The Morning of the Moths (Nissabella)

[Poison]

Summer 1, 512 AV

Chemah vo Ranek – the Morning of the Moths – was the biggest event of the season. Maybe it was even the biggest event of the year – and it was certainly the longest lasting. It always took place at the beginning of summer, on four consecutive days. No Symenestra went on a Harvest or hunted in the forest above during the festival, and those that were on the surface always tried to be home by the time the festival began. Sometimes traders stayed in Kalinor during the festival, hoping to get their hands on the precious silk and the tapestries that the Symenestra made especially for it, but no visitors came to Kalinor after the festival had begun – and nobody left. Chemah vo Ranek was a time when the Symenestra wanted to be among themselves, when Kalinor almost seemed to be closed off from the outside world.

Chemah vo Ranek was a festival to honor the Ranekissra, the moths whose coccoons were used to create the silk that was Kalinor’s primary export. A lot of Symenestra spent the whole year before that working on especially beautiful and colorful clothes that they wore solely during the festival. Some even sewed costumes that were made to imitate the moths. Most residents of Kalinor also decorated their homes with curtains in intense jewel tones so that the city resembled something out of a fairy tale, a thing of impossible, nearly otherworldly beauty.

The festival always began the same way, with a weaving contest. The winners received a prize purse, and their tapestry was exhibited in the Gathering Hall, among the works of previous winners. The tapestries that didn’t win a prize were often sold. For the past couple of years members of the Anthurium Web had won the contest, but Avarys and Alessa Anthurium had announced that they wouldn’t participate in the contest this year. They had stated that it would be unfair. And thus the Ivy Web’s tapestry had been chosen. The Ivy Web were fishermen and not a particularly well known or influential Web, but after that – and the youngest son’s sucess as a dancer – that was about to change.

At the same time that the tapestry contest took place the Moth Queen was chosen. She was always a well liked, unmarried girl who would play an integral role during the festival, together with her friends, the so called moths. She would visit as many Webs as possible and often give those that she visited small gifts. Her moths assisted her in this. In the past the role had been coveted, and the young women in Kalinor had done what they could to influence the decision. There had been a veritable competition, but after the previous moth queen’s near death that had changed. Everything was a little calmer since Selaria Anice had been poisoned. It was said that the poor girl was still not completely well.


~~~~

It was early in the morning on the first day of summer that somebody knocked on Nissabella’s door. If she opened, she would see Vass Vervein, one of the most important members of the Ochya standing there. He stepped inside before she could invite him and then immediately ordered her to close the door. „I have to tell you something important“, he informed her. „I’ll make it short. You, Nissabella Rose, have been chosen as the new Moth Queen. Your beauty and your skill as a dancer have apparently attracted some attention. I’m supposed to escort you to the Gathering Hall. Are there any people who you would like to be your moths?“

~~~

Soraya Orchid was waiting. She had been waiting all night long, listening at the door so that she would know immediately when they came to escort her to the Gathering Hall. She was sure that she would be chosen as Moth Queen. She was one of Kalinor’s most eligible young women. She was beautiful, talented and charming and about to marry Avarys Anthurium, even though the man didn’t have a clue yet. There was no better candidate than her. Who else was there? Silenva? She was the daughter of the ruling couple. That would have been unfair. Besides, she was old. Sarya, that little wannabe priestess? Nissabella Rose?

