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."
"This is similar. He will send one of his concubines to you there on the floor with a cup of wine. Drink it from the concubine's hand, do not try to take the cup. Thank the concubine quietly, then His Majesty loudly. Do not say anything else to the concubine unless it is in reply to something they say. Understand?"
"I understand. Thank you for the guidance, it is deeply appreciated."
She smiled. "It's a pleasure working with you, Master Jankin. Come, I'll walk you to the waiting room."
"Thank you." He followed her out of the practice hall by way of a door he hadn't noticed before, which led to a narrow, dimly lit hallway that spilled into a beautiful green and gold room in a peculiar octagonal shape.
"We call it the octagon, for obvious reasons. I believe back when the palace was still quite small, more manor than palace, this was a space for private performances, if you know what I mean," she said wryly.
"That would rather explain the design, the way benches for viewing could line the wall. I bet there was a dancing pole or something in the center once."
She laughed. "You do know your dancing, every crevice and corner, don't you?"
"I learned pole dancing as part of my training. It's more common across the world than you might think. Rittu has competitions for it, actually."
"That would be fascinating to watch. Anyway, make yourself comfortable. Everyone else will be here soon. You are the fifth and final performance. Shortly before the fourth performance ends, there will be a bell, at which point stand before those doors. From there you'll be escorted to the entrance doors. At the door man's signal, the doors will open and you'll enter. Go to the center of the room, it will be clear and obvious. Once in the center of the floor, bow to His Majesty, and he will signal to begin. You'll be given a moment to get in position and then the music will start.
"At the end of your performance, bow once more, and after that you exit the room, unless the king offers you a drink, andthenyou can exit the room, at which point return to the door. Normally, you'd be free to go on your way from there, but in your case, you'll need to go back to the practice hall so we can return those jewels. It's possible you'll be invited to join them for the rest of the meal, in which case you should return to your room to wash and change, and a servant will escort you back to the banquet hall. That does not typically happen with performers, but you are a special case, as everyone will know when they see those jewels. Best of luck to you."
"Thank you."
Dali left, and Jankin took a seat on one of the many plush benches, by a pitcher of water and several beautiful cups, each made of a different color glass with gold-painted rims.
One by one the other performers trickled in—a trio of what he thought might be actors, likely here to perform some small scene from a popular play or something similar, a juggling troupe, a couple of women with knives who must be performing a duel or something. He vaguely remembered reading that duels and other martial displays were popular in Tavamara. The final person to arrive was a handsome man who also looked like a dancer, larger built than Jankin but graceful and lovely in his movements. He wore dark blue with silver and diamonds, and also carried knives, though they were the dulled ones used by dancers and not the very real ones the women possessed.
"Hello," Jankin said with a smile. "I'm always excited to meet fellow dancers."
Instead of replying, the man only stared at him coldly before pointedly turning away.
Jankin's smile faded, but he only stifled a sigh and focused on his water. Jealous peers were, unfortunately, something he was long used to. He could even understand it, to a point. This man was probably well established, highly skilled and sought after. He'd likely worked extremely hard to reach the point of performing for the king at a royal banquet. Whereas Jankin had shown up and, through mostly chance, gained the same spotandbeen given royal jewels to wear. In this man's eyes, he hadn't earned any of it. He'd just shown up, looked pretty, and gotten lucky.
And certainly it was luck to a point, but he wasgood. The best, in many cases, and always at least one of the best. He wouldn't be here if he was average or even slightly above average. He didn't even have nepotism or anything to lean on. Well, that he was Rittuen and quite famous, but again, he'd become famous by being not just good but amongst the best.
Whatever. If yet another dancer wanted to hate him for stupid reasons, so be it. There were reasons he traveled aloneand would likely always be alone, even if with every passing year, he wished more and more that wasn't true.
He thought again of Ramsey, but they'd chosen to part ways, and he couldn't undo the past. Ramsey was probably long happily settled with someone—or someones—by now, anyway, and Jankin only a distant, hopefully fond, memory.
A bell rang, and everyone else in the room stirred. The jugglers went to the main door, and just seconds later departed. As the doors closed and everything settled again, one of the actors said, "You're the fancy Rittuen dancer everyone has been talking about."
"That is me, yes. My name is Jankin."
"What makes you so special?" the other dancer asked sourly. "Appear out of nowhere, and suddenly you're dancing at the banquet in jewels people would kill for? Ridiculous."
Before Jankin could reply, one of the duelists said, "Surely you of all people should know about him, Raffa. He's that dancer that travels the world, performed for royalty, nobles, everyone. The golds have been oohing and aahing all day that he's finally come to Tavamara. They keep talking about some tournament he won."
