I've never been to such a thing. I fear the court of my youth may have entertained it, but I was never permitted to attend.

[ Lauralae was always a prized creature, a treasure to keep hidden and trapped away from the world; she was to be raised to be soft and sweet, to be a gift to some lord or noble to win favour. Her own experiences and desires did not matter - is it any wonder that she went to such extremes?

Her own favour is a simple thing, tucked into the breast of her shirt; a small blue handkerchief, threads of gold representing her court. It echoes of home, and it hurts. ]

I shall keep it to my own hands, then. [ She bows her head, eyes closed. ] I've no desire to share such things with another.