"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.

---

”Please don’t make me do this, dad,” Isobel said gently to her father.

“Isobel… please,” her father started, that pained looked she loathed to see in him set in his eyes, practically begging her to not make him repeat the reason of her betrothal. “If it was up to your mother and I you’d be able to marry whoever you like, you know that sweetie. You know I hate this as much as you do, but it’s law.”

”Then change it! You’re the freaking king for heaven’s sake! She’s not the queen anymore. She hasn’t been for 23 years…” she was stopped by that pained smile of her father’s and just gave a sigh. ”I’m sorry dad, I didn’t mean…”

“No, no, it’s okay. You have your mother’s passion,” he gives her a small smile, “I suppose I’m slightly responsible for marrying that. She was always too outspoken for her own good,”

“What was that?” called the voice of Trèlins queen whom had happened to be walking the hallway past Isobel’s room at this point.

“Love you honey!” The king replied, not skipping a beat. Lyndsey poked her head into the doorway.

“I’d hope so,” she replies, shaking her head before turning to her husband. “Come on, I think Isobel’s old enough to pack herself, give your daughter some peace, she’s not a child anymore,” she instructs him, ushering him out of the room and offering her daughter a smile before closing the door behind her.

---

---

The car ride to Aciras was silent, with was odd for the Martinez family. They often spent outings chatting and singing together but not today. Isobel tugged on her dress, much more simplistic than mkst of her unique stuff, some may even go as far to call her creations wacky. It was a casual dress also, not that Isobel was a huge dress wearer. Whether she liked dresses or not baking and shelter building were not activities easily done in dress. Nonetheless this was, to an extent, a casual first meet. She hoped so at least.

Thérèse had refused to say who Isobel was betrothed to, bringing the young woman wave after wave of nervousness. Thérèse held no love for her granddaughter, the feeling was mutual.

As the car pulled up at the castle Isobel stomach was hosting a lot of butterflies, angry butterflies. Her nervousness banged around her insides. With a sigh she ran a hand through her pink hair and ascended the steps, her parents trailing behind. Isobel offered a courteous nod to Niklas but walked over to the crown princess of Aciras.
”Princess Raven,” she greets the young woman with a nod of the head. ”I’m Princess Isobel of Trèlins, nice to meet you. To say I know nothing of you would be a lie but it is an honour to meet you,”
”It’s an honour to meet you,” Isobel wondered if that was even genuine. This was the place she was being forced to marry a stranger, and this young woman was its future, however, Raven was as much in this situation as Isobel. She shouldn't judge so quickly.

---

---

---

---

"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 plum heels clicked against the ground, her golden anklet glistening in the sun. She rose, her body adorned in a simple chiffon halter dress with light frills. 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.

---

---

Niklas König rolled easily out of his residence at the Kingdom of Acrias’s guestroom bed at precisely 6:00 a.m., right when the alarm by the bedside went off. Dressed in nothing but his underpants, he stretched luxuriously- not unlikely a cat- before he ambled over to his closet to get dressed. Not five minutes after he had awoke with military precision, there was a polite knock on the door- followed by the entrance of his bodyguard and military mentor, Albrecht Kühn.

Roughly, in his German-laced English, the wide-shouldered Hauptmann, or Captain, greeted his charge with his usual rumbling and self-assured tone.

“Good morning, herr König. I see you’re already preparing for the meet and greet with the rest of the royalties. It will be an intriguing thing, to see so many children from so many cultures at one place, each with so much influence.”

The soldier paused for a moment, before reconsidering.

“Each with various amounts of influence.”

Niklas gave a wry smile at his guard- a former GSG9 agent, of the elite Konigreich antiterrorist unit- and turned away to finish getting dressed.

“And many of them insignificant in their influence, at that.” He couldn’t help but think a bit lower of those two or three that came from citystates- not real kingdoms. His father ruled over two thousand cities, towns, and villages- and those few came from single cities with the power to stand alone. What significance did they bring? His future saw him placed with the burden to take care of his entire nation, and likely more- there might be as many settlements that he looked over as there were people for one of them.

