Private The Balance Distinguishes Not Between Gold and Lead

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora was keenly aware of each set of eyes as they turned towards the dancing pair. It wasn't the Force - well maybe it was - but also years of honing the tools used to navigate in the high courts of Ukatis.

Those with a lack of self-awareness drowned. A younger Cora had learned to step carefully, but she'd always lacked the killer instinct belonging to more ambitious nobles. Now, she was aware enough to recognize it in the wild.

"You're beginning to sound like a tyrant."

Odette's observation was almost musical, but Cora's was more pointed. Little whispers floated to her from the periphery, some carrying concern, others in admiration. A few were simply holding their breath, uncertain what to make of their performance. It had begun a typical Ukatian waltz, but now they'd escalated into something edgier.

Edgy for Ukatis, as it was.

When the tempo next drew them closer together, Cora readjusted her grip on Mesan. Her feet broke their yielding pattern for bolder, more assertive steps.

"Your friend…"

She leaned in, her voice drifting on a knowing whisper.

"…seems to be struggling with the Duke's advisor."

Cora glanced once toward the aristocrats's table where the trio was still hashing things out.

Razmir Tezhyn

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

She compared him to a tyrant with a blissful ignorance typical for those born to power. As if she'd ever scraped through dirt and stone with bloody fingers, blinded and wheezing from the dust, knowing that the briefest scrape against raw cortosis could end your life in a heartbeat. Knowing that, at any moment, one of the miners could hit a pocket of lethane gas and vaporize half the shift crew.

Maybe she'd seen her own hardship through the years, but she was still one of them. Nobility, who clutched their pearls and held their purses close around orphans like him. Because Force forbid the dirty thieves might steal some common trinket or soon-forgotten jewelry in an attempt to buy themselves another week of life on the streets. If someone else wouldn't leave them bleeding in the gutter for a pair of boots before that week was up.

Razmir didn't voice those thoughts, couldn't voice them. He needed to maintain his cover, to play the Corellian business mogul. Whatever hatred and contempt he felt for this woman in that moment died behind the mask of Mesan Tyrell, heir to a sizeable chunk of the shipyard industry, who'd never faced hardship in his life. He'd let enough of the mask slip already.

"The galactic market is a ruthless place that punishes mistakes relentlessly. You have to adopt certain practices some would find tyrannical in order to survive. It's a sad reality that comes with the territory," he smiled with melancholy in his eyes.

His concentration became split between the dance and the influence over the crowd. The music swelled for what seemed to be the final act, and Odette had become more bold in her steps. Her comments about Cardinal suggested she knew more than he wanted her to. Her involvement might jeopardize the role he needed to play tonight, and he didn't intend on missing his cue because of some Ukatian spy.

He spared a glance toward the duke. Cardinal sat resigned, shoulders slumped and head hung low. The duke and his advisor had gone back to their bickering, pointing fingers in their animated dispute. He shouldn't have let Cardinal talk him out of poisoning that damned advisor.

Raz returned his attention to Odette as the strings built toward the final act of their piece. He adapted to her steps, giving her more space to express herself in their dance. It was a pity she was a noble. She was an excellent dancer.

"You're the only friend—if you forgive my presumption as to call you so—I have at this ball, Lady Odette," he laced his words with uncertainty, projecting confusion. "I've been hoping to speak to the duke, but he's been preoccupied with that drab man of the cloth the entire night."

Corazona von Ascania

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora's features arranged themselves into a look of mild surprise. It was genuine enough. That expression sank into a knowing smile with the barest hints of an underlaying vicious nature. A woman who thought she had a man right where she wanted him.

She didn't believe it, of course. Their dance was quicker, sharper, and each subtle movement seemed to carry a greater significance than it had before.

It wasn't the sort of expression that looked good on her. Cora had always been too earnest to wear cruelty in any natural way.

"Drab?"

The cadence of her steps suddenly changed. Bolder now, and she took the initiative to dip Mesan to the surprised gasps of their audience.

"I do admire a man who knows when to quit."

Then, she receded. Odette did not yield the dance, but she didn't fight him for the lead. She matched him.

"If we are friends, then tell me this;"

Cora leaned in close, her breath drifting against the shell of Razmir's ear. Whispered, her words remained balanced on the edge of a blade between playful and accusing.

"Why do I get the feeling that you'd stick a knife in my back if it served you?"

Razmir Tezhyn

 

[Razmir Tezhyn]

When Razmir found himself abruptly falling backwards, into the arms of Odette, he could feel the threat of a blush that might have crept into his face if every good instinct he possessed didn't tell him this woman was the enemy.

He recovered, sensing he did so less because of a concerted effort to wrest back control of the dance, and more because Odette had yielded the lead in favour of a more equitable dancing arrangement.

And when Odette came close again, to speak in a whisper, he all but got his confirmation that she had picked up on the fact he was no ordinary guest. Or at the very least, she didn't buy into the amicable persona he put on. He didn't reply immediately. The music played on, climbing in crescendo, and indicated the imminent finale of the dance.

This part would be crucial.

The violins accelerated. A wild sequence of notes, jumping back and forth between high and low, but steadily climbing. Razmir quickened the pace, matching the faster rhythm. He stepped further than he should, spun faster than would be expected, moved in, then suddenly away, all to throw Odette off balance. They had become the center of the dance with their unusual blend of foreign influences.

The violins continued to climb, and then reached their zenith. A long, drawn out finale played between them, four violins harmonizing. This would be the moment. All or nothing. Razmir stepped around Odette. He reached out to the crowd, pushing to amplify their emotions beyond what the music could effect. He lifted Odette into the air, to make her the shining center of this dance, so he could hide in her shadow.

The onlookers gasped. The violins finished their final note and embraced silence. Applause rang out a moment later.

Razmir set Odette down, lingering close a moment.

"Because I would," he whispered.

Then he took a few steps back. He gave a bow and a gesture of acknowledgement toward his dance partner, and continued to push on that feeling of fascination within the audience. His thoughts made kindled their spirits, while his words and gestures directed them toward Odette.

"Lady Odette, everyone!" He began to back away from the dance floor. "She has danced with kings and princes! Her devotion to the people of Ukatis and to the arts is unmatched in all the lands. Do not let this evening go by without making her acquaintance!"

Corazona von Ascania