{Armia}

Armia leaned against the balcony railing as she took another long sip of wine.

The rich liquid warmed her from the inside out, dulling her anxiety if only briefly, and the disappointment she felt.

[Well, this is going swimmingly,] she thought wryly. [Hours into the gala, and the only person I've managed to talk to is a grizzled old general. I mean, that's something, I guess, but still... So much for networking.]

"... and, yeah," Armia continued, "the guy went down face-first."

Beside her, Neal chuckled just as Armia finished telling her story.

"So, let me get this straight," he said, his voice gruff but not unkind. "You actually tripped your professor? On purpose?"

Armia smiled, remembering that day.

She hadn't, but she wished she had.

"I swear it was an accident," she insisted. "But the way he went flying... Gods, you should have seen his face when he got up. He was convinced I was some sort of darian assassin, sent to infiltrate the academy."

Neal threw his head back and laughed, a deep, booming sound that drew a few curious glances from nearby nobles. Armia found herself laughing along, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

"Did he ever forgive you for that?"

Armia snorted - [ugh, don't make such an unladylike sound, Armia! Not here!] - as she sipped from her wine.

"Of course not. Right up until he transferred to some village, he was convinced I was out to get him."

"How terrible."

As their laughter subsided, Neal fixed her with a curious look.

"I have to ask, though," he said, gesturing towards the dance floor with his glass. "Why haven't you joined in? Surely a young lady like yourself would have no shortage of willing partners."

Armia raised an eyebrow, glancing down at her muscular frame and golden scales.

"Do I look like the type to you, General?" she asked dryly. "As much as I've practiced, I fear I'm more likely to step on someone's toes than sweep them off their feet."

Neal shrugged.

"Dancing's not all about grace, you know. Sometimes it's about confidence, about owning who you are." He tilted his head, studying her. "But if you're not here to dance, why come at all?"

Armia sighed, her tail curling around her leg self-consciously.

"I... I have goals," she said, her voice softer now. "I plan to be a proper noble lady one day. And to do that, I need to attend these events, to learn the etiquette, the customs."

"A noble lady, eh?" Neal stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And what's your plan for that? Family connections? Marriage? Bribery?"

Armia looked away.

"You make it sound so simple."

"It is." Neal leaned in, his voice lowering conspiratorially. "You could marry into a noble family, though that comes with its own set of challenges. Or perhaps you could perform some great service for the kingdom, earn a title that way. Some even buy their way in, though that's frowned upon in polite society."

Armia blushed a bit, sighing softly.

"I... I was hoping to become the court sorceress," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I thought if I could prove myself, show them how skilled I am with magic..."

Neal's eyebrows shot up.

"Court sorceress? That's quite the ambition. How's that going for you?"

Armia's shoulders slumped, and she took another long drink of wine.

"Not... not as well as I'd hoped," she admitted. "I've been struggling with my magic lately. It's like... like I've hit a wall, and I can't seem to break through."

Neal nodded sagely, his one good eye looking up at the star-studded sky.

"You know," he said, his voice taking on a distant quality, "I remember my first days as a soldier. I had all these grand ideas about what it would be like. Glory, honor, adventure... I thought I'd be a hero." Your journey continues on My Virtual Library Empire

Armia turned to face him fully, intrigued despite herself.

"And... was it what you thought it would be?"

Neal chuckled, but there was a sadness in it that made Armia's chest tighten.

"Not even close," he said softly. "It was hard, dirty work. More terror than glory, more pain than honor. I wanted to quit a hundred times in those first few months."

"But you didn't," Armia said, more statement than question.

"No, I didn't," Neal agreed. "Because I realized something important. The glory, the honor... they weren't the point. The point was doing what needed to be done, being there for my comrades. Protecting them."

Armia frowned, her brow furrowing.

[I see...]

"In any case," Neal shook his head, "if you're that certain you want to be a noble lady, would it not be better to explore every single option?"

Armia nodded slowly.

"I guess so," she replied, though she wasn't too sure what that entailed.

---

{Melisa}

As the Third Swing was about to begin, Melisa found herself at the center of attention at a table full of nobles.

Their eyes gleamed with curiosity and, in some cases, barely concealed desire.

"Lady Blackflame," a portly nobleman with a monocle leaned in, his breath heavy with the scent of expensive wine, "is it true that you can use all schools of magic? That's unheard of!"

Melisa smiled back, looking away from him and glancing at a human lady to the left.

"Well, my lord, I indeed can. It's a good thing too, after all, I do enjoy... experimenting." She winked, causing the woman to flush a deep red.

[God, this is too easy.]

As the conversation continued, Melisa's eyes scanned the ballroom.

The dancers were preparing for the Third Swing (with Isabella blowing a kiss Melisa's way), nobles were mingling, and servants weaved through the crowd with trays of drinks and hors d'oeuvres.

Everything seemed... normal.

[Too normal,] Melisa thought, a frown creasing her brow. [Raven was right. Shouldn't something have happened by now? I doubt the Shadow Mages wouldn't do anything tonight.]

For a brief, blissful moment, Melisa allowed herself to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, there wouldn't be an attack. That this night might actually go smoothly.

[Oh, fuck me,] she mentally groaned, almost slapping herself for such naivety. [Get it together, Mel. Something's bound to go tits up eventually.]

Just then, a flash of gold caught her eye. Armia had entered the ballroom, looking slightly flushed and... was that a smile on her face?

"Excuse me, ladies and gentlemen," Melisa said, rising from her seat with a graceful flourish. "Duty calls."

As she walked away, she heard one of the nobles mutter, "What a fascinating creature."

Melisa's grin widened.

[You have no idea, buddy.]

She intercepted Armia near the edge of the dance floor, wrapping her friend in a quick hug.

"Hey, you! Where have you been hiding all night?"

Armia cleared her throat.

"I've been talking with this general, Neal. We spent hours just chatting on the balcony... Though, I spent most of that time drinking."

Melisa could tell, given the gust of alcohol that hit her face when Armia spoke.

[Talk about breathing fire, eh?]

Melisa raised an eyebrow.

"Sounds nice."

"It was. We talked about... life, I guess." Armia sighed. "And you?"

Melisa leaned in, lowering her voice.@@novelbin@@

"You'll never believe what happened. I've been invited to dine with the king and queen after this dance."

Armia's eyes widened.

"The king and queen? Melisa, that's incredible! And terrifying. Mostly terrifying but also incredible."

"Tell me about it," Melisa chuckled nervously. "I'm half convinced they're going to serve me as the main course."

Just then, the orchestra struck up the opening notes of the Third Swing.

The dance floor began to fill with couples, their elaborate gowns and suits swirling in a dizzying array of colors.

Melisa's eyes lit up, and she grabbed Armia's hand.

"Come on, let's dance!"

Armia hesitated, her tail, so much bigger and thicker than Melisa's, curling around her leg self-consciously.

"Oh, I don't know, Melisa. You'd probably rather dance with someone else. Someone more... graceful."

Melisa rolled her eyes, tugging Armia towards the dance floor.

"Don't be ridiculous. There's no one I'd rather dance with than you. Besides," she added with a wink, "I've got a reputation to maintain. Can't have people thinking I only associate with boring, conventional dancers."

"But what if I step on your toes?" Armia protested weakly, even as she allowed Melisa to lead her onto the floor.

"Then I'll step on yours right back," Melisa grinned. "Come on, Armia. Live a little! Show these stuffy nobles what a darian can do."

As they took their position among the other dancers, Melisa couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for her friend. Armia might not see it herself, but to Melisa, she was beautiful, strong, and absolutely worthy of being here.

"Ready?" Melisa asked, placing one hand on Armia's waist and taking her other hand in her own.

Armia took a deep breath, then nodded, a determined glint in her orange eyes.

"Ready. But don't say I didn't warn you when we end up in a tangled heap on the floor."

Melisa leaned in with a smirk.

"I don't think I'd mind that with you~" Her tail brushed against Armia's massive cock by "accident".

Armia blushed, rolling her eyes.

[Not a bad way to calm down before the main event,] Melisa thought, her thoughts briefly flicking back to the matter at hand. [Dinner with the king and queen, as soon as this Swing is over... Alright. Let's do this.]