---

Ten minutes later found Niklas in more or less the same place, but fully clothed in his dress uniform. Black slacks, light steel grey coat uniform, light blue collared shirt, with his few decorations. After a moment’s thought, however, he took all of them off- there was no real procedure for wearing military decorations at a civilian event, and so he thought it wiser if he didn’t have what few he was honored with on his uniform, not for the first meet. The uniform alone would unsettle some of them, he expected. No need to wear his medal-and-rope marksman decoration.

Settled with his wear, he turned on his heel and strode out through the door, closing it softly behind him. He felt rather than heard Albrecht falling into step behind him, from standing guard by his door.

They walked straight-backed, unconsciously in cadence with each other, even if their arms were swinging loosely (though well in time with each other) at their sides. His father, he knew, would not be present for the first few days of the meet and greet- there was critical business that came up last minute, and besides, it’s always better to be a little late to the party. When you’re one of the most important people going, they’re all going to be coming to you- especially if it’s known that you might be leaning one direction or another, and you want to convince him to continue that path, or to switch.

The common palace folk stared at them as they walked; foreign dignitaries walking through the castle as if it were their own, navigating it seamlessly. That was, in part, due to his studying of the castle’s blueprints; he knew where all the major and minor hallways and corridors led, as well as some of the more obvious landmarks and exits. In addition to that, he had a jewel in his ear- something similar to the Bluetooth headsets, but these were strictly Konigreich military hardware- that had a tactical officer on the other side, ready to keep him updated on the profiles of all the royalty present.

By no means was he cheating; he had been working on the files of these royalties for ages, familiarizing himself with the information gathered, whether publically or secretly. The tactical officer was just there to give him reminders; remembering all the details about all the different people would be too difficult on his own. Either way, he thumbed the small switch at the top of his right pocket, and vocalized the words in his native Germanic.

Systems check; everything up and running?

There were several moments of silence before a soft feminine voice seemed to whisper in his ear in the same language- ”Received, Kingsman. Green across the board. I’ve got all the profiles up and maps ready, over.”

Affirmative, Tactical. Stand by.

After another soft affirmative from the tactical officer, Niklas nodded to himself; this would work.

Behind him, Hauptmann Kuhn nodded to himself as well; Niklas was doing everything well. Up right on time, dressed on time, a premature systems check. He approved.

It was at this point that they reached the entry corridor, one of the major hallways that opened out onto the castle’s front lawn from its starting point at the entrance to one of the great halls. Taking this straight outside, he’d meet up with Raven and her royal parents; their hosts for this venture. Her parents weren’t really a concern, right now- they were for his father to deal with, when he finally arrived. He wondered if they were a little steamed, at that- his father not showing up as planned or scheduled. His mother could be excused, of course- she was dead. Probably. No one really knew, and the few that did know will never speak of it- such as his father. But, some secrets have very good reasons to be secret, and thus, should remain as such.

Either way, as he arrived in the entrance where Raven and her parents would be greeting everyone, he gave a small smile and half-bow to the girl before taking his own position. He couldn’t help but eye, her, though, after she had turned away- she looked superb, to speak lightly.

Kuhn chuckled behind him, and Niklas was reminded of his place. Straightening slightly, dusting imaginary dust off his uniform, he took a more respectable position, slightly distanced from the King and Queen of Aciras- whom he greeted, with a fuller bow and a short explanation about his father’s whereabouts. They were both already informed, of course, likely from a personal message straight from his father, Eugéne.

Taking up his position, he stood at the Konigreich’s traditional at-ease stance- feet about a foot from each other, hands clasped behind his back. From here, he waited to greet every one of the guests, next to his people’s allies, the Royalty of Aciras.

He did so with a bow and a smile, a warm greeting and a genuine comment about their clothing. If they approached them- otherwise he just smiled and gave a nod back. Inside, though, he wanted to frown. He wasn’t angry- just disappointed, every time someone dismissed him as… well, less important or not worth the time to approach, and skipped him with only just a glance.

Henry sighed as he sat at a red light, on his way to the castle. Thoughts of that woman flashed through his head. Another sigh. The light turned green, and Henry hit the gas.

What kind of woman would be willing to do this to someone? Even if he wasn't her son, she should have the brains to understand that this isn't right. He berated himself for ever even having thought of mentioning Rosa in the argument. He'd hate to think of what might happen to her later down the road. He'd have to find some way to fix this before she got older.

