---
title: A Breather
summary: >
  The big night continues and the doubt fills in the spaces between the dances. Would someone notice Galadin's mistakes? Would they call him out in front of all of society?
---

> Doubt is the killer inside the room, the murder weapon that cannot be found. --- *The Troubled Queen* (Act 3, Scene 4)

As the night grew longer, the realization of Galadin's situation began to blur his sense of self identity. Was he a teenage boy in a dress? Or was he really a she wearing the outfit she always wanted? She felt dizzy with the shifting sensations that seemed to bounce from one moment to another.

In the brief respite between each dance brought a number of other men willing to chat. Somehow, he found a way of speaking without revealing his true nature. It was sad that he couldn't admit he was male but just the rush of wearing a dress and having everyone treat him as a woman brought joy to her heart.

However, every time a new man came waltzing up to the table, Galadin was sure they were there to accuse of him being a boy. It twisted in his gut but he managed to keep a smile on his face and speak in a soft voice while looking for the nearest place to run away.

Somehow, their story of Galadin being a country-born daughter masked over the little mistakes that he made. He could feel them but couldn't stop them, much like where to hold his hand when he twirled. However, the rural manors all had their own little idiosyncrasies and no one called him out on those either.

After the ball, it would be a different story. Neither Galadin or his mother were sure he could go to more than one, so they were treating each one like a glass figurine, to be decided at the last minute.

They had also conveniently left Glorias's name off the registry at the ball by sneaking into a side entrance. That would it difficult for anyone to formally request his hand in marriage. Without his father there, an offer couldn't be made and they hoped it would help forestall any embarrassment.

It was exhausting being two people. All Galadin wanted to do was be a beautiful debutante, but the thoughts and fears made it impossible to truly sink into the role of just a cream- and green-dressed girl on the floor.

Galadin's mother reached out and gently took Galadin's hand. She squeezed and smiled at him. Her eyes were shimmering and the smile looked honest, probably the first that Galadin had seen in a long time. "Okay, the next one on your card is Besire Rilar. He's sweet and charming, a bit of a dandy, but everyone knows he has his eyes for Bedame Larkimas who is currently stealing hearts over there." She nodded with her head.

With a nod, Galadin smiled. He knew about Larkimas, she was beautiful and everyone talked about her. From rumors, she already had a dozen offers and her father was almost drowning from whiskey and wines poured into his glass.

"Thank you."

Her mother smiled broadly. "You are doing beautifully."

A handsome man came up. He was broad-shouldered with a square jaw. Gold trim marked his black suit, no doubt to show off his wealth.

A longing filled Galadin. Even though it would never happen, Rilar was close to the fantasies that warmed him at night. He gulped and put on his best smile.

"Tadame Maran da Kasin de Kamer, I believe I have the honor of being the next dance for your daughter."

Galadin panted softly as she rose up.

His mother smiled. "You are, please enjoy."

Rilar took Galadin's hand firmly and drew her away.

Galadin couldn't stop blushing as she followed.