"No, no, no, absolutely not Jasper! I am not wearing that in a million years." The royal princess sat on her cushioned stool on the foot of the bed while her favorite servant pulled various outfits out of the walk-in closet. The one that the tall man was currently holding was long, white, red and black and looked like it was a overstuffed pillow towards the bottom.

"But Miss Raven, we have already sorted through fifteen different combinations," Jasper protested, his face full of surprise as his hazel eyes shown brightly in the morning sun.

"Well, in that case, move out of my way please." Raven stood up and walked gracefully through the doors to the closet and scanned the hangers. With a smirk she would pick up a black dress decorated with red roses set off with just the right amount of lace at the sleeves. "See how easy, darling," the princess would ask in a joking tone. "Grab my favorite pair of heels would you dear?"

"Why of course, Ray."

With her outfit in hand, Jasper would walk out of the door to gather Vivian, a woman that the girl considered her second mother, Raven would take off her robes having showed earlier and slip into the dress. With a sigh, she would glance in the mirror. As usual her electric blue eyes stared back at her with a intense fierce curiosity. After what seemed like forever, her mind wondering off to what her greatest ally, Nikolas, was doing at the moment, having arrived the day before, Jasper and Vivian would walk through the door. "Oh, Raven," gasped the woman and giving the girl a bear hug, "You look so lovely!"

"Calm yourself woman," interjected Jasper. "We aren't even done yet." Finally being released, Raven would let out a small laugh and grab her favorite necklace off of her dresser, clasping it herself around her neck. Over a period of thirty minutes, Raven would sit still, staring at herself in the mirror while Vivian brushed her hair and Japer applied mascara and a touch of eyeliner, only allowing the girls eyes to stand out more. It was decided that her hair would be left free falling in its natural waves. Standing up and lastly putting on her shoes, the two would escort the girl to the castle entrance where the cars of the arrivals would be pulling up at any moment. Standing on the far side of her parents in the middle, just like Niklas was his parents, she would smile at the young man in greeting before turning back to the bright, warm, sun filled morning and waiting for the first arrival at the top of the steps.

Three precise knocks came from the door, abruptly tearing Niklas from his thoughts. He neatly turned to the door as he responded, letting the knocker know that he was welcome. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing Hauptmann Adam Adlersflügel- "Captain Eagle's Wing."

The man stood at attention, reporting, "Sir, we are required in ten minutes. Are we prepared?"

The soldier's stiff poise and flawless respect gave away his origins- the forty-year-old man had lived to be Niklas's bodyguard since he was born, though he had mostly been in the background for most of his career. His family were somewhat unknown, but had been loyal to the König family for generations, their soldiers alternately becoming generals and bodyguards. Adam was an average man, and was his bodyguard for that reason- he is forgotten easily and can blend in the background, with the temperament of a brick- whether you leave him or alone, or try to kill him, he's cool and chill all throughout.

"Appreciate the warning, Adlers. Yes, I'll be right out."

He finished his preparations- already dressed in his own personal dress. A white button-up collared shirt, black slacks with a red strike down one leg, from top to bottom, a black vest, and an olive-green Weltarmee formal dress jacket, with Hauptscharfuhrer (Master Sergeant) ranking insignias displayed, as well as the Königreich Royal crest- a flag of the nation, being held by the Golden Eagle. Underneath the vest went the leather strips, connecting a small scabbard and holster to sit just under and before his left arm- his own handgun, a H&K P2000SK, and a smaller combat knife, normally standard for the boot-scabbards in infantrymen combat dress.

Both had been cleared by the Aciras monarchy; he didn't know if the other nations were allowed to be armed, but then again, everyone else was civilian- he was the only military royalty that he knew of. He glanced at the stack of manilla folders on his bed, spread out in a half-circle, from where he had sat, studying them. Each one had information about one of the many princes or princesses attending the Aciras gathering. He knew what to expect.

So he fixed his jacket, made sure the leather was unnoticeable and the slight bulge of the handgun nearly imperceptable- nearly, but not quite, he wanted the sharper, smarter, more observant ones to know that he was, in fact, armed- and pulled on the military-grade formal dress gloves, somewhat thin white leather gloves. He was therefore trusted a good bit by Aciras and its monarchy, and likely with a great deal of favor or power. He'd slip his handgun to his bodyguard later, before engaging in any conversation, as per agreement with Aciras.

Checking his fancy-shoes that he didn't have a name for, other than being the Mighty Discomforters, he turned back to Adlers. He strode out the doorway, Adam making way for him and reaching for the doorknob, and the soft clunk of the door closing behind him.

As he strode down the hallways and corridors to the main entrance to the Aciras palace, he contemplated the ever-so-slight signs and tells that the King and Queen had given. He delivered the news that his father, as Chancellor (Or König, among the most formal of settings), was occupied elsewhere (as he usually was), and risked the displeasure of the Aciras government. But they waved it off, content that his father claimed to be coming in a week's time, after the situation had been handled, whatever it may be.

But besides that, he had only been there for a day, and had been in his room during that time, studying his files and only coming out to have a short dinner with the Royal family, prior to the grand day of the royal gathering, introducing himself to the royalty and meeting them in kind.

As a manservant met him partway and escorted him to the entrance, he figured that, all in all, things were well in hand and he was prepared.

Moving to push the door open himself, but being intercepted by Alders and having the door pushed open for him, he took the four steps outside, stopped, and took a deep breath. He turned to the King and Queen of Aciras, flashed a smile and bowed to them, giving them the proper respect. Satisfied that the unusual circumstance had its fill of protocol, he turned to the lawn stretching in front of him.

He turned again only to inspect Princess Raven, as she emerged from the palace. He returned her smile, and mouthed a compliment to her- "You look beautiful"- followed by a hand gesture- index and thumb touching, the rest of his fingers raised up, what was known as good or good job..

Adlers cleared his throat, and Niklas turned towards him, next, who was standing opposite of the Royal family on his flank. He raised his eyebrows at the man, who promptly raised his eyebrows back, a warning glance. His father had made it clear to him, though, in private- Königreich needed the favor, though it would never be admitted to anyone but Niklas.

So he kept his smile up, eager to meet the future of the major nations of the world, and waited for the first people to arrive.

For Amun, the day had started early - the jet-lagged prince had jumped out of bed at four a.m. - and with vigour. He’d been looking forward to this day since he’d first begun preparing for his trip. Sure, he wasn’t too excited about entering a lifelong commitment with a girl he’d never met, but he was an optimist. He chose to look at the bright side, like how absolutely fantastic he planned to look when he got to the Grand Ball.

After a long and relaxing morning of showering, scrubbing, and skyping his sister, he was ready to get started.

Amun had meticulously planned his outfit days before, and had the whole ensemble carefully pressed and laid out. The traditional outfit came in layers: First, a knee-length white linen kilt with a wide red and white sash for a belt, hanging down the front in two layers. Then came the jewellery. His ensemble came with wide gold bands for his forearms (the soft metal could be moulded further for a tight fit) and two filigree bands for his upper arms; one in the shape of a winged scarab, the other a coiled snake. His collar was made in the shape of a red scarab amulet with wide golden wings, spanning almost to his shoulders and balanced with a lotus-shaped metal weight in the back. Then came the most important part: Cosmetics.

Sure, dressing up was fun; but the highlight of every event for Amun was doing his makeup.

Makeup had always been a hobby for Amun. Sitting at his vanity and expertly painting his eyes in the traditional fashion, he could remember all the times he’d done the same before; he’d made a habit of it whenever he was upset. He could be stressed or frustrated, but as soon as he sat in front of that mirror, his only problem was getting his fucking eyeliner even. He found it to be a satisfying artistic outlet, and the side effect of looking damn fine didn’t go unappreciated either.
He painted his eyes with dark black eyeliner, flawlessly extending the corners of his eyes in the traditional fashion, darkening and extending his eyebrows to match. A nearly imperceptible dusting of translucent green eyeshadow gave him a bit of sparkle and some toning, and some general smoothening and contouring gave the rest of his face a sharp, even complexion. He’d perfected the traditional balance of heavy eye makeup and natural evening over the years, and he came away from his work feeling refreshed and confident.

Amun had taken his routine slowly, taking care that everything be perfect. After all, the world’s cameras would be on the attendants of the ball that night. For days entertainment television, tabloid magazines, and radio hosts would be debating the outfits of the attendees, asking, “Who wore it better?” and “How does it compare to the last event?”. And Amun intended to have them all buzzing his name. But before he could don his final garment (a pleated gossamer cloak that was essentially a rectangular shroud held at the waist by a sash) a knock at his door interrupted him.

“Come in,” he called.

The heavy door swung open, revealing a hotel attendant. The man cleared his throat and announced, “You are expected in the banquet hall in five minutes, Prince Ramesses.”

Amun allowed a frown; he hated that name. But, no matter. The attendant didn’t know any better. “Thank you.” He pulled on his cloak and his headdress - a traditional white cloth headdress with a golden headband bearing the cobra goddess Wadjet, curled on the forehead - and made for the door.

It came sooner than expected, but Amun didn’t mind. He was always ready for a party.

-------

It was a short drive to the palace, especially considering that several roads near the palace had been closed for the various royal arrivals. Of course, Amun’s caravan moved a bit slower than most commuters, involving a state-of-the-art armoured limousine and an escort of Egyptian military police. Sure, sometimes all that armour made him feel like everyone was trying to kill him, but he had learned to get used to it. Instead, he aimed his thoughts toward the ball. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t excited, but his anticipation was aimed more toward the party itself than the reason he’d been invited in the first place. He’d cross that bridge when he came to it.

The limousine pulled up into the loop in front of the entrance, where some members of royalty were already waiting. Amun recognized the girl and her family as the royalty of Aciras - his hosts. It took a moment for Amun to recognize the other, a man about his age accompanied by a rather intimidating guard. Luckily, Amun had done his research - mostly on social media and news sources - and recognized the stiff posture to be that of the heir of the Königreich der Welten. Or… So he hoped. He’d find out soon enough.

Amun was a tad crestfallen to find that he was one of the first to arrive, but recovered quickly. Two attendants, also dressed in traditional Egyptian fashion, stepped out of the limousine and opened the door. Amun’s lips curled into a smile as one thought occupied his mind: Showtime.

In a flourish typical of Egyptian royalty, Amun stepped smoothly from the limousine, striding forward with a friendly smile and posture. HIs attendants tailed smoothly behind, both carrying packages. Sweeping through the entrance and climbing the staircase, Amun halted in front of the royal family and gave a wide, sweeping bow.

“A pleasure to meet you, my Lord and Lady,” he greeted the King and Queen respectfully. His english carried an odd accent, somewhere between the several different languages he’d learned simultaneously growing up. However, it had often been called charming. Amun offered a glance and a charming smile to Raven as he rose, adding, “And you as well, Princess.”

A glance to the side was all one attendant needed to step forward and brandish her package. “The Pharaoh sends his regrets that he could not be here today to thank you for your hospitality,” Amun explained, gesturing to the attendant, “He sends his regards and a gift, as a symbol of his gratitude.”

Gifts were a common occurrence in Amun’s culture; the great wealth of the Egyptian Empire had long leant itself to generosity, especially toward allied royalty. Of course, ancient gifts of horses and slaves had evolved to fine perfumes, jewellery, and watches for each of the royal family to enjoy. Still, the sentiment stood.

After a brief exchange with the royal family, Amun turned and leant a bow to Niklas, offering a friendly, “A pleasure as well, Prince Niklas.”

His business done for now, Amun sent the now-emptyhanded attendant to go about her business, and fell in line with the others as the rest of the guests arrived.

“But Liv, you simply must wear a gown! Your mother and father expect it of you!” The maidservant’s voice, quiet but iron hard, came out of the closet.

“I don’t CARE about appearances, Aeli!” the tiny girl said. She was sprawled out on the bed with her eyes closed. A muffled clatter from the closet only caused her to turn her head away from the sound. “No matter what I wear they’ll think that you’re the royal and I’m the maidservant, so why even bother?”

“Because it’s expected of you.” The maid stepped out of the closet, holding lengths of silk draped over each arm. “Because you are an heir to your empire and the Gods need to be able to have faith in you and your people need to have faith in you.” She draped the dresses over the princess, then sat down next to her on the bed. “Come now, are you going to get up and behave yourself or do I need to go call your father? He would be angry to be woken up out of bed just because you were throwing a temper tantrum and refusing to wear a gown.”
“I’ll behave. Don’t drag my father into this.” Liv uncovered herself with the dresses and laid them next to her, then rose to her feet. She glanced at herself in the mirror and looked away, too self-conscious of the differences between herself and Aelia, her best friend and maid-in-waiting.

The taller girl held up two dresses of similar styles, rich jewel-toned fabric with heavy gold embroidery. “Violet or sapphire or white, your choice.”

“Let’s go with white. Violet’s too busy for me, especially with my violet cloak.” Aeli quickly pulled the tunic over Liv’s head. She tied the gold sash at the back and then motioned for Liv to sit down on a chair, as she circled the princess with a black bag full of cosmetics, rather like a lion stalking her prey.

“Aeli, don’t even…”

“Yes, Liv, I’m going to. Have to make a good impression.”

