— Personal Quarters of Princess Anareliea Hulevia, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

“Death is a natural, peculiar thing. But fear not, for your mother has departed us only briefly. She will be born anew and her nature will watch over us in heaven. You shan’t fall into melancholy, Ana, no matter how tempting it may be to give in to your sorrow. House Hulevia is at its core optimistic and strong. Darkness is nothing to us and with you we should continue that tradition. I will be gone one day and I will not be here again to be your anchor. So you must be your own anchor.”

How right you were, father.

The thought hummed in the back of Princess Anareliea’s mind as she stood in front of the gold-pieced mirror that laid in front of her, the strong pulls of the brush held by her lead servant going through her hair. Normally she would be more prissy about such hurried manners with her hair but the last few weeks of her life had been absolutely deplorable and in turn was distracting her from acting how she would normally do so. Despite her memory echoing in her mind causing sorrow she refused to show it, even amongst privacy with only her most trusted servants at her side. She knew showing her sorrow was exactly the sort of thing she was expected to not show others and that she couldn’t when the dawn of a new academic year at The Conclave was upon her. After all, such things meant there would be no faces at the school and worst of all more people to put on a face for.

Some of which were old friends and others unknown faces.

How would she look to Aleandra and Telaivas if she burdened them with her fleeting emotions for the first time she had seen them since her father’s funeral a fortnight ago? It wasn’t behavior becoming of a princess, especially in the public view— she could hear the hushed whispers, haughty snickering, and restrained gasps already. She would have to keep her wits about her, act like she would on any other day even if it would be mentioned or muttered. She couldn’t look weak. Especially if she were to prove to the regency council that she was the proper candidate for succeeding her father. Not just because of her status as the Patriarch’s only child but because she was the correct person to carry on the dynasty no matter if she was female or inexperienced; the imperium had a Matriarch twice before and one of them was barely older than she was when she was crowned. It would be little different.

With Gaea’s wisdom she would trump her uncles and cousins with their bid for imperial succession. All she had to do was win the hearts and minds of the people who controlled the votes. Cousins, heirs, siblings, third-born sons— so many people of importance would come to this academic citadel and be within her palace. She may not have been as devious as her aunt who served as a keeper within The Conclave, but she was far more approachable and likable due to her role as a model student of relative age. Well, as long as she didn’t let her temperament get in her way of schmoozing with others at the least. Which outside of the lengths of her devotion to the goddess was seen as her principal weakness and unflattering trait; no matter of how proper she could be and remember her expectations as a princess such things tended to happen. She remembered one incident where she nearly slammed her fist into the face of the Duke of Alondah’s daughter; which had she succeeded would’ve been quite the scandal albeit one that still wouldn’t have harmed her much in the long term. But she remembered the quips and murmurs in the hallway corridors after her fist had connected with the oak cabinet. She remembered them oh so well.

Oh my, it looks like Saint Anareliea is more of a demon. How uncouth.

She could feel that same temperament rise up in her stomach as she recalled it, though she didn’t show it on her face. With a warm smile she opened her eyes and cleared her throat.

“I believe we are all ready for the ceremony, Reina.”

All of the new students had been settled in since the lunch hour had ended and had been likely anticipating what the headmaster was going to say; though it was more likely they were not considering these sort of ceremonies tended to be dreadfully dull and whilst Anareliea had been accustomed to them for years she could understand how some of her fellow nobles found it a pointless extravagance that was keen on wasting their precious time. However such opinions wouldn’t change the fact being that Grand Keeper Eadbeoth loved the sound of his own voice— a fact that was evident upon every memory Anareliea could recall at the school from her first introduction within her first year to even the most casual of situations. Even if it wasn’t important for the Grand Keeper to speak he was known to intrude consistently on such. But it was an intrusion that was unavoidable given that every student within The Conclave were his wards. In many ways they had always been less of being taught but more babysat with whatever manner the Grand Keeper believes was appropriate. Anareliea couldn’t bear to think of the possibility of him reacting unkindly to punish bad students and facing little consequences for his actions— she was glad he was obnoxious over abusive.

Reina nodded, halting her train of thought. “Very well, Princess Anareliea.”

Reina was her most devoted servant and probably her most serviceable asset at The Conclave. Whereas Anareliea was not the best she could be at political intrigue and cunning it was true that Reina did. A former slave of a ruthless merchant from Faeron who had deemed himself a “merchant prince” due to his powerful connections she had been used countless ways to get information from inconspicuous targets as no one could suspect an unassuming maid. But eventually whoever was protecting him turned on him and the King of Faeron had announced her to be a free woman. Eventually she found herself working for her father and the rest was inconsequential. All that was important was she was the headmaster of her servants and her most trusted ally. In many ways, she was Anareliea’s second mother.

Following her mother’s death all those years ago there had only been the goddess, her letters with her friends, her father, and Reina— something that had kept her together at such a fragile age that wasn’t prepared to cope with death. But she had great pillars of support and because of that she prevailed; Gaea had truly blessed her to get through a time of darkness and sorrow. Even then, Reina was still a servant and a lowborn one at that and due to such reasons she could not give her all of herself to the woman. The southern gospel always told her to be kind to the unfortunate, but there were expectations to nobility especially the imperial nobility. She couldn’t act like a burdened lamb and show weakness to a servant… she couldn’t. Had it been known a lady of her prestige depended on someone like Reina like that and she could kiss all her aspirations of becoming Matriarch goodbye. Her rivals would see to it. However once she got what she wanted she would see to it that Reina would never have to work a day in her life again when she promoted her status to lesser nobility. But such things were some time away.

“Aren’t you excited for the new academic year, Reina?”

“I suppose I don’t understand how it is different than the last, m’lady.”

Anareliea let out a slight giggle as she stood up from her seat in front of the mirror, brushing down her dress as she did so. A sense of confidence overcame her and her brows narrowed. “Well, you weren’t serving the next Matriarch of the Imperium of Gaealia a year ago.”

Reina met Anareliea’s voice with a wide smirk. “Indeed. Let us go, we shan’t be late.”

— The Imperial Great Hall, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

The group of individuals nestled into The Conclave’s Great Hall were many, dozens upon dozens of nobles of various origins like it always had been. Heirs to kingdoms, duchies, counties, and baronies all gathered in the most prestigious academy within humankind’s reach; ages as young as one and ten or as old as one and twenty. Anareliea had seen it all before and it still continued to amaze her how the school could have such a consistent amount of traffic for its population of students. She supposed when it didn’t cost a noble family much to attend the facility it wouldn’t be difficult to see the majority of every important relative in the realm standing here in this hall year after year. If she had been the type of girl to be intimidated by such things she most certainly would have been.

The proceedings had yet to really begin, but everyone was on their best behavior with minimal gasps, murmurs, and chattering among the populace. With a good number of them being prince and princesses they could not truly afford being too casual and it was good to see she was not the only one to recognize that. Even as she recognized the figure of Telaivas and Aleandra tucked in a corner observing she couldn’t give much beyond a graceful nod as courtesy; as excited as she may have been she did not need to squeal to see them. It would be unbecoming to be so overeager, and Princess Anareliea Ayelet Hulevia was not unbecoming if she could help it; and she most certainly could at this moment despite all of which was upon her mind.

Her thoughts halted for the time as the Grand Keeper began his speech that he had so eloquently prepared.

“Ah, it looks to be everyone is here— how excellent.”

There was a shuffle as Grand Keeper Eadbeoth Forletus placed his hands behind his back as his faded emerald green eyes looked upon the assortment of students and to-be students.

“Through the new and the old we must begin a time of great endeavors as we dedicate ourselves to the sciences and the arts. I was like you youthful nobles once, pushed through the door to better myself in the eyes of what was best for my dynasty with a robe that was too big for me and a companion who wanted to be here less than I did. Ha!, but don’t you worry my students; it would only get better with time as I made strong bonds, met my future bride, and rose through the ranks of several courts following my prestigious graduation. My uncle, Aldous Forletus, was proud of me and my achievements— a fact that will be no different for you all as I am quite convinced you will become the future of our civilization and bring us forward whether you realize it yet or not. The Imperium is always growing and becoming more prosperous by each grain of sand that falls from the glass; that will not change. It is so astonishing.”

Every single person was the future of the realm in his eyes, every single year, every single speech. It was a fabrication created in his imagination— how much he cared about the students depended on his angle and what he got out of it. Even now, right here in this hall was the Grand Keeper ever the politician. But could Anareliea really criticize him when she wasn’t that different when it came to politics and façades? After everything she was thinking about since her father’s death and even before and all of the eloquent dialogues she’d spun to get her way in hopes of achieving a vote? It made her sick how they were alike in that regard but she kept telling herself she was better than this man who only wanted the coin that came with prestige and not the responsibility, virtue, or true nobility that came with advancement.

