Ballroom; the edges
Her eyes were drawn back to the edge of the ballroom floor, irresistibly caught by the flutter of color and movement at the edge of her vision but politely, she dragged herself back with a little effort and a vague look. If Blytech was looking for women that talked, he would have been better served with nearly any of the other Creation women intermingled among Seattle society; Joss did not but rather held herself in silence like one holding back a dam's worth of water.
"Not long," she said, considering it, "But not short, either. Middling," Joss settled upon it, and then looked at him -- he wasn't a man, not yet, but still a boy in a suit that didn't fit him like kid leather. If it were her story, she'd write him as a rajah, she decided, and then realized she was probably being impolite and hurriedly, "You? I've never seen so many people since leaving Musings. You'll have to forgive me if I don't quite know what to do."