noirant: (temp - mine - pleased)

[personal profile] noirant 2014-09-20 04:42 am (UTC)(link)
It’s no trouble at all, everyone ought to go to a ball at least once.

Balls are planned quite a bit in advance, and everyone spends a great deal of time preparing. The ladies go out for new gowns, the men agonize over which companions to bring along, and everyone fusses far more than makes any sort of sense.

But it’s all worth it when the night comes. Everyone dresses their very best: The hall becomes a riot of color and silk, like a garden of the brightest flowers. There are lights everywhere — lanterns, candles, glass — and great bands full of fiddles and drums.

[ Violin, some distant nagging voice corrects, but he doubts the girl would notice a rampaging hippopotamus as anything amiss, let alone petty slang slipping into his vocabulary. ]

The king — [ He substitutes for ‘lord protector’; most here seem more familiar with a monarchy. ] — And his beloved dance the first song, to open the floor. After that, anyone else may invite a partner out to dance. It always starts quite formal with an allemande, but by the end of the night everyone will be too silly and tired to do anything but gossip or gavotte.

It's nearly as marvelous to watch the pairs as it is to join one yourself; people that you've never glanced at twice before will betray the most amazing grace and skill. And of course, there are those who blunder about like oxen -- but it wouldn't be any fun without them either.

Would you like to go to one, some day?