[Nissabella Rose]

On the night before the first day of summer, Nissabella of the Rose Web had gone to bed with wistful thoughts of the next day's festivities and a little pain contracting in her heart. Ever since she was a little girl, waiting and watching wide-eyed during her first Chemah vo Ranek for the entrance of the Moth Queen and her attendant moths, she had dreamed of someday being crowned as the Moth Queen herself and receiving the adulation and admiration of Kalinor's citizens. She wanted to walk draped in gorgeous silks and grace the homes of other Webs with her presence. Every year, before the tragedy of last year's Moth Queen being poisoned had made the position less coveted, Nissabella had competed feverishly for the position along with dozens of other young girls. Every year, she had watched in the Gathering Hall as another young woman was honored as the Moth Queen instead of her. By now, Nissabella knew it was too late. This year, she was sure that Silenva Hyacinth, the daughter of Kalinor's ruling couple, would be chosen as the Moth Queen. Sensuous, devastatingly beautiful, and widely admired, she was the perfect choice. Nissabella knew from experience that she couldn't possibly compete against her and hope to prevail. Then next year, Nissabella would have reached the ripe old age of twenty, much too old to hold her own against the sixteen- and seventeen-year-olds with their fresh cheeks and bright smiles. Her Web wasn't important enough to Kalinor to help her chances, either. The only notable member of her family was her older brother, who served in the Ochya. She would never be able to become the Moth Queen. She went to sleep dreaming that Silenva came knocking on her door the next day and asked her to be one of her moths, to stand beside her and assist her in her duties. However, in the strange way that dreams often did, this one shifted in an alarming and unexpected way. In her dream, Nissabella found herself watching as Silenva's face metamorphosed into the face of the Benshira girl she had met and befriended in the Nest, her reddish-brown hair and sun-bronzed skin shrouded in the Moth Queen's silken veil. The girl reached her arms out to Nissabella in entreaty, but now she wasn't asking her to be one of the moths; she was begging for her life. She was dying, the Symenestra child inside her killing her. Nissabella couldn't grasp her hands in time before the Benshira girl slowly fell backwards and dropped down, down into the darkness below Kalinor. Tears oozed from Nissabella's eyes as she slept, and she tossed fitfully in her hammock. Thus, she was still asleep when the knock sounded on her door the next morning. For a moment, she thought that her dream was a reality and either Silenva or her dead friend awaited her. It took a moment for Nissabella to shake herself awake and stumble toward the door, her hair still tousled and her eyes bleary with sleep. The sight of Vass Vervein on her doorstep took her breath away. He was so curt and abrupt in delivering the astonishing, impossible news that Nissabella couldn't believe it was true. She stared at him, her jaw hanging open. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. This wasn't the way she'd imagined being selected as the Moth Queen would be. It was supposed to be magical and wonderful; there would be flowers and silk and poetry praising her beauty and talent. Handsome young guardsmen would form an honor guard around her as she was conducted to the Gathering Hall, while musicians played a triumphal march. It wasn't supposed to be like this, just one man telling her, all alone in her home. Wasn't it? Still, a smile stole over Nissabella's features and a rosy blush of pleasure crept up her cheeks. Disbelief became belief as Vass Vervain watched her and waited for her reply. She wanted to jump and down in joy, to squeal like a little girl, to dance. "I-I...this is all so unexpected," she stammered instead, trying to contain herself. "I had no idea...I was certain that Silenva Hyacinth... If I had known you were coming, I would have been properly dressed and neat, not a mess like this." She gave a sheepish little laugh. "As for my moths...hmm, let me think..." After some thought, she named two fellow dancers from the Cobweb, the two pretty silver-haired girls who had been at the audition with her, and Aessila Curare, her best friend from school who now served as a cook. Unobtrusively, she combed at her hair and rubbed her face to make herself look a little more presentable. She was a little ashamed of how she probably looked nothing like a Moth Queen could at the moment. "If...if you don't mind my asking," she said diffidently to Vass Vervein, "what happens now? Are you taking me to the Gathering Hall now?"

[Poison]

„I bet it is“, Vass remarked as Nissabella told him that it was all so unexpected. The tone of the Ochya’s voice was calm. He sounded professional, maybe a bit too professional. Had this been any other year, hadn’t Selaria almost died and hadn’t the moths in the Rose Cavern been killed, she might have gotten handsome young men that flirted with her, but as it was, she got a gruff, paranoid, middle aged member of the Ochya who might have been handsome twenty years ago.