“For those of you who are new to the academy.” His eyes moved to Prince Brendan Tromvara and others sorted into what Anareliea’s cousin had called the green corner as a light joke about where the newcoming students generally were ushered into standing. “My name is Eadbeoth Forletus and I am the Grand Keeper of these halls. I am an instructor, leader, guardian, and most of all friend to the students here at The Conclave— I will be responsible for your education, training, conditioning, and discipline. But this you may know given your parents have likely told you of the situation of being a student at my academy as they are in no doubt wise beyond their years.”

Anareliea wanted to scoff at such a ridiculous presumption but held herself back. His academy? The nerve. The academy belonged to the Imperium and not some delusional forloni noble who never held any titles or real responsibilities of his own in his life. Such an egotistical and preposterous imagination he had.

“I take this responsibility very seriously! So please be wise and honorable in your actions while you are my wards. I’ve been serving in such capacity for over ten of our years and I will be hopeful to serve many more, so do remember my experience in such tutelage is absolute. But you shan’t be afraid of me, my students, as I remind you that I am your friend and you can come to me if you have any perils, inquiries, requests, or needs. Every servant here is at my beck and call to make you comfortable and for those of you who came without companions or servants I will offer you my own in your parent’s stead. I am very eager to see you comfortable in your path to growing as a member of the Imperium, truly.”

A mental sigh breathed out in Anarelia’s mind, a reminder of her feelings toward the Grand Keeper.

Oh, you’re eager alright. Overeager.

As if he had known what Anareliea was thinking the Grand Keeper let out a well-mannered chuckle. “Life is fleeting and we must be earnest in our endeavors, truly. But who are we to presume what is the correct education or the incorrect one? It is with that knowledge in mind we must approach all of the knowledges we can! I would hope you all agree even if you are young cynics or difficult learners. Classes will begin upon the twelfth day of the summer so you willful newcomers will have six days to get acquainted with the academy grounds, prepare your schedule, and mingle with your fellow students. If you have any questions, do ask one of the instructors or servants with haste.”

The Grand Keeper moved his glance back to other corners of the hall as he rose his right arm from his back and motioned upward.

“This facility was built over six centuries ago, a magnificent piece of architecture and achievement. Can you imagine living in a time where the goddess was upon our ears and leading us to greatness? How… awe-inspiring. Let us bring honor to our silent goddess and live as she would want us to as we continue to define what humankind can achieve in the future. Such is what your creator would have hoped we would do, is it not?”

It was like he was trying to mock her. Through Reina and her ways Anareliea knew that this whole nostalgic passage about Gaea in his speech was about filling up time so he could hear himself talk rather than actually have bewilderment and fondness of the goddess of creation whom humankind owed everything they had to live up to. The Grand Keeper was a skeptic and a notorious one at that; in fact, Anareliea believe he was an heretic though Reina could never discover if he held atheist opinions upon theology or not. After all, the Grand Keeper was good at appearances and even better at covering his tracks. Anareliea didn’t like it, any of it; and the fact this cynic was spouting praise over Gaea made her ill and nearly made her temperamental side come out. But such a brief moment was not going to cause her to act out of turn. Absolutely not. Gaea taught man to rein in their sins and being wroth was the principal one. But it didn’t stop her from wanting to.

“Because look—” He paused moving his hand to motion towards the entire crowd. “—all around you. In this very room, you shall see the future is here right now in every single one of you. It will be a splendid future, do you not agree? With all of that said, I believe I have taken up your attention for long enough now. Thank you for your time, good tidings. Enjoy your six days of peace and remember if you need me do come find me.”

“E Pluribus Unum.”

A light breath left Anareliea as the Grand Keeper had finally finished as he made way for the room’s exit. In all honesty she thought the speech was going to be longer like it had been last year and she was also surprised he had not used her father’s death as some sort of lengthy tirade about why this year had to be the best for the academy given the sadness of such a death. Perhaps he did it to save her anguish? Anareliea wasn’t completely sure but if it was so she was grateful he had some semblance of a decent soul within him. Though given his views contradict what he stated about Gaea she was unsure how much of the Grand Keeper was utterly contrived with a scribe’s pen. A dangerous man with dangerous power, that much was for sure.

At any end of it, she was at least relieved it was over for the moment.

But there was much to be done.

This is where the real presentation begins.

Telaivas Telamonius Turanis

---

How boring.

The excitement of a new environment, new possibilities was long gone, replaced by utter boredom. Telaivas Telamonius Turanis was, by now, utterly convinced this person was some sort of demon, sucking in joy and happiness under the brilliant guise of a boring man giving a boring speech. It was only the promise of actually seeing her two acquaintances, Anareliea and Rhelissa, that kept her from just leaving. She was a princess after all, and if she decided the place was beneath her attendance, then there would be no one save her parents to stop her. And Telaivas was sure she could simply pull off that injured look and escape scot-free if her parents did try.

Frua, her personal maid was standing off to one side, looking as emotionless as always. She stood out a bit from all the other servants, perhaps because of her age. Or perhaps it was those oversized gauntlets she wore. While she looked calm and composed, her eyes darted here and there, ready to act if there was even the slightest hint of threat towards her mistress. It was hard to blame her for acting so, considering what happened during the journey here. Ser Aivas was nowhere in sight, presumably busy with something else.

When will this old man stop talking?

Telaivas wanted dearly to sit back and relax somewhere, but that was hardly in line with her facade and would hurt her reputation. Her face felt stiff from keeping up her attentive smiling expression. She'd think up some sort of elaborate plan to make the Keeper pay, but she had a feeling she would do well to have the Keeper on her side.

“Thank you for your time, good tidings. Enjoy your six days of peace and remember if you need me do come find me.”

Finally, the speech ended, and the Grand Keeper exited the room. Almost like magic, Ser Aivas appeared before her.

"Excuse me, my lady, it appears your room is secure. But I will patrol around it tonight just in case."

"Thank you, Ser Aivas." Telaivas said, her voice soft and gentle. "Frua." Wordlessly, her maid sidled close to her, following close enough to be able to react quickly should the need arise, and yet far enough to be respectful. These two usually served as her escorts everywhere she went. There were others, a group of servants that arrived with her, but they were mostly for other things like managing her room, luggage and the likes.

Telaivas went first to Rhellissa, one of her acquaintances and accomplice in many a scheme. It was for only a short while, but running schemes with someone else for a change somehow made the end result more entertaining. "Princess Rhellissa? Is that you?" She spoke, a gentle smile upon her face, though it had a slight mischievous curl, a small chink in her facade. "It has been quite a while, hasn't it?"

If she recalled correctly, one of their last schemes together was at the stable one dark moonless night. She hid herself in one of the hay piles and they just about scared the stable boy right out of his skin after extinguishing his candle. That one had her in a giggling fit all night.

Seldo's Private Quarters

"You don't think this one is too gaudy, do you?" Seldo said, holding his hand up in front of him and counting the sparkles on his brilliant emerald ring. "It fits the color scheme, but perhaps the gem is a bit too large for this occasion."

"Not at all, My Lord!" Orchid replied in a cheerful tone as she braided a portion of Seldo's hair. "I think it looks wonderful on you. That ring just screams, 'right here is a man ready to learn, and look good doing it.' Besides, you're not just impressing lower nobility today. You're presenting yourself before a large gathering of princes and princesses, many of them crowned. Flaunting a bit of your wealth before that audience is perfectly fashionable."

Seldo smiled and gave no objection. He would trust her judgement as always... and that ring did look damn good on him. The color scheme for his outfit today was green and gold. Deep earthy greens were brought to life by the vibrant golden trim and elegant patterns woven through his outfit. He wore a light coat with the Forletus family crest sewn into the back: a golden leviathan swimming in an elegant swirl. Seldo wanted everyone to know who he was without saying a word. His family crest combined with the prolific wealth he was displaying should make it fairly obvious for anyone with a basic grasp of politics. Orchid finished his braid as she often did, tying the tips of his hair into an oval gem, this one an emerald to match the color scheme of the day. Once the preparations were done, he stood up and looked himself over in the mirror while Orchid made the final adjustments on his attire, making sure that everything was hanging at just the right angle.

"There, now that's what I call a handsome prince!" Orchid said. "I'm sure you'll have potential suitors from all houses lining up to make your acquaintance."

Seldo gave a gentle a gentle laugh. "Dear Orchid, you misunderstand my motives entirely! This is a place of learning. I would never sully these halls with such vulgar intentions. Though..." He grinned. "It would be irresponsible of me not to give consideration to the propositions of one who could bring wealth and power into the Forletus family."

Orchid rolled her eyes and let out an amused chuckle. "My lord, I'm sure that no matter which young lady happens to strike your fancy, you'll find the words to make her seem 'valuable' to the family." And with that, Orchid ran a comb through Seldo's hair one last time and sent him off to the opening ceremony.

