Inara walked down the steps into the liner’s ballroom, and for once didn’t actually feel like the centre of attention. Oh, she was beautiful, she knew that, dressed in dark red velvet, long gloves to her elbows, but it was River, wearing one of her plainest gowns, her glossy dark hair swept up into a low roll at her neck, who had caught everyone’s attention.

The dress, a deep gold, was cut on the bias and hung from thin straps, curving around her slight figure. However, it was the girl inside the dress, the lightest touch of lipstick all that adorned her face, that had all the men watching her, and all the women wondering who she was.

Captain Branscombe stood up from his seat, the other men at the table following, as the pair walked towards him. “My dears, you both look stunning.”

“Thank you,” Inara said, inclining her head a little.

“Please, sit.” He pulled out a chair for her, pushing it in as she sat down.

River, smiling, took the seat next to Inara.

“River, no,” Inara breathed. “You wait until someone holds out your chair for you.”

“Oh.” She stood up again, and Captain Branscombe laughed.

“Please.” He bowed a little as he did the same for her.

“River was allowed to run a little wild,” Inara said. “And I wasn't around to make sure she learned some of the finer graces.”

“I think your sister is refreshing,” the captain said. “So much nicer than a lot of these old fuddy-duddies,” he added in a whisper.

“I do hope you don’t include me in that,” Inara said, laughing gently.

“My dear, I would never call you a fuddy-duddy.” He smiled into his beard. “Now, can I help you to some wine?”

River watched, her eyes wide, as Inara played the table. It wasn’t obvious, even if you were looking, but the older woman knew exactly how to make people feel at ease, as if she was speaking only to them. It was so subtle, just a look or a gesture, and each man felt she was smiling for him, and each woman believed she could be a friend.

It was like magic. Inara was weaving a spel