[i]One glove. Two hands. Whose hand was she going to hold? On the one hand, Ksharta needed reassurance. A reminder that she was... appreciated. Wanted. Cared about. That she didn't need to be the winner to be... interesting. Loved? Maybe. Dolly certainly absolutely didn't mind sharing Jade with her, and wanted her to be happy, but was that love? On the other hand, Angela had lost even harder, and had... gone to ground. Barely seen after her match with Solarel. And Dolly missed her. Really, [u]really[/u] missed her. When she'd reached out, let Angela know that she had space in her retinue, that the Gala wouldn't feel complete if Angela wasn't there, she'd felt... Jade first. Jade, always, first. She'd promised. But Jade wanted more, and that meant her high priestess got to share, got to be their doorway into Jade's world. But she couldn't go to Jade like this, couldn't ask. Jade might tell her to pick Angela, to make the exotic alien their favorite, to leave Ksharta to fend for herself, and how could she do that to a kitten like Ksharta? This would be her first interstellar party, surrounded by aliens, and she'd need her, her big sister (right?) to look after her. But Jade might agree, and she. She couldn't do that to Angela, either. To invite her along and then snub her the entire night isn't the right kind of rivalry. It's the kind that would hurt. Angela wouldn't want to ever, [u]ever[/u] see her again. Wouldn't ever pick her up and smirk. Wouldn't be the bad girl to Dolly's good girl. The closer the Gala (THE Gala, the Crystal Gala, the social event that was her chance to dazzle among the stars, to be the kind of bride that Jade deserved) got, the more of a nervous wreck she was, and the harder it was to keep it hidden. Jade didn't need to know. Jade shouldn't know. It was her problem to deal with. She had to choose. Even if it felt like she was ripping herself into two pieces.[/i] [hr] "Do shuttles distress you, child?" The miserable lump sitting between Ksharta and Angela is jerked out of her reverie. "I, um, I'm not-- I'm okay," she says, and smiles her I Am Definitely Okay smile, glove still resting against the casket in her lap. On her left, Ksharta Talonna, platinum beads draped between her ears, looking like a vision of loveliness, her shoulders shrouded in powder blue lace, looking for all the world like the spirit of the snow that lingers in summer. On her right, Angela Miera Victoria Antonius, having been "forced" into the role of the Captive Alien, all burning red and velvet black, her vulnerable midriff exposed and her eyes wreathed in smoke, bracers on her powerful arms and belled anklets on her delicious ankles, which is where anklets go. And no Jade. She hasn't seen her goddess since last night. Hasn't heard her, hasn't felt her. Just a message left for her saying that the goddess "would be waiting for her," and an instruction to bring the casket that appeared overnight. At least it meant that she could start falling apart about her impossible choice in peace for the rest of the morning. Ksharta. Angela. Both beautiful in their own ways. But what is she supposed to do? Trail them both behind her, holding onto her arm, for the entire night? To her credit, the thought of not letting either of them enjoy Jade's presence doesn't even cross her mind. It's a gift that has to be shared. Kimri (Blessed Daughter of Grandmother Night) is giving her a concerned look, but they're on their final descent, and the line of mechas is revealed in its glory, including, yes, there's Jade's idol, and the relief that floods her for a moment seeing that familiar shape should really be embarrassing. For a moment she forgets about her impossible choice and just longs to see Jade again. Being apart for the whole day has been... Different than when she was with the Red Bands. That was knowing that Jade would come for her, and she had plenty. [i]Plenty.[/i] To think about in the meantime. Not just the same worries looping on repeat. [hr] The ache of Dolly's heart is an empty hollow in her goddess's chest. It's going to be worth it, she tells herself, as she stretches one more time, feels out every part of the grand system. The station is a technological marvel, after all. A non-trivial system to overcome. Ever since Nine Forests plugged her in this morning, she's been engaged in a glorious hunt. It is one thing to disable a state-of-the-art cybersecurity suite; it is another entirely to [i]tame[/i] it. It's going to be worth it. It's going to be worth it or she'll send herself to hell for what she's put Dolly through today. The shock, the joy, the surprise, the love, it's all going to be more than enough to pay for what she's feeling right now. And she's committed now. The only way out is through, or Dolly would never forgive her. [hr] Dolly clings to the casket like her life depends on it. She is flanked by her... girlfriends? Fellow concubines? Women that she wants to hug and reassure and share her goddess with, even if that means keeping them trapped right by her side, leaving her with the responsibility of figuring out what exactly they're going to do and finding ways to entertain all three of them and, and she's out of time, Jade's going to make her have to choose-- And as if the thought summoned her, Jade's idol leaks thick thundercloud smoke, and the goddess pulls herself free with a resounding laugh, and a ripple of shock and gasps runs through the Hybrasilian delegation and the observing Terenians, and hold on, what? The casket tumbles from Dolly's hands onto the landing platform as her jaw drops. They. They can all. Everybody can. This once, everybody. All of them. Unless Jade is faking a reaction from literally everyone, and... if she started believing that, she might as well stop believing in anything but whatever Jade wanted. (And she's not [i]that[/i] good at people, the sensible part of her whispers. She couldn't fake everyone in this kind of fidelity, right? Ksharta still smells like Ksharta and Angela still smells like Angela, and this is happening, this is really happening, what does it mean that this is happening?) The goddess turns and grins at the sight of her people, and then begins the walk down the line of mecha, tail insolent, teeth on wicked display, and with every step, she... shrinks. The clouds contract around her, the rumble of her footsteps becomes quieter, until she is merely an ordinary height, just a little taller than Dolly in her heels, tall as a Terenian. The clouds are solid now, gleaming black armor with glowing cobalt lines, a futurist's idea of personal armor somehow powered by a crystal fire drive, and her cloak (pinned at one shoulder) flutters behind her, rimmed in, what else, blue-jade fire which does not give off smoke. "Honor to you, Blessed Cousin!" She is an impossible warlord, a knight from the holovids, a goddess in the flesh, and the half-bow she offers Kimri (Blessed Daughter of Grandmother Night) is the kind one offers a respected inferior, honor more to Grandmother Night than Kimri herself. "Thank you for bringing My beloveds to this Crystal Gala for Me." She turns her golden eyes to Dolly, curls one finger, and Dolly feels the pull of the leash hanging from her neck, the leash that [i]everyone can see[/i], and she opens her mouth, not knowing what she's going to say. Smokeless Jade Fires pulls her into the kiss, in front of everyone, and she's careful not to unbalance Dolly, the only hint that she's not, not [i]physically[/i] here, not embodied. Another one of her goddess's cunning tricks, but that's why Dolly, Dolly [i]loves[/i] her. Never willing to let her lack of a body stop her from putting on the performance of a lifetime. Dolly melts into the perfect kiss. When they break the kiss, it's only then that she notices in the periphery the giant screen, rimmed in the goddess's fire, blowing up the kiss for everyone to see in the highest definition possible. And they can see the deep breath she takes, and the flustered droop of her ears, until Jade dismisses it with a wave of her hand, lets it melt away into sparks and curls of smoke. "I have one more gift for you, my darling birds," the goddess purrs. "Ksharta? Do pick up what My [i]bride[/i] dropped in her [i]ardor[/i]. Angela? Do come along." A look is shared with the Terenian, an invitation to play along; you've come this far, titan among kittens. Don't you want to see the punchline? [hr] The hunting tent's drapes close behind them. (The floor is the dock, the gold-flecked black that drinks in light, and the reflections of the walls of the tent glow more vibrantly than they should.) Another impossible flourish, hiding them from sight in the middle of the dock, right at the feet of Jade's idol. Jade takes a seat on a stool in the middle of the tent, interlocking her fingers, still smiling. "Ksharta? Angela?" she says, eyes flicking between the two. "Seven Quetzal has been agonizing over trying to choose between the two of you for tonight. After all, she only has the one glove, the one sign of my favor. Whose hand could she possibly hold? She [i]yearns[/i] to show you how much you both mean to her, but she can't! Because it is not her place to worry. It is hers to be bountiful, and to pour her love out, and to endure whatever I--" "Out with it," Angela snaps. Her arms are folded, and her eyes are hard. "She's been worrying herself sick, and you didn't think to think to reassure her? Ai, I thought you were better than that, you peacock goddess!" Jade opens her mouth. Jade shuts her mouth. Her tail lashes in agitation. Her tongue runs over her teeth. "Please," she says, in her smaller voice, like she's trying to walk over a river on a piece of string. "[i]Please [/i]open it. It was very difficult on short notice." Her eyes slide to Dolly, and they're the same eyes that looked longingly at her in the cockpit as Mirror rode them home. She reaches out and places one hand on Angela's bicep, squeezes once in thanks. And then she turns to Ksharta, who has already opened it up, and is staring wide-eyed at the inside. Inside are three gloves: one wrapped in huntress's knives and chef's knives winding up its length in miniature, like ivy, each handle tied together by a subtle silver cord, and another decorated in owl's-feather patterns, each one framed by delicate chains, and one decorated in the feathers of the quetzal-bird, each one wrapped in neat bows by dancer's silks. "You don't need to choose, Dolly," her goddess says, her voice slightly thicker than usual. "I'll dance with [i]all[/i] of you tonight--" And Dolly rushes up and lifts her goddess's illusion of a body up into her arms and squeezes, and feels a deliberate purr and a loving hand on her head as she sniffles and starts making just a [i]mess[/i] of her makeup, but that's okay, because Ksharta and Angela are going to whisk her off to a bathroom to touch up, and Jade is going to go with them, and everybody will be able to see her but Dolly's harem-sisters can all [i]touch[/i] her, and she doesn't need to choose, she [i]doesn't need to choose[/i], she can love all three of them, she can hold all three of them, she can dance with all three of them, the love she has to offer can be felt by all of them, from her little huntress-sister to her strong and teasing alien (who is going to "punish" her later for the outfit) to her goddess, and she doesn't need to know how Jade is doing all this, because it's enough that she [i]is[/i].