"This was... unexpected," someone muttered. "Does she do this often?"
"Only when her lover Tainor over at Dawnlight sends her something nice, like that veil she's got," said a woman. "Wish I could have danced like that when I was young..."
Other eyes followed Ezhar as well. Dangerous, narrow dark eyes. The eyes of a predator.
When Ezhar reached her own smallish weyr, it was open and airy. She loved her window and the balcony it afforded, and she was of a wealthy enough Holder family that she did not have to worry about the dirty Hold below... Only the beautiful sky and how her lover thought to give her such beautiful things!
She pulled the shimmering material close to her face, smelling it deeply. It was scented with oranges and musk, and colored brilliantly safron orange with tints of violet waves running through it. At the edges, there were small golden leaves, intricately carved out with veins and flower patterns on them, attached by golden thread. It jingled when she put it over her head in a more traditional veil like way, and her thick black rings of hair contrasted with it beautifully.
Putting the veil on a small peg beside her window, Ezhar hummed to herself and began combing out her hair. It was early spring, well, late winter, and the seasons had turned quickly. It was her seventeenth turn, the summer would see her eighteenth turn day. The beauty of the girl was well known, though it did not quite rival some of the other Ladies in the Hold. She had a more casual approach to her beauty: if she felt happy, she was pretty. If she felt sad, it could only mean she was plain. Her emotions showed so easily on her wide, smooth features, that people often could tell her how she was feeling just by looking. Her grey eyes were a source of admiration among some of the drudges, how exotic with her red-dark skin and her rich black hair.
Her shape was as sensual as they came, as well. With rounded hips and a narrow belly, and full womanly breasts already, she made most men hunger for her. Her dancing habit made more of them fight for her, yet she loved only one man. Tainor was the peak of manhood, a trader who frequented weavers and oil merchants alike, a man who had seen much of the world already.
That world entranced Ezhar. She would listen to his tales of it for hours on end. How he traveled with his runners and the small caravan of merchants... So beautiful the things he brought her.
From Ezhar's window came a breeze, and on it, a bugling of a dragon. The dragontithe flats were a popular place about now... Ezhar's heart fluttered when she thought about dragons, almost as much as it did when Tainor came to visit. How elegant they were, how lovely! And how brave, and strong their riders were!
Ezhar laughed musically and sped down the hall again, after putting on a more subdued dress of lilac and lavender. She carried the veil and then wrapped it about her head and shoulders when the winds picked up again.
The dragon resting on the Flats was a small white, not one of the Protectorate's dragons. Ezhar did not know this breed, it was from a weyr that she knew but could not name right off. The rider of the very rare white dragon was talking with one of the Lower Caverns staff, but there were no supplies being taken from the dragon, so Ezhar knew it was not a transport or tithe dragon.
So what could they be doing here? Today? There was no Thread due for several sevendays, and the Hold was usually protected anyway. Ezhar went nearer the dragon and rider, who were pacing together, and the dragon seemed to be sniffing at the air. Then, he looked directly at Ezhar, though she was hiding behind a tree.
"You!" Called the rider, waving his arm, "you could come here, where we can see you!"
Ezhar looked around and decided they were in fact talking to her. She straightened her dress and her veil and strode out. She wasn't sure what they wanted, but she would try to impress them with her knowledge of the Hold or ... whatever.
"Picketh here says you'd make a good candidate for some very special eggs we have at Istabitha's, girl. What's your name?"
Ezhar's musical voice suddenly failed her. Her eyes widened, and her face transformed from curiosity to utter shock and bewilderment. "M... me? Sir, you can't be serious?" The man nodded. "My name is Ezhar, daughter of Emzhet and Lord Haranab, eldest sister of three..."
"Well, Ezhar, Picketh isn't often wrong. Would you care to introduce me to Lord Haranab and Lady Emzhet, so I might make arrangements?"
Ezhar's confidence came wafting back to her, when she felt the warm dragon's breath, for some reason it comforted her in a way that nothing but Tainor's embrace could...
SEE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT?!