How would he do this? Hell if Henry knew.

Not to mention his father! What kind of man lets his wife order him around like that! He's so... spineless!

Henry looked down at his speedometer and his eyes went wide. Blinking, he slowly lifted his foot to press it on the break, casually slowing down to a normal speed. Coughing he looked around to see if anyone had caught his... minor mistake. Satisfied that no one had, Henry drove on, arriving a while later.

The car he drove was a red corvette and he was honestly surprised he hadn't been pulled over. Brown dress shoes stepped out of the car, a tall, lanky man followed them. Henry moved his head to each side, stretching his neck before throwing the keys to the servants that came to greet him.

Smiling, he handed them his keys. "I appreciate it. Take it out for spin if you have the time. It's got some kick to it." He told them, chuckling to himself as he walked on. The man's face was kind of priceless.

As he reached the tops of the steps, he stopped and bowed solemnly before the owners of the home. "Greetings." He spoke softly, just loud enough to be heard but soft enough to make others strain to listen. He continued down the line, bowing quietly before heading inside. He wasn't one much for meaningless pleasantries.

Henry made way for the nearest food and grabbed a few sweets to hold in his hand and eat as he watched the room. He held a pleasant smile on his face, his lips sticky from the sweets. From head to toe, he was dressed cleanly, but it also gave off an air of effortlessness. As if the outfit was the most effort he was willing to put into the occasion. He had a sky blue button-up top, a khaki colored sweater, a brown bowtie, beige slacks, and his favorite brown dress shoes. His hair was styled, but lazily so. Honestly, he'd mostly done nothing but get up and get dressed. A slap of gel to his hair put it in it's place, spiked up to a point at the front.

He lifted one hand to scratch at the top of his head. There were already many pretty princesses around but the most interesting individuals had yet to arrive.

---

---

"I'm not a child, Mama. I know how to pick out my own clothes."

Sade sighed in frustration as she sat, legs crossed, on her freshly made bed. A few minutes earlier, everything had been perfectly fine. She'd been packing her things into three very large suitcases. The music was blasting through the speakers, the beat rolling through her as she danced around. She'd just finished zipping up her second suitcase when her mama came bursting in, cutting off her music and thrusting open her closet doors. She'd demanded that Sade empty her luggage and show her what she had packed. "No, no, no," her mama said as Sade showed her the outfits and undergarments she had neatly folded away. "My heavens, Sade," her mama said in her usual thickly accented, stern tone, "You are a princess, for God's sake. Therefore, you have to dress like one." So there she sat, legs crossed and eyes rolling every few seconds, articles of clothing being thrown from the closet, landing into a large pile on the carpet. It wasn't long before her mama emerged, rolling two suitcases behind her, another one strapped over her shoulder.

"Here we are," she said with a huff as she set the bags on the bed next to Sade. "One bag for shoes, heels of course," she said, wiping the sweat from her forehead, "One bag for your undergarments and casual wear, and the last for your evening gowns." Her mama had always been one to over-pack whenever they were to leave the Kingdom. Hell, she could just be visiting a friend from the village for a day and her mama would insist on her bringing more clothes than was necessary. "You must be prepared for everything," she'd always tell her.

"Did you at least throw a pair of my sneakers in there, mama?" Sade groaned as she reached for the first bag's zipper, but was instantly swatted at by her mother.

"What have I told you about that, Abiona? A proper princess of Udawen, does not wear sneakers! Now, go get dressed; the car leaves in an hour." Sade moaned, making a mental note to grab her sneakers and flats before leaving.

Rolling her eyes once last time, Sade hopped out of bed strode into the walk-in closet, grabbing a black and gold dress from off one of the hangers. After getting dressed, with mama's help of course, Sade slowly unwrapped her hair from the gold, silk headscarf and fluffed it out, separating her curls one by one. By the time she'd finished, her mom had sent for one of their servants, Nola, who would being applying her makeup. "Not too much," Sade said as the servant carefully painted her face. Sade loved wearing makeup, especially when she got to apply it herself, but she was careful to not wear too much, as she was easily prone to breakouts. When her makeup was finished, it was finally time to leave. Her mama stood at her bedroom door, tears in her eyes.

