The performances wore on like over-steeped tea—bitter, slow, and far too drawn out.
One girl after another rose to their feet to try and show off to any potential husbands… or mothers-in-law. The first girl to arrive in the center of the hall after me didn't stand a chance. She recited a poem about blood and battles, but it was clear that she had never experienced either one. I guess she was trying to marry into a military household or something.
Seriously, it just went downhill from there. Another girl offered a trembling flute piece, her fingers fluttering like they weren't attached to nerves, the song more of a warble than anything recognizable.
One of the younger court ladies attempted a ribbon dance and nearly wrapped herself like a dumpling in her own silks. The poetry recitations were worse. Too long, too sentimental, too desperate for a reaction.