The Great Hall

Much to Seldo's delight, he saw that he was wearing what was probably the most expensive outfit in the room, even compared to other princes and princesses of similar stature. He recognized quite a few faces of people he had met at balls and gatherings, and he saw that his cousin, Anareliea, was in good spirits. He felt genuinely sad for what had happened to her father, and the respects he paid at his uncle's funeral were not feigned. It was one of the few events where many people failed to recognize him, and rumors even began to circulate that he failed to attend. After all, people were used to Prince Seldo wearing flashy, vibrant attire, but a funeral was no place for such antics. Instead, he wore plain blacks and grays like everyone else; he wouldn't be surprised if Anareliea hadn't recognized him there. He did not know the late patriarch well on a personal level, so he didn't feel much actual grief at his passing, but he still felt sympathetic towards her loss. A lesser woman would still be in mourning, but his cousin was attending this ceremony like everyone else as if the funeral had never happened. Ruse or not, it was an impressive display of fortitude.

However, they were not at a funeral now, so there was no shame in making his presence known. He noticed that the new students were being corralled into one corner of the room, which he didn't particularly care for. He pseudo-obliged the staff, walking in that general direction so that he stood on the fringe of the new students but could easily be mistaken for a returning student. As he walked towards this socially advantageous position, he found one of the younger looking students and walked up to him. He cleared his throat and uttered a single word: "Pardon." The expression he wore was perfectly cordial, but his eyes said, "I have somewhere to be. Move." The young noble looked up a Seldo for a moment, gave him a courteous nod, and then stepped out of the way. Seldo grinned internally. With a single courteous word, he had made a show of authority and importance in plain sight of both the new and returning students. The year was off to a good start.

The opening speech was what one would expect. Promises of greatness for the school, its staff, and the students. Standard fare, but at least it represented the Forletus family's famous word crafting abilities adequately well. Seldo made a point to softly clap once everyone was finished, which spurred those around him to clap as well. It was no rousing applause, but it was an amusing effect to observe, as nobody but Seldo knew the true origin of the clapping. Then it was time for them to "mingle." Seldo now had an interesting choice to make. Who would be the first person that he would publicly address? Why, the most important person in the room, of course: the most likely candidate for the next Matriarch.

Seldo made his way over to Anareliea and gave her a small bow. "Milady, I'm pleased to see you in good spirits." Here, he decided to avoid asking how she was doing, as the answer was fairly obvious given recent events, and he opted to avoid the topic of the funeral altogether. It would be better to make this a more positive conversation. After all, they hadn't seen each other in quite a while; why plunge right into doom and gloom? "The Conclave is a great opportunity for us, don't you think?" He continued. "It is as the Grand Keeper says. This room represents most of what the world will become. As we study, we will learn what our friends and rivals are capable of, and who those friends and rivals ought to be. I know this question may be a bit premature, and I hope it is not too forward, but I'm curious. What does the next matriarch think of the future of her empire?" He gave a sweeping motion to the crowd of students who were already chatting, meeting old acquaintances, and forming new alliances. Whether Anareliea chose to answer that question or not, it would be interesting to see what kind of person she had become.

— The Imperial Great Hall, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

By the goddess, he’s so insufferably boring.

As far as Princess Rhelissa was concerned, this whole “imperial academy” business had started like she had predicted it would— boring, unimpressive, and a complete waste of her time. A poor impression indeed considering how she had not spent much time within the halls of the prestigious citadel of learning. Regardless of that fact it mattered very little in the long term— the proper agreements were put forward with her guardianship being handed over for the second time in her life. So with a disinterested expression on her face she stood onward listening to the prattling of a man who thought he was more important than he actually was. But she supposed that was common of men and women who held little significance, especially in the south. Perhaps it was the intolerable heat that was the result of the desert winds carrying themselves to Hulevia through the north wind?

She always did hate the southern weather.

Rhelissa’s brows narrowed as the Grand Keeper continued on with his speech as she began to see subtleties in his dialogue that had she not been intelligent may not have picked up. A light smile curled on her lips from the intriguing facts that this man tried to keep secretly hidden away. Underneath all of the politeness and inspirational flowerings of his speech were little words that he repeated— a flaw in his understanding of the common language or perhaps an indulgence he could not let go of. Words like friend, truly, and ward were meant to be used lightly but he spoke them with emphasis. A minor deduction of any individual with relative intelligence and perception would show that this was a man that loved power of other; especially those with greater prestige than he could ever wield. The power to discipline the “future” of the imperium if he so wished. But he flavored it with guile and insistence on his friendly disposition. Interesting, but worrisome.

He finished his introductory speech with a phrase from the old tongue of the south— what her ancestors had called “the summer language”. E Pluribus Unum, otherwise meaning “One from Many”. She supposed he was an intellectual shill who served to only exist to eat the trash thrown on the streets like a bottom feeding eel and thus liked repeating words he had heard of some decades ago. Pathetic.

And so she was left to her own devices. She had already told her companions to keep their distance or get busy— the only one who remained within her relative vicinity being that of Ser Lucarn whom had designated a comfortable yet appropriate distance away from her in The Great Hall. She did find his insistence amusing even back in the castle halls of her home in Aladore; she imagined he would not change much, but really she did not completely mind his presence being a little intrusive. After all, he had a responsibility to upkeep as her sworn sword and protector. Just like she had a responsibility to serve as a student and Princess of Aladore.

Heh.

Her thoughtful musings came to a halt as the chattering of others began before she could find a sensible place to sit down and read— though the voice was one she had known for the last year or so considering her guardianship under her father as was the wish of her own father. Princess Telaivas of Xahria.

"Princess Rhellissa? Is that you?" She spoke, a gentle smile upon her face, though it had a slight mischievous curl, a small chink in her facade. "It has been quite a while, hasn't it?"

She must be referring to the fortnight reprieve since we last saw one another— prior to the Patriarch’s funeral. Did she get so lonesome or forgetful in such a short time? Pity if so.

Rhelissa nodded as she turned to her friend, “Around a fortnight and a half, yes. You seem well.”

— The Imperial Great Hall, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

"The Conclave is a great opportunity for us, don't you think? It is as the Grand Keeper says. This room represents most of what the world will become. As we study, we will learn what our friends and rivals are capable of, and who those friends and rivals ought to be. I know this question may be a bit premature, and I hope it is not too forward, but I'm curious. What does the next matriarch think of the future of her empire?"

How gracious of you my cousin, to announce such things before everyone. What is your game, I wonder?

Outside of friendly courtesies they hadn’t spoken for many years and if he had attended her father’s funeral he did so with humility and discretion. But her little birds had told her of Seldo’s accolades since they were younger, and she had heard no news that he had changed in regards to the goddess— a fact that had been on her mind since she was told he would finally be attending The Conclave. Anareliea hadn’t forgotten what sleights he had uttered and if he was wise he would’ve understood she wouldn’t until a royal apology was addressed to her. However, she was no wicked harpy and she knew very well that she had to react with kindness and courtesy. Especially considering the fact he had just recognized her as the next Matriarch, the role she so desperately craved. But Anareliea had rivals and she knew it; with Seldo being as clever as he was this could’ve been all a ploy to embarrass her in front of her potential allies and newfound friends. Though she couldn’t be sure what he could gain by such a depraved joke.

Perhaps he was sincere?

Could he be?

The area around them had grown a little quiet as the question was uttered and Anareliea could see the eyes of her rivals upon her. It was time to act with dignity and confidence; there was no question about that. She thought for a brief moment on how to address the situation before responding quickly but not haphazardly to the amber-haired relative of hers.

“How forward, Seldo, my cousin.”

Anareliea moved her hands together, palm to palm as she looked over Seldo and her newfound “audience”. She knew this answer could set her up as a power-hungry child, an overzealous follower of the faith, or a conniving fool if she worded her answer incorrectly. A princess was all about appearances even within the framing of a student of The Conclave. A precarious situation for sure.

“Well, if I am to become the Matriarch I am going to have to do much more than thinking, I’m afraid. The state of the imperium is in strong need of a fearless and rightful successor to Patriarch Theodoric the IV, but it all falls to whom the people think deserves that right. I would be flattered if the people choose me as that successor and would follow faithfully as their wish. However, such thoughts are much too early to dwell on, I believe. I think I should focus my efforts on becoming the best student I can be as my father surely desired before I set my eyes on the imperial throne. Do you not agree?”

— Imperial Courtyard, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

Once the speeches were over and done with, Prince Ydrian decided to take the closest door to him to effectively get out of The Great Hall before things got too out of hand. Fellow youths of noble birth as they may have been, it was apparent to even him that the scene’s tone was going to shift and as much as he would’ve liked to catch up with his friends and brief acquaintances he just couldn’t bear to witness it on his first day as a student of The Conclave as it became all so apparent how far away from Hawk’s Rest he actually was.

It wasn’t just a matter of physical distance, either. The imperial southlands were just so culturally, nationally, and aesthetically different. It was hotter than it was in his homeland with strong winds taking the desert heat and making it collide with the humid winds coming in from the eastern and southwestern seas. Whomever would wear extensive and superfluous amounts of clothing had to be melting and he couldn’t understand how the cavalier knights who fought the sand orcs, desert monsters, and nefarious bandits could do so in plates of sandsteel armor. Sure, he had been to the occasional gathering out of Hawk’s Rest before but he had just never really noticed it before.

