almost as tall as himself, only glanced at the paper, bowed properly, welcomed her to the birthday party of his honourable lady and then beckoned her to follow him inside. As the big double doors swung open allowing her wide dark skirt unhindered passage, she had a first glimpse of the guests in the room. They were mostly Cairhienin nobility in the dark coloured clothes and white stripes of rank that marked them as such, standing in small groups each distinctly separated from the next so that conversation could remain private to that group. Elaborate as the lacework and embroidery on her dress was, she would not stand out here tonight.
As she entered, the servant rapped his staff on the floor and in a loud voice announced “Lady Nyaine of house Lintelle” which did not draw more than casual interest from the guests present. Her house did neither have close ties to house Devalaine nor was it particularly noteworthy in and off itself so that the arrival of its youngest offspring was of little interest. Nevertheless, protocol demanded she present herself to the party’s host. As Lady Devalaine was already approaching, that part would not be difficult. She curtsied as the distance between her and the grey-haired homely woman closed.
“My congratulations, my Lady. May I present a small token of my affection”, Nyaine rushed out quickly to get it done and proffered a silver brooch that her mother had selected as a suitable gift for the occasion.
“Thank you, dear, it is quite fashionable”, replied the old lady, smiling at her. Nyaine was unsure whether it was genuine as the smile seemed to not reach Devalaine’s eyes, but her thoughts were interrupted when the other woman continued: “Enjoy yourself, dear, maybe we will talk again later.”
Already she was whisked away by another woman and Nyaine was left standing by herself. With a sweeping glance she took in the hall. There was gleeman entertaining a very small crowd with grand gestures, seemingly telling a story, on the one side and a couple of performing, flamboyantly dressed acrobats on the other. Unfortunately of her age group, no other attendees where to be found apart from one young man maybe five years her elder being harassed by a group of middle-aged women. Wanting nothing to do with that, she joined another group of ladies discussing the latest fashion in the city while keeping a lookout towards the entrance, hoping for someone interesting to arrive that she might talk to.