Chapter 11

It was a few days after our late-night discussion, Farsa had allowed me to roam the ship freely and get familiar with the layout of the vessel I am on. At the moment, I am on my way towards the ship's main recreational area for my first two lessons with Farsa.

I put my hand to the double-doors of the main recreation hall, the circle in the center of the two doors rotates clockwise ninety degrees and turns green from blue. The doors slide open with a hiss, revealing a grand room set up with a formal atmosphere. Farsa was standing in the back opposite of me with a glass of a mulled wine in hand, likely an Iridian mulled Tasi grape variety which their wineries are galactically renowned for. She beckons me closer "come, come! We will start your first lesson."

"Now then.." Farsa cooed before she continues on her lecture "the first step to your training is your poise. How do you think you will be perceived as you are now?" she looked at me for my response "I am unsure." she 'ah-has' at that response "that is your problem, Kara! You are unsure of how others view you, and you do not care. -that- is a fatal flaw in Iridian society, you see, perception is reality - and nothing more or less."

I blink, these lessons are going to be complicated and messy, and I was mentally preparing myself for such a tantalizingly long and grueling lesson on poise and diction. "So what is the point of this?" I ask, not shying away from the matter at hand.

Farsa smiles gently "Iridian society is.. Messy. Complex. Even infuriatingly so. I am trying to prepare you for that, and this might even be useful beyond that, Kara." she sighs "first lesson, proper looks.. Your clothing right now is utilitarian - I gathered from your belongings and effects that you are, or were, some sort of gun for hire. You can tell a lot about someone from how they dress." she sips her glass of wine.

I purse my lips, the thought of anyone going through my belongings while I was on ice is, to say the least, infuriating, but I hold that down and focus on the matter at hand. It seems if I am going to survive among Iridians, I'd have to become one. "So, what is the first step?"

Farsa nods at my assent to the lesson "You'll learn to dress to impress. You clearly have the 'dress to kill' part down, we have to expand on that. Any woman has their set of tools. In my case, that is makeup and words. You on the other hand?" she sighs "I have a gift for you, as part of your payment for the task I want you to do. You may find them useful for the task at hand as well." She walked over to a table with a white cloth adorning it, with two metal cases atop. One larger than the other "One is to aid you on walking your journey, the other to help you in your first impressions."

I observe quietly until Farsa beckons me closer "come, come! I can not give these out to the air, can I?" she chuckles. When I approach, she opens the first smaller case. Inside the container, I spy a set of four hairpins, long like daggers, with a single broad extrusion from a flower-shaped end - it has a Sapphire crystal embedded in the flower, which is lustrous and plated in platinum with engravings of vines down the shaft and gilded in gold. I pick one of the hair pieces up. "Hairpieces? What for?" I lift an eyebrow.

Farsa smiles coyly "Perception is reality, my dear. Press the sapphire crystal." I do so, and the shaft has four seamless panels that slide back, revealing a razor-sharp edge that taper to a sharp tip. Hidden daggers.

I muse, impressed. "Interesting." Farsa smiles and notes my expression "I had them crafted in a few days for your use." I set the hairpiece back in its place inside the box, then close it. Farsa smiles and nods to the larger of the two containers "This will help you walk whichever path you choose to take." I open the container, inside, a pair of heeled boots with calf-high height. The platforms were wider than the usual high heels. They had closed toes and a heel height of roughly 3 centimeters, Black material that matches my usual attire, but I was unfamiliar with how to wear them. "Boots? Will it be hard to run in these with the heels?" Farsa smiles at me "I will teach you how to run in them. The way these are made will help you in that regard, but our first step is dance etiquette."

Dance etiquette? I tilt my head at her in confusion "Huh?" I give a tell of confusion on my face, and Farsa chuckles "if you can dance, you can run. Sometimes you must learn to run before you can walk." she smiles "put them on, and we will begin."

***

I fell many times throughout the next few hours. I stumbled, tripped, fell, I hurt. I was tired. Bruised. Sore. My legs hurt from the exercise and seeking a new center of gravity, I used muscles I never used before in my life. "Remember these aches and pains, Kara." Farsa told me "let them remind you that success comes through failing often, what separates you from others is that you get back up and try again." Farsa tended to relate these teachings with life lessons as well.

This routine continued for days on end, until finally… Finally I had made progress many weeks later. It was on this day that it all clicked. It was about finding my center. Finding that little bead of a point in me to have the balance to manage this task which seemed so impossible many weeks before.

That day, I danced, and danced, and danced for what seemed like hours. Farsa watching my every movement. My every Piorette, every single movement of my legs, my arms and my hips. She scrutinized me after my performance, and smiled. "Now we learn Makeup and proper dinner etiquette."

After I learned this first step, we arrived at her personal residence on Eridan IV, a Lush, green planet with a subtropical climate and the homeworld of the Iridians.

Afterwards, she taught me makeup techniques. How to apply it, what amounts were suited to enhance but not cover up my own facial features. "Remember, your makeup is your war paint. It allows you to resist the urge to cry, either for yourself or for others. Because if you do your paint will run off your face. Remember: you can cry only after you take your warpaint off." Farsa remarked. She also taught me how to handle cutlery and how to eat my meals with graceful movement and poise. How to conduct my speech during such affairs, and what to say and what not to say.

We practiced the 'Art of silence' as she called it, the name a rough translation from Iridian dialect. "Remember, your words have more impact with silence being your default. Use your face as a tell, but do not use your words." I was given instruction on how to speak Iridian fluently, to better serve me in Iridian society, among Iridians.

We practiced wine tasting. How to discern different varieties from others, what certain levels of tannins and acidity did to the flavors. What the properties of different llight and full body wines were, and how to discern between the two.

*********

"And now, you show me what you are capable of, Kara." after Months of this routine and instruction,,Farsa had set up a demonstration - to show my capabilities and what I had learned throughout these trials…

As I stepped up to the first Trial, I realized we were going backwards in my training 'what was her purpose for such a setup?' I internally questioned. The first trial: A blind wine tasting. "This is your first trial, but the stakes are raised. One of these glasses of wine has a poison in it that reacts with alcohol to create a distinct taste. It is otherwise colorless and tasteless. Your task is to correctly identify which glass contains the poison.

My heart started to beat faster, these stakes were insanely high! I had no way of knowing which of these glasses contained the poison. So I had to drink until I found it. There were a total of eight glasses, each with a different wine in it. Eight to one odds, not good but not terrible. I picked up the first glass. A Red wine with a medium-light body and low tannins. Hints of Pomegranate at the start and a smooth, sweet strawberry finish as I took a sip. "Frappato. Vintage 3037." I smile "no poison."

Farsa nodded at my judgement "Correct. again." the next glass, A white wine. Nearly bone-white semi-opaque liquid with a slight luminescence to it. Upon a sip, it had the initial taste of a bitter fruit, then a sweet taste, like cane sugar but also not. "3035 House Tarinas vintage. Specifically from the galaxy-famous vineyards on Galisra 3." Farsa smiles at me "Very good, next."

This process repeated for the next few minutes. Until I had come upon two remaining glasses. Both wines from earth. Both were white wines. I seemed to have trouble discerning white wines. Farsa just raised the stakes even more. I picked up the first, smaller glass. If my intuition was correct, this was it. I took a very small sip…