"Look at my beautiful girl," she said with a sigh, "If only Khari was here to see you. I know he'd be very proud of his little sister."

That really hit home.

---

---

The closer the car got to the castle, the more nervous Sade became. She was sure excited about getting to spend three whole months in a new place, but just the thought of having to marry a man that she's never met before was mind-boggling. When her parents had first brought it up not too long ago, she wasn't at all enthused. Nevertheless, she agreed, solely because she wanted to prove to her parents that she was indeed ready to be Queen, even if that meant having to marry a man whose identity had yet to be revealed. When the car finally pulled up to the entrance, the driver helped Sade out before getting back in the car and slowly pulling away. Her parents had decided that it was best that she didn't have a body guard nor servant accompanying her; she'd insisted that she wouldn't need anyone "babysitting" her, anyways. At least, not for today, for her parents would not be joining them until later that night.

She stood there for a few seconds, taking in her surroundings and nervously tugging at a strand of hair. From where she was standing, she could see three young women standing at the top of the stairs, one she'd instantly recognized as Princess Raven. Another, with bright colored hair, she also knew to be Princess Isobel, of Trèlins. Before the day had arrived, her father made sure that she'd memorized every face and name of the Prince and Princesses that would also be staying the three months in Aciras. A few names, including the third princess, had already slipped her mind.

Taking a deep breath, Sade ascended the stairs, her black clutch in hand. When she'd reached the top of the stairs, however, the third woman had already gone. After giving a small, but polite curtsy to both the parents of Raven and Niklas, Sade extended a hand to Niklas, smiling her natural, warm smile. "Prince Niklas," she said with a slight tilt of her head, "I am Princess Sade Magoro...of Udawen! It's a great honor to be here." She tried her hardest to make the words sound natural, as if her mama had not forced her to practice saying those exact same words just hours before.

After speaking to Niklas, Sade made her way over to Princess Raven, her smile growing. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Princess," she said, extending her hand to her as well, before following the lead of others and heading inside.

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, and I'll be able to see if the reports are actually true, she reminded herself.

From what she'd seen and read, Niklas was described as an amiable, likable young man, full of charm and wit. Intelligent, too, with military experience as well. But Mai was not so foolish as to believe everything that people said. Being the crown prince of a kingdom with the world's most advanced military required more than just charisma and intelligence. No, there would be a certain cunning that only rulers and politicians and generals had within him too. Mai had spent her life around that lot, for goodness's sake. She of all people would know.

After she had combed her hair until it shone, Mai pinned it out of her face while she went to get dressed. She carefully slipped into the crimson dress that was hanging in the closet, admiring the way that it accentuated her slender waist and long legs and complemented her dark hair. The dress bared one shoulder and featured delicate embroidery and beadwork on the top half. The skirt fell down to the ground, almost covering Mai's feet. It was simple but elegant, and best of all, the long skirt provided her with plenty of room to conceal whatever she would need under it.

Mai sat down again at the vanity and prepared to work magic with her hair. With an arsenal of bobby, hair gel, and combs spread out on the vanity in front of her, Mai eventually managed to tease her hair into a half-up, half-down hairstyle. Mai curled the ends of the tendrils of hair that hung against her back just so, examining her handiwork in the mirror. Satisfied with her hair, 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 arranged them in her hair on the back of her head, crossing them in a manner that reminded Mai of hairstyles that featured two chopsticks in the bun. After ensuring that no parts of the bladed ends were visible, Mai moved on to make-up.

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.

Mai allowed herself a small grin. Despite all his glaring flaws, Mai had grown quite fond of Zhou. She finished touching up the light blush and carefully applied eyeliner and a pale red eyeshadow, dusting her eyelids with the soft hue that set off the inky black of her hair. 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. Coppery-gold bangles went around her bare right wrist 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 two small daggers and concealed them in the bodice of her dress and under her skirt. 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.

Mai stepped out of her room, taking a deep breath. Now that she was quite literally dressed to kill, Mai felt a good deal better. 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. Before they departed, Mai made sure to bang rudely on Zhou's hotel room door and remind him that he had to be at the palace and couldn't sleep until noon like he usually did. 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 in Mai's eyes, 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-Isobel Martinez, of the Kingdom of Trèlins. From the reports, Mai knew that Princess Isobel Martinez was blunt and upfront, with a caring nature (or at least, a caring nature in front of the camera) and a feisty side to her. Mai supposed that the homeless shelters and charitable activities were a good sign, even if they were indeed only meant to make her look good to the rest of the world. Mai thought that the pink-haired princess and Zhou would get along splendidly, despite the fact that the pair had the potential to cause more trouble than she cared to think about.