„Silenva Hyacinth wasn’t among our candidates“, he replied. „She’s already twenty-three. The Moth Queen is a girl, not a woman. We decided that the upper age limit should be nineteen or twenty. Besides, choosing the ruling couple’s daughter would be unfair.“

„I’m afraid I couldn’t announce my visit beforehand“, he continued and cast a glance to the door as if he expected an assassin to come for Nissabella. „After last year we needed to take certain precautions. Nobody will know who the Moth Queen is until you step out of the Gathering Hall. As for your not being properly dressed, a gown will be provided to you in the Gathering Hall. The members of the Weft and Warp have been working on it for the past couple of months. There is no need for you to find something to wear.“

„There will also be somebody to do your hair and makeup, and we’ll have refreshments for you of course.“

„As for what happens now, I am indeed taking you to the Gathering Hall. We’ll use the back door so that the people who are already waiting outside won’t see you. If you can’t decide who you want as your moths, there’s still a little time. I can ask my colleagues to get them.“

„Is there anything else you want to know before we proceed?“

~~~

Soraya Orchid was still waiting. She waited and waited – and waited some more – but there was no sign of the handsome young men that were supposed to escort her to the Gathering Hall. Well, if they didn’t come to her she would come to them! She put on that gorgeous white silk dress she had recently bought, forced her sister, a rather homely maid of sixteen to do her hair, and then she paid a couple of young men who had been trying in vain to get her attention a visit. The Moth Queen couldn’t arrive at the Gathering Hall alone of course. If they refused to crown her, she would just crown herself!

[Nissabella Rose]

Glancing quizzically at the dry, all-too-professional Vass Vervein, Nissabella repeated the names of the three girls she'd thought of a few minutes ago for her moths: the two pretty silver-haired dancers who had been with her at the lovers' dance audition and her old school friend Aessila Curare. Wondering if only three moths wasn't enough, she hesitantly named another girl, a maker of bows and arrows for the Kalinor's hunters, a girl that Nissabella would never have met if they weren't both Esterians opposed -- for very dissimilar reasons -- to the practice of surrogacy. Despite their differences, she and Nissabella had grown quite close, but Nissabella had hesitated to name her because of their Esterian connection. For all her fervency of feeling for the movement, Nissabella didn't always feel comfortable publicizing her loyalties. Most Symenestra embraced the use of surrogates. What if openly being an Esterian hurt her dance career? What if it jeopardized her chances for becoming the Moth Qu… A slow smile spread across Nissabella's face. She was the Moth Queen now! Vass Vervein had just told her he was taking her to the Gathering Hall, which confirmed it. Nissabella didn't have to worry about that anymore; she'd made it! She didn't need to be afraid of being known as an Esterian anymore. Perhaps, for once, now that she was about to be crowned, she might even be able to be proud of it. "No," she answered at last in response to Vass' polite query, "no, I don't think I need to know anything else. I've seen these 'coronations' ever since I was a little girl. I just never thought I'd be at the center of them for once!" She had to fight hard to keep from gushing. "I have to admit, I wonder why I was chosen, of all the girls," Nissabella added musingly, "but I don't suppose that's something you could tell me. Oh, well. Let me