He wondered why as he shuffled over to the steel fences that lined the courtyard that overlooked the sea— the imperial capital in the distance, standing on the coasts of the mainland as they sat on this tropical citadel of education; locked away from the rest of the world in hiding as the floating imperial navy sat in the waters; the massive galleys looking over the oceans beyond to protect them and the imperial capital from notorious pirate raiders like The Kraken. But really, it was here that looking on he realized how much it felt like the naval fleet was foreboding and not uplifting; almost like they were forcing them to life on this bastille. But maybe such thoughts of The Conclave being a prison and not a paradise of opportunity was due to the reason why he was sent here.

He smiled warmly.

Stay postive. I have friends here and opportunities to correct my ruined reputation. I need to embrace that and remember which of my friends is a student here.

Aleandra Pridedane.

He hadn’t forgotten— he had noticed her during the speech; there was no one else it could’ve been. But he couldn’t just go up and speak to her during the speech. Sure, he could’ve stayed in the hall but he needed to get some air to clear his head. Hopefully in some way it was working, though mentally he was sure that it wasn’t. He had talked to dozens upon dozens of girls his age, some of them intimately so; so why was it so difficult to clear his mind and talk to someone that probably was his closest friend six years ago? He knew he had this affection, but he didn’t realize what it would be like to try to rein it in here at The Conclave.

She... she’s even more beautiful than I thought she could have become.

He mentally shook his head as he turned from the fence with a heavy breath. There would be none of that— he was Prince Ydrian Hawkhart. “The Harem Prince”. His thoughts never ruled him and he refused to let that change him. Aleandra was just another member of the imperium and one that understood who he truly was more than anyone. She wouldn’t dismiss him, and he could talk to her. She probably felt this place as much of a prison as he, after all. He looked back to the exterior doors of the hall for a brief moment before returning his gaze to the gated off sea; he would mingle later as for the moment he was thinking and appreciating his surroundings.

After all, it was a very pretty prison.

Prince Ezran Selran Taake had never met half or even half-of-half as many peers as were sharing the room. Though the overwhelming majority of faces were unfamiliar, it did not take introductions to tell that they were largely taller, stronger, and better composed than he –perhaps not a great feat, but one he marked as important all the same.

He was unnerved, which came to him as no surprise, but still managed to maintain an outward calm. To his left, Ser Mara stood bearing the same expression she held during his father’s speeches, one of dutiful boredom. As well expected, but it was a rare welcomed familiarity that eased his anxiety, and he felt himself relax vicariously. She leaned against the wall, unceremonious even at an age where one might expect grace, helmet gone, perhaps not even packed at all. However, he couldn’t help but notice the details of her rest, one hand propped at her hip, just at the blade sheathed there. Her thumb hung absently over the U-shaped guard, like a hook poised to yank the sword free and ready at only a moment’s alert. Her other hand held lazily onto the cusp of her gorget, but he knew well how quickly it could fly to the dagger sheathed at the small of her back. Another welcomed, albeit grim, familiarity.

To his right was a figure much more imposing, and one he was glad to have a bar between himself and the rest of the crowd. His uncle Yvoddan –though it had been many years before Ezran’s birth that anyone but his father had called him that– was like a cemetery statue, unmoving, even his breaths masked by the layers of furs his coat bore, with eyes transfixed upon the Grand Keeper. Perhaps it was the way his attire, from regal fur hat to well-tailored boots, expressed macabre royalty, or perhaps it was the way he seemed to be far more interested in Eadbeoth’s speech, but Ezran felt more like the convoy standing beside him.

”Look alive,” Vodd’s low, scratchy command sent an attentive shiver down Ezran’s spine. The moment they were invited to leave the Auditorium, his uncle began for the exit.

On impulse Ezran started to follow, but found his feet anchored for a moment. He looked around the room, only a few passes, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. Indeed he recognized few of the princes and princesses present. His cousin was among the crowd, Edgar, he believed the boy’s name was, though by who specifically their relation was tied, Ezran was uncertain. He looked young, younger than most attending, and he wondered if the boy had come voluntarily. In fact, how many of the young men and women slowly making their way out of the auditorium were here of their own accord? Plenty, for sure.

Then there was Princess Anareliea, a face teetering on the edge of “acquaintance” and “stranger”. There was a seed of guilt sown in their one encounter, and standing in the vicinity with her again he remembered with a degree of embarrassment how he’d done little to make an impression of any sort. Perhaps the circumstances would allow him a chance to at least apologize, but he would much rather maintain their more or less harmless status than unintentionally create an enemy. Especially an enemy like her.

One of the last faces he recognized was Princess Rhelissa’s, and he was glad to see she was attending. He wasn’t hesitant to call her friend, and surrounded by strangers, a presence like hers was appreciated. For a moment he considered branching off, at least briefly, to extend a greeting or wave hello, but she was approached first by another girl whom Ezran did not recognize. Looking back, he saw Vodd had not slowed, and Mara cocked a brow at him, expectant. He promised to attempt speaking with her later, even if he didn’t quite believe it, and followed after his uncle.

— Yvoddan Taake’s Quarters/Halls, The Conclave —

They came to a sudden stop outside of the door, and Ezran bumped into Mara’s arm.

”Hold up,” she said, and, hand at her hip entered the room.

Vodd was silent, only briefly pulling his eyes from the doorway when Ezran glanced up at him, like he could sense it. The boy went rigid, attention to the floor, the strange temptation to apologize for an imagined slight thankfully caught in his throat.

Back home, the crypt of a man had been a beacon of safety, one of within a hand count in the whole of Darkthrone that would regularly tolerate him, and moreover, protect him from the ire of those who would not. Ezran was still certain the residents of the Conclave would come to dislike him in time as well, but for the time being, in the lulls between necessity, he remembered who his uncle was, what he’d done, and why being so close so often without consequence was more towards a miracle than a blessing.

At length Mara reemerged, no worse for ware and carrying what Ezran recognized as easily as he would his own arm, his sword.

”S’all clear, Vodd,” she said, stepping aside as the elder man started in. ”I’m gonna bring Ezran back, get the lay of the land.”

Vodd didn’t bother replying, offering only a dismissive wave before shutting the door behind him, and leaving the both of them to the quiet, empty hall.

Mara whistled sharp but low, and Ezran only just turned in time to catch the sword tossed to him. Immediately his sense of urgency began to wane, his lost weight returned, and he fit the blade to his hip with ease. He rested his hand upon the pommel much like Mara did, a gesture he’d only on occasion taken notice of, and recognized as a learnt habit. His thumb hooked much more easily around the crossguard, and the leather-wrapped hilt on his palm felt as velvet.

In tandem steps they walked back down the hall.

”Well that was boring as all hell. Hope the crusty bastard’s not gonna be teaching anything.”

The edges of Ezran’s lips twitched upwards, and he knew from the corner of his eye that she saw it. Mara cleared her throat, never one to shy from pushing reactions out of him, and set her sights back to the auditorium.

”Try to stay relaxed, ah? No one’s out for blood today. Might be tomorrow, every day after that, but for right now just take it easy. Might actually make some friends.”

He gave her a mocking scowl, but she only smirked and shrugged. It didn’t take long from then to return, where they found the great hall very much alive. That said, Ezran wasn’t about to throw himself into socializing with strangers, it was more than enough for him to sit back and observe. He could remember faces well, voices too though there was poor chance of catching any through the waves of noise.

Mara in tow, he found a nice spot along the wall, far enough from the window so that the heat didn’t boil him in his furs. She reared up a ways beside him, leaned back, and he could tell her eyes swept the crowd far more critically than his, even if they were half-open. It was comforting enough for him to let his guard down, slide his hand from the pommel and simply rest his elbow on the hilt.

Ezran watched the grand exchange with intrigue, quiet and content. As Mara had said, tomorrow could be wretched, but for now, there were smiles and greetings, and no one to glare. This would do.

"My lord, I cannot let you attend the ceremony dressed like a commoner."

"Come now, the material is far too rich to be a commoner's, besides what will it harm?"

Well, sure, he certainly looked rather plain. No jewery or baubles to speak of, and while the materials that his jacket and pants were made of cost far more than what the average person could afford, they completely lacked design or embroidery of any kind. With a frown he inspected himself again, and finding nothing wrong he took a step towards the door.

"My lord, I cannot allow you to get your way this time, there will be plenty of powerful people there you need to make an actual first impression on."

"Excuse me, Swift? I'm leaving. You shouldn't question my will you know."

"My lord, who has the most control over your everyday life and comfort this far away from home?"

With that Haytham paused and turned to face the woman, cocking his head at the thinly veiled threat. It was a threat, and he had to admire the woman's audacity even as he grew increasingly annoyed.

"Would you have taken that tone with my father?"

"Think on this: Do you recall your father gallivanting around doing what he pleased without any regards to his appearance? Why do you think that was, young prince?"

A chill ran through Haytham, and he decided wisely to reconsider his choice of garb for the day. There would be time eventually to reprimand the woman, at the moment though it was far too much of a hassle to disobey. If she truly had tamed his father like she claimed...

She was truly a terrifying woman.

*****

Still without jewelry, but sporting a much nicer jacket with the insignia of House Avion ( A desert falcon, perched on a sword pommel) Haytham at last made his way towards the opening ceremony. He had it in hid mind to miss the opening speech - the one the year before had gone on for ages- but the young prince feared for his life if that ever happened. Behind him, the prized maid of House Avion followed closely, and as if reading his thoughts flashed him a wordless, wicked smile. No, today he would not be getting his way.

With barely contained dread he took his place in the hall, and tuned out the old man while looking at the faces of the new arrivals. He knew... almost none of them, unsurprising given his family's lack of diplomacy the last few decades. Throughout the entirety of the long winded speech he muttered as quietly as possible to Swift next to him.

"And the blonde there?"

"With the curls? Kara, daughter to a powerful baron up north, although of little significance to the realm."

"No, the attractive one."

"Princess Aleandra, of House Pridedane. A candidate to inherit the Kingdom of Vespira. Out of your league dear prince."

"Just the necessary info please. The dark haired one over there next."

"Princess Rhelissa of House Fel. Heir to the Kingdom of Aladore. Also out of your league."

"Just shut up already!"

As the last words left his lips, so too did the speech at the other end of the room. Blissfully short this year, Haytham gave a prayer of thanks to the Goddess for her mercy. As idle chatter began filling the air, he turned to his maid one more time, speaking normally this time.

"I should remember all that, and I don't expect to be in any danger- physical or political- for the time being. Please find out if the situation with Baron Theodesus has been resolved peacefully yet in the meantime."

"My lord."

Now she listens to me.

As the woman departed, the feeling of freedom filled Haytham, and he wasted no time in starting to mingle with his peers. Briefly, he regarded Anareliea and considered making his way over to her. She had recently lost her father, and while the political implications were dire, the personal difficulty must be even more so. It was barely a year ago that he himself had gone through the same situation. Pain briefly gripped him, before he shoved it aside with a roll of his shoulders. It served no use, he would not allow himself to be gripped by it.

Before he could take a step towards the princess however her cousin -if Swift had been correct- stepped in and began a very public chat. Haytham reconsidered, and instead cast his eyes elsewhere around the room. There would be time to offer his condolences later, and while he personally didn't mind his own antics, trying anything too casual around the princess right now could be a public embarrassment for her. Unlike him, her succession was not secure, and he had barely enough tact to prevent harming her situation.

With a sigh he considered the other figures in the room- many powerful- and found himself struggling to pick one to approach. The last year he had breezed through every academic challenge presented to him, a perk of his lacking childhood, and earned the envy of many of his peers. This though? It was perhaps the first tough decision since arriving a year ago. With a sigh, he picked six of the most powerful figures in the room and erased their names from his mind. Instead, they became 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6. Quickly, he pulled a die from his pocket and tossed it on the ground, stopping it with his foot before it bounced away.

3. Alrighty then. All good things came in 3's, right? Good sign so far. With haste, he snatched the die back up and made his way over to the blonde girl he had inquired about earlier.

3... 3... 3...

Crap! He shouldn't have wiped her name from his mind so soon. C'est la Vie, life was too short to worry about the details. With confidence that didn't betray his mind furiously scrambling for a name Haytham stepped in front of princess and gave a small bow, the last of the formalities he intended to use that day.

"So, first thoughts on the place? People here are stiffer than a board most days, almost like relaxing is a chore. Personally? I heard somewhere that stress kills, doesn't serve your people for you to die young, save for the one making a coffin. Try not to get too caught up in it all is what I'm saying."

A smile spread across his lips as he rambled, avoiding any mention of her name or status. They were at least of equal rank, in the end, perhaps she was even lower than him. Swift had said she was a candidate to inherit. In either case, he wasn't obligated to lick her boots or vice versa. Just the sort of situation he enjoyed.

His advice finished, and with a nod of approval at himself for helping an underclassman, he ran a hand through his hair thoughtfully. Surely he couldn't be expected to memorize the face of every royal he'd never met. Him not knowing her name was practically natural. No need to try and hide it really. Details were rarely worth worrying over, and besides, he had a plan...

"Sorry, Haytham, I don't believe we've been introduced before, miss...?"

"I think we're done here, Synce?"

"As far as I can see." The blonde turned to her older maid with her hand extended off to her sides, shifting her gaze off to her own dress as a final inspection. At this point, she was just doing her final touch-ups as was Valera, off to her rear checking up on the rest of her dress. With a slight adjustment for the cuffs of her sleeves, Valera spoke up. "Completed here, my lady." The younger maid stood up, as the two both went over for another visual inspection of Aleandra's clothing. First impressions always mattered, and the particular mannerisms for this venue had to be kept up if Aleandra were to keep up her attitudes on the rest of nobility and herself. She had to be conducted in a proper tone, why wouldn't she? Setting a precedent for herself kept the bar high.

And that's why she's been here in the first place. Keeping the bar about 7 feet in the air and hoping she could jump that far. Aleandra's gaze shifted to the windows as she mentally prepared herself for approaching whoever she would meet there in the hall and the courtyard. She would have to keep up appearances no matter what, even if she did run into her friends. She did wish to talk to Rhelissa, it had been quite some time since the last verbal exchange the two had. As for Anareliea, well, not here likely. Not in public, their conversation would have to happen in private, for an assortment of reasons. Mostly impressions for the both of them, and then of course the privacy of having their conversations alone would have some reassurance for honesty and transparency.

Brendan. Another name that stuck out, neighbors who were acquainted. He did seem nice. Other than that, her limited experience out of the kingdom was somewhat restricting, with not too many times to meet other people than she already knew. She would like to meet some others, though quite honestly she was expecting nothing but stuck up entitled brats. In her opinion, those people were just the worst form of royalty, and her own pedestal is only so high up due to her expectations for them. Unfortunately, few of them actually hit that bar of holding that form of standards. It was quite irritating.

Ydrian, well. They were somewhat cut off after the past few years, whether it was unfortunate or not. Again, limited experience out of the kingdom, leading up to only her older brothers commentary about a lot of people. Knowing him and their differentiating ideologies, "impressive" and "friendly" could mean some assorted things, considering his tone. She wasn't all too worried, but from experience by Anareliea, people change. But impressions matter, and she was somewhat hopeful that all her childhood friends were at least good company.

All in all, she would have to be ready for all sorts of people. Despite knowing she wouldn't blend all too well with a large chunk of the people here, Aleandra knew that she had impressions to make and that mask of hers to keep up. It was basically defining, and she had no intent on breaking face. Absolutely none.

Aleandra took a deep breath, turning to the door. After her few seconds in her own thought, thinking about how everything was going to be, she stepped forward. Valera proceeded to open the door, where Ser Calisone was promptly awaiting her to escort her into the hall. "Are you ready, My Princess?"

"Yes. I'm hoping not to get into a duel on the first day, but it would make quite the impression to win a duel first day.” Aleandra smiled softly, looking up to her guard.

“That might be unwise, especially on the off chance you might lose.” At that slight comment, Aleandra’s facial expression shifted, though she knew Calisone only meant well. She did tend to get fired up in duels, a slight part of her perfectionist personality, taking pride in her blade. So she figured, with a deep breath, that if all went well, she could prove herself eventually. Socially, she needed to prove herself now.




’Ever Diligent, Mask Up.'

While the Grand Keeper’s speech was a bit drawn out, it had intent. Other than setting the scene for all the students, it gave them reason to be devoted to this cause, despite how they might feel about this school. Some despised it sure, but the man was quite serious about everyone here being the future. And that, set something to be known about how the conduct here was to be played out.

It's as if he were trying to put some form of faith into these people where they could create a better world for essentially all nations united, a quite beautiful goal for inviting the future. She wondered if he was serious about him being welcoming, many people said that without meaning, and only to keep appearance. Aleandra didn't know which one she was most times, but she tries to be as welcoming as the Grand Keeper was.

Ah yes, what a better tone to start the year off. Nothing less than perfection at this stage, as Aleandra took her slow pacings around the hall. Calisone wasn't too far behind, as she searched for the familiar faces of those she knew. And of course, those new who she hadn't been acquainted with. First impressions mattered, with her hands behind her back and searching around for her old friends. Anareliea and Rhelissa were both in conversation, somewhat unfortunate in the case of the latter, though this gave her more opportunity in the case of everyone else.

With Brendan out of view, she couldn't seem to start that conversation up to properly meet him as he truly was. Somewhat unfortunate once more. As she contemplated looking around for Ydrian, another boy gave her a bow, returned by a curtsy. Only a proper greeting for the time and place.

He spoke up as if he didn't want to be here. Perfectly fine, Aleandra might have preferred it back home, but here was her best shot at both the throne and enhancing her standing. “I enjoy it so far. The standards allow us to strive for better while we attempt to impress our people. If you have an expectation of me not aiming to please my people, you're talking to the wrong person. Thank you for the advice though.”

With a gentle smile in return to his, she attempted to lighten up her attitude slightly, in order to spark up some form of connection between the two. He seemed to be a bit more relaxed than she was, for some relatively obvious reasons (the most prominent being Aleandra herself). He didn't seem to care all too much about being casual, referring to as Miss, which gave Aleandra some indication as to what kind of person he was. It's only a matter of time to see whether or not he sees himself as high and mighty, and that would determine the two’s relationship.

“Aleandra Pridedane. It's a pleasure to meet you, Haytham.” With a small nod of the head, she looked back to Calisone, who stood a few feet back as not to seem intrusive of her matters. Adjusting her cuffs was a slight habit she has in the middle of conversation, hoping to get somewhere with it, if gave her a second or two of thinking time. “Is it that rare to find someone who enjoys formalities? Or just finding someone who enjoys this school?”

— Personal Quarters of Prince Brendan Tromvara, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

“Prince Brendan… Prince Brendan…”

Rivellia had softly called out to the sleeping prince as she continued to shake him. The prince had, unfortunately, fallen asleep on the desk while sitting down. They had just moved in along with the other new students and the prince was relentless when he said that he wanted to help. He had been more than just enough help and thus exhausting the male. The trip here didn’t help too much either. Brendan was awake earlier than expected so even after only an hour of tidying up and arranging the place, he was fast asleep. However, the problem was, they still needed to attend the opening ceremony. The female servant sighed as the prince wouldn’t wake up. She resorted to swiftly smacking his head causing him to jerk awake. This was an unforgivable action for a servant to do with their master and the punishments for other nobles would be harsh, if not death itself.

”H-Hey, what was that for?” He turned to his cousin while rubbing the back of his head. It wasn’t too hard so it wasn’t painful, but it had still surprised him. Rivellia was composed though as she stood back at a respectable distance from her liege. Brendan sighed as he leaned back on his i, letting his hands fall onto his lap. ”Sorry. Getting your nap disturbed by someone smacking you behind the head isn’t the most pleasant of things.”

“No need to apologize Prince Brendan. In fact, it is only rightful that you punish me for my rudeness.” Rivellia knew the consequences of her actions but she was more than prepared for it. Given Brendan’s attitude, she knew that he wouldn’t want to dish out any sort of punishment, especially to her, his best friend and cousin.

He opened his mouth, about to say that he has no want or need to partake in giving any punishments. But when he looked at her, it was like she was saying that she would leave him unattended, undefended and unaccompanied if he does not do anything. She was actually training him to act like a prince. He was too lenient when it came to his commoners, especially his servants. Brendan stood up and sighed, ”Fine. Your punishment will be sitting through the whole Grand Keeper’s speech. I had heard that it is usually long, and usually, extremely boring.” He said with a grin and a thumbs up.

It was probably because they were of the same age, born at the same time, that they are able to converse like this. A casual conversation between a master and his servant, actions that can only be done between peers, a friendly relationship of two people in different social statuses. Of course, the fact that he was still a prince and she a servant made these things unacceptable so they never dared show this to others. Not because of the fear of ruining his reputation, no of course not; he feared that he would lose his trusted friend.

“Milord, you are aware that your punishment does not affect me in any way correct?” Rivellia pointed out to which Brendan just shrugged. He couldn't care less. That was his decision and he was not taking it back.

”I know. What do you think of the Academy so far?”

“Why ask me Prince Brendan?”

”Shouldn't a prince value what his subordinates say?” Brendan replied as he folded his arms neatly behind his back.

“That must be the most princely thing you have ever said on this day.” Rivellia replied and Brendan simply smiled at her. “I find this place quite nice and is great for nobles to socialize with each other. This will be a good place for your growth Prince Brendan, both as a person and as a prince.” She replied honestly, gazing out of the window. “However… I will miss our kingdom.”

Brendan nodded, thankful that she had replied to him. ”Hm, well, I'm sorry for dragging you all the way here.” Rivellia opened her mouth to say something but Brendan raised his hand to silence her. ”But there's no one else I can count on beside you. So I hope you'll stick with me until the end Flare.”

Rivellia smiled at her liege and then bowed. “I will always be by your side my prince. That is what I swore to do.” She looked out the window. “We must depart lest we be late for the Grand Keeper’s speech.”

The blond prince nodded. He grabbed his coat and put it on. He stretched his arms to loosen it and then his back. Hm, it's not very pleasant to fall asleep like that. He hold know all too well. His back is bad enough as it is. He really should stop doing this. ”Alright, let's go shall we?”

— The Imperial Great Hall, The Conclave —

Brendan tried to keep his posture for the entirety of the speech, idly looking around every now and then, but not too much as to not draw any attention to him. He could already see people he knew - Prince Ydrian, Princess Aleandra, Princess Rhelissa and Princess Anareliea. Only the last one seemed to have studied here in the Conclave for some amount of time. It had been a while since he last saw some of them, and admittedly, he was actually looking forward to speaking with them, Aleandra especially. He looked back at the Grand Keeper, boredom already obvious on his face. If anything, he wanted it to end quickly. As someone who doesn't cope well with boredom, lengthy and uninteresting things like these are his weak points. Hopefully, he doesn't deliver long speeches whenever they meet.

After what seemed to be a long time, the Grand Keeper had finally ended his speech. The blond prince watched as the other nobles had up and left to mingle with the others. This year would be great for making allies after all, and as well as enemies. Especially for some of them who are in line for the throne. He followed their lead and stood up and left the room. He could already feel the presence of his ever so loyal servant behind him, matching his pace.

"Have you found anyone of interest?"

"I've seen quite a number of familiar faces. Although with this amount of people, I doubt I would see-" Brendan cut himself off as he found himself looking at Anareliea herself. However, he was a little far and if the princess wasn't paying attention then there was no chance for her to single him out. However, she did look busy speaking to another person, a male.

"That is Prince Seldo Leonine Forletus of Forlonia, Princess Anareliea's cousin." Rivellia pointed out, just in case her liege forgot.

"Right, him." He said with a nod before turning around and walking the other way. A lot of people had been looking at the 'Saint'. Probably rivals for the throne. He'd rather speak with her in private, away from the prying eyes of her rivals. Besides, he certainly couldn't just waltz up to her and then just randomly start a conversation, interrupting whatever was happening before. He might not be too princely but he still had his manners. Brendan had been scanning the area for anyone, Ydrian or Aleandra. However, he instead found himself resting, leaning on a wall and just watching the nobles pass by. No one recognized him as the last born prince of Tromvara. Not many did. It wasn't an unusual occurrence, not by a long shot.

It took him some time to notice that there was another presence besides him. And the one to tell him that was Rivellia. Turning to the black haired prince, he absentmindedly asked, "Is mingling with others not suited to your taste?" Anything to hopefully start a conversation. At least make one acquaintance with someone on the first day. Who knows, that person might be the guy you're sticking with all throughout the school year.

@Mcmolly

The Great Hall (With Many Watching)

Seldo gave a pleasant smile at his cousin's response. It was humble, tactful, and well-worded. More importantly, this little exchange had accomplished everything he wanted. As Anareliea spoke, the two of them were clearly the centerpiece of the room, and Seldo just loved being the centerpiece. To his delight, she had addressed him directly as cousin, so all the eyes and ears that were upon him now saw his powerful connection. He was important because he knew important people and was not afraid to approach them. And, in front of the eyes of Anareliea's rivals, he had effectively made a public endorsement of her candidacy for the throne on behalf of Forlonia; the opinion of the crowned prince of such a kingdom was not trivial, but convincing his father that family ought to sit on the throne was. The world now knew who Forlonia would vote for. How many would follow in suit?

Lastly, he got a sense of the woman that Anareliea was growing into. She had a reputation for being... fiery, one that tended to be detrimental to her image. Yet here she was, making a calm, elegant, and thoughtful response to a provocative question. Either the rumors had grossly exaggerated his cousin's temper, or she had learned how to play the game. Seldo was inclined to believe the latter, for he did remember a discussion they had as children getting a bit heated. It was also impressive that she tackled the question head-on, instead of using formalities as a smokescreen to evade it. Seldo thought that was admirable and showed great courage, and he hoped the rest of the world would see that as well. What's more, she gave him only a minor rebuke, "how forward," for his brazen question, when she would have been well within the bounds of proper decorum to simply dismiss him. The situation could not have played out any better for the young prince.

"Keep your eyes on the present to secure the future. A wise policy indeed," Seldo said. "I'm sure your father would be very pleased to hear you speak these words." Then he took a lighter tone. He wanted to maneuver the conversation away from grim things like dead fathers. "And I know my father will not let me within twenty feet of his throne until I show satisfactory growth here as well." He gave a pleasant chuckle. "So, indeed I do agree. Let us focus on bettering ourselves while we have the opportunity. I look forward to sharing that experience with you, cousin. Perhaps we can learn as much from each other as we can from the instructors. If we were permitted wine I'd offer you a toast. Instead, I'll just offer you my best wishes." With that Seldo bowed, releasing her from the obligation of anymore socialization. Still, he couldn't help but smile. He could only imagine the impression he'd made by being the first to address the Imperial Princess, and to do so in such familiar terms. People would certainly be talking about him now.