Some of the other royalty that had stood out in the reports included Cara O'Brien of the Celtic Consortium, Liviana Traianus of Lusitania, Elizaveta Romanova of Noslainia, Caterina Versini of Svearike, Edwin Drakewine of the Empire of Britannia, and of course-how could she forget?-Casimir D'strad of Ortha.

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.

Elizaveta Romanova was almost like your typical eighteenth-century princess, what with her love of classical music and ballroom dancing and horseback riding. However, there was the fact that her father went mad that set her apart. Mai thought that she was very elegant and had the most gorgeous eyes, although she was wary of her. Revolution hardened monarchs; Mai could speak from first-hand experience on that.

The only major item of note about Caterina Versini was the murder of her older sister. She almost felt sorry for Caterina. She had big shoes to fill.

The Empire of Britannia was large, powerful, and expansionist. For that reason, and that reason only, Mai was already on guard every time she even thought of Edwin Drakewine. There were reports about a "forbidden love" with a middle-class girl and her subsequent murder as well. Interesting, Mai thought idly.

Finally, there was Casimir. Mai's lipstick-coated lips twitched slightly at the sides. Everything about Casimir amused her, from his eyeliner (Mai was sure that he owned more eyeliner than she owned make-up, and that was saying something) and flamboyant wardrobe to his wicked grin and honeyed tongue. She recalled her trip to Ortha with a smile. Her uncle had wanted to negotiate a trade agreement with Ortha after all trade virtually stopped in Liang during the political upheaval that had taken place during the first half of Mai's life. So, Ming, Zhou, Mai, and a score of advisers had traveled to Ortha, and one night, Casimir snuck her and Zhou out of the palace to explore the city. Mai had held some reservations about the idea at first (although Zhou had been all for it), but she'd decided that getting to see more of Ortha could do her some good.

Their night out had been surprisingly...fun. Mai couldn't remember the last time she'd had fun before that. She'd felt like a normal teenager sneaking out of the house to go party. They'd wandered through countless flea markets and bazaars, and every time Mai so much as looked in the direction of an item, Casimir had purchased it for her. In fact, she had brought along a few of his gifts with her to Aciras, including the bangles that she was wearing in the present moment. The memories she had of Casimir and Ortha warmed her heart.

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. I will do this. For Liang's sake, I will do this.

Mai walked up the steps, her heels clicking softly against the ground. She arranged her expression in one of polite curiosity, a faint smile on her lips. When she reached the top, where the princess of Aciras was waiting, along with her parents and Niklas-her betrothed-Mai curtsied in the Western style and smiled sweetly. "Greetings, your majesties, Princess Raven, Prince Niklas," she began, her eyes dancing from one face to the next. "My uncle sends his deepest apologies for not attending, and my cousin, Prince Zhou, will arrive shortly." She paused and gauged their reactions-nobody really seemed to care. Of course, that was expected; Mai had known that the King and Queen of Aciras would have already known that Ming Mei would not be present.

Three men walked up the steps behind Mai. Two of them were carrying a rather large jade sculpture, and the third held an oblong box in his hands. Mai gestured to the sculpture. "A token of friendship from Liang to your beautiful kingdom," Mai said as the men laid the sculpture down for the king and queen of Aciras. "It is carved from the finest jade in all of Liang." Princess Raven's most striking feature was her electric blue eyes. Mai thought that she was rather pretty.

Mai turned to the third man and gently took the oblong box from his hands. Inside was an ornamental sword and its matching scabbard. She faced Niklas and smiled. "And here is a gift for you, Prince Niklas," Mai murmured, looking up at his face from under lowered lashes. She did not fail to make note of the military uniform he was wearing, as well as the men in similar dress that accompanied him. She handed the box with the sword inside to Niklas, her hand lingering on his for just one moment too long before she drew away. Niklas was a bespectacled young man with chocolate-brown hair, and although she had seen him in photographs ages before their first official meeting, it was a strange thing to finally encounter him in person. So this is the man who I am to wed. A prince, a military officer, and the heir to the throne of one of the world's largest military superpowers. I can only hope that he is nothing like the soldiers that I've known in my life.