just fetch a few things…" The smile that she turned on Vass was almost dazzling in its intensity. She bent quickly to rummage through the piles of loose fabric on the floor until she found the silk sashes she'd hoped to wear as the Moth Queen: a shining golden one, a filmy black one, and a sheer, gauzy silver one. Lacking any jewels of her own, these were the best she could do. A giggle escaped her lips as she tried to imagine just how much the people who'd dress her and do her hair and make-up would transform her and how beautiful she would look. "Lead on," she told Vass Vervein, still beaming beatifically. "I'm ready!" They climbed along the thick silk cords that served as Kalinor's streets, Vass leading the way while she tried to keep her head low so that her overjoyed expression and rapturous eyes didn't betray her. It seemed to take them forever to reach the Gathering Hall, following the circuitous route he chose that led to the back door. Despite her excitement, the way he kept looking over his shoulder and around the vicinity every few seconds made Nissabella more nervous than she wanted to admit. Last year, Selaria had been poisoned by a veil, not a arrow from the dark, but Vass kept acting as though he expected to see assassins in every shadow. At long last, they entered the Gathering Hall through the back door. As Vass opened the door to usher her in, Nissabella couldn't help giggling again and peeping over his shoulder, hoping to catch a glimpse of her dress. She couldn't wait to be beautified and crowned!

[Poison]

„I already gave you a hint as to why you were chosen before“, Vass reminded her as he waited for her to get ready. „You are a skilled dancer, and the owner of the Weft and Warp seems to be quite fond of you.“ He frowned a little as she smiled at him. Vass Vervein wasn’t used to beautiful women less than half his age looking at him like that, and he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to react. Of course Vass usually didn’t smile at anybody.

He left the house first, looking around to make sure that they weren’t being watched, and then he gestured for Nissabella to follow him. They did of course not take the most direct route to the Gathering Hall. Instead he seemed to lead her through half the city first, and he looked over his shoulder every couple of seconds. It was true that Selaria had been poisoned, not shot, but you never knew. Maybe they would try a different method this year.

Once they had reached the Gathering Hall, he opened a tiny door for her and ushered her inside. He took her through a hallway to a small chamber, the same chamber that Selaria had stood in as she accepted the poisoned veil. It looked beautiful. The walls had been decorated with cloth in brilliant jewel tones, and a thick carpet covered the floor. Opalogems filled it with light.

Bowls full of sweets and fruit from the surface stood on a low table made of fine, dark wood, and there was wine as well, as red as blood. There was also a bowl full of bruka, a traditional Symenestra dish. In front of the table was a couch where Nissabella could sit down and relax if she wanted to.

A pair of young Symenestra women were already waiting for her, surrounded by countless boxes that contained clothes, jewelry and different kinds of cosmetics.

The room looked like it belonged to a princess.

Vass Vervein nodded at the women, and then he turned to Nissabella. „I will be waiting outside the door and accompagny you when you are facing the people of Kalinor. There will also be a few other guards to ensure that you are safe. You will not suffer Selaria’s fate.“

With that he left so that Nissabella could get dressed without him watching.