Telaivas Telamonius Turanis

Her smiled widened slightly.

"Ah, yes. Yes I am well." Leaning slightly closer, she flashed her best innocent look, one she often used to endear herself to others. "I do hope that it is the same for you as well. It is quite a relief for me to find another familiar face in a place unfamiliar to me. Perhaps we could meet later on tonight in my quarters for a more private conversation."

Sighing, she continued. "It is unfortunate that I cannot dally here for too long. There is still much I must do and I have yet to met Princess Anareliea. Responsibilities can't be shunned I'm afraid."

With a small wave and a bow, she turned and left. Telaivas could almost feel the questioning gaze almost burning into her skull. Her maid was no doubt expecting her to somehow embarrass Princess Rhellissa with a few choice words. She had no need of telling every little plan she had, or even any of her plans except for what Frua would need to further them.

Seeing that Princess Anareliea was unoccupied now, she walked towards her, making sure Anareliea noticed her. "Princess Anareliea? Is that you? It has been quite a while, hasn't it?"

"Your people? I don't think I've quite gotten that response before. My people are pleased by feeling protected and earning money. I can't say whether they'd care about my etiquette in comparison to that, but... different cultures, no? I have not had the pleasure of visiting Tromani lands in my life."

Haytham flicked his eyes to her guardian as she looked at the man, and gave him a nod of acknowledgement. Haytham himself was unarmed, and did not often let Ser Alexios accompany him to social events, so he had no fear of being mistaken for a threat. Still, like many of the other men tasked with guarding future monarchs, he looked very capable. Perhaps one day Haytham would be able to convince Aleandra to let them spar together, his sword hand twitched at the thought before he turned his eyes back to Aleandra. The second time she spoke seemed much more relaxed than the first, and he hoped that it was his influence allowing that. So few people refused to not be uptight at the Conclave.

"Formalities? No, I must have given you the wrong impression. People who attend this school love formalities more than they love life itself. It's really quite maddening."

He couldn't help but chuckle and shake his head. Although he had come to this school partly to find future friends and allies, it seemed as if he was ten years too late. They would have adored the stiff boy he had started as, rather than the man he was growing into. As it was, he had never felt more out of place.

"As for this school; Perhaps I am biased. My family has long held a disdain of it, and I can find little love for the place from the other students here. You said you aimed to please your people? My people are the only reason I made the decision to come here, and remain the only reason I have not yet tried to work on an escape."

He paused then, blinking a couple times before letting out a second, chuckle. Here he was telling her to relax and not to worry while also talking about how much he hated the place she would be living for the next few years. Not exactly the most well-thought-out approach he'd ever taken in a conversation. While thinking of something to reassure her he took a moment to give the noblewoman a once-over. She certainly had put more effort into her appearance than he had for the day, although to put in less would be downright worrying levels of carelessness. His eyes lingered longest admiring the swordman's calluses on her hands- making note that her guardian might not be the only one to spar against as he hand twitched once more.

"You seem more ready than I was though, I'm sure you'll have an easier time of it. Hopefully we both leave here with the means to please our people."

He almost turned to walk away then, before catching himself. Aleandra Pridedane. He didn't care for formalities, but the two were hardly properly introduced at that moment. He loathed attaching his house name to himself at first meeting, but Swift had become annoying insistent that it was of vital importance when meeting other nobles. He did not feel like sitting through another lecture from the woman when she returned. For a moment, he pondered if extending a hand was breaking some kind of royal protocol, but it felt appropriate, and if he was being honest with himself he would have done it whether it was or wasn't.

"Sorry, I guess I have you at a disadvantage now. Haytham Avion, and the pleasure's mine."

By the time Ezran noticed the Tromani boy and his companion, a quick glance showed that Mara had spotted them first. Nothing overt, no narrowed eyes thoroughly searching for weapons, no skepticism to be displayed in any shift of posture, only a subtle change in her attention, a cocked brow, then her head rested back against the wall. Safe, he knew, but an illogical doubt simmered in his gut all the same.

For a few moments it seemed fruitless, like the two had only come for a quick respite from an exhausting series of “such a pleasure to see you again” and “how fares your kingdom”. Ezran was happy enough to share the space, even felt a sense of pride in knowing the other boy would be allowed uninterrupted peace while he stayed –uninterrupted at least by him. A sort of silent solidarity, like the kind held among the Darkthrone soldiers before battle. Mara had told him of the quiet nights, shadowy figures hunched around a fire, or tucked in a cave, with naught but errant eyes and the sounds of whet stones on steel to betray life and intrigue. He wondered, briefly, if such an unspoken language could be taught, or if it was simply learned through trial.

But it was only brief, as it turned out the boy was not invested in silence. The question was nonchalant, and Ezran was admittedly envious of how easily he could ask himself into a conversation with a stranger. Mara was the same way, one of the few he’d ever heard speak so casually to his uncle, not to mention the Darkthrone king. But where hers was a more rustic offhandedness, the Tromani boy was distinctly regal, and Ezran found himself caught in an embarrassingly quiet few moments, mouth open as though meant to form words with no air. Then, as though his body acted of its own will to spare his dignity, he shook his head and bought the time to work up an answer.

”No.”

And that was that, just as quickly he turned his eyes back to the floor and folded his arms tight beneath either edge of his cloak, as if the room had suddenly been sucked of its heat. The familiar awkwardness that accompanied most of the things he said had long since lost its bite, and he’d have been plenty content to simply stand there in maintained quiet. However, another glance to Mara changed his mind.

Her expression said what she didn’t. ‘You turn around and make nice or I swear on Gaea’s hairy ass…’

Ezran cleared his throat, looking back to the Tromani boy. He gave a nod and extended a hand out, heedless to its rough leather-bound glove. There was much less of a delay in his next reply, as though spurred on by the holes Mara’s eyes burned into the back of his neck.

”Ezran…ah…Taake.”

@Polaris North

— The Imperial Great Hall, The Conclave —

There was a few moments of silence between Brendan's question and the other prince's answer. By that time, Brendan already knew the answer. After all, many nobles, royalty or otherwise, quickly respond to a question. If anything, it was to quickly gain the other's favor. But this one had hesitated, and took some time to speak. Brendan placed his hands in his pockets as he waited, staring off into the amount of new and old students mingling with each other in front of them. While most say this was awkward silence, the blond prince had welcomed it. It also gave him enough time to think of what to say. He was quick to strike a conversation, but that didn't mean that he could keep the conversation going.

A kind smile replaced his nonchalant face earlier as the Aladori prince replied with a simple one word answer. Although there was no follow up, no throwing the question back at him, no introducing himself, no nothing. At least, not for a while. Well, even he didn't know what to say. This conversation was admittedly getting nowhere. Brendan hadn't looked at the other prince in the entirety of their meeting, besides that quick glance to know that there was someone there. It's not that he didn't want to; he admittedly felt a little affected by the awkwardness surrounding them. He glanced quickly at Rivellia, frowning a little seeing that she had not been interested and was looking at something else. Whether it was a person or just the clothing, Brendan didn't know. She understood everything about him but the same could not be said vice versa.

”Ezran…ah…Taake.”

Taake? Brendan casually looked at the prince beside him, extending his hand for Brendan to shake. Now that he had a good look at the other, he could easily say that he is of Taake blood. Those men in Darkthrone are very easy to remember, especially if their blood is still pure. He then pushed himself off the wall and then happily extended his hand to meet Ezran's and shook it. "Brendan Tromvara. It's a pleasure to meet you..." There was a pause in his words as he pondered whether to add Prince to the name or not. They were both of equal status and royalty doesn't seem to matter all that much in The Conclave. "Ezran." He finally said. It wasn't took long of a pause, barely noticeable really, but it was there.

After the introduction was made, he let Ezran's hand go and then placed it in his pocket once more. The posture he was currently making was informal, but he didn't care too much. The smile still on his lips, he continued, "It's either you know me as 'The Rogue Prince of Tromania' or you didn't know I existed at all. I'm used to this so please don't burden yourself with thinking about who I am." He decided to say that early, to avoid seeing the person he was talking to beat himself or herself up just thinking of who this character was.

"To think my first conversation would be with the Taake prince... Most interesting." In all honesty, he had only heard of Ezran from his brother before. Nothing too outstanding really. In fact, the topic rarely came forward whenever he and Isaiah talked. It was surprising, seeing as the male was perhaps the heir to the throne, he expected more stories. Yet none came up. No tales of bravery, no tales of foolhardy actions, no negatives, no positives. "Seeing as this is our first meeting and you saying that socializing isn't exactly what you want, we can bask in a comfortable silence, if you so wish. I am in no rush to be friends." He offered. A kindness that can often be misunderstood. Worded as kindly as possible, that was what Brendan had offered. He didn't mind staying silent, not at all.