---

---

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 and a small wreath of white flowers dotted around the side 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.

Her eyes flicked around the room, and she was almost certain she knew everyone until she spotted a hulking form against the food table. She didn't know why but she felt she needed to figure out who he was. He had at least a foot on her but that didn't sway her as she wandered across the room to stand beside him.

Her hand hovered over the sweet bowl as if she was silently choosing while in reality, she was trying to get a good look at him. This stranger wouldn't be a stranger for much longer.

---

---

“How dare you go behind my back and arrange a marriage between me and some stranger. Worse yet, you have the audacity to tell me about this only a week before the Grand Ball,” Feora retorts, her voice a mixture of hostility and underlying emotional pain. To say her father King Matthias was shocked by her uncharacteristic display of defiance was a bit of an understatement. His eyes noticeably widened at hearing her outburst. She could see the gears turning in his head as he scrambled for a suitable response.

“It’s too late now to back out. It would be improper,” he responded matter-of-factly. He waved his hand, signifying that he was done with this conversation. However, Feora was far from done.

“Yes because propriety is clearly your strong suite,” Feora snapped, adding insult to injury. “You really don’t know me at all! I have given up so much of myself for the good of this kingdom, and this is the thanks I get. I will not let some man control me and take this kingdom for his own! I am the heir to the throne, and I will be the one to rule, whether I am married or not!”

“YOU WILL DO AS I SAY, FEORA!!” Matthias roared as he slammed his hands on the table before him. Feora visibly flinched. Her father had never yelled at her before. Granted, she had never so openly defied him.

“I will keep up the pretense. Though, as far as I am concerned, our relationship is nothing but a formality,” she stated simply before exiting the room.

---

---

Truthfully Feora’s whole world had shattered that day, and now she was left to pick up the pieces. During the week that followed, she had gone through a whole range of emotions and self-analysis. Whatever confidence or defiance had transpired was hidden behind what felt like an even more guarded exterior. She was torn between duty and the need to control her own life. Well, she had plenty of time for contemplation during the time it took to get to Aciras.

It was a big relief that her father was not accompanying her on this “adventure.” In fact, she had only brought with her a handful of people: her two most trusted guards/chauffeurs Fitzroy and Maxwell, her handmaiden, and her stable hand. She was particularly happy that she was allowed to bring along her beloved Hanoverian gelding Frederick, hence why she required her personal stable hand.

As the castle of Aciras came into view, her nerves resurfaced with a vengeance. She felt like she could face certain death with relative ease, but faced with meeting her betrothed she was done for. She put her hands underneath her legs as they began to shake. Keep it together, Feora, she thought to herself as she took several calming breaths. By the time Fitzroy had the car parked in front of the castle and Maxwell offered his hand to help her get out, she had mostly regained her composure.

Her gold heels clicked lightly as she gracefully walked up the castle steps. She was dressed in a beautiful green and gold lace dress with her hair up in a braided bun. She had on small gold earrings in the shape of a wolf’s head, the emblem of her kingdom Wulfswinth. Her guards, in their military dress uniform flanked her on either side. She smiled kindly to the royal family of Aciras as well as Niklas and Mai as she approached them. “Greetings. I am Princess Feora Isabel Swinth of Wulfswinth. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintances,” she stated before curtsying respectfully. “My gift to you for your hospitability is this finely made and perfectly usable hand-and-a-half sword.” Her guard Maxwell presented them the sword, drawing it out slightly to show them the quality of the blade. Feora curtsied one more time before heading inside.

She entered the room as gracefully and confidently as ever. That was until her eyes landed on her betrothed Prince Henry. Her step faltered. Crap, he’s already here. She fought the childish urges to hide behind her guards and avoid him at all cost.

Nikolai Johanssen

“Isn’t arranged marriage an archaic practice? Who does that anymore?” Bianca, reigning queen of Anduin asked as she watched her son pack his bags for the trip ahead.

