61.

                                    

                                          
content warning: terrible icewing parenting, very non-graphic third-person discussion of poisoning in the past, a murder conspiracy
(yeah i don't even know what to tag some of this stuff guys, but hopefully that's helpful)
Eclipse
I've heard stories about the fancy parties Mom and Dad used to go to when they were young. When everything they touched turned to gold.
The way Mom made it sound, court parties are often less about having fun and more about looking like you are, which seems self-defeating.  Mom would always laugh when I said stuff like that, and tell me I understood court rituals perfectly.
I wonder what she'd say to me now.
Snowflake takes off my necklace, and changes it out for another one. "You look lovely in silver," she says. Even her compliments are curt, businesslike.
"Thanks." I smile at her in the mirror. 
"Events like these are a part of the Princess Alabaster experience," she tells me. "You should be honoured. Just by being around these dragons, your rank is going to go up. This matters more than any of the studying you're doing. It's all about who you know." She violently yanks out my earrings. "No, no, these are far too overdone. You just look desperate," she mutters.
"Try the dangly ones," I say, pointing at the set of diamonds cut to look like snowflakes. 
Snowflake puts them in, and nods in approval. "You're right, that's much better. Now—you remember the taste difference between polar bear and seal? I might let little mistakes like that slide, but these dragonets won't."
I nod.
"Don't drink anything, it's not becoming, and you're far too young for that anyway," she adds. "But take a small sip if you're offered. Compliment the home and the host, and make sure to bow to everyone—they're all going to be above you. Eat all your food, but don't ask for seconds. Even if you're hungry," Snowflake says sternly. "And even if they offer—they'll only do that to gauge if you're rude, so politely decline and say you're full. If they dance, use your little friend as a partner; you're of a similar rank. Higher ranking dragons—"
"Get to ask me to dance, but I don't get to ask them. I know," I say, with all the patience I can muster.
"You know, when I was a dragonet, I barely got invited to events like these until my sixth year. I remember, once, there was a gala thrown by... oh, what was her name, I can't remember–anyway, she had the most beautiful mansion, with patterns carved onto the floor that they changed up every few months, and I danced with Powder–the highest-ranking dragonet in my class–and she told me–oh, never mind." Snowflake rolls her eyes. "You're going to have a wonderful night, Permafrost," she says wistfully. "Maybe you'll meet someone there, and you'll be all set for life. Wouldn't that be nice?"
I take a breath, gritting my teeth.
"Yeah. Maybe."
"I'll wait up for you. Have a good night, okay?" She rests a chilly talon on my shoulder.
***
Snowfox corners me on my way out, lingering in the shadows by the stairs. 
"Well, don't you look all prettied up. I'm guessing Snowflake had her way with you?" The remark doesn't come with quite as much bite to it as usual. She looks really tired.
I laugh a bit. "Um. Yeah. She did."
Snowfox nods, glancing at Leopard and Muskox behind me. "Are you planning on running away tonight, Princess?" she asks me.