Dancing Attendance: the act of serving another with fawning or excessive care Leopold of the Sanguine Horse serves tables in Capitol's most infamous diversion house-which is to say, he lives at home with the family he loves. Family means his pain-artisan mother, twin siblings with homework they haven't finished, a daemon who handles compliance paperwork, an elven toddler who was born the same year he was, and a household full of mixed-species adults who show their love in sometimes unique ways. He carries that love with him outside the walls-pies made by Vanaeit, because he asked; his tables covered by Kriseida and Rebi, that he might have fun-to an apprentice dance with 'musicians' whose noise is joyful, ale that should have been discarded, and a friend who has plans for his time. Then that friend rigs a kissing game to shut Leo in a dark storage bay with a young woman who'd rather be anywhere else. The crowd outside knows exactly what's going to happen. After all, it's Leo. Leo never says no. And he doesn't. Especially when someone asks him to stop. The Sanguine Horse understands things about consent. Things his friends can't yet imagine. But those things, too, Leo carries with him-and he has no intention of laying them down. His mother calls it dancing attendance, and Leo would rather follow than lead. But when his dance partner stumbles, and a piper needs to be paid? Leopold of the Sanguine Horse will do what he must to change the tune.
