[ooc: sorry for the length! the rest will be shorter!]
Tonight was a night dazzled by stars, and clothed like the heavens themselves, Margaery knew that she glittered as brilliantly as any of them.
The inauguration ceremony had seemed to last
forever, at least to the eager young woman standing near the rear of the room. Her diminutive height had been little help when it came to viewing the stately procession of guards and the newest Grand Master of the Mordecai, though the richness of the decoration and fabrics around her had been suitable compensation. And anyways, everyone had been able to see the investiture, raised on a platform as it had been. Even excited by the grandness of everything, she had been more than thrilled when the ceremony drew to its close, leaving the guests to their own pursuits. It had been surprisingly easy to slip free of her mother's claw-like grasp on her arm, as well - all she'd had to do was point out a supposed friend of her mother's, and then she was free, cutting through the crowd toward the ballroom. Though her knowledge of court dances may have been a touch outdated, that seemed the best place for flirtation and fun alike.
She hovered in the entrance to the ballroom, momentarily awed anew by her surroundings and the fashionable nobles that filled them. Not that she was clothed like a mountain peasant, at all; the gown of blue velvet fit her so closely that, despite her lack of busty figure, what curves she had were visible. A deep slit up one leg revealed an expanse of pale white leg, mirrored above the neckline that offered her shoulders and lower back to view. Her mother had nearly had an apoplexy over the design of the dress, and they'd had a frightful row for days, but in the end, she'd won. After all, despite the fact that the dark navy suited her better than any other, she'd known many others would be wearing the same color. If she wanted to attract attention, she'd have to do it
somehow.As she hovered in the doorway, gaze picking through those already gathered, her eyes landed quite suddenly on the young blonde man from the funeral she'd been to a short time ago, where she'd met her cousin Ethalind. He'd never actually given his name -
'Poor manners, more's the pity,' - but she thought that he might remember her. Lifting her chin and taking a deep breath - she would never admit it, but she
was slightly nervous - she stepped from the shelter of the doorway, intending to corner the youth. Really, it was a pity that he was enmeshed in the Church-
All thoughts flew out of her head as someone both very large and very solid smashed into her. Perched upon her high heels, Margaery tottered, one arm flying out to snatch at anything solid enough to steady her. Her fingers snagged in the lapels of the tall - well, taller than her, which admittedly wasn't necessarily saying much - man's coat, and she tightened her grasp, overcompensating so that she half-fell against his chest.
Once she had steadied herself and pulled partially away from the gentleman, she peeped up at the face above. Her own was flushed crimson with both mortification and something like irritation, and she stammered slightly, torn between the urge to apologize, and the overwhelming urge to give him a piece of her mind for not looking where he'd been going. In the end, she settled for a sharp huff of breath.
"I'm sorry," she apologized, her voice somehow maintaining its cool even as her face was stained red.
"You seem to have me at a disadvantage, sir." Well, at least tonight would be memorable.
[ooc: talking to toma, if you weren't sure
@Jounindress ref for self]