It took the better part of an hour, but Aelia managed to make Liv over to her satisfaction. Light lipstick and blush to bring color into her face; gold eyeshadow, winged liner, and heavy mascara to bring sparkle to her eyes. Her hair was curled, by some magic of irons and maximum-hold curling spray.

“Aeli, I look as fine as I ever will. Go get yourself dressed. You’re here to be married off just as much as I am.”

“My marriage is not one to change the fate of the Empire. I can be a Cinderella, waiting for my Prince—err… Manservant Charming to whisk me away.” But Aelia stopped touching up Liv’s makeup and bustled off into the bathroom, reemerging just a few minutes later looking quite regal, for all she wore a plain white gown with minimal embroidery.

Liv bit back her jealousy. Aelia had always been a looker. Even when they had been children, Aeli had always been prettier. Her lovely tan skin, and gold eyes, and clouds of chocolate brown curls. Much more royal-looking than the freckly, pale princess.

“Liv, it’s about time to go!”

“Right, right.” Liv mumbled, forcing herself out of her thoughts. She cast one last glance in the mirror. Aeli approached with a length of dark purple silk; she draped it over Liv’s hair and wrapped it around her body. It was the prettiest such wrap that Liv owned, rather sheer silk with metallic gold palm fronds printed on it.



The two girls walked down the hotel stairs together, pausing in the lobby to find their limo driver. Liv sighed. Of course there would be pomp. Realistically she knew that it would be unseemly if the Lusitanian princess arrived like a common person would, in a normal car, but all the same…

Father should either go all-out with it, or not do any at all. I understand him not being able to accompany me, his tenth-born, not when he has a whole empire to run, but would it be so hard to send a few Praetorian Guards along so that I would not be presented to the Aciras royalty with only my handmaiden as an escort? Her cheeks faintly flushed in anticipation of the embarrassment, but she kept her head high.

The car ride was rather long, as it seemed that there was an endless procession of cars trying to go past the castle. Nonetheless, as the limousine pulled up, Liv soon realized that she was one of the first ones to arrive.

The limo attendant stepped out and opened the door. Aeli exited and helped Liv to her feet, then let her lead the way through the courtyard.

The short princess held her head high, stretching to her full height. She made notes of all the faces she saw around the dais. The princess of Aciras, and the one who had to be the prince of Egypt, judging from his clothing style, and then… hmm. One extremely military looking fellow… Niklas? Was that the right name?

She knew there was a prince named Niklas, who was a prince of Königreich, a military power. She wouldn’t know what he looked like, though, stubbornly clinging to her people’s traditions and refusing to browse social media and thus get a leg up on the world. Usually she left that to Aelia, who only reported bits that were interesting and of political or intellectual nature, and clearly, the pictures of the other royals were not deemed interesting enough.

As she approached the steps she curtsied, perhaps a little deeper than was required, but respect was always good to show, at a first meeting. Especially because she’d be one of the youngest people here. She was aware of Aelia curtsying deeply, almost touching the ground, behind her.

“Your Majesties, your Highness, it is an honor to meet you. My father and mother, the Emperor and Empress of Lusitania, deeply regret not being here in person; they send their regards.” She thanked all her gods that it had been English that came out of her mouth, not Latin, as tended to happen when she got nervous in social situations. Her English was good; she only had a slight accent that said Latin was her first language, a habit of trilling Rs and putting emphasis on the wrong syllable.

She dared a small smile at Raven, then, when it seemed as though the royals had nothing to say to her, curtsied, little more than a dip, to Niklas, and then to Amun. “Prince Niklas, Prince Amun. It is a pleasure to meet you both.”

She stood off to the side, fairly close to Amun. Aelia stood behind her and to her right a pace, keeping her eyes down and standing in a demure way to try to make her role as servant more obvious. Liv did her best to stand proudly, but it was so damn hard to be proud and powerful when even the shortest people in attendance were six inches taller than her.

To say that it had been a long morning would be an understatement. Hiko had not slept during the flight from his own country to Aciras, and all the activity since their arrival hadn't even given him enough spare time to take a nap. Fortunately for Hiko, he was accustomed to running on very little sleep. His political duties sometimes had him up for days on end and though it drove him mad he couldn't afford to complain. Maybe someday when he had some real power he would be able to simply tell others to do the menial work for him, but being so young he had to prove his worth to his peers and superiors. Even the Emperor's son has no excuse for being lazy. Still, travel always wore him out, but he would have maintain a perfect appearance and manner for the duration of his stay. He was actually looking forward to it, since it was a break from his daily grind. His only duties here were to be civil to the other world powers that would be present--an easy enough task--and associate with whomever it was had been selected to be his future wife, simple enough. He might as well think of it as a vacation.

"Akamatsu-san chūi o haratte kudasai."

"Haruka, for as long as we are in this country I would like you to speak its language, to do otherwise would be rude."

"Gomen-- ah, I am sorry. I only wish you would pay attention, Akamatsu-san." Ueda Haruka was Hiko's personal assistant in all things. He was older than Hiko, about thirty-four, tall, and fairly good looking. He had been a mentor for many years, and had guided young Hiko in all things pertaining to Nihon politics, as well as been a very dear friend. There was no one whom Hiko trusted more, although it was tiresome for him to endure Haruka's borderline motherly nature toward the boy. "Stand up straight or the obi is going to be crooked."

"Ah, Haruka, I don't see why I need a wife to nag me when you do such a fine job of it already." In light of the circumstances, that is, the extreme importance of this grand ball, Haruka had insisted that Hiko be introduced to the aristocrats in traditional garb. Usually such a thing was saved only for very important cultural events back home, and while Hiko had expected he'd have to wear it for his wedding, he certainly hadn't counted on it his very first day in Aciras. It was a pain, really. Even a yukata was a process to put on, let alone formal kimono and hakama. Especially the modern ones, which were designed to be more beautiful than functional. They were heavy, restricted movement, and out of cultural context Hiko was of the opinion that they looked ridiculous. But for Haruka's sake, he tried to stand still as the long pleated skirt was tied into place. When at last it was over, Akamatsu Hiko looked as if he'd stepped out of a historical painting with the rich blacks and golds of the hakama contrasting the metallic white of the kimono and haori. He slipped his feet into a pair of lacquered wooden zori as Haruka pulled a comb from his jacket pocket and pulled it through Hiko's thick black hair.

"Hey! What are you doing!?" Hiko ducked out of the other man's reach, "There's nothing wrong with my hair, honestly."

"It's too long," Haruka tsked his tongue, "You should have it tied back."

"I like it better this way." He ran a hand through his hair, which was getting rather long. A strand of it fell in his eye and he blew it stubbornly away.

"Let me put something in it to at least keep it swept back then," Haruka pleaded, and Hiko nodded his consent. After showing him his final appearance in a mirror, Haruka huffed in satisfaction. "You truly look like the son of the Emperor, Akamatsu-san."

Hiko just grunted, glaring at his other self in the reflection. "Am I going to a costume party, Haruka? Why do you get to wear a regular business suit?"

Haruka lowered the mirror and put a reassuring hand on Hiko's shoulder, having to tilt his head downward a bit. His face took on a look of concern for a moment. "Hiko... you are still young, are you sure you're ready to take on this burden? Marriage is no simple matter. If you--"

"What kind of nonsense are you talking about? Who's too young? Stop treating me like a child," Hiko got a little flustered at this sudden change of conversation. Of course he'd had his own reservations and doubts, but those didn't matter, he had to be logical. He had a duty to perform, after all. "And who gave you permission to speak so informally?" he asked, recovering his composure. Haruka had spoken out of place, although chastising him did little good. Haruka had a habit of speaking his mind to Hiko when no one else was around.

"I am sorry, forgive me." Hiko waved him off and together they prepared to leave.

---

Akamatsu Hiko arrived at the palace by car. A second shuttled his entourage, half a dozen agents inside, each one of them assigned to him as a bodyguard. The world was a peaceful place in this age, but such a gathering of world powers was bound to draw the attention of those who would not wish for it to stay that way, and it was always better to be safe than to be dead. As far as Akamatsu was concerned, he didn't have any enemies in this country, and the security of this palace was not his affair so it was best not to worry too much about it.

Akamatsu exited the vehicle with some difficulty, unaccustomed to his current wardrobe, and he fully intended to change into regular clothes after all the formalities were through with. If this was to be a traditional ball with dancing included, there was no way he'd be able to waltz his way around in this getup.

After climbing the steps to the palace, he greeted the King and Queen personally, and their daughter, with Ueda Haruka at his side and his bodyguards following a respective distance behind them. After bowing respectfully at the waist he said, "My lord and ladies, I am honored that you would welcome your home to myself and my fellow countrymen. My name is Akamatsu Hiko, son of Emperor Akamatsu Aki. And this is my associate, Ueda Haruka." Haruka bowed as well, expressing his gratitude for Aciras' hospitality. Once the pleasantries had been dealt with, Akamatsu allowed himself to be escorted inside where he found several others had already arrived.

One young man in particular stood out to him, who also had worn what seemed to be his country's traditional clothing, and it was so flamboyant and outlandish (even down to his makeup) that Hiko found himself feeling relieved he wasn't the only one to have dressed extravagantly. He felt that if he stood next to this man, he couldn't possibly look as ridiculous as he felt. Although, if he were to be honest with himself, they both probably looked equally silly. Still, he did his best to hold himself proudly, and took a moment to survey the others in the room. Among them was a tall man with a very military look about him; he stood like a soldier and Hiko's sharp eyes detected the hint of a gun holster hidden beneath his jacket. He wondered for a moment if the man was simply another guard, but no, he was too noticeable. Still, he seemed like a man of discipline, and Akamatsu felt an instant respect for him.

The only other person he noticed was a girl, small and frail looking even in her beautiful clothes and hairstyle. He wondered if maybe she was sick, and if she was she must be very strong indeed to attend such a momentous event as this. Size isn't everything, after all, he thought to himself. As he watched, she approached the other two men and introduced herself.

Haruka leaned over to murmur to him. "The one on the left is Niklas Kasimier König of Königreich," he nodded at the uniformed man, "And the other is Amunemhet Ramesses Sipar, prince of Egypt." Ah, Egypt, that would explain his clothing... "And the girl, if I'm not mistaken, is Liviana Decima Traianus of Lusitania." Akamatsu nodded in acknowledgement of this information, logging it away in his mind. His knowledge of the finer details of these countries he was not familiar with, but he had a general grasp of their respective cultures. Following the girl--Liviana's exapmple, he approached them and introduced himself in much the same way as he had done to the King and Queen. "Prince Niklas, Prince Amunemhet, Princess Liviana. I am glad to make your acquaintance."

---

"Jones, you drive like you've been drinking. We don't want them to think we're a nation of drunks." Richard barked to the driver before glancing back to Edwin, who was staring out of the window. He wore the traditional dark green uniform of the Kings Lifeguards, though affixed to his right shoulder was a small shield, divided party per pale with blue and red. In the centre of this shield was a white Wyvern. Any noble who served the military, when in ceremonial dress, had a patch of their families coat of arms stitched to their uniform. Richard's, for example, was a Wyvern on a yellow saltire. The two families, Drakewine and Ashleigh, were closely linked and shared a Wyvern for their heraldry. Indeed, it was only due to the Ashleigh family, the traditional dukes of Mercia, that the House of Drakewine even existed; They were raised to the nobility by the Duke of Mercia and eventually superseded them to become their overlords. The Ashleighs had profited greatly from this in the long run. They had been granted the title 'King of Wales' after the creation of the title by the emperor some 900 years ago. Although the land had passed out of the Empire, the family still held the title. They were given new lands to reimburse them, as many of the lords who had lost land when the British were pushed out received. This caused a lot of problems that are best left to the history books. Whatever the case, this made Richard the King of Wales who had never once set foot on Welsh soil. He was not the only one. Of the some 50 kings under the Emperor of Britannia, at least 7 of them were the kings of lands outside of Britannia.

"Troubled?" Richard asked
"Somewhat." Edwin admitted as he shuffled slowly to turn to Richard, and the captains presence instantly made him straighten up as if at attention. "Wouldn't you be?"
"Yeah, I would." Richard paused for a moment and ran his hand over his blonde hair before continuing "You know I agree with you about this whole thing, but your father wants you to do this. You are a lieutenant in his household guard; It is your duty to obey."
"'Even to my dying breath.' I know." Edwin looked away again, glancing down to his belt and affixing his ceremonial sword to it, checking his 9mm didn't have a round in the chamber before placing it back into its holster. "Do I introduce myself as King of Anatolia or Prince of Britannia?" Edwin asked as the car pulled up outside the castle. Typically, the former was used in court and the latter was used abroad but this was no normal diplomatic visit...
"Try both." Richard grunted as he climbed out, holding the door open for Edwin, who thanked him as he disembarked. Two soldiers got out from the seats in front of them, flanking the pair and escorting them up to the other royals.