~~~

In the meantime Soraya Orchid made her way to the Gathering Hall, surrounded by her fake guards/friends/moths. She didn’t care who they had chosen as Moth Queen. Whoever it was, she didn’t deserve the position. It was hers, and once she would be standing there, in front of the people of Kalinor, smiling at them, they would forget all about her.

[Nissabella Rose]

Even louder than Nissabella's long, indrawn breath of awe at the array of luxuries in the small backstage chamber in the Gathering Hall, was the sound of her stomach plaintively grumbling at the sight of the bowls of fruit, sweets, and bruka. With the excitement of being chosen as the Moth Queen, she'd given no thought at all to food or drink. As soon as the door closed behind Vass Vervein, she hurried toward the couch, picked up a piece of fruit -- a smooth-skinned nectarine with flesh so soft her fingers bruised it, sending streams of juice running down her wrist -- and bit ravenously into it. She chewed and sucked at it hungrily, while the pair of young Symenestra women scolded her for the mess and wiped at her arm with damp cloths. After she'd eaten her fill of soft, easily digested fruits and bruka, the women ushered her into an even tinier bathing chamber to be scrubbed and washed with warm, sweetly scented water. They ruthlessly combed the tangles from her hair and brushed it until it lay smooth and glossy. Over her protests that she could do it herself, they then rubbed her entire body with cool, tingling lotion. The two women were so efficient that, by the time her first moths arrived, Nissabella was back in the backstage chamber clad in a shift and standing in front of the mirror while the two industrious young women did her makeup. "Nissa! Nissa!" the two young dancers squealed as soon as they saw her. "This is too exciting! You'll be a perfect Moth Queen!" Nissabella laughed, her own excitement rising as she saw the two girls' enthusiasm. Instinctively, she stepped forward toward them and held out her arms to embrace them. Just as she did, though, one of the young women restrained her. "No hugging," the young woman said sternly. "We have too much work to do and not enough time! After you, we'll need to get your moths ready as well, and we have half a bell before you make your big appearance!" So, Nissabella threw a helpless look to her friends and called out a greeting to them instead, while focusing on standing as still as she could to avoid upsetting the intense young women any further. One of them pinned and arranged her hair into an elaborate upswept coif, while the other began covering her face with a layer of pale makeup and then applied powder, eye-shadow, blush, and lip rouge to give Nissabella the appearance of flawless skin, huge bright eyes, thick dark eyelashes, and full, pouting lips. The dancer watched the process in respectful silence, unaccustomed to such subtly applied, flattering makeup. In daily life, she wore no cosmetics at all; onstage, her face was painted in elaborate, exaggerated patterns and colors to complement the production design. She looked…like herself, only older and more beautiful. Meanwhile, Vass brought the rest of her moths to the backstage room, and the young women fluttered over to manage their make-up and hair. In the midst of their toilettes, all of which seemed to take far less time than hers, a weaver from the Weft and Warp came in bearing what must have been their dresses. Nissabella craned her head in intense curiosity, wishing she could see through the heavy cloth wrappings and wondering if he had had a hand in making her dress. "Close your eyes," the pair of young Symenestra women ordered her. Dutifully, Nissabella obeyed, resisting the desire to peek at her dress. She caught her breath as they lowered it over her head, feeling the weight and the silken fabric. There were a few moments of tugging, tightening, and adjusting. A pair of strong hands guided her into a pair of thin, delicate sandals. Faintly, she could hear astonished gasps from her moths and the soft clapping of hands. Finally, the young Symenestra women told her, "You can open your eyes now." Nissabella gazed at herself in the mirror, speechless. The woman that gazed back at her with bewildered eyes wasn't Nissabella of the Rose Web anymore; she was too glorious, too unfamiliar. This woman's hair was swept into an elegant coif atop her head, exposing the lines of her neck and shoulders. Her skin shimmered and her eyes flashed a vivid gold, seeming all the more brilliant because of the cascading lengths of pale golden satin that enrobed her like a true queen. The off-the-shoulder gown fitted tightly at the bodice before dropping into a layered, sweeping skirt that brushed the ground in lustrous, fine-spun folds. Tears came to Nissabella's eyes as she looked in the mirror, blurring the image of the golden Moth Queen that looked back at her. "Oh, Viratas," she whispered at last. "It's perfect." Behind her, her four moths came up carrying the slender tiara of the Moth Queen and set it atop her head. Leaning close to her ear, Aessila Curare whispered teasingly, "Look, no veils." Despite her tears and nervousness, Nissabella laughed. The face in the mirror looked more like hers when she laughed, younger and less glamorous. One of the hardworking young women who had gotten Nissabella and her moths ready now tugged at her bare arm and whispered, "It's time." Nissabella's stomach contracted at the words, though whether in excitement or apprehension, even she couldn't tell. Her moths whispered soothing words of encouragement to her. Feeling her pulse beating rapidly beneath her skin, she took a deep breath, held her head high, and walked through the doors into the Gathering Hall, so that everyone could see her and cheer her on as this year's Moth Queen.

[Poison]

„It’s time“, Vass agreed with the young woman. „Please follow me, Nissabella. The people of Kalinor are waiting for their new Moth Queen.“ He opened the door for her and then stepped aside so that she could go first. „You look beautiful“, he added. Of course he didn’t smile, and he sounded as if he were talking about accounting or something equally boring.

He led her through a long, winding hallway to the front door where she would greet the people of Kalinor. She could see that the walls had been decorated with the countless tapestries that had been made for the weaving contest. The winning tapestry hung in the large hall where the second part of the celebration would take place. It depicted a scene from the Symenestras‘ glorious past, a pair of young lovers in the floating city that had once been their home.

A small wooden sign below the tapestry said that it had been made by the Ivy Web. Nissabella would probably remember that Web. One of its sons, a rather effeminate young man, had been at the audition with her and attracted some attention, both because of his skill and because of the part he had auditioned for.

A pair of Ochya, wearing their exoskeleton armor and cloaks in brilliant red, stood left and right of the front door, guarding it. As Nissabella approached them, they nodded at her and smiled.

Nissabella could hear the people outside talk. They seemed to already been cheering for her before she had revealed herself. Most of Kalinor seemed to have come to see her.

„Are you ready?“ Vass asked her before he opened the door. Hundreds of people stood in front of the gathering hall, but none of them were looking Nissabella’s way. Somebody already stood where she should be standing.

Soraya Orchid turned to Nissabella and smiled.

„It seems as if my newest moth has arrived“, she remarked. „You look beautiful, Nissabella, but don’t you think that dress is a little too much? You are not the queen, you are merely one of her servants. But I'll forgive you. Now come here and help me distribute these gifts.“

She pointed at the baskets full of sweets and toys that were standing around her.

Behind Nissabella Vass, the guards and her moths gasped.

[Nissabella Rose]

Feeling as if she was in a dream, Nissabella gathered her sweeping skirts and walked carefully behind Vass through the long, winding hallway hung with dozens of tapestries that had been entered this year in the weaving contest. Despite her nervousness, the assembled tapestries' rich colours, silken textures, and imaginative designs were enough to capture her attention and take her mind off the silk moths in her stomach. The winner, a masterful depiction of two Symenestra lovers embracing amid a floating city suspended above jungle treetops, actually gave Nissabella pause for an instant as she stopped to admire it. Noting the name of the Web, she wondered briefly if the tapestry had anything to do with the part she'd won in the Cobweb's dance production or its makers with the odd young man from the same Web who had auditioned alongside her for the part. Later, Nissabella would wonder if that pause was what had kept her from being first on the Gathering Hall stage. Finally, she pulled herself away from the tapestry and continued following Vass to the door at the end of the hallway, smiling back sweetly at the two Ochya guarding it. When Vass paused and asked if she was ready, Nissabella couldn't help feeling a curious surge of gratitude toward the taciturn Ochya member. What a dear he is, she thought fondly, worrying about whether I'm ready. Behind that stern face, he's not nearly as dour as people say he is. "I'm ready," she told him, still feeling as if she were dreaming. Upon the stage, though, that dream unexpectedly turned into something like a nightmare. Clad in a white silk dress and flanked by her harried-looking sister and a pair of smitten young men, Soraya Orchid turned toward Nissabella from where she stood at the stage's center. Her smile cut like a dagger, as did the poisonously sweet words she uttered, calling Nissabella one of her moths and ordering her to help distribute the Moth Queen's gifts. For a stunned moment, Nissabella quailed. Looking around frantically, she wondered, Could there have been a mistake? Was Soraya meant to be the Moth Queen, not me? Soraya was, if not popular, at least well-known, and many younger Symenestra admired and feared her for her proud, domineering ways. Her dress was nearly as beautiful as Nissabella's, and it was clear from the look in her eyes that she believed herself to be every inch a queen. Doubt crept into Nissabella's mind. Was it all a mistake? Had Soraya been chosen as the rightful Moth Queen? Should she give way and let Soraya dominate the stage? The gasps of Vass, her moths, and the door guards saved her. They didn't seem to believe there had been any mistake. On second glance, she noticed that Soraya had no official escorts and her moths wore ill-matched dresses and confused expressions. She couldn't possibly have entered the stage from the door Nissabella had used either. Soraya must simply have climbed onto the stage and announced herself the Moth Queen from there. Self-confidence flowed back into Nissabella. Her back straightened and she lifted her chin higher as she addressed Soraya. She reminded herself to be gracious and well-spoken, as the Moth Queen should be. "I'm afraid you're mistaken, Soraya," she shot back, keeping her voice even. "I am the queen this year, though I have no servants, only good friends whom I cherish dearly." She smiled affectionately at her moths, each looking lovely in identical silvery dresses. "Please step out of the way," Nissabella continued, turning back toward Soraya with a steely glint in her golden eyes. "You may be queen of whatever little circle of friends, sisters, and boys you've gathered up, Soraya, but my moths and I were escorted here by the Ochya themselves. My gown came specially from the Weft and Warp, not from my closet. You may have declared yourself the queen, but I am quite sure the people of Kalinor chose me this year to be the Moth Queen." She turned to Vass Vervein and the guards behind her, trying her best to look and sound regal. "Escort Soraya of the Orchid Web and her friends off the stage, please. My friends and I must get to work giving away gifts and raising spirits during the festival." With that, Nissabella strode forward firmly past Soraya, as if she were unworthy of even a minute more of her time. Very deliberately, she turned her back on the would-be queen and took her place on the stage directly in front of her. Unfortunately, this meant that Nissabella was standing right on the edge of the stage, with gift baskets hemming her in on either side. Instinctively, she curled her toes around the edge, letting the minuscule hooks in her feet sink through the thin sandals into the stone beneath, and carried herself easily and gracefully with a trained aerial dancer's unerring balance. Ignoring Soraya, she motioned her moths to gather around her. Then, remembering how previous Moth Queens had behaved, Nissabella raised her hands and began waving and smiling at the crowd gathered before the stage. She turned from side to side, letting her flowing skirts flare out and catch the light, and beamed as widely and brilliantly as she could at the audience. They might have cheered for Soraya at first, but Nissabella was determined to make them notice her and applaud for her. This was her moment of glory, and she wanted to enjoy it as much as she could.

[Poison]

„These are your friends?“ Soraya cast a glance at Nissabella’s moths and laughed. „What a sorry bunch! I’m glad that I don’t have any friends then.“ She cast a glance at the people of Kalinor that had finally begun to realize that something was wrong and made a face. „Distribute the gifts“, she ordered her moths. „Maybe that will distract them until I’ve dealt with this impostor.“ The moths – her dear sister and her admirers – picked up the baskets and started throwing sweets and toys into the crowd – which really distracted them – for a moment.

Of course Soraya completely ignored Nissabella as she pointed out why she was the Moth Queen, but unfortunately ignoring Vass who stepped behind her didn’t work as well.

„Come with me“, he told her. „You don’t want to cause an uproar, do you?“ She only glared at him. As he extended his hand, she hissed, „Don’t you dare. I’m not taking orders from you. Only one child, no wife and a nephew who ran away because he was too soft for Kalinor. You probably secretly dream of petching the rest of the Ochya.“

Vass didn’t particularly seem to care about that accusation. He was above all that, besides it would only make the situation worse. „I’m giving you the opportunity to walk back into the gathering hall rather than being dragged. Will you take that opportunity?“

Soraya didn’t reply, but turned to Nissabella.

„You took my role at Kanasa’s dance. I should have been her new star. You took my man, my Avarys. I won’t let you take my position as Moth Queen as well. I’m supposed to be the queen!“

One of her moths touched her shoulder, and she spun around.

„Isn’t Avarys still single?“ the young man dared to ask. Soraya looked at him as if she wanted to kill him.

