"Of course, I'll come at once." He stood—then stopped and stared at his tray. "Uh, where—"
"I'll attend it," the woman said. "She needs to see you immediately."
Jankin nodded and headed off, not quite running. What in the world was going on? What could possibly be wrong that he was required to help fix it?
Thankfully, his memory and sense of direction held true, and he made it back to the training hall without any wrong turns. He'd barely entered when a familiar strident, ringing voice called out, "There you are, Master Jankin!"
He bowed as he reached her. "Mistress Dali. I was told you needed me quite urgently."
"Yes, and what a strange twist of fate I had you to call upon," she said. "Do you know the name…" She frowned at a piece of paper clutched in her hand. "Torika Halk—"
"Prince Toryka Halikazen. Yes, of course, it would be hard to grow up in Rittu and not know his name." He wasn't actually a prince, but other countries didn't have an equivalent for the space in society that Halikazen and only a handful of other persons occupied. They were higher than nobility, lower than royalty, a position of honor and power that could only be earned.Esharwas the title, but depending on the country, it was always translated as 'lord/lady' or 'prince/princess'.
Some of the tension eased from her shoulders. "His ship apparently was severely damaged in a storm, and he was forced to stop in Tavamara to make repairs. He has been invited to stay in the palace as a personal guest of His Majesty, and we must put together an array of performances for the banquet tonight. You are Rittuen, so you seemed a perfect choice. You'll be paid appropriately, of course."
"I would be honored to perform."
"Splendid," she said, even more of her tension fading, as though she'd genuinely believed he might refuse.
As if. Perform for Tavamaran royalty and an eshar at the same time? He'd only performed for one other eshar in his life, out of the thirteen that existed, and she'd been a half-blind old woman who probably hadn't even cared. He could not care less about the money; he was salivating for the attention, the fame.
"I have my own dance clothes, including those fit for royal performance, but I don't know if the color or style…"
Dali waved a hand. "The royal seamsters will be here in a couple of hours to get you properly attired, though this is so last minute, they will likely just be adjusting what we already have. For now, that section is yours for practice. A longer dance would be preferred, something in the five minute range, if you can handle that."
"I can handle that." It was on the longer end for a complex solo performance of this type, but he'd certainly danced longer.He wouldn't call himself one of the best in the world if he hadn't. "Let me return to my room for my practice clothes; I'll be right back to get to work. Would you like to approve the dance? I have three in mind."
"Showing me three complex dances would be needlessly exhausting. I've already heard much about you since we last spoke. The Peacock, they call you."
Jankin laughed. "Always preening and showing off, that's definitely me."
"Well, you do have fine feathers. Get your clothes and get to work, Master Jankin. I'll let you know when the seamsters are here."
"Yes, Mistress." He hastened off back to his room, where he fetched his practice clothes and fans, since any dance of this nature would always include props, and he favored the traditional fans most of the time.
He slung the bag holding everything over his shoulder and headed out again, wending carefully through the mazelike palace so he wouldn't get lost. Though he'd already walked it so much today that he was starting to get at least some of the main portions down. If he lingered long enough, he'd have all the public places memorized in no time.
Back in the practice hall, he quickly found the changing area—a simple screened off section, a bit different than most places he'd been, but he had seen it before—and then returned to the spot assigned to him for practice.
As he would be performing that night, he didn't want to overexert himself now, so he stuck primarily to warm-ups and other basics, only running through the most difficult parts of the dance to ensure he could still do them flawlessly. Which, of course, he could.
When he came to a stop, it was once more to a small round of applause. "The seamsters are here, Master Jankin, andwith a few options for you." A woman offered him a towel and cup of water, which he thanked her for profusely.
After that, he followed a trio of seamsters, in their aprons with needles, thread, and more on their person, over to the screened off areas, where piles of fabric awaited.
Surprising no one, they went with a peacock green skirt trimmed in gold and silver and glittering crystal beads, something made for a different dancer at one time that was never used, or was only used once, he wasn't clear on that. He had a fan that would go perfectly with it, and someone would be along to do his hair.
Once all of that had been settled, he returned to his room to bathe so his hair had plenty of time to dry, then asked to be woken before he lay down for a couple of hours, enjoying the breeze and scent of flowers that drifted in through the window.
A servant woke him when requested, and he grabbed his peacock feather fan and headed back to the dance hall to do one last round of light stretches before he dressed in the beautiful skirt and submitted himself for final preparations. His hair was mostly left loose, with a few small braids to add interest, and tiny crystal beads scattered throughout to catch the light. His eyes were painted a shade to match his skirt and further lined in black. Then he was given gold jewelry set with precious stones in blues and greens. He had fine jewels of his own, but nothing like this. "These are beautiful."
"From the royal vault, with permission of His Majesty," the woman who painted his face said. "He was told of your skill and reputation, and wanting to make his guest happy, said we might borrow royal jewels for you for the night."
"I am honored." Which he truly was, because royalty did not share their personal property lightly. At some point these jewels would have belonged to a king, a queen, a prince or princess, or perhaps a concubine. His Majesty had not evenmetJankin, or even seen him, to his knowledge. Lending him jewels for a performance unseen was ridiculously generous. "I will do my best to earn the trust and generosity."
Dali chuckled. "As I said before, your reputation has spread through the palace. Fiercely, like a wildfire. The rumors reached even His Majesty's ears. This visiting prince is a genuine friend of his, as I understand it, so he probably thinks he is giving his friend quite the pleasant surprise." She clapped her hands together briskly, dismissing the others. "One last thing for you, Peacock. Should your performance be as good as I expect, the king will thank you personally. Do you know the custom?"
"I do not. Usually I'm given flowers, delivered to my room later or handed to me by a servant."