“Father, apparently.” Nikolai chuckled in reply. “I don’t mind, really. It may be antiquated practice but it does secure our future and the future of Anduin itself. We are a small kingdom, terribly insignificant compared to the bigger nations in the world. An alliance through marriage will avail us influence and power the same way it is won during war, without bloodshed, of course.”

Bianca beamed at her son. “You grew up into a fine man when I wasn’t looking.” She stood up from her perch on the edge of her son’s bed and approached the tall young man. She reached up and placed a hand on his cheek. “No matter what responsibility you have imposed on you, always remember that you still have your heart to protect.” She said, her blue eyes shone with concern as it looked straight into the blue of her son’s.

Niko smiled and nodded. “I know, mother.” He reassured.

Bianca smiled contentedly before she turned away and headed over to the nearby table where three flat rectangular boxes laid. “I had the gifts for the hosts prepared.”

“And I have this...” Niko raised up a flat, smaller square box. “…for the Grand Duchess.”

“I do hope you get along well with your bethroted. We’ll join you in Aciras in a week’s time.” Bianca said before she walked out of the room.

---

Two hours ago, Anduin’s royal airline landed on Aciras’ tarmac. It took almost 8 hours by plane to get there and the young prince was glad to have finally arrived. While the flight out had been nothing but comfortable, Niko had never enjoyed long flights. He gave his security personnel nods of acknowledgement as he descended the stairs of the plane and got into the black car waiting for him.

He leaned back on the seat of the luxury car as it cruised out of the airport and into streets of Aciras, Anduin’s flags waving from their positions just behind the side mirrors of each car. Niko had four escort cars, two in front and two behind. He also had two local police escort on motorcycles leading in front and two more bringing up the rear.

He watched as people walking on the streets stopped and watched the escorted cars zoom past. Some squinted their eyes trying to catch a glimpse of the foreign guest but the heavily tinted windows made it impossible to see inside.

Half an hour later and the car was pulling into the driveway. One of the men in Niko’s security detail opened the car door and the prince stepped out, his brown dress shoes well polished and shiny. He smoothed out his charcoal grey suit and straightened his dark brown checkered tie. The same man who had opened the door handed the prince the four flat boxes he had brought along for the Aciras royal family and for the Princess of Noslaina. “Thank you, Anthony.”

And without any further ado, he made his way up the steps to greet the hosts, Anthony walking a few steps behind him. Niko’s eyes fell on the royal family, particularly at Princess Raven. “Your majesties.” Niko bowed his head in respect. “I am Nikolai Johanssen from the Kingdom of Anduin. The King and Queen sends their regards and will seek an audience as soon as they arrive in a week’s time.” He smiled. “To show our good will, I brought along tokens from Anduin.” He opened one of the boxes that held a golden pocketwatch carved with Anduin’s coat of arms, the clock face inlaid with small cut sapphires. “For King Alexander.” He said before closing the box and handing it to the waiting hands of the family’s attendant. Niko opened the next box and showcased an elegant necklace with diamonds patterned around like leaves on a branch with a perfectly cut topaz hanging on it. “For Queen Lilliana.” He said before handing the box to the attendant. “And finally, for Princess Raven.” He opened the third box for Raven to see the delicate necklace made entirely of small cut diamonds patterned into small flowers and leaves. A teardrop diamond hung on it. “There are jewelries crafted by the finest jeweller in Anduin, King Alessandro.” The attendant took the third box and Niko bowed his head again. "Thank you for having me here." He said politely before turning his attention to Prince Niklas. "Prince Niklas." He gave him a small bow of acknowledgement before moving on inside to join the rest of the royal guests.

Niko looked around and immediately spotted his bethroted, the Grand Duchess Elizaveta Romanova. She was sitting silently, watching the people around her. With quick strides, he crossed the room towards her. “Hello Princess. I am Nikolai Johanssen of Anduin. May I join you?” He asked.

---

---

New arrivals, Elizaveta knew she had been a tad ahead of schedule when she arrived but she preferred it that way. Some enjoyed coming fashionably late but that was not her way. She liked to see each one enter, to be able to watch them and see their differences. The crown princess of Trelins had been the only one that seemed to arrive before her. Elizaveta couldn't help but smile at the sight of her hair, not that it was comical but that she wore it so well and how it seemed to fit the sparkle in her eyes. Elizaveta would never have felt comfortable in such a shade but it worked for Isobel.