@Mcmolly

— The Imperial Great Hall, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

Seldo’s kindness unnerved her, but it didn’t surprise her. There were few reasons to trust people like him, even if they were related through her mother’s blood— after all, ever since her father had passed there had been waves made behind the curtain that people were allowed to see by her family members linked through her father’s line and everything that had been done there had been against her. Reina had found out. Reina always found out. As such was an unnerving thing to know, but she would rather it have been something she had found out and been unhappy about rather than tapdance through the darkness of ignorance. Uncouth things were better known than presumed; a game of reputation and wit. Perhaps if Seldo could prove himself useful and loyal she could dismiss his cynicism about the goddess and ally with him. It would be a wise move if things went according to plan, of course.

It was a thought, anyway.

Before Anareliea could get her bearings another approached her, this time a face she recognized as a friend and an ally; although the latter point was in some amount of doubt. People who were cunning creatures at home tended to turn into her rivals when they found themselves at The Conclave. But she had several years on Telaivas and wasn’t afraid of her. She needed pawns before she could become queen— and Anareliea had the chess board already played out. A wide friendly smile remained on her face as Telaivas approached her and spoke her words.

"Princess Anareliea? Is that you? It has been quite a while, hasn't it?"

“Telaivas! It is so very good to see you. But yes, I do agree it has been too long; years, even! I had heard from your father that you would be attending, but I did not know in what capacity.”

Though she did know it was likely that Telaivas was only here to study under the godfather of magic himself, Mathis Thornwell. It was why half the students had optimistic views of their future as nobles and not fearing how long they would locked up in a caged tropical prison. When you could learn things other men and women could not because of your status, wealth, and birth it was something you took pride and hope in.

“Are you finding The Conclave well?”

— Royal Stables, The Skyheart Keep —
— Late Night, 1st Day of Summer —

"My Prince, I can't let you go alone like this!"

Prometheus appeared to ignore her as he continued to adjust the bags on his horse. In them, he had packed enough clothes, money and supplies for the 5 day ride to the Imperial Heartlands, along with his personal bow. Adorned with a featureless black hood and cloak over his preferred outfit and his sword at his hip, he intended to leave in the dead of night and escape the oppressive environment he called home. The only problem was...

"Prometheus, please!"

The prince sighed through his nose and looked at his personal maid and bodyguard, Kara, over his shoulder. Dressed in her normal style of riding trousers, boots and a simple tunic under light armour with two twin sabres at her sides, her expression was one of concern and upset. The fact that she dropped his honorific was enough of a sign that she was worried. Without a word, he pulled the last strap tight on his horse and walked around it to the other side. When he came back, he tossed a large brown bundle to her. She caught it and unwrapped the brown cloth from it, revealing two saddle-bags already packed with supplies wrapped within a brown cloak similar to his own.

"I'm not going alone. Saddle up, we leave in 10 minutes."

His voice was cold, but only those most familiar with him could hear the slight warmth reserved for those closest to him. Kara's body was moving before her mind even caught up and, true to his words, the pair were galloping out of the Keep 10 minutes later. Prometheus riding his personal horse Vaylin, a black stallion, and Kara riding a beautiful palomino mare named Othia, stolen from the King in a last act of defiance, rode until the sun came up. They continued on in the same rhythm: ride as far as the daylight allows, rest at the next tavern and continue again at first light.

5 days later, they arrived at the Conclave with the barest of margins left before the Grand Keeper's speech began.

~~~~~ ~~~~~ ~~~~~
— The Imperial Grand Hall, The Conclave —
— 6th Day of Summer —

"...and remember if you need me do come find me."

"E Pluribus Unum."

As the Grand Keeper ended his speech and left the room, the white-haired prince extracted himself from his musings to scan the room, his senses re-focussing on the vast hall filled with people. His eyes settled on a particular girl as another young boy approached her. Prince Seldo Forletus, he believed he was called, struck up a conversation with his cousin Princess Anareliea Hulevia, the supposed 'Saint' in line for becoming Matriarch. He recalled what he could of her infamous beliefs on Gaea and briefly laughed softly though his nose. It wouldn't do him much good if she were to find out about his own thoughts on the subject... Nevertheless, he dismissed the thought and continued to scan the room until his settled on another familiar face.

Prince Brendan Tromvara, who appeared to be trying to start a conversation with a grim-looking black haired boy, was someone Prometheus recognised from personal experience. As young children, Brendan had happened to stumble onto him at a diplomatic function and the two had kept in touch, one might have even called them friends, until they fell out of contact following the attack that scarred Prometheus and the trauma completely changed him. Brendan might even think he was dead... despite this, Prometheus had no desire to regain that bond and instead turned way from the group.

He looked over to Kara, who was waiting at the edge of the hall with the other servants, and walked over to an empty spot on the wall. Leaning against the wall when he stopped, she quickly joined him.

"Do you not wish to speak with the other students, my Prince?"

"I'd rather tend my horse. He's better company anyway..."

She frowned at that.

"Prince Prometheus, These are the students you will spend the next few years of your life with. You should at least try to get to know them."

The response she recieved was a sharp glance sideways. His lips curled a tiny amount in a miniscule scowl before he relaxed again.

"If they want to talk to the scarred white-haired boy with cold eyes they can feel free to do so, but I'm not looking for friends. If they want to talk, they come to me."

With that, he closed his eyes and leant back further against the wall, arms crossed against his chest. He stayed like this, listening to the conversations around him, until he felt someone gently tap his arm...

"It's the formalities which create an air of perfection for the people to see their ruler as, I personally find it enjoyable to present myself in such a manner. You are happily welcome to visit in the future. Likely after our education or on the off season." With an adjustment of another cuff, she looked behind Haytham, just to get acquainted with other people's faces as people caught up with old friends or met the new. Like herself.

The Prince had a comment on formalities, and while Aleandra did initially misunderstand his intent, she had a bit of a chuckle as response. It did make sense that people here had some standards, why wouldn't they? Yes, this school did keep very high standards, though it was pretty perfect for her. "Ah, well if that's the case, I should fit right in. Hopefully it's enjoyable and there are some people with a sense of self earned pride."

His attitude towards the school was slightly concerning, considering a series of different things. His dislike for the school was somewhat inevitable, some people absolutely despised the school. His much lighter attitude at the moment was likely a stem of that, although his own personal formalities for introductions and impressions seemed slightly off. For the sake of meeting someone who did seem nice, she could somewhat overlook that all. To an extent, but that doesn't mean she doesn't notice it. She did seem to give a slight bit of a look to him as she eyed his clothing up and down, although that was quickly replaced with her casual smile.

"Fortunately for me, I have motivation besides impressing my people, and quite honestly you won't be seeing me change that. Pleasing my people certainty is a large part of it, pleasing my parents is equally as large." Aleandra somewhat cut herself off there, not wanting to direct the conversation to exposing a bit of her more personal problems with someone she barely just met. If her close friends rarely hear too much about her complaining, why start here? Though, starting off motivations could work quite well.

Adjusting the other cuff of her sleeve, that little habit just kicks in once more as she thinks of what to say, after getting slightly distracted for that quick second. He did somewhat reassure her that she would be doing fine here, which somewhat eased the worry that this whole thing would make her see some more inadequacies within herself. "Ah, thank you."

Haytham extended his hand as greeting, and for a split second she was slightly confused. Introducing his last name with a handshake, well. Culture, maybe, although usually the curtsy was a good greeting. It was customary for duels and sparring matches to end with a handshake, so she wasn't entirely too opposed. Just somewhat taken a bit back. She returned the handshake though promptly returning both her gloved hands behind her back. "Quite equally returned. I hope we can get to know each other better in the future."

All things considered, things seemed to be going well. At least, Ezran thought so. The boy –Brendan, he now knew– was every shade of polite he’d ever seen, and some he hadn’t. Every noble encounter he’d had before was tacked with an obligation to create meaningless small talk, ask about provinces he was hardly aware of, and be regaled with a flurry of information on nameless marriages, scandals, and the like. To meet someone so…accommodating was strange, to say the least. Even Mara seemed a tad surprised, smirk tugging stronger for a moment, like she was trying not to laugh at a joke.

To be honest, paired with his first outreach to another, he wasn’t as drawn to the prospect of continued silence as he was prior. Talking to a Darkthrone noble who’s conversational interests barred on how close the king was and if he could hear them was another matter, but Brendan was not nearly as abrasive.

He still let the silence hang a moment, on reflex alone testing to see if indeed he didn’t prefer it. Perhaps it was just a momentary urge, or he was confusing a desire to socialize with a panic to run away. But, the moments passed and still he found himself at least wanting to listen to the other boy speak. He had a pleasant voice, and in only a few sentences had introduced a story promising plenty of intrigue.

Finally: “I’ve not heard of you,” the words were blunt, an affirmation to Brendan’s query rather than a demeaning statement. “Never met a rogue prince, interesting title. Did you earn it?”

The more he spoke the less confident in his words he was. Was he being too forward? Was there an insult buried in subtext that he wasn’t aware of? He’d never been to Tromania, perhaps there was some custom against curt replies. It would be a lie to say making an offense now would pain him, it was doubtlessly the most effort he’d put into a conversation in months.

Another fact he saw was apparent to Mara, who gave a subtle thumbs-up under her folded arms, then ushered him to continue on.

@Polaris North