Thar Shaddin

125PW, Spring

The Vida family was a quirk in Corezo. They did not precisely claim fealty to any one ruling family in the duchies, instead choosing to put their services directly at the feet of the consulate; their love of empire was well known, and as such protected them from most of the underhanded politicking that went on amongst the powerful families. No one, after all, could be seen to slight them for their love of the Emperor, though plenty was said about it behind closed doors. And while it could be said that there was often a tug-of-war in persuasion for this artisan family, the rumors of underhanded means seemed to disappear so quickly that it never rose above the level of whispered sideboard conversation.

You see, the Vidas were dye-makers, renowned for some of the clearest and brightest examples of the Corezan 45. They had their secrets, and no short supply of ingenuity; they were and had been at the forefront of pigmentation for the last century or so. Not only did they create beautiful coloration, but they held techniques unique to them. They were prized by artists, clothiers, clothmakers, merchants, and -- after having made enough of a name for themselves in the other provinces -- the powerful.

After a current contract had found one of the older branches of the family settled in Cenciu Morua, it had been made clear to the venerable in that city that they would be hosting a debutante ball for three of their young women, and in doing so inviting anyone who was anyone within the city walls and immediately surrounding. There had been some gossip that they were inviting prominant members of each major families to ensure a full spectrum representation, but no one would ever be sure but those individuals who might have received such invites, and they weren't talking.

Belleza and Qadis were thus present the night of the event. So was Costanca, being that she was to be the primary representative of the Morua family. Given its location, it made sense one of the scions needed to be there, and given the importance of her sisters...well, Luysa had fairly ordered Costanca to go, not that it'd taken much.

Costanca loved parties. Considering the wealth of the Vida family, it was certain that this would be all of the things Costanca loved: good food, good music, good wine, and beautiful dresses.

She, herself, had dressed in pigment orange, set off with cerise and pigment yellow. Her half-veil, lace with a small ivory ribbon and pinned in place with a broach. The message, fussed over by one of her attendants, was congratulatory and solidarity, with compliments to the ongoing skill and fortune of the family. Luysa had been brutal about undertones, informing Costanca that there were to be none. Costanca was not well known for her political acuity or subtlety, and at such an event Luysa was not about to start more feuds with other families. Costanca's part was a message from the head of the family; the actual politics would be taken care of by lesser members of the family.

Set free to roam the floor, Costanca admired the Casa de Color Brillante -- the Vida's newest Cenciu Morua mansion. It had been beautifully done, despite its rather gauche name, combining classic architecture with modern flourishes. They had used different colored stones on its front, creating an effect quite unlike anything Costanca had seen before in Moruan architecture. She knew by year's end it would be all the rage, though she suspected its popularity would not last more than a decade.

The insides of the receiving hall and ballroom were decorated in welcoming colors, and those of youth and celebration. It was dazzling, complete with many-hued mage lights and sparkling decorations. Two statues of minotaurs had been brought to life to act as servors, dressed in modern fashions and crowned with wreaths made of daisies. The three young women who had been debuted trailed rose petals wherever they walked; Costanca suspected it was the hem of their dresses that had been enchanted, though it was so cleverly done as to not me immediately apparent. Such was the wealth of money that had been spent on the party, and even after an hour of mingling once the debutantes had been announced and her slow descent into boredom, it was still impressive.

Costanca roamed the floor, orbited by her attendant and two of her closest hangers-on, looking for someone new to chafe.

Marcella held a regal position by the punch bowl, happy to have escaped her father yet again and throughly bored of the whole affair. Parties would be much for fun if there wasn't a not-so-secret agenda behind every single man that Ramiro Guiate De Morua introduced to her. If she heard another whisper about how she would be 'tamed' once she was married to señor so-and-so she would scratch the eyes out of the offending party. She grinned at the thought as she glanced down at her long polished nails as she had her glass refilled. As much as she desired too indulge in some of the intoxicating concoctions that had been created especially for the occasion Marcella knew better then to let her wits be dulled when her father was on the prowl for would-be suitors or when they were on the prowl for a pretty wife.

Marcella was a fine 'prize'. Her family was from one of the three ruling family and the Guiate name had been steadily becoming a name to be reckoned with. If Ramiro only had a son fit to inherit his work, their position would be all but cemented in the future as well as history. Unfortunately her older brother, also in attendance, was too much of a drunkard and a partier to be considered and her younger brother, well at this point was too young to have much say if something was to happen to her father. Which left the only daughter, who was a woman and a headstrong one at that. While she alone would likely not stand a change at inheriting the growing family business, her husband might if he proved himself worthy of his wife's family work and name. If only she had been a meek and mild lady like her aunt tried to groom her to be she most likely have suitors lined up and out the door if only for her name and potential inheritance. Marcella had other plans for her future and at the moment the last thing she needed or wanted was a husband much to the chagrin of her esteemed padre.

Marcella's pigment yellow dress wasn't necessarily to her liking, she tended to feel that the colour washed her out - she tended to favour dark and vivid colours but sadly too much negatively could be assumed from most of the colours that she enjoyed. She she stuck to what her aunt or her maids chose for her. Thankfully the violet details and accessories she had both complimented the hosts of the grand (and somewhat gaudy in her eyes) affair and provided her with a little please over her attire. Unfortunately even with a million pins stabbing into her skull, many of them tipped with tiny flowers, were not doing the job to keep her hair in its strict updo, although she was sort of enjoying the cascading curls that fell across her shoulder with each pin the pull out and jabbed back in.

Marcella groaned as she saw Costanca on the prowl, her little entourage giggling behind her making her think of the chicken that roamed around the stables...chickens with strap claws and beaks. She turned her back to the group hoping that they would walk on by. As much as they were related, they were also competitors in more then one way. And Marcella just found her annoying at times.