As they reached them Richard motioned for the soldiers to stop and drew back behind Edwin's right soldier. Edwin turned to the King first and gave a small bow "Your grace." before running his eyes quickly along the assembled individuals, recognising them all from images; As usual, Richard had made him learn absolutely everything he could about absolutely everyone who was expected to be present.
Raven; This one was apparently well beloved by her people. She seemed very confident in herself from what he had read; Indeed, she made it quite clear that she was capable of caring for herself. Her land was a cultural capital; It radiated culture onto the rest of the world and the world ate it up.
Liviana; Now, she was very intriguing by virtue of being so nearly nonexistent. Little was said about her, little was written about her. Indeed, there seemed to be very little but occasional dismissive speculation about which nobody she would be married off to, then a small buzz when it became known that she had been betrothed and was coming here instead. He could learn who the other royals were, but he could only learn what she was. What he did know was that she was the youngest child and had been very sickly as a child.
Hiko; Apparently, this one was a prodigy. Assisting the president as a youth, a master of many different languages and the son of an emperor; Quite the resume indeed. He would be interested to see how far this one went in life; It was clear by all that he had achieved already that he was not interested in being a figurehead for the rest of his days and being involved in politics already, it was obvious that he was gunning for the top. Yes, he had very interesting read.
Niklas; This one was an experienced and well trained soldier, was loved by his people and had achieved his position on his own merit alone, allegedly. Perhaps; He was suspicious of such claims. Either way, he was certainly quite a figure. He came from a nation with a proud military history and were generally regarded as one of, if not the, foremost military powers in the world.
Amunemhet; The Prince of Egypt. It was a rich land and its Prince loved to spend his riches. He had visited Egypt before, but had not had the luxury of meeting the prince before now and from what he had read that was definitely something of a shame. Amunemhet also clearly had an admiration for tradition, given how he was dressed; That was good, as far as Edwin was concerned.

Evidently, his betrothed had not yet arrived yet. He was definitely alright with that; Anything which put that particular awkward meeting off for even a few seconds more was appreciated right now.
He waited for any other introductions and conversation to die down before stepping forwards and bowing deeply. He then looked at them each in turn "Lords Niklas, Amunemhet and Hiko, Ladies Liviana and Raven. I am elated to have made your acquaintance. I am Edwin, King of Anatolia and Heir to the Crown of Britannia."

Edwin rose slowly and then stepped to the right side and scanned the group as they spoke, remaining quiet and making mental notes about each other them as he continued to observe. He knew for a fact that Richard was doing the same. The coming days would be an excellent opportunity and his father would expect a hell of a lot for Edwin.

Speaking of his father, Edwin quietly thanked god that he had been delayed by several days; He could get this meeting out of the way without the looming figure of the emperor watching over his shoulder...

Meenakshi Banerjee

"Meena~ You better behave yourself while you're in Aciras~" The voice from the phone sang, a teasing lilt in the voice which grated on the girl's nerves. Meena's frown deepened, eyes narrowed as the man on the other side continued. "Appa expects a grand wedding, so you better get along with your hubby-to-be~"

"Lucky," the girl almost growled, the voice silenced, "don't push it. You're a prince, act like one."

"Aw, but siiiiiiii-"

"Goodbye, brother." Meena pulled the phone from her ear, pressing down on the red hang up button. After carefully slipping her phone back into her purse, the girl almost slid down her seat in relief. She was already in her limo, on the way to the Kingdom of Aciras, to meet with the prince and princesses of other Kingdoms, and as her brother put so lightly, her 'hubby-to-be'. Meena cringed, promising to never repeat her brother's words again. It seemed too... juvenile. Meena peered out of the window, sighing as the familiar rolling hills of Aarudhya passed by outside.

She was dressed in her Kingdom's traditional clothes; a long lehenga-dress in a peachy-orange colour. The lehengha was one of her favourite items of clothing that she owned, and what better time to wear it than on the day you're going to be meeting your soon-to-be-fiance for the first time in your life? Her soft hands decorated with henna and small, but beautiful rings placed on her long fingers. The girl was originally wearing heels, but since she was still in the car, she decided it was best to just remain barefooted until it was time to exit - 'might as well make the ride comfortable.. Her make-up was light, just enough to enhance her features. Some simple concealer, mascara and a bit of dark eye shadow to prove her eyes with some depth, along with a light layer of pink lipstick was enough for her.

As Meena played with the ring on her right middle finger, she couldn't help but think about her future - her future husband, a new Kingdom to live in, new people to interact with... The girl felt her heart pound in her chest, fear creeping through her nerves like an unscratchable itch. Meena wondered about her future husband in particular, the main cause of her nervousness. Was he the carefree type? Is he even someone Meena would be compatible with? What if she didn't like him - hell, what if he didn't like her?

A text interupted the girl's thoughts, Meena peering down at her phone in surprise.

To: Lakshya Banerjee

Are you there yet?

To: Lakshya Banerjee

If you ignore me, I'll keep texting you!

To: Lakshya Banerjee

Are you there yet?????????????

The girl sighed, her phone put on silent yet the constant vibration grating on her nerves.

This was going to be a long ride.

---

Just over two hours later, the princess finally reached the palace. Her limousine drove around the loop, slowing down until the car stopped, right in front of the palace courtyard. While waiting for the driver to open the door for her, the girl quickly slipped her heels back on. Meena did her best to look presentable, with what limited mirrors she had inside the car before the driver had finally opened the door.

Waiting just a beat, the princess exited the car - dramatically, some might say. Meena slowly stood out of the car, taking a moment to inhale deeply. 'Time to introduce myself... The princess thought to herself, the same nervousness from before coiling up in her stomach again as she began heading towards the stairs, a bodyguard following behind her.

Meena climbed the stairs carefully, her hands pulling the lengha ever so slightly above so she wouldn't trip over the ends of her dress. After reaching the top, the girl clasped her hands together, in a traditional greeting, before greeting the King and Queen first. With her head ever so slightly bowed, she began introducing herself to the royalty before her. "It is an honour to meet you, your Majesty and your Highness." The girl began, "My name is Meenakshi Banerjee, second daughter of King Rumesh Banerjee, the King of Aarudhya." Finally looking over at the children of the various kingdoms, she gave them a smile in greeting.

She approached them, similar to how she had approached the King and Queen of Aciras, and greeted them with her clasped hands again. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you all."

The only thing worse than waking up in the morning in a piss poor mood was to wake hungover, still mildly intoxicated. Just as Prince Zhou was finding out first hand. The fact of how unusually hard the hotel bed was didn't help.

"Sir, please." a hand pushed the lump of body sprawled on to the bed, "Sir! You must get up now!"
"Shut up Liu..." the prince moaned through his pillow at his servant
"Sir! Today is an important day, I beg of you, please get up!" Liu attempted to pull off blankets that did not budge as Zhou muttered out something like a mix of curses and an dismissal of what Liu was saying, maybe comparing Liu's mother to a hamster in the process.

Liu gave up and just walked around the grand room, wondering what to do. This wasn't the first time Liu had to drag the prince back to the land living, but Zhou had apparently decided to shackle himself the other world with chains of whiskey, wine and whatever the hell koumiss was. He had to admit, the thought of simply smack Zhou awake with a solid length of fish like he used to do but remembered that they were not living as 54i pirates anymore.

"You know what?" Liu dropped his professional butler mask and walked over to the nearest potted plant (which happened contain bamboo that Liu had brought for this expressed purpose) and broke off a good piece and held it like a mobster with a bat, "Fuck this."

With a mighty whack, Liu smacked Zhou with then length of hard plant, immediately causing him to howl in pain and shoot up, grabbing the bamboo stick. However, neither one of them had the strength or grip to out match the other, resulting in a very intense staring contest that involved some flexing of muscles; one could even see veins coming to surface on their faces as well. The two's epic battle was intense (for a staring contest) as they shot daggers from their eyes with a thousand mile stares, attempting to break each other's spirit by looking into each others souls (not that Zhou or Liu actually knew how to do that sort of thing).

"Hey! You guys dressed yet or are you fooling around again?" a voice danced past a door being knocked on by none other than Zhou's cousin/half-sister, Mai, (Zhou didn't actually know what she was to be honest, his father never provided him with a good explanation).

"We're doing stuff!" both Zhou and Liu shouted as they suddenly broke form and Zhou dashed about to quickly get ready less Mai decided to barge in.

As Zhou broke speed records in the bathroom to make himself look presentable and brush his teeth, Liu was going at the same speed preparing his master's cloths; a set dark blue robes with heavy, but delicate gold embroidery of dragons and the heavens. A traditional set no doubt, but it had been recommend by his father to wear to show off some "national pride" or some stuff like that. Once again going at break neck speeds, Zhou slipped into his clothes and nearly kicked down the door on his way out.



"See you at the ball or whatever Rosie!", Zhou shouted as he dashed down the hall, ignoring all the rules of how to use "proper noble movement" as Mai would say or whatever. Along with Liu who had been following him (and returned to a very professional butler), Zhou dashed to the car where Liu opened the door and climbed in himself before signalling the driver to start the engine. Zhou didn't worry about Mai too much, there was a reason why there where multiple cars he thought.

---

---

"Here we are sir." Liu bowed as he opened the door for Zhou to step out, both of them having done some freshening up to mask the fact they were just running like madmen through a hotel.

Zhou imdiately took note of his surroundings, feeling more than a little out of place. Everyone around him was of or related somehow to royalty; Zhou could guess where some of the people came from based on their dress or how they looked, but was pretty much clueless outside of that. The number of bodyguards was also staggering, Are they really this paranoid? Zhou wondered as he turned to Liu, "Oi, we're still protected like them right?"

"Thank you for reminding me sir," Liu suddenly snapped to attention and went back into the car, pulling out a suitcase and opening it, showing off a beautifully ornate straight dagger and a Liang military-issue smoke grenade, just in case he needed to make a speedy escape or be stealthy. But Zhou shifted his view around the suitcase as if something was missing.

"Where's my gun?" Zhou nabbed the suitcase from his servant (after taking and pocketing its existing contents) and shook it around.

"Mistress Mai told me specificall not to grant you access to firearms, much less your own personal model." Liu gracefully took back the suitcase.

"Then how am I supposed to defend myself?"

"Sir, there's armed guards all over the place, you have a "herd immunity" from all the other bodyguards and I still have my own handgun. Unless you're getting scared since your martial arts has become so shit my lord." Liu snarked.

Zhou seriously wanted to punch Liu right about now and almost did, he had bested Liu multiple times over when he was younger; the only time he lost was when he had been hit by a very solid trout. But, Mai's voice whispered into his ear from the wind, "Don't pimp slap people in public, its un-princely", something like that more or less.

Resigning himself to take Liu's snark, he began to mount the stairs, trying to keep his head up and focused forward but couldn't help looking at all the other people. To think that he'd go from see shirtless criminals with huge muscles and scantly clad prostitutes to all these finely dressed men and women was a sort of "culture shock" to say the least.

Briskly strolling to greet the king and queen as well as their child, Zhou put on his best "royal" attitude and bowed before them in the traditional Liang style and greeted them in with a heavy, but understandable Chinese accent, "Greetings your majesties, I am Prince Zhou Mei of Liang, Grand Admiral of the Imperial fleet and minster of uhh.. trans-national imperial diplomatic political affairs of Liang. Pleasure to meet you in person."

Zhou patted himself on the back; he lost track of his though process half way through his sentence but managed to (hopefully) BS his way to victory! Ironhand would be proud of him! Mai... ehh... she'll live through it, ain't like she was there to bother Zhou about it. Now that the formalities was done, Zhou wanted to go an- oh. Of course. Zhou smacked himself in the face for forgetting that this was for his engagement to some random chick halfway around the world. He should probably meet her at some point... if he actually remembered what she looked like.

The gears in his head whizzed about as his face grew into a grin as he came up with a plan. Sending Liu to return with a bottle of vodka, Zhou found a large wooden ladle, wrapped it with a bit of paper napkins and poured some of the vodka on to it before setting it ablaze, immediately catching the attention of some nearby people. However, this wasn't enough for Zhou nor the finale part of his plan; taking a swig of the bottle, he blew out a vodka mist into the torch held in the air, causing a fireball to bloom forth.

That should help his bride-in-waiting to identify him, or at the every least attract some company to chat with.

Hours before the opening of Aciras palace, more precisely at four a.m., before the sun had risen, Karma was getting ready for his daily routine. Granted, how much of his routine could be followed was in question due to the change in location, but those were trivial concerns. Right now, there was something more urgent that needed checking on. Well, the urgency really was in question here; she always needed checking up on in the mornings, but it wasn't as though he could actually do anything about it. No, that would be someone else's job soon. Karma only hoped whoever it was, was up for it.

The tall young man walked upstairs to the room directly above his and sighed. Typical, he thought. The door was closed, but the light that shone from underneath the doors left no doubt as to what awaited him behind it. Without so much as a knock, Karma shoved the thick double doors open and announced, "Oi princess, isn't it a bit early for you to be up?"

He looked down on the only person in the large luxury room. She was seated on the floor, surrounded by newspaper clippings pinned to the walls, documents hanging from the ceiling, and reports arranged neatly in piles on the floor around her. Her long blonde hair flowed down her bare back and down to the floor, like a golden waterfall flowing into a river. It made for a strange yet attractive diorama, the kind that would be painted by surreal arts masters; a picturesque young lady surrounded by an endless amount of paper and photo's, looking through all of them as if a goddess considering the pleas of her patrons.