Then after her many had arrived. The first was Niklas dressed befitting that of someone who belonged to a house that ruled over such a large military force. Tilting her head to the side as she peered from her seat she cocked a brow, it was more formal than she would have expected but to each their own. He seemed to great the others warmly, which was kind. She would have to greet him later, she felt it would be rude to walk back out to the greeting line to introduce herself while he was greetings others just because she had arrived before him.

Turning her attention she watched Henry enter and watched him intently as he quickly made a beeline for the table of food and chose a few sweets. It seemed that he was not too interested in greeting the rest that had arrived, making his greeting short and too the point. He looked like he was enjoying the treats that were laid out for those that were arriving with the smile he was holding on his lips. The smile seemed genuine but when it came to good food how could one not smile? Some luxuries in life could brighten up what was sure to be a stressful situation. She was sure she would partake eventually but as another entered her attention was drawn elsewhere.

Her eyes brightened she watched Sade enter. She had read much on the country of Udawen and was intrigued by it and by their princess. It seemed like such a polar opposite to her own. The warmth, the colors, the music, the people; all alive and seeming to be embracing life. She had to admit that the music they were known for was not her most treasured but it made her happy to listen to it while she studied about the nation. It just seemed to have a feeling to it that brightened the soul. She would most definitely have to make time at one point to try to get to know Sade.

As Mai arrived Elizaveta's jaw would have dropped if she were the type to go slack jawed. She looked like a walking doll, absolutely stunning. The red, a color her grandmother all but forbade her to ever wear was worn with pride. As much as a delicate doll that she looked like Elizaveta had no illusions that the woman was not strong in her own right. Elizaveta knew first hand how it was when war tore a nation apart and to loose all those that were the ones that were closest to oneself. It gave the Grand Duchess a strength that she rarely showed, she deducted that Mai could be much the same.

As Cara entered and walked into the room after the formal greetings were taken care of, Elizaveta continued to watch the parade of royalty. She had to give the fiery haired woman kudos for the gown she wore, it set off her eyes brilliantly though she was surprised that Cara had chosen a gown. From what Elizaveta had read, which was not much on the woman's fashion choices, she did not take her for one that would enjoy them much. Though she had to admit, even though she was not brought into the Royal Spotlight like most, she seemed to fit in well even if she did stand out. There was a strength to her that she respected. She wanted to go say hello, like she wished to with the rest, but she remained where she was. More still had yet to arrive and she didn't want to miss a one. Each entrance was truly educational.

Next was Feora and Elizaveta smiled softly. She was far taller than she had imagined, and seemed rather imposing when though she was dressed in lace. The lace oddly made her seem even stronger, like it was a contrast to the woman itself. Wulfswinth was known for its military force and Elizaveta had to assume that with such that she had to potent constitution to be in control of such. Seeing her step falter she wondered why and then turned her head to remember that the woman's betrothed had already arrived. She could not fault her though for the misstep. Had Nikolai been there when she arrived she probably would have done the same.

Her attention had been diverted and when she heard a voice her head turned slowly to look up from her seated position to see her own betrothed standing before. She was truly grateful to be sitting or the small misstep that Feora made would have seen like a perfect toe point to the full out face plant Elizaveta was sure she would have personally taken on seeing him there. She had been expecting to meet him that day, had gone over the situation time and time again in her mind; trying to work out various scenario's and what she would say but it did not matter how much one planned, life liked to catch one by surprise.

Rising from her place as she held her clutch before her she smiled warmly to him, even if there was a bit of nervousness roaming through her azure eyes. Her head bowed respectfully towards him for a moment before she looked back to him. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you Nikolai, please call me Veta," she said in a soft voice, her accent heavy with that of her homelands. "And yes, of course," she said kindly as she motioned for him to join her before seating herself once again, her ankles crossing and tucking just slightly beneath her chair as she sat on its edge.

"If you will spare me a moment before we get to the awkward small talk, I have something I have brought for you," she added in a light voice with a delicate chuckle as she opened her clutch and pulled out a small leather bound journal that looks well written in. Running her fingers over it she glanced back over to him and bit her bottom lip lