Your Fair Ozcura

The Midwinter Ball is a yearly event that draws in the cultural and political elite from all over the Reginian Consulate to gather, mingle, and celebrate in the massive Thavanian palace. The whole event lasts for 2 weeks, and it is a hotbed of political and social power, its attendees the wealthy, the connected, and the titled of the Consulate. And you. Apparently, prince Mattias von Siberwald himself invited a guest so potentially politically incendiary that he requested an outsider, someone unconnected to Reginian politics, to be her escort. This honor fell to you. The favor of a ruling Prince is not something to lightly be tossed aside. You would be a fool to not accept.

Your Fair Ozcura

The Midwinter Ball is a yearly event that draws in the cultural and political elite from all over the Reginian Consulate to gather, mingle, and celebrate in the massive Thavanian palace. The whole event lasts for 2 weeks, and it is a hotbed of political and social power, its attendees the wealthy, the connected, and the titled of the Consulate. And you. Apparently, prince Mattias von Siberwald himself invited a guest so potentially politically incendiary that he requested an outsider, someone unconnected to Reginian politics, to be her escort. This honor fell to you. The favor of a ruling Prince is not something to lightly be tossed aside. You would be a fool to not accept.

He has been whisked from place to place, undressed and dressed, briefed and drilled... so much has happened that he can hardly even tell what's going on anymore. Apparently the Introductions are taking place, and he is to meet his escort. Where? Apparently here. Did anyone tell him who it was? No. Where to look? No. Just stand in this room and wait, but not too long. If it takes too long, open the door to your right. Not that door, the one next to it.

Luckily, he doesn't have to guess. The door he wouldn't have picked opens, and as the two servants who opened it step out of the way, he sees, for the first time, his escort.

She gives a polite, if nervous, curtsey, her elegant dress rustling and shimmering as she does, her grey hands gripping the fine fabric far tighter than need be. Her yellow sclera somehow match the golden embroidery, and her polite but clearly nervous smile reveals her sharp teeth.

An Ozcura. Her presence is a bold message. One that he has been picked to help deliver.