This young goddess was his half-sister, his master, his ward and his mission: Delia Anne Oblitus-Veren, first daughter and crown princess of the Verenoblitus Empire.

Yet none of those labels mattered Karma presently. He had other concerns right now. "And really, you ought do something about your habit of sleeping in the buff. What if it wasn't me but someone else that barged in here?"

"The only person with the audacity to enter my room with out so much as announcing their presence is you, fool, as anyone else know I'd have them whipped for the transgression," the princess replied without so much as looking up at her visitor, still parsing through her files.

"Oh? What about me then? Don't I get a whipping?"

"Whipping is meant to be a punishment; you'd most likely enjoy it, so that renders the action useless. Honestly, the only way to punish a combat sadomasochist like you is to marry you off to some wallflower woman. That way you can't hurt her, and there's no way she would hurt you. The lack of intensity be absolute torture for you."

Delia said so much with absolute certainty that Karma narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his charge. "That's an oddly specific and unusual punishment you've thought of. I'm thinking you didn't come up with that on your own."

By way of reply, Delia smirked and handed him a file next to her. At the forefront of the file was labeled 'Liviana Decima Traianus'. Karma looked incredulously at her before receiving the file and browsing through it. The longer he read, the more his eyes narrowed, until they were practically slits. Karma closed the folder with a snap, his mouth slightly open in disbelief, but no sound came out.

His hands dropped with a sigh and he shot a glare at Delia. "Your mother is an absolute witch, you know that right?"

"Actually, it was your mother that suggested the arrangement."

"Sonovabitch," muttered Karma disbelievingly. His mother chose this girl? No, in the first place, arranging any kind of vow with him was a waste of effort. Everyone in the royal court of Verenoblitus knew that he only answered to three people: The Emperor, Delia, and himself. Wife or whatever, if they were not one of the three mentioned then he was not beholden to any promises or contracts made involving himself. "What about you then? Who's the unlucky bastard who got the witch's daughter for a bride?"

"I thought we established that it was your mother that arranged your marriage?"

"Yes we did; but it still doesn't make your mother any less of a conniving witch. So, your betrothed?"

Already accustomed to his regular, frankly disrespectful, attitude, Delia didn't bother to reply to Karma's slights against her mother. It wasn't as though the woman herself would actually be affected by such base comments. She might have even been flattered by them.

"Actually, you know my betrothed quite well already. You have contingency files for him in the Bingo Books." Seeing Karma's raised brow, Delia finally looked at him and said, "Prince Zhou Mei Xianshi."

Karma's eyes lit with understanding. "Ah, the prodigal prince, and the pirate playing navy commander. Yeah, we've had him in the Bingo Books for awhile. First as a terrorist, and now as a potential ally. Looks like your mother's decided to go full swing for the latter, if she's arranged this. So, is he to your liking?"

"I won't know until I actually meet him. You know as well as I do the discrepancies between written reports and the real thing. Still, going by the reports at least, I can only say I'll be having a trying time with him." Delia made a slightly sour face as she spoke. Still, her tone was simply tired and not at all as displeased as she made herself out to be. She was more displeased by thought of Karma having it easier than her, rather than the thought of marrying some random stranger. "I'm sure that you'll have an easier time with your bride."

"Easy, yes, but also dull. Boring. Have you even read the file you just gave me? The girl is intelligent, but that intelligence is wasted on her cripplingly weak self-image. The Lusitanian royal house doesn't even make much of a secret of how worthless she is to them. Her whole arrangement with me is based solely on the fact that they want someone else to be her problem. She's basically a throwaway princess. Leftovers. So exactly what exactly is so good about that?"

"Most men would have loved to have a submissive woman as their bride." In an lackadaisical manner, Delia promptly disregarded most of what Karma had just said to focus on that one point.

"Do I look like I'm interested in having any kind of woman right now?" Karma was sure that Delia was aware of exactly just how much he had on his plate right now as her personal guardian and the captain of her royal guard. He sure as hell didn't have time to address the needs of some wallflower third-place trophy-wife.

From the sly glint in Delia's eyes, however, it was clear that she decided to spin his words in another direction. "Why Karma! It's taken years for you to do so but I'm glad you've finally come to terms with your homosexuality. Congratulations on coming out. Shall I inform your mother that the engagement is of on account of your interest in men? Shall I break out the champagne?"

"Keep talking Prissy and I swear I'll -"

Whatever Karma was going to do went unknown, as a tablet next to Delia began beeping loudly. The alarm went on for nearly two seconds before Delia promptly silenced it with a swipe of the screen. "Four-thirty. Time for me to get some sleep. Now if you would please step out of the room?

Silenced looking peeved, Karma consented to stepping outside of the room. Rising to her feet, Delia stretched her stiff legs and crawled to her bed, ready to wake up again in a few hours to prepare for her visit to the palace of what was possibly the worlds cultural center, all so that she could meet he who would be her future husband. Well, if anything else, it should prove interesting.

---

The royal family of Verenoblitus made its way to the palace after much fanfare. It was a given that the visiting of royalty would always stir a large amount of excitment, especially when there were so many of them. In total, they brought four vehicles to the palace; two were for members of the royal guard accompanying them, while the last two were for the Empress and Thirn, and for Delia and Karma, respectively. The eight present royal guardsmen shuffled out of there cars in a disciplined march, and stood in attention as their monarchs made way.

Soon, the representatives of the noble house of Verenoblitus crossed the entrance of the palace. The Empress was dressed in an elaborate red gown, with high collars formed around the shoulders and extended sleeves that slimmed around her waist. She wore very little in way of jewelry, but what she did have on was eye-catching; a large, cornflower-blue sapphire embedded in a silver band ringed around her ring finger, and her earrings were solid gold, with diamonds cut into it just so that even the barest hint of light reflected on it made it sparkle. The Empress hair was done up in a simple braid, with a decorative net of gold stretched along the length of it.

Then there was Delia. In comparison to her mother, she was dressed in a more simple, though still high quality, dark-orange dress. The shoulders were cut and exposed the milky white skin underneath while the rest was covered up with detachable sleeves. A good portion of her back was also exposed, though it was covered up long, wavy blonde hair. Like her mother, she wore very little jewelry - in fact, she only wore one piece of jewelry, but it was the kind that could not be ignored. A wide gold and silver necklace entwined together to form the petals of a blooming rose at its center. Along the way, small diamonds were studded across the piece, culminating at the center were the rose was. There, at the center of rose, was a large, pink diamond, as large as walnut. This was one of the most precious jewels of Verenbolitus, and its appearance was synonymous with the royal family itself; in other words, it was one of the Empire's crown jewels.

Walking behind the impressive mother-daughter duo was the less-impressive but certainly-more-intimidating, mother-son pair of Thirn and Karma. The two were dressed in austere, navy-blue military uniforms, with no additional decorations asides military distinctions. Still, it was not as though the two needed to look good. With Thirn's scarred face and Karma's disarming smile, it would be impossible for them to be anything but 'intimidating'.

The Empress walked forward, and stopped just past the entrance. Making a small bow to the people already inside. She turned to Delia, who took that as her cue to speak.

"Greetings, your majesties. I am Delia Anne Oblitus-Veren of the Verenoblitus Empire. It's an honor to have been invited to your palace. Allow me to do the honor of introducing my sovereign mother, Empress Aliena Oblitus-Veren, and our General Chief-of-Staff, Thirn Kennen."

The Empress gave a small bow and Thirn saluted in response. Meanwhile, Karma was waiting for his turn to be introduced. While waiting, he spotted a certain Chinese Naval Officer doing a rather impressive impression of a dragon. Judging from the shocked silence Delia had fallen into, he guessed that she had most likely seen it as well. Then the moment passed and Delia regained her bearings - but it was clear that she was going to have a discussion about this soon. Which mostly meant her ranting semi-rationally. Mostly to him.

"And this is Karma Kennen."

Karma waited for a description of his title, his importance to the royal family, his contributions to the military, but after a few minutes of silence, Delia glared at him. The glare meant 'why aren't you bowing' and suddenly Karma realized that he just got handed the short end of the stick again. Suppressing a sigh - it really wouldn't do to sigh in front of foreign royalty - he dipped into a low bow.

Delia continued, satisfied. Oh she was aware that Karma would try his hand at revenge later, but for now, this was her victory. "As for my father, I'm afraid that he had urgent matters to attend to, and so was unable to participate. He sends his apologies."

Of course, to anyone who was updated with the news, it was due to a number of skirmishes into smaller countries that the Emperor was occupied. Military advisers predicted the campaign to end in at least two years.

With her greetings finished, Delia turned to look at Zhou - well, more like stare at him with a mix of curiosity and puzzled irritation. Why would you even do something like that, she all but screamed with her eyes. Engaged though they were, Delia wasn't going to let him lord over her. A compromise, she could manage, and if it so came down to that, the first thing she was going to request was he stop acting like a clown!

Meanwhile, a Karma spied a small, freckled figure in the crowd. It was an unremarkable face, but Karma was never one to forget his targets - and his betrothed most certainly counted as a target. A high-priority one at that. Karma stared unblinkingly at her, taking in ever inch of detail and every movement she made, cataloging it and comparing it to past experiences, to people that shied away in a similar fashion and how they acted, and tried to see if being royalty made her any more different than those ants.

Henry sighed as he sat at a red light on his way to the castle. Thoughts of his father and his sister rushed through his mind. He'd just said goodbye to her as his father had taken her away, whispering something to her. The prince's usually upbeat face suddenly looked rather serious and pained, an expression he wouldn't show to anyone, not even a stranger.

His father, from the time he'd known him, was probably telling the poor girl that she needed to start taking lessons from the nanny. Something about it all bothered him. He knew what his father wanted and the way his father was and just knew that Rosa was simply a tool for his father to use at his digression, just like Henry was. However, Henry didn't plan on letting his father do that to her. He'd ascend the throne and then give Rosa the freedom she deserved.

The freedom he wasn't granted.

He rolled his eyes in irritation and sighed again, jumping when a loud horn sounded behind him. Noticing the light had turned red, Henry lifted a hand in apology to the couple in the car behind him. Minutes later, he was pulling up to the castle of the royal family of Aciras. He stepped out of the red corvette wearing a black suit and tie and smiled brightly at those there to greet him. With a warm smile, he jingled his keys for the servants, signaling them to take his keys and park his car.

"I appreciate it. Feel free to take it for a spin if you'd like. I'll take responsibility." He told them, winking as he made his ways to the entrance. Entering the castle, he turned to the owners and made a quick bow.

"Greetings." He spoke softly, just loud enough to be heard but soft enough to make people strain to listen. With a chuckle, as if to suggest they had an inside joke, Henry turned to Raven and greeted her as well. The rest he greeted by name, smiling and bowing politely. He would say their first name, smile, and bow and then move to the next. Eventually, he settled himself at the nearest food and began looking around for a nibble.

_Lucas:
How's it going?

He felt the vibrations of his phone and opened it up to see a text from one of his friends, Lucas.

_Henry:
I just arrived, so I can't really say. Many pretty ladies, however.

_Lucas:
How pretty is... pretty?

For the next few minutes, Henry spent his time smiling at his phone, tapping away.

Niklas watched the princes, princesses, and other important royalty- such as the Empress- introduce themselves, always coming straight to the Aciras royalty. He had no doubt of their pleasure; they watched the modern world bow to them, rulers of Aciras and with the first world bowing to them. The only ones that didn't were the ones that didn't come.

He certainly enjoyed it every time a prince or princess turned to him, greeting him, as well.

As the Prince Amun, of Egypt, greeted Niklas, he bowed in return, in a more Egyptian fashion- bowing was not part of formality in Königreich, so he was going out of his way to meet this prince on his own ground. He greeted him as he'd be greeted by an equal in his homeland, smiling, even as a surge of irritation coursed through him.

"On my father's behalf, greetings to you, Prince of Egypt. I look forward to a discussion about the wonders of your society; I've heard much, but never visited. You look as regal as Ra himself," he complimented, referring to the Egyptian God of the Sun. If he studied it correctly, he was comparing the prince to the godliest of gods, in his culture. He continued smiling, as warm and welcoming as possible.

Innocent enough, he was- but he had just offered a gift to the Aciras royal family, and had already earned... brownie points, so to speak. It also made everyone else that didn't bring a gift seem a little more disrespectful than if they had, like Amun. It may not have been intentional, but someone behind the scenes had figured that out. He'd have to work on something to give to them to counter it.

Next was the Princess of Lusitania- "Liv," the intelligent but self-conscious, startling normal, if short, princess. She was, what, the tenth? He silently marveled at her parents- they certainly had some amount of... enthusiasm. She was the tenth child- he was an only one. What difference there was be.

He was silently pleased as she turned towards him, first, to greet, rather than Amun. Again, as she gave him a little curtesy- the difference between the one to the Aciras nobility and to him and Amun was significant- he bowed back to her, a little stiffer, a little more in line with what he knew to be the Praetorians. She came from a tried-and-true military nation; he didn't entirely approve of their expansion, of course, since they seemed to think offense is the best defense.

"Greetings, Columba. I hope your trip from Lusitania was a safe and comfortable one." He forced- and didn't need to really force it, really- his smile to be more charming as he caught her blush, but she recovered from it quickly.

"What did you just call me...?" she replied, rather timidly and quiet. It was almost... no, it was cute. He had read up on her; intelligent, but rather introverted by nature.

"You know exactly what I called you, Columba. I look forward to learning about those Gods of yours. I've heard many an interesting story, but not from a believer. If you wouldn't mind, of course." He gave her another smile as she drifted away, to join the rest of the royalty.

And then another prince. He silently marked him off the list of attendees, as he had with the other two, as the man approached and greeted/was greeted by the Aciras nobility. Raven must feel so special, being one of the first to for the world's future to acknowledge. But then again, there were her parents hovering right there, so maybe not.

Then he was smiling as Prince Akamatsu Hiko greeted them. Again, pleased that he was the first to be mentioned, greeted, and he bowed in kind, synchronizing himself with the Prince, so they bowed at the same time. He watched, very carefully, to bow at exactly the same height- apparently, bowing lower was more respectful, bowing less was... less so. But then again, the man hadn't even heard of them- the fact that his aid needed to whisper him and the other prince and princess's identities in his ear gave how much he ranked them in priority.

"Greetings to you as well, Prince Akamatsu. And..." He gave a beaming smile. "Impressive outfit. I don't think I could last half as long as you have already. I'd take a pack of rocks any day."

And then Akamatsu was out of the way, making way for the next one.

He, again, smiled warmly as Edwin finished his introduction to their collective hosts, and approached the small crowd of princes and princesses. Again, he was one of the first to speak up, right after they bowed to each other. Again, he synced to the man, bowing just as deeply and regarding him with friendliness.

"King already? A bit faster than the rest of us, but I suppose we have time in our lives to catch up. Elated to be acquainted, Prince-King Edwin."

And then he joined the crowd too. It was a little odd, to be in a group of people that had the same sort of standing as oneself, when all there was was just... him. It comforted him and made him feel less lonely- something he was surprised to feel, but figured it must stem from the fact that no one was his equal where he was from. At the same time, it put him on edge- these could all be friends, but they're all rivals at the same time. Weary, politics are.

And then there was the notably more bubbly Princess Meena. He liked the look of her; she looked like someone who'd make a room feel brighter. He bowed his head slightly, as she had, and greeted her warmly, again. At this point, his cheeks were hurting a little.

"A pleasure for me as well, Princess Meena! And an absolutely lovely dress- we don't quite have anything to match what we have in Königreich der Welten." He leaned a little closer, slightly so, and lowered his voice slightly, as if sharing a bit of a secret. "Everyone's much stiffer up there. I'll need to loosen them all up after seeing all this beauty and regality." He smiled warmly, again, and winked at her, before withdrawing to his former position.

And then there was The Pirate.

His smile drooped considerably; anyone watching him could easily note how his face froze, as if suddenly faced with a horror that he must keep up appearances for. And indeed, it was; it was against everything he's known. The Pirate. Lawless, some mutt that used to rob and hunt, somehow brought up into royalty. He doubted the stories, how he was some basket baby or some bull. No, this was a man to fear, but not because he was part of the "51 Immortals." Rather, because he didn't know how he managed to become part of the nobility; the man wasn't physically impressive, wasn't actually trained. The Pirate could probably show him at thing or two, but he was the opposite of the Pirate; he was a Soldier. The only reason he was part of the "51I" was because the so-called Immortals never neared Königreich; their navy would wipe them out of the water before they even realized what happened. Submarines and Jäger-class Destroyers took care of any unlawful ships there could be. No one could match Königreich's military technology.

Either way, the man completely ignored the princes and princesses, in favor of...

He actually groaned slightly; the man started running about, sending his aid to go get something.

And he tensed, as he saw the man come back with alcohol- something that is flammable. And there was the Pirate, holding a stick- no, a makeshift torch.

Which he promptly soaked and lit of fire, and then decided to imitate a dragon.

His hand was halfway to his handgun, before he realized that the fool was just trying to show off, not try to light the world's future leaders on fire, and cause... an incident. Königreich would not react well to news of their Prince being burned alive, with a half dozen others, by the fake royal fool.

He straightened himself, pointedly ignoring the Pirate.

And then there was Delia and Karma, with their more immediately important counterparts. But again, they didn't seem so interested in introducing themselves to the crowd of Futures; instead, Delia gave the Pirate that look- and he realized that she was betrothed to her. He allowed a moment of pity to flicker; then he took note of her bodyguard. After a brief moment's mental searching, he figured his target; his betrothed, Liv.

He took a step to the side, blocking off his piercing gaze from Liv; a quick glance told him that he was, in fact, staring at her.

He smiled, though there was an edge to it, this time. A subtle warning, if he could notice it- he knew that Liv had some problems, and he didn't particularly like it when someone made others uncomfortable, and an intense gaze like that would make even him uncomfortable. She was smaller, weaker, so to speak, and he felt a certain protectiveness for the Columba.

"Greetings, Karma Kennen. You'll have to show me what you know, in some sparring, later, if you'd allow me. I wouldn't mind it, if you won't. Though I understand if your..." He paused a moment, making a point for searching for the word. "...duties require you elsewhere. I'm sure Delia appreciates your companionship. I certainly would've, if I had it. I've heard good things."

He gave a final smile, before stepping to the side again, out of the way. He turned, just briefly, to glance at Liv; he gave her a nod, friendly and a little understanding. At the very least, he wanted her to know that she had someone on her side. Karma reminded him too much of a wolf.

And then the rather subdued Prince Henry. He responded in kind, though he would've guessed the Prince's mind was elsewhere. He was certainly less articulate than the others. Just a single hello, really. It was awfully... informal. And then he stood away from everyone else... and texted. He texted, in the middle of a gathering of the world's most important children. The informality and normal-ness of it was both relieving and a little insulting. Had it been from even an upperclassman, he wouldn't have thought as much of it, but he was here, representing an entire kingdom of people. There was a certain weight to actions, a certain expectation.

And there would still be more to greet.

Shortly after Amun arrived in the ballroom, things started to become a little hectic. A veritable multi-national procession pulled up to the entrance in near-perfect synchronization, bringing with it the future of most of the world’s leadership. For the first time, he was struck by the idea that should some terrorist group want to organize an attack, this would be the perfect time. Of course, he didn’t allow the thought to worry him; he knew perfectly well that his hosts had the matter under control.

He was definitely impressed by Prince Niklas, the first to return his greeting. Amun took a near-immediate liking to the Prince; he’d clearly made an effort to be welcoming. Whether or not he was being sincere mattered little to Amun at the moment, while he returned the Prince’s warm grin, eyes bright.

“I am honoured and impressed, Prince Niklas. My brother sends his blessings, as do I. The Pharaoh has been an admirer of your country for quite some time,” Amun replied honestly. He leaned in, as if he were sharing some inside joke. “He often looks to your country as an example in military affairs.” Amun found himself grateful that his brother had kept him up several nights researching the various figureheads he saw assembling. “As well,” he added, “I would be flattered to speak to you about Egypt, if you’d teach me about your culture.” Even better, he was telling the truth. He’d talk anyone’s ear off about Egypt, and happily at that.

Soon a rather frail thing, arriving just after himself, caught Amun’s attention. He nearly mistook the girl for an attendant; luckily, her dress and posture stood starkly in the favour of her position as royalty. He felt a pang of something between fraternal concern and pity at the sight of her. The princess (Liviana of Lusitania, as he remembered from his research) carried herself almost painfully proper, as if she had something to prove. Pairing that with what he’d read (the dejected tenth child of a busy empire) Amun found himself wondering if she felt as insecure as her posture subtly suggested.

Of course, he would not embarrass her by displaying his concerns. Carrying himself with confidence, he approached the princess and bowed again, taking her hand in his and touching its back to his forehead; an old, but respectful greeting. In his culture it was used by royal men toward royal anyone, but he hadn’t thought that many of the princes here would take kindly to the gesture. Toward women, however, he knew that many cultures shared similar greetings. “Charmed, Princess Liviana. I believe our two nations have had numerous dealings over the centuries.” He offered with a nod, “A beautiful culture, yours. Ours has learned much from it over time.”

The next to catch his eye strode in wearing traditional dress comparable to Amun’s own clothing and introduced himself as Akumatsu Hiko. He looked less than comfortable in his clothes, something that, while Amun couldn’t really identify with, he could understand. Sauntering up and offering a more stiff bow - closer to that given by the prince himself - Amun summoned a sly grin.
“And here I thought I’d be the most dazzling one here,” he joked - an attempt to ease Hiko’s nerves. “In all seriousness, excellent work. I commend your tailor,” a good-natured laugh escaped him, and he struggled to regain some seriousness. “An honour to meet you, Prince Akumatsu.”

Next in line was Edwin of Britannia, who greeted all present rather curtly and rattled off a list of titles about a mile too long; as if Prince Amunemhet Ramesses Sipar of Egypt were one to talk. He seemed rather preoccupied and… Worried? Amun couldn’t tell. He chose to leave well enough alone, for now.

At this point, Amun was rather enjoying himself. He had always loved gatherings, and as the crowd began to grow, he relaxed further. As long as he could remember, he’d adored the thrum of a crowd, and even one as nervous and unsure as a room full of unfamiliar royals. He drew disproportionate joy from each greeting as they came, every one without fail referring to him as Prince Amunemhet. Now, technically they were all addressing him wrong: The culturally proper greeting would have been to use his middle, or crown name, Ramesses. It was a rather recent etiquette, having come from his own dynasty. Many fathers, sons and brothers in his dynasty shared first names (he, his brother and his father all shared Amunemhet, for example) and using the middle names as identifiers had become a matter of respect. His father was called Tuthmose, his brother Menes, and he, Ramesses. However, Amun had always preferred the nickname, and would not be correcting any of the royals who greeted him as such.

Now that newcomers were being essentially bombarded with greetings, Amun allowed himself to sink into the party a bit, finding himself some champagne and waiting for things to calm a bit before overwhelming the new arrivals. However, in the middle of sharing a laugh with his attendant (who also happened to be a childhood friend named Tuyat) one particular guest caught his - and likely, everyone’s - eye.

The sight of her made his laughter fade as he became distracted, not particularly by her beauty (although of that, there was no question) but by how utterly different she was from the other arrivals. She was a welcome burst of brightness, gleaming in her dress and jewels. Her hands and arms were adorned with delicate patterns (something he especially admired, seeing that Egyptians shared a cultural love of henna) and she walked with a careful purpose, cordially introducing herself to the attendees. However, Amun didn’t need her introduction to recognize her; he’d seen her image and her name more than any others. She was Meenakshi Banerjee, Princess of Arudhya.

She also happened to be his future wife.

Without looking, Amun handed his glass off to Tuyat, who donned a smug grin and made herself scarce. He strode forward, gut trembling as if someone had released a throng of locusts inside it. Oddly enough, he was nervous; meeting one’s fiancée for the first time tended to do that. He approached with a delicate step, waiting patiently for Niklas to say his pleasantries and move on.

Half-awestruck, half-eager, he moved to stand before her and bowed low. Much like he had with Liviana, he took Meenakshi’s hand in his; however, instead of touching it to his forehead, he gently kissed its back. Rising again, he cleared his throat and did his best to wipe the uncertainty from his face.

“Princess Meenakshi,” he croaked, quickly recovering with a chuckle and a self-deprecating smile, “It is a privilege to meet you, you look… You’re a vision.” He allowed himself to exhale, visibly calmer. Still, he held eye contact with the Princess. “I am Prince Amunemhet - call me Amun. I believe we’re engaged to be married."

He overheard Amunemhets introduction to Niklas and spoke as soon as the pair had finished "I would be interested in joining said conversations, if you would have me. I would love to learn more about both your homelands; They have always fascinated me." Edwin gave both of them a small smile "In fact, I must say, I had the pleasure of visiting Egypt before. From what I learnt while there, your nation has always been well ahead of its time, Amunemhet."

Edwin had recognised who Karma was after he had been introduced and noted the lack of reverence he had received from his sister. "It is good to put a face to the name. I have read much about you and your mother; Your service to your nation is unsurpassed." He said with a small smile; From what he had read, he had respect for this man... Although his actions here implied he wasn't used to this sort of situation. The manner in which Karma eyed up his bride to be gave that one away. Poor girl.

His attention was drawn away by a sudden blast of fire just a few meters from him.

Edwin placed his hand onto his holster and was about to unbutton it before noticing that it was not a bomb or anything of the sort; It was in fact Zhou performing an old circus trick. He relaxed slightly and took his hand away from his weapon with a quiet chuckle.
As soon as Zhou started to 'breath' fire, the two soldiers reached for their weapons. Richard held up his hand and shook his head, glancing back to them and whispering sharply "Keep them holstered." Edwin had to admit that Zhou's display had shocked him, though he also found it very impressive. He understood how it worked, of course, but he had not seen anyone do it in over a decade. Everything had looked so much bigger and more impressive as a child...
He couldn't help but glance back himself, before turning his attention forwards again and noting the expression on Niklas face; It was quite evident that the man was not impressed with Zhou's display and he could not half blame him. It was something more expected of a circus performer than a prince, after all. Indeed, it appeared that Niklas has initially had the same reaction as he and reached for his weapon. To be expected, really; A part of him was surprised that nobody had mistaken it for an attack and tackled the prince to the floor, certainly a number of the bodyguards looked like they were ready to. Some of the most important royalty in the world were here, nobody wanted to take any chances.

He turned his attention towards Meenakshi as she introduced herself
"It is our pleasure to meet you as well, Princess Meenakshi. I would very much like to talk with you if we have the time in the coming days; Aarudhya has always been fascinating- though I hear the rebels still linger? It must be worrisome for you, knowing a civil war could start if your family puts a foot wrong. Our nations have long since been trading partners; Please remind your father that should he ever require our aid, Britannia is more than willing to give it." Edwin relayed with a concerned look on his face. There had always been some fear in court that Aarudhya would see its current family ousted from the throne again, causing a nightmarish situation for trade just like last time. For a nation that had turned its self into a trading empire, this was of massive concern. He noticed Amunemhet approaching and, understanding he would like to introduce himself to his betrothed, backed away with a short "Goodbye." And retreated back towards Richard, turning his attention to the scene again. Richard approached and whispered into his ear again
"I saw your movements when the Prince began his little fire breathing escapade; Keep yourself calm. We aren't expecting any trouble. Your father just sent a message; The matter he has to deal with is smaller than expected; He'll be arriving within a few days, he'll want to speak with you as soon as he arrives... I suspect you know what he'll ask of you."
"Of course." Edwin nodded
"Zhou is an interesting one, isn't he?"
"The Pirate Prince; Interesting and perhaps dangerous. He certainly enjoys showing off however; I cant fault him for that." Edwin paused for a moment before he continued whispering "What about Liviana?"
"She appears to lack confidence from the way she's standing; If you can, talk to her at some point. See if you can learn more about her and the girl with her too; That one is the daughter of the Senates President. I hadn't recognised her at first; I might speak with her myself later if I can. I have a few questions for her." Richard had the same tone in his voice that it always took when he was thinking up something cunning. Edwin couldn't help but wonder what he was planning there. "You evidently want to get better acquainted with Niklas and Amunemhet. A wise move. Fostering good relations with them will be beneficial to you once you take the throne."
"Indeed. I'll speak to Raven when I get the chance as well. I hear many good things about her, she'll be a great ruler one day."

---

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"I cannot believe the audacity of these people. Such an antiquated tradition that even I cannot abide it, especially not for you," The Grand Czarina spat as she looked at the letter gripped in her hands. The flourished calligraphy, the golden ink, the words. The words burned into her heart. How dare they want to marry her gran daughter off to someone she had never even laid eyes on. Hadn't she been through enough? Screw tradition.

"Grandmother, it is fine. I will attend," Elizaveta said in a cool voice as she reached over and took the parchment from her grandmothers grasp, nearly ripping the paper as she pulled it away.

"Never, you are not some cow to be traded at fair. This is the modern times. They are more lost in the past than I ever was," her grandmother countered quickly, taking the letter back and tossing it into the oystershell trimmed fireplace.

"Grandmother, I do not see it that way. Our people need a Czar, they need to see me furthering the line. This is my chance to let the world see that we are not what we used to be. It is a chance to take a step forward and move past the legacy my father left behind. Let me make amends for his insanity. Let me heal our people," Elizaveta said in a reasoned tone as she stood up and walked over to her grandmother.

In truth Elizaveta did not like the idea anymore than her grandmother did. She did not wish to wed to strengthen country ties or to birth a child but she was the last of her line. Her father had done great evils when the psychosis set it, it nearly ripped the country in two. It had taken her grandmother nearly twenty years to get the economy stable once again after her parents were put to death for their crimes against humanity. Many feared that Elizaveta would succumb to the same insanity that took her father, none more than Elizaveta herself.

Yet, the young Grand Duchess took her role as the future Czarina seriously, her people loved her since she had been allowed to finally be around them. She worked hard and was undaunting in her tasks. This was a chance in her eyes to make the final mending to the wounds caused by her family. If she could wed, produce an heir, give them a Czar... Perhaps finally the few who still stood against the crown would be silenced. It was a last chance as she saw it, she would find no ruler where she was in the castle. She needed to be presented to the world at one point. What better time than the present.

"You do realize that you may have no choice in the matter? What if you do not like him, much less love. What if he is cruel? There are so many things that could go wrong," Alexandria said, trying to reason with her granddaughter.

"I do, but there is always hope," Elizaveta countered. The Grand Czarina sighed and gave a quick nod. Elizaveta smiled brightly and hugged her grandmother before she quickly made her way through the castle to her personal suite. She had much to do and she was nervous, even scared underneath it all, but she was determined to make the most of the situation.

---

---

The day had finally arrived and Elizaveta found herself much more nervous than she had expected. Three months with so many other royals, one of which she was to wed by the end of her stay there. It was the first time she had been out of her country and she found the landscape marvelous as she looked out of the backseat window. As they pulled out she let out a long breath to steady her nerves.

The door was opened for her by her personal escort and body guard, Sergi. Stepping out, her ebony heels clicked against the ground, her golden anklet glistening in the sun. She rose, her body adorned in silken ebony dress pants and a frilly matching top. Her hair was loose and her accessories minimal. She carried herself like a young Audry Hepburn, bird like and elegant.

Seeing those waiting on her she grasped her clutch in her hand and stepped over towards them. These were her hosts and she was going to try to make a good impression, though she was sure that many already had their preconceived notions of her family. Stepping up to them she curtsied, lowering her head in respect to them before she rose and spoke.

"Greetings your majesties. I am Elizaveta Romanova. It is truly a pleasure to make each of your acquaintances and I look forward to being a guest here in your fine country," she said respectfully with a soft smile playing on her lips. Turning she smiled at the princess and in turn curtsied to her as well.

"Princess, you look truly transcendent today, I do hope we become good friends while I am here," she said as she looked at Raven. Sergi standing behind her held out a small pillow with something hidden beneath a velvet cloth. Turning Elizaveta pulled the velvet away to reveal one of the artistic gems her country was known for, a Faberge Egg.

"The Grand Czarina would sadly not attend this event, and sends her gratitude for allowing me to come alone," she said as she picked up the egg carefully and presented it to the hosting royal family. "A small token from our nation to yours."

Once the formalities had been attended and the egg was carefully taken away she bid them her thanks once again before making her way to where the rest of those that arrived were mingling. Sergi stayed close to her and Elizaveta looked around at each of them in turn, wondering which one she would be betrothed to. Clutching her purse in her fingers she bit her bottom lip softly; not knowing if she sould go introduce herself yet or not.

She decided to take her time, they had three months to get to know each other and she was sure that at least some where as nervous as she was, even if they were not showing it. Finding a place to rest down, she seated herself, brushing a few loose strands of hair from her features and continued to watch as Sergi came up and stood behind her. She smiled softly as she watched, it was surely to be an interesting next three months.

Judging by the tone and volume of her voice the queen of Viracian had been trying to wake her daughter up for quite a while, however, it wasn't until now Amberlyn awoke with a slight groan rolling over under her powder-blue duvet, looking at the door, or she would be if her eyes were open.

"Amberlyn Manera!" Her mother shouted from the other side of the door. "You better open this door right now young lady!" That was when Amber remembered what today was. Another measly brick in her parent's wall of peace and the empire's expansion whilst being another step closer to controlling what seemed to be every important decision, no, scratch that, every decision in their daughter's life.

With a groan Amberlyn rolls over yet again to her prior position, pulling a large feather pillow over her head. She heard footsteps becoming softer and softer before returning. Soon enough the door swung open and the hurricane that was her mother came thundering into the room. She stormed over to Amberlyn's bed threw away the covers and pulled the pillow on top and the pillow under Amberlyn's head tossing them on the blood red carpet.

"Get up, get changed, get cleaned." Her mother instructs, hanging the dress that was slung over her arm and slipped onto a hanger on the wooden chair in Amberlyn's room before exiting as quickly as she entered followed by the enterance of Teresa. Teresa was the queen's maid but she was often pushed into getting Amberlyn to do a bidding she was opposed to as Teresa was strict and had no mercy for the teenage rebel. At this point Amberlyn had not yet left the bed, leave Teresa more time to yell at her to do as her mother said.
Finally Amberlyn grudgingly made her way to the mirror to inspect her dress.

"I have to wear this?" Amberlyn mutters inspecting the dress with a sigh. Not that she's admit it but it wasn't as flashy as she expected it to be, until it reached the top part at least where it erupted into a shimmering silver fabric the sleeves, of the silver fabric, covering her shoulders. The rest of the dress was a light turquiose the looked long enough to sweep the floor. That part didn't surprise Amberlyn either. The people of Viracien were quite modest in their clothing. It was generally frown upon for a male or child to be showing any leg above their knee and for any women, once they have reached adulthood, to show any leg above 3 quarters down the leg or their shoulders.


Teresa always seemed to have a way of making Amberlyn do want she want, eventually. Amberlyn, however, wasn't sure if it was her mother's strict hand-maiden or just that she was yet to fully awake therefore unwilling to pick a fight that she, after sometime, was in the dress. Most of the princes and princesses and emporer's children, she knew, would most likely be in traditional clothing, Amberlyn hoped she wasn't the only one who wasn't.

Viracien was not usually a long drive from Acrias, only about an hour, when the traffic isn't.... and when the car doesn't brake down. Both of which had happened on the car trip. Luckily her parents allowed time to arrive early if the trip went as planned, but their setback lead to Amberlyn arriving late enough for the royals to be deep in conversation.

Amberlyn and her parents arrived at the enterance where stood Raven, the princess of Aciras. The trio bowed slightly as Amberlyn's father greeted the the princess as they rose.

"Miss Raven," her father starts, "My you have grown since the last I saw you. How do you do?" Amberlyn glanced at her mother, whom looked at Raven's dress obviously trying not to look at it disapprovingly, this kingdom was to be the family's host for some time, no point in angering the princess on the first day. Amberlyn strayed from her parents whom, after a short conversation with Raven proceeded to converse with the present kings, queens, emperors and even servants who had arrived with the princes and princesses. Looking across the room many dashing young men and beautiful young ladies talked together, it would make Amberlyn slightly uneasy to squeeze into a converaation with people who seemed to have already got to know each other. She then scanned the room to see a tall black haired man smiling to himself, looking down at his phone. Her mother had confiscated her and gave it to her father to put in his pocket, oh how she wished Lily would ring while everyone gathered for their meal and the sound of hard rock to flow out from where her parents sat. Amberlyn walked over to the young man.

So we're all about to be married off to somebody, used as pawns in peace and expansion of our parents empires, what's got you so amused?" She asks. Admittedly that was not the best way to make friends but Amberlyn was never great at that anyway, however, she needed answers, maybe one of the other royals knew her betrothed is, or was her betrothed was.

---

---

There weren't a lot of things that Cara truly appreciated in the world but her bed definitely topped the list. Leave her alone and she'd probably hibernate. For that reason, it was quite a surprise when her handmaiden, a brown-haired girl by the name of Shona, found her speedily typing away on a laptop she managed to procure. "Just what exactly are you doing?" A South Dublin girl, you'd think the servant was the Princess.

"Watching porn." Cara answered with a yawn, her eyes constantly glued to the screen as her typing speed was sacrificed to raise a hand to her mouth.

The maiden seemed a little shocked by this, her eyes snapping open wide as she took a defensive step back. "What do you mean...?"

"To be specific, there's this cute little asian chick currently gett-" Her long description was suddenly ceased after being pelted by a barrage of bed clothes. Rolling her eyes a little, she chucked them aside and continued typing. In the meantime, Shona had took a few moments to look around the room and kick her brain into gear. Newspaper articles, pictures and long texts adorned the wall like a massive spiderweb eloquently weaved by someone who clearly didn't have anything better to do. A bottle of premium Noslainian vodka lay abandoned, three-quarters full.

"Cara... What is the meaning of this?" Her voice was already beginning to quiver in anger or confusion, Cara couldn't tell. Shona wasn't bad but she longed for everything to go smoothly and life really wasn't about smooth transitions.

"Meaning of what? Life? Porn? Don't know. If it's the vodka, well that's down to a very potent mixture of power, lust and a little bit of stupidity; AKA I acquired it from the bar downstairs. I kinda thought to myself - if my mantra is to die young, why not extend it to my liver? As for... that, I had research to do." Shona looked a little dumbstruck before she simply shook her head and moved to open the curtains.

"You needed your sleep, you look like a trainwreck, and the vodka definitely did not help it." The young servant pronounced bitterly, a dark frown rolling in as she turned to watch Cara recoil from the harsh morning light. "You are going to meet your future husband today for God's sake, you could at least try to look appealing. I know you have the whole, 'don't touch me or I'll stab your eyes out' approach to people but you do realise that these people are the ones you will be dealing with in the future. They're royals and they're a bit like you - proud fools that take a grudge to heart. Pissing them off early is a very bad idea."

Cara, in the meantime, had climbed from her bed and made her way over to the vodka in a surprisingly covert move. "To be fair, Shona, the bastards haven't even told me who I'm getting married to so isn't it just a wee bit fair that I should do research and find out myself?" Cara pointedly ignored the comment about her appearance as she sneakily dragged the bottle of vodka up to her lips. Taking a quick gulp, she coughed at the harsh burn as it glided down her throat but she swallowed it nonetheless. "With these sort of people, it doesn't really matter if I stab their eyes out, they're all blind anyways. And you know, Shona, our lovely little Consortium has earned itself a bad reputation over these past decades. We make pretty poems and write lovely songs, our education system is one of the best in the world and we're accredited with being a herald of the recent golden age in science yet no one gives a single, tiny, God-fearing shit. Why, you may ask? Well, because we've let every other bloody country from here to Timbuktu walk all over us!" As she casually waved her bottle of vodka around, her handmaiden, the taller girl, nabbed it from her grasp. Cara frowned then swung after it before giving up and drawing herself to her full stature of meagerness.

"That's lovely, Cara, but with no standing army, it would be nice if you didn't start a war." Shona wandered off with the bottle of vodka, leaving it outside her room as a number of other servants rushed in, each carrying something that looked very suspicious to Cara.

Backing off defensively, the young Princess of the Consortium eyed them cautiously. "That's the problem with people, Shona - sometimes they forget you don't need an army to win a war." After that, well, it was a complete bloodbath of makeup, various styles and colours of dresses and enough variety of hairstyles to give a normal person heart-failure.

---

---

When they were finished, even Cara was mildly impressed but she would never tell them that in case they grew to think she liked these sorts of things; she didn't. Her hair was pinned up messily with loose strands of fiery hair hanging indiscriminately. Thin twigs of pure silver with crystal buds crowning each one, adorned the back of her hair. The craftsmanship alone was enough to steal anyone's attention. Next, came her dress. It wasn't as complex as her hair but it was certainly better than anything they put her in before. It didn't hug her body and expose her complete lack of curvature yet the long gentle flow of it still held some mystery about it. By the time they were finished with her makeup, Cara was a tad confused - she actually looked kind of pretty. Which was strange given that the words Cara and pretty were definitely not synonymous.

By the time she was being bundled up and delivered to the waiting carpool, the maids had already backed off, content with the finish. Shona gave her a knowing look, a frown creasing her features before it broke and she gave her young Princess a hopeful smile. Ádh mór ort (Good luck). She called to her, electing to use the Gaelic which they both were fluent in but seemed to ignore over English. Cara shook her head a little, smiling as her detachment of guards guided her to the elevator and down into the three range-rovers.

"So, did you get your research done?" A young captain questioned her as they took their seats inside the car. She had been speaking to him the night before and given her detachment's apparently massive loyalty to her, he hadn't divulged the information to anyone else.

"A bit... I didn't find out who they were marrying me off to but I found some contenders. And I also found some very dangerous people so all-in-all, it was a pretty worthwhile experience. Plus the vodka really worked some wonders! She shrugged carelessly, a smile plastered to her face before it disappeared quickly as she remembered the piece in her hair and fixed her posture almost instantly. It really would not do to go in looking bad after all the hassle she had to go through.

"Vodka? Jaysus! Well, being fully honest, I probably wouldn't tackle a day like this with a sober mind myself! Cara concluded she liked soldiers - they had one job, one simple duty and they all seemed to follow it to a tee. They weren't complicated creatures and they were very easy to read but they amused her and that was very much appreciated in a world like her own.

The remaining journey settled into a strangely comfortable silence. If she said she wasn't nervous, she would be lying - she was very nervous and given the plans she had, she would be very nervous by herself. It was her duty as the Princess to attend events like these instead of the King so he wasn't there and she fully intended to enter the palace wholeheartedly alone. She had to appear strong to the world, that nothing could possibly break her. Or, more importantly, she had to appear strong to her people. If she could tackle the rest of the world's royalty alone, she could deal with them in her monarchy. It was a strange idea but the soldiers already had been briefed on it.

Finally, after a journey that seemed to last a lot longer than it actually did, they made the long curve up to the Castle of Aciras. The soldiers departed almost instantly, forming into a smart rank and standing to attention as her door was opened. She slid out onto awkward feet as both the loose locks of her hair and her flowing dress caught the wind and danced to the side in a passionate embrace. The military police towered above her, hulking giants that you probably didn't want to mess with. After a quick ceremony, she was marched to the base of the steps like a prisoner on deathrow. Judging by the looks on their faces, she might as well have been. "Are you sure you don't require at least one of us to protect you? It will loo-"

She cut him off with a quirk of her eyebrow and that knowing look in her eyes. "I'll be fine, gentlemen. Send my regards back to the King, tell him I'll write or something. I best be off. Slán agus beannacht (Goodbye and Godbless)." Turning, she ascended the steps and threw back a wave of her hand.

Once she had reached the top, she came to the sudden and very unsettling fact that she was now alone to face the majority of the world's royalty. Fun. Stepping forward on uncertain feet, she entered the royal palace only to be greeted by the sight of the Aciras Royal Family welcoming everyone. She was told about this - she could either curtsey or bow, apparently, and just praise them as much as possible and it would work out alright.

Although it pained her to do-so, she dipped into a half-curtsey, half-bow that looked pretty good on paper to Cara. "Your highnesses, I would like to extend the personal thanks of the Celtic Consortium for having us here but I must apologise for the King's absence. His health is... failing and travel is difficult. I am Cara O'Brien, first of my name and heir to the Celtic throne." Too long. Definitely way too awkward as well. Ugh, she didn't have much of a choice now anyways.

Their daughter, Raven, was pleasantly hot with her electric blue eyes catching the goings-on of the world around. Cara made sure to flash her a smile and a bow of her head before she moved around to join the others.

Technically, she didn't really join them. She watched, her eyes picking up every single little detail as the princes and princesses interacted with one-another. She stood a good distance away, near one of the massive walls. She had never really seen decadence on this scale and it was weird. Cara recognised all of them, of course - she had been doing research a lot longer than just the night before. Now she just had to figure out which one suited her cause best.

Mai had been up since the crack of dawn, getting ready for one of the most important days of her life. First, she combed her long wavy hair, ensuring that her midnight locks were free of all knots and snares. Sitting in front of her mirror, Mai had stared at herself in silence, thinking about all that her life had been up to that day. In her twenty-one years that she'd been alive, Mai had gone from hiding her identity from everyone to practically flaunting it in front of the most powerful people of Liang, and now the entire world. "Niklas König of Königreich der Welten," she said clumsily out loud. The foreign name sat heavily on her tongue, while her native language flowed fluidly out of her mouth. Mai winced, more aware than ever of her slight accent. She sighed-there was not much that she could do about that right then.

Mai had mixed feelings about being betrothed to Niklas König. On one hand, she understood the political implications of her marriage; Königreich der Welten would provide her uncle's precarious regime with much-needed advanced technology, especially in terms of military technology. But on the other hand, Mai had never been particularly fond of soldiers. She tsked irritably to herself. Now was certainly not the time to be remembering that kind of stuff. Mai steeled her resolve and settled into the rhythmic motion of combing her hair. No, she would play her part, as she had always done. There was no need for the royalty of the entire damn world to know about the things that she'd seen and the things that she remembered. Besides, I'll know soon enough what kind of person Prince Niklas König is in a few hours, she reminded herself.

After her hair was combed, Mai pinned it out of her face while she went to get dressed. She carefully slipped into the dress that she'd picked out a month in advance, admiring the bodice and skirt in the full-length mirror on the wall next to the vanity in the hotel room. The dress featured a wide black sash with a large silk rose sewn into the front of the dress, just under the bodice. The skirt was long and flowing, and it started a white color but gradually darkened to black. Near the bottom of the skirt, there were splashes of bright red that contrasted nicely with the black. Mai had fallen in love with the dress as soon as she'd laid eyes on it, and best of all, the skirt was long and billowy. There would be plenty of room to conceal whatever she needed under it.

Mai sat down again at her vanity and prepared to work magic with her hair. With an arsenal of bobby pins, hair spray, and combs spread out on the vanity in front of her, Mai eventually managed to tease her hair into an artfully messy updo. She tucked in some of the stray strands and smoothed out the back of the hairstyle so that it appeared less haphazard, pinning her bangs back as well. Mai retrieved her wooden jewelry box decorated with intricate carvings of koi fish and lotus flowers and pagodas, opening it and assessing her collection of hairpins, earrings, bracelets, rings, and necklaces with a critical eye. A particular set of hairpins with bright red glass beads hanging from a butterfly caught her attention, and Mai picked two of them up. She examined the ends, which were wickedly sharp, albeit extremely tiny, blades of sorts. Mai nodded idly to herself-they would do-and stuck the hairpins into her "bun", crossing them in a manner that reminded Mai of the hairstyles that featured two chopsticks in the bun. Mai ensured that no parts of the bladed ends were visible. After critically studying her reflection, Mai added a third one in between the two hairpins that were already there.

Now for makeup. Mai put away her hair products and shoved her jewelry box to the side for the time being. She went through the motions of rubbing foundation across her skin and applying a slight hint of pale pink blush with a practiced ease, her mind on other things. Mai had pored over the reports of the other royalty that her uncle had provided her and listened intently to what Ming Mei said about each and every person that would be in attendance. Zhou had been there too, but he had seemed rather bored. Mai rolled her eyes when she thought of Zhou; her cousin was much too rash for his own good, but there was something endearing to her about the younger man's rashness. Not that she would ever tell him that, mind you, and his rashness had gotten him into plenty of trouble in the past. Speaking of Zhou...

Mai finished touching up the light blush and padded out of her room in the suite and to Zhou's. As she approached his bedroom, the familiar sound of Zhou's shout floated out into the hall. Mai smiled to herself-Liu was probably trying to get Zhou to get out of bed at the very moment. "Hey! You guys dressed yet or are you fooling around again?" Mai called out teasingly, knocking on the door.

"We're doing stuff!" came the reply from both Zhou and Liu. Mai laughed softly before deciding that even though they obviously were not even close to being ready, the two would most likely be done earlier than she would be, and left them alone to their antics. She could only hope that they did not completely burn down the place while she was getting ready. As Mai predicted, she had scarcely returned to her own bedroom when Zhou yelled out. "See you at the ball or whatever Rosie!" he said, and the sound of feet rushing out the door could be heard. Mai arched an eyebrow-she would have to remind Zhou about not running every which way like a fool the next chance that she got. There was also the horribly informal word choice that Mai would have to scold him about.

I feel like a prissy grandmother obsessed with etiquette around Zhou, Mai thought dryly to herself. Although she was fond of him, he was just so terribly improper. Mai pushed Zhou out of her mind and concentrated on her makeup; there would be plenty of time to reprimand him later.

Having finished with blush, Mai carefully applied some eyeliner and mascara. After that, Mai selected a smoky grey eyeshadow, dusting her eyelids with the soft hue that matched the middle part of her skirt. Then came the lipstick, which had always been Mai's favorite part about makeup. She went with her usual deep-red color, smiling at her reflection. Perfect.

"Alright, just a few more things left to do," Mai said out loud to the empty room. She put away her cosmetics and picked up the jewelry box again. Gold bangles went around her wrists and a delicate gold chain went around her neck. She settled on ruby-red studs for her ears. Mai selected a black fan with razor-sharp blades on the end hidden by a wide cloth border. Finally, Mai took out about half a dozen small daggers and concealed them in the bodice of her dress and under her skirts. To top off the entire ensemble, Mai slipped into a pair of spiky black high heels that added a few inches to her height, making her almost freakishly tall. That was alright, though: she could deal with being extremely tall if it meant that she had an extra pair of weapons.

Mai knew that having weapons on her was not something that she should be doing. But old habits die hard, and you would have to be a fool to go around weaponless in court back in Liang. It wasn't like she was planning on using any of them anyway; they served more as a reassurance than anything else. And if somebody happened to discover them-well, considering where her daggers were placed, they'd have a hard time justifying why they'd been looking there in the first place. It was true that Mai had told Liu to keep Zhou away from his own weaponry, though-Mai knew she was being a hypocrite. He'll live, she thought dismissively.

Mai stepped out of her room, dressed to kill (both literally and metaphorically). Her heels click-clacked against the fine mahogany floor of the hotel room. One of her uncle's advisers-Zheng-rose to meet her. "You look beautiful, as always," he said politely when he laid eyes on her.

"Thank you," Mai replied.

"Are you ready to go?" Zheng asked.

Mai nodded. The pair made their way out of the hotel, where a luxurious car was waiting for them. Mai carefully stepped inside and sat down, Zheng beside her. The car began to move through the streets of Aciras, and Mai watched the scenery roll by, thinking about the other people who would be there too, as well as the prince that she was betrothed to. Mai and Zheng said nothing to each other. What needed to be said had already been said many, many times. However, it was not an awkward silence that the two lapsed into, but a companionable one. If Ming Mei was like Mai's father, then Zheng was like her uncle. It was Zheng who had marshaled mass support for her uncle when he was trying to restore the dynastic rule, it was Zheng who had risked everything for them in opposing the socialists, and it was Zheng who her uncle had first contacted when he came out of isolation. Mai glanced at the austere man-with his salt-and-pepper hair, severe expression, and rigid posture, one would never have guessed that he had a warmer side to him. Mai considered it a great honor that she was privy to this warm side.

