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  [colpse]Chapter One Hundred and Fifty-Four - It's a Good Day to Dine

  The b speech was b.

  I had heard some b speeches before, of course. My dad was big on talk shows, and pining about politics, which meant that he liked listening to politis say stuff so that he could ter pin about it.

  I had never been to one of those speeches live though. Two minutes into the important harpy on the floating stage telling us all about the many, many people that hanking for the event and my eyes were going blurry. When five minutes passed and he was still droning on about vague stuff like the generosity of sud su anizatiroup, I felt my head getting heavy.

  Rosaline had the right idea when she scooted her chair close to Awen’s and leaned her head onto Awen’s shoulder for a quiap.

  I wao do the same, but Awen looked about ready to colpse under Rosaline’s weight alone, and Amaryllis gave me a warning look when I stared at her shoulder.

  I ended up settling for ying my head dowo my empty pte and allowed my ears to bend forwards and over my eyes. If they couldn't see those, they couldn’t tell if I was sleeping!

  I woke up with a start sometime ter and wiped the drool from the er of my lips. “I’done?” I asked.

  “It is,” Amaryllis firmed. “The food’s ing. Do you want to it for us?”

  I blihe grogginess away then looked around to see a small army of maids and serving men moving about with ptes h by their shoulders. “Food!” I gave a small chher.

  “Indeed,” Amaryllis said. “Do rein in your enthusiasm. I don’t think anyone wants to see what you call dang while you’re bloated from overeating.”

  “Right,” I said. “What was that about ing?”

  “I want you to use your ing magi our meals,” Amaryllis said.

  I bli her. “I do pn on eating it, you know.”

  “Obviously,” she said. “Don’t the ptes, the food. Clear it of any poisons.”

  “Uh,” I said. “You think the food will be poisoned?”

  “Of course not,” Amaryllis said. “I don’t think it, I suspect it.”

  “That’s the same thing,” I pointed out.

  She huffed a ‘that’s semantics’ huff at me. “Most nobles used to have testers and servants who could detect poisons, or indeed it away with them,” she said. “But that became a sign that a harpy didn’t trust the they were visiting.”

  “So... you don’t trust the people here?”

  “Not as far as I could throw them,” Amaryllis said.

  “I’m sure you could throw them fairly far. You’re pretty strong.”

  She huffed again.

  The food arrives at our table. A big savoury looking leg of... some animal. Lamb, maybe? With a whole heap of vegetables around it drizzled in a brownish sauce that was still steaming hot. Then they set down more ptes before each of us, small sads and little ptes of cut vegetables with various sauces.

  It looked like a proper feast, though I did notie strahings. No bird meat, which... that was fair. Also, no cheeses or milk products. Then again, they lived in the mountains and cows took space. There was also a bottle of wihat Clementine poured into everyone’s cups, but I chose not to touch that. I was still too young for drinking.

  Clementine looked my way, and even Rosaline, who was awake though she elected to stay cuddled up to Awen, was staring.

  “Right!” I said.

  I spread my hands as a wizard would (I imagine) and cast a wave of nearly invisible ing magic over everything.

  Other than wiping a bit of sauce off the sides of some ptes, it didn’t seem to do much.

  “Well then, dig in, I suppose,” Clementine said.

  She didn’t have to tell me twice!

  I sampled a bit of everything, even taking a nibble from the meat to see if it tasted good despite my bun-ness, and while it was alright, I didn’t want to risk a tummy ache ter, so I set it aside for a moment while I chowed down ohing else.

  “The dang will be starting soon,” Rosaline said. “You tell because of the band.”

  I perked an ear up to listen, twisting it this way and that to best catch the fleeting notes of a violin. “It’s just the one pyer?” I asked.

  She nodded. “That’s right. That means that after this song they’ll be starting the pre-opening waltz. It’s a sort of... practice piece? Just to make sure all the members of the orchestra are ready. Some people who finish early will dance a bit to that, but the real opening es right after.”

  I nodded along. “And after the dang, what happens? Do we duel that Francisco guy?”

  Amaryllis nodded. “There’s usually a lot of onlookers for the first dahen the ball splits and people go around talking to whomever they want, participate in a few friendly duels, or dail their legs give out.”

  “The party ends when half the guests are gone or too drunk to tinue,” Clementine said.

  “That doesn’t sound all that nice a way to end a ball,” I said.

  “It’s tradition!” Rosaline cheered before ping into a hefty k of meat.

  We were barely finished with our first ptes when a sed round came, this time with a lot more bread and pastries and different tiny portions of fish. I ed them all again and started on the fish. It tasted way better than any fish I’d had bae. The spicy sauces left my lips just a bit tingly and the savoury ones made the fish melt in my mouth.

  The breads were very pin, not sweet like the bread I was used to, but that made it great for soaking off the leftovers on our ptes.

  I was almost full to bursting by the time the dessert came around.

  It was only with great reluce that I didn’t finish the slice of cake before me.

  “I’m stuffed,” I decred.

  “Idiot,” was Amaryllis’ immediate reprisal. She didn’t look much better though. She was one colour ge away from looking like a stuffed turkey.

  We sat in tented, food-a induced silence for a few minutes while the music below shifted and the entire orchestra joined in on a slow bald-like song. It was the orchestral equivalent of elevator music, with no inspiring high notes and few melodramatic lows.

  Rosaline was the first to really move. “We should burn off some of this food,” she said. “Do you feel like dang, Awen?”

  “Um. I wouldn’t mind that,” Awen said as she stood up herself. She finished off the st of her goblet of wine a back down before smiling shyly at Rosaline. “Ready when you are.”

  “We should go too,” I told Amaryllis. “I suppose you’ll want to dah me?”

  “Are you saying I couldn’t find someone else to dah?” she said as she got up.

  I shook my head. “Of course not. I’m sure there are plenty of eligible bachelors who think that you’re really cute and would love to dah you. They’d be all noble and prince-like, and talk about how great their s are, and how you could be a stay-at-home mom...”

  Amaryllis grabbed my hand and started moving towards the dancefloor, her stomping steps in time with my ughter.

  I almost felt bad for leaving Clementine behind, but she soon stood up and joined a crowd of older harpies to start talking with them. She didn’t seem all that keen on dang.

  The band eheir slow practice song a everyone join up in twos in the tre of the dance floor. There were so many people that navigating around to find a spot to stand i slipping past poofy half-skirts and puffed out wings.

  The band started pying a waltz, and Amaryllis and I started to step and spin in time with the music.

  We spun and strutted, and Amaryllis tilted her nose up and started to fp her wings about in her not-quite-chi dance. I giggled at her motions but followed suit.

  The ball had been a bit stuffy so far, but the harpies and the few others on the dance floor didn’t seem to care much for that. Sure, they were dang very formally, but I saw lovers holding each other so close that it was almost inappropriate and friends ughing and giggling along.

  We ended up o a pair of young men who strutted quite fancily o us, clearly trying to get our attention, and succeeding when they both tried to dahe ‘male’ part of the da the same time and ended up bumping foreheads.

  Amaryllis and I just switched bad forth, with increasingly silly and fanciful flourishes to one-up each other.

  Some time ter, maybe only a few minutes, or maybe more, we stepped off the floor, both a little sweaty and warm, but glowing with barely suppressed giddiness.

  “I need a drink,” I said.

  “I saw you avoiding the wine earlier,” Amaryllis said. “Want something stiffer?”

  “Uh, no, I want water. Maybe juice?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sure they have some around the children’s tables.”

  “Perfect!” I said.

  Amaryllis ughed. “You idiot,” she said. “Maybe after you’ve gotten drunk on pead apple juice, we find Francisd his flunkies. I’d rather get that over with.”

  “Sure!” I said before pulling her along towards the back. “By the way, are there rules to the duel?”

  “No killing, nothing too extreme. Anything else will be outlined by whomever is the arbiter.”

  “Alright!” I said.

  We found a se off to one side of the first floor where the tables were smaller and hidden behind a half-wall. The harpies there were all much smaller and tucked away in cute little dresses and suits that made them look adorably serious, especially with their poofy dowhers stig out every which way.

  I found a big punch bowl of juid quenched my thirst while Amaryllis sipped from a flute she’d grabbed along the way.

  We were on our way to the back of the ballroom, and towards the spot where duels and other such stuff were taking pce--sensibly, it was all doside and out of the way--when our path was blocked by a familiar face.

  “Captain Bunch,” Bastion said.

  I looked the sylph up and down before responding. “Mister Bastion,” I said.

  “I was w if... perhaps we could dance? Just for a moment.”

  “And accuse her of more nonsense?” Amaryllis asked with some bite.

  I pced a hand on her shoulder. “Mister Bastion, I would love to be your friend, but you were a bit... mean, earlier. It’s kind of strahat you want to danow.”

  Bastion ColdfrontDesired Quality: Someoh whom to fight for what is right.Dream: To bee a padin renowned across Dirt

  “I... merely wish to recile our differences,” he said. “If we are to work together, then being anythihan cordial would be a detriment to our teamwork.”

  I nodded along. “Alright,” I said. “That sounds nice. You don’t mind, do you Amaryllis?”

  “I’ll be here,” she said, “keeping an eye on you two.” The way she stared at Bastion suggested that ‘you two’ meant him.

  Bastion reached out a hand to guide me to the dancefloor, and I carefully took it, ign the way he flinched a little at the tact.

  “So, Captain Bunch,” he said as we began to dance along to a slower, more romantic pieusic. “How long have you captained your ship?”

  It was a bit strange dang with someone so much shorter than me, but not too bad. “Oh, a day or two,” I said.

  Bastion missed his step.

  I was holding back a giggle when I heard a cry from above.

  We both looked up, and at that moment, the ballroom exploded.

  ***

  AnnouHello!

  So, the month is nearing its end! I figured I’d give a quick rey backlog since I spent a lot of time w on it retly! My ght now is to attract more patrons by dangling delicious, delicious words before you all.

  As ht now:Stray Cat Strut: Patrons are at Chapter 33 - Approx 15K ahead of current postingFluff: Patrons are at Chapter Epilogue - Approx 6K ahead of current postingamon Bun: Patrons are at Chapter 186 - Approx 68K ahead of current postingThe Agartha Loop: Patrons are at Chapter 08 - Approx 20K ahead of current posting

  Total backlog size: 109K

  Still much smaller than what I’d want. 107K is about one month’s writing for me. I’d like to be about 3 months ahead, but it’ll probably take 6 months of writing to get that much of a lead.

  Also check out the character art fartha by the super-talented KrazeKode: