[Airerûthiel]

Once again Neisa was late. She cursed herself as she sneaked into the awards hall, mumbling apologies as she made her way to the nearest empty seat. It was not in her nature to not be punctual, although she ended up not being on time no matter how much she tried. Perhaps it was the fact that she was surrounded by hundreds of people, and they were all celebrating. There was a reason why she never to parties, she reminded herself as she sat down and tried to look as though she was paying attention to the awards ceremony.

Her mother's memory still haunted her. The shrill tones rang in her head, sending shivers down her spine. "Why can't you be more like a lady? Sit up straight, girl! Don't slouch - it's bad for your posture." A white-hot glare at her back, and the swish of skirts and the wagging finger. "Don't you give me that look. Just because your brother doesn't aspire to anything more than a farmer's life and marriage to a peasant girl" - haughty sniff - "doesn't mean you've got to do what he should instead. Tsk! can't you change out of those disgusting trousers for once and put one of your nice dresses on? Those maids slaved for days to make a wardrobe full of gowns for you, and you've never even so much as looked at them. And don't stuff your hands in your pockets and whistle like the stable boy!..."

The shield-maiden gripped the burgundy arms of her chair, her knuckles whitening. She was clearly angry at everything and everyone - at her mother for making her be who she was not, at her father for giving up on life, at her brother for not having the courage to take over from her father, at society for branding her with the 'be perfect' stick because she was female, and at herself for being weak enough to give into these feelings. Her eyes blazed with a ruby fire that disguised a breaking heart as she waited for the next presenter to take to the stage.