„I think we should go …“ another moth suggested shyly. „The crowd is beginning to grow restless. They are questioning you.“

For a moment it seemed as if Soraya had decided to heed her moth’s advice, but then she spun around, stepped towards Nissabella and tried to push her off the stage. One of her moths immediately rushed to her aid while Vass grabbed the struggling Soraya from behind.

There’s a place for you at the Sac“, he informed her.

Turning to Nissabella, he said, „I’m sorry about this here. I hope you can enjoy the remainder of the festival.“

[Nissabella Rose]

When Soraya spun around and gave her rival that sharp shove to push her off the stage, it was all that the stunned Nissabella could do to keep from falling face first into the crowd of spectators. Flailing and windmilling both arms in decidedly ungraceful fashion, she managed to maintain her balance and stay atop the stage. Her frilly skirts rustled and flapped around her legs, making her look more like a frantic moth caught in an errand breeze than the Moth Queen. To Nissabella's infinite relief, her bow-crafting friend dashed forward at just that instant and grabbed her hand, pulling her back from the brink of, if not danger exactly, at least humiliation. "Thank you!" she whispered gratefully to her friend. "No worries," the bow-crafter whispered back, grinning. "If it weren't for these cursedly foofy dresses," gesturing at her filmy, silken skirts, "I would've gotten to you much faster. I was afraid I'd get tangled up or trip over my own feet and go flying over the edge along with you!" Despite herself, Nissabella laughed, long and heartily. The whole situation was so absurd, with Soraya claiming to be the Moth Queen, spitting out all those venomous words, and almost pushing Nissabella off the stage. "Perhaps we should pass the word on to the weavers," she chuckled, "and tell them to make next year's dresses sleeker and more streamlined, so the moths can run around the stage and perform daring heroics!" Her other months heard the comment and giggled amongst themselves. "Don't say too much!" one of the silvery-haired dancers exclaimed in mock protest. "Otherwise you just know next year's costumes will put the moths in armor, with big shields, instead of dresses!" Nissabella laughed again, her spirits rising with gratitude for her friends. Her mood sobered, though, when she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Soraya being grabbed from behind and getting led away by Vass and his subordinates. The disbelief and outrage on Soraya's face was almost painful to behold. For a moment, Nissabella felt a surge of pity for the indignant Symenestra girl, who had gone to so much trouble to be recognized as the Moth Queen and who -- if she was going to be honest with herself -- was certainly attractive and well-known enough to have merited the position herself. That feeling of pity made Nissabella open her mouth and speak up, in spite of the venomous and utterly bizarre accusations Soraya had flung at her -- the color flooded to her pale cheeks as she caught herself thinking, I wish I'd "taken" Avarys Anthurium! -- and her own dislike for Soraya. Even when it went against her own interests, she could never help empathizing with someone else's distress and wanting to put an end to it somehow. She knew well that this irrepressible empathy was going to be the death of her someday, when she gave birth to her own child rather than forcing a surrogate to do it for her. Right now, that empathy might very well cost her the glory of being the Moth Queen. That empathy was part of her nature, though, and Nissabella couldn't stop being herself for the sake of a pretty -- all right, a gorgeous -- gown and a place of honor at the Morning of the Moths celebrations. She put a hand on Vass Vervein's arm and cleared her throat, trying to catch his attention and Soraya's. "This…this need not end like this," she said hesitantly, almost forcing the words out. She cleared her throat again, willing her voice to sound stronger and more confident. "This needn't end with Soraya being taken to the Sac or anything like that. Chemah vo Ranek is supposed to be a joyful time, an occasion for celebration. Let's not mar it with accusations and arrests any further. Can't we…" Nissabella gritted her teeth and went on, "Can't we both be the Moth Queen this year? We'll be able to visit twice as many homes, maybe even raise spirits in Kalinor twice as much. We could both be queens together. "Wouldn't that be a neater and better way to resolve," and here she couldn't keep from narrowing her eyes coldly at Soraya, "this mess, don't you think?"