As they drove through Aciras, Mai mentally went through everything she knew about the other royalty. First and foremost, there would be Niklas; the soldier prince from Königreich der Welten that she was betrothed to. According to the reports she'd received as well as Ming's insightful comments, Niklas was the type that thought honor and honesty and whatnot were important. Mai supposed that she could respect that-though she wasn't particularly honest herself, somebody who was frank would be a breath of fresh air compared to the stifling atmosphere of Liang court politics, what with its sly half-smiles and subtle insinuations that were the norm. Of course, there was Zhou, who, in Mai's opinion, was much too honest for his own good.

Mai wasn't so sure about the "soldier-prince" part. She hadn't exactly had a great experience with soldiers or their commanding officers in the past. Zheng must have seen something on Mai's face, because he gave her a reassuring look. "You're going to be alright," he said. "Ming never would have betrothed you to somebody that he didn't approve of." Mai nodded, her face expressionless.

Mai's thoughts drifted to the princess Zhou was betrothed to-Delia Oblitus-Veren, of the Verenoblitus Empire. From the reports, Mai knew that Delia was regal and elegant, composed and proper, and just the opposite of everything that Zhou was. Where Zhou was brash and reckless, Delia was careful and thought everything through. Mai's lipstick-coated lips twitched slightly at the sides. That would be interesting to see. Mai almost felt sorry for the poor girl. In any case, it would be up to Mai to keep the marriage from falling apart before the two were even formally married. Her uncle, and the people of Liang, expected no less from her.

Some of the other royalty that had stood out in the reports included Cara O'Brien of the Celtic Consortium, Liviana Traianus of Lusitania, and Karma Kennen of the Verenoblitus Empire. The first two were regarded as highly intelligent-well, no, that was not true. It was widely known that Cara O'Brien would have to be intelligent, with the way that the Celtic Consortium picked its heirs, but as for Liviana Traianus, the report had not said much. She was the tenth child or something like that, and small and sickly at that. However, Mai's uncle had told her that she was definitely the most intelligent out of her siblings. Mai believed that the most intelligent people were the most dangerous.

As for Karma Kennen, the half-sibling of her cousin's betrothed: Mai knew that he had trained in various forms of combat as a child, which was not a surprise considering his mother's position. She imagined that he would be a formidable ally and an even more formidable enemy. Hopefully, it would be the former, especially since Zhou was marrying the heir of the Verenoblitus Empire.

And of course, Amunemhet Ramesses Sipar of Egypt had caught Mai's eye too. With his love of culture and his penchant for fashion, Mai felt that if she lived in a different world, the two of them would have been the closest of friends. However, in the real world of scheming and politics and diplomacy, Mai wasn't so sure. In any case, it was entirely possible that they could discuss clothing or cosmetics by way of making small talk.

Zheng cleared his throat quietly. "We're here," he said. Mai gave him a small nod as the car pulled up to the steps of the castle. Mai stepped out of the vehicle, with Zheng by her side. She mentally steeled herself for the introductions-Mai knew of Liang's reputation with the other nations-and took a deep breath. Alright, here goes. This can't be worse than court back at home: there is a very slim chance that anybody is plotting to overthrow uncle or somehow take control of the throne here. I can do this...

Mai's silent pep talk was interrupted by the most humiliating thing she had ever seen. Zhou-Zhou, as in, her cousin Zhou-had somehow gotten his hands on a bottle of vodka. And what did he decide to do with it? Use it to create a...a fireball, or whatever the hell it was! Nevermind. I absolutely cannot do this. Beside her, it seemed that Zheng was just as shocked as she was.

Without waiting for Zheng to say anything, Mai marched up the steps. her head held high. When she reached the top, she curtsied in the way that Westerners did in front of the royal family of Aciras. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesties," Mai said, her slight accent giving her voice a lilting quality. "My uncle apologizes for not being able to attend this gathering." Mai glanced at Raven, the princess of Aciras. "And you as well, Princess," she continued, dipping her head in the princess of Aciras's direction.

Time for the hard part. There was nothing that Mai wanted more than to smack Zhou upside the head, but she had a role to play, and that role unfortunately did not involve smacking her dumbass cousin. Mai turned to the other princes and princesses assembled, plastering a smile on her face. "It is a pleasure to meet all of you," Mai said, curtsying again. She straightened up and gestured in Zhou's direction. "I see that you have also met my cousin, Zhou. I apologize for his...antics. Young men can be most unruly sometimes, can they not?" she said, her eyes staring straight at Zhou. Although Mai held a sugary sweet smile on her face, the gaze she directed at Zhou was anything but sweet.

Mai surveyed the other princes and princesses gathered, easily finding her betrothed. She quickly noted his appearance-a military jacket with the insignia of a Master Sergeant. The slight bulge in his left arm indicated a concealed weapon, which made Mai's skin crawl, though she kept the smile on her face and the outwardly pleasant expression in her eyes. Mai took a few steadying breaths as unwanted memories flooded her mind. Get ahold of yourself. This is not the time to remember, Mai chided herself. Besides, Niklas König was not a socialist soldier or a soldier from the Empire of Nippon. Surely an advanced nation like Königreich der Welten would not train their soldiers to be such...Stop it, Mai ordered silently. This will get you nowhere.

Mai moved to Zhou's side. She purposefully ignored him and motioned for Liu. "Next time, do not let Zhou do something so utterly idiotic, is that clear?" she whispered in their native language, praying that if anybody heard, they would not understand what she was saying. It was just like Zhou to potentially alienate his future wife, who was staring at him with an unreadable expression, as well as the most prominent royalty of the world ten seconds after arriving. Mai sighed. It was going to be a long three months.

"So we're all about to be married off to somebody, used as pawns in peace and expansion of our parents empires, what's got you so amused?"

At the voice of a female addressing him, Henry looked up from his text conversation with Lucas and tried to process what she'd just said. Something about the marriage and being amused. Did she think he was amused by the marriages? He blinked for a moment, watching him watching her and smiled.

"I'm not here to get married." He told her cooly, all smiles as usual. "I'm here to decline, though my father might try to step in and change that for me. But still, I'll do what I can to save the woman I'd be betrothed to. Nothing worse than being with a man that doesn't love you." He explained as he closed his phone and put it away, putting Lucas on standby to ponder the meaning of 'lots of legs...'.

"In any case, how are you, Ms. Manera?" Henry offered, revealing the research he'd done on basically everyone in attendance and some that would not. "We've never met, but I did a bit of research on everyone. It helps to know who people are. I'm Henry, by the way. Henry Allen Peterson, but please call me Henry." He told her, his voice soft and soothing.

"I was actually just speaking with a friend of mine back in Elaniel who was curious as to the pretty ladies in attendance." Henry explained further, grinning at her. "And I was sure to inform him that there was no lack of pretty ladies for tonight." He chuckled, looking around the room.

As if on cue, his phone buzzed in a familiar pattern. "Excuse me. I would never normally bring out my phone while speaking with someone but it seems my sister needs something." He explained as he lifted his phone out of his pocket and checked.

_Rosa:
Did you make it okay?

_Henry:
Yep! How are you doing, Rosie?

_Rosa:
Dad's being weird, but other than that I think I'm okay. Listen, I heard some of the workers talking, they have spies over there to make sure you take the marriage.

Henry had been looking down at his phone with a small smile but it quickly faded as her last message came in. He knew exactly what it meant even if Rosa didn't. He let out a long sigh and swallowed hard before putting his phone away and ignoring any subsequent messages from Rosa. She'd eventually get the message that he was busy...

He looked up at Amberlyn before him and smiled. "Sorry about that. She was just worried." He explained, forcing a small laugh to follow.

Meenakshi Banerjee

It wasn't long after Meenakshi's arrival that royalty started pouring in. After greeting the princess of Aciras, Meena moved on to greet Prince Niklas König, a small smile on her face as she folded her hands in greeting. "It's truly wonderful to meet you, Prince Niklas, I hope we can get along well together while we're here." The princess spoke, politely.

"A pleasure for me as well, Princess Meena! And an absolutely lovely dress- we don't quite have anything to match what we have in Königreich der Welten." The girl gave him a brighter smile, feeling proud. "Thank you for your wonderful compliment," Meena said. She was a bit taken aback as the prince tilted closer, his voice growing lower. She laughed, slightly awkwardly at his comment. Ah, I guess you're not going to like me as much then. The princess couldn't help but think.

Just then, one of the Pirate looking guests - Prince Zhou, if her memory served correctly - suddenly began breathing fire. Meena, startled, stepped away almost subconsciously. She knew that she wouldn't get along with him. That was not the correct way a prince should act, the princess immediately disapproved of his behaviour.

With the arrival of Prince Harry, the girl was fine with simply nodding and smiling from where she stood. He didn't seem like he wanted to be disturbed - hell, he didn't seem like he even wanted to be here at all.

Meena headed towards Prince Edwin's direction, greeting him with a smile. "Prince Edwin, it's a pleasure to see you." The girl's smile gradually going as he brought up the rebels. The topic of rebels was one thing she was hoping wouldn't come up. It was wishful thinking, but a wish nonetheless. However, Meena knew she would have to answer, Britannia was one of Aarudhya's many important trading partners. "Thank you for your support, Prince Edwin," The princess bowed her head slightly, a small smile on her face, "should there ever be a problem, I know that my family will call upon yours for support." Slightly surprised at the short goodbye, Meena turned to look at the direction Prince Edwin was once looking at.

'Oh... so that's why he left.'

Dressed up - quite handsomely - in traditional Egyptian attire, was her husband-to-be. Prince Amunemhet, the young playful Prince of Egypt. Meena was only aware of her engagement to the approaching Prince for under six months, the Princess researching as much as possible about her betrothed ever since - to the point of being obsessive, her brother would add.

The butterfly feelings in her stomach returned, and it took all of Meena's strength not to collapse from nervousness right there. 'This meeting will make everything real, it won't be a dream anymore, Meena. You won't be able to wake up and pretend that your engagement was done against your will or knowledge.' The grim thought passed through her mind, terrifying Meena to the core. Of course, the Princess looked composed from the outside, if not a bit surprised, those around her completely unaware of the chaotic thoughts running through her mind.

The Prince stood before her, for the first time the future partners could look at each other. She pressed her hands together in greeting, bowing her head slightly to show respect before relaxing, a small but nervous smile on her face as Meena looked at her future husband with awe. Heat rose up her cheeks as he pressed a gentle kiss to the back of her hand. It wasn't the first time her hand had been kissed, but it certainly was a first for her to be so flustered. Then again, it was her betrothed that was doing so.

"Prince Amunemhet," The Princess responded, equally flustered as the tower of a man in front of her. Her cheeks darkened at his compliment, her mouth opening to respond politely but a small croak came out instead. Meena pressed a hand to her mouth, slightly embarrassed as she chuckled, "I apologise for that, I meant to thank you for your sweet compliment. I don't think I'm quite used to the fact that I'm currently talking to the man I'm supposed to marry." Meena found herself admitting, slightly sheepishly.

He hadn't listened, had he? Amber thought to herself, well he had a right not to she supposed. He probably didn't intend on company. However, the prince looked up from his phone amd looked straight at her. He blinked, watching her and gave her a smile.

"I'm not here to get married. I'm here to decline, though my father might try to step in and change that for me. But still, I'll do what I can to save the woman I'd be betrothed to. Nothing worse than being with a man that doesn't love you." He replies coolly, closing his phone and slipping it into his pocket. Amber crosses her arms. She opens her mouth to say something but the Prince had already starts talking again.

"In any case, how are you, Ms. Manera. We've never met, but I did a bit of research on everyone. It helps to know who people are. I'm Henry, by the way. Henry Allen Peterson, but please call me Henry." Of course he'd done research. For a short while Amber wished she had paid attention to her mother's common gossiping, it may have done her some good in knowing the royals but she was quick to mentally take that back.

"There's no need for formalities," she says extending a hand, "Just call me Amber "

"I was actually just speaking with a friend of mine back in Elaniel who was curious as to the pretty ladies in attendance." Henry explained, giving her a large grin "And I was sure to inform him that there was no lack of pretty ladies for tonight." He chuckled. Amber watched his eyes dart around the room as she shook her head slightly. Admittedly each and every royal child had grown up to be quite beautiful and handsome and each looking rather regal in their formal or traditional clothing. That comment came to no surprise to the princess.

As if on cue, Henry's phone buzzed.
"Excuse me. I would never normally bring out my phone while speaking with someone but it seems my sister needs something." He explains, pulling his phone from his pocket, reading its message.'

Amber watches as Henry smiles, occasionally typing into his phone to be returned with the same ringtone as earlier. At one message, however, his smile faded as he draw a long sigh, slipping his phone into his pocket once again.

He looked up at Amberlyn and smiled once again. "Sorry about that. She was just worried" This comment followed by an obviously forced laugh. That was when Amberlyn remember what she was about to say earlier.

"You know there's not gettin' out of this... right? Especially if your parents are as strict as mine, or not I guess. As much as I want to end this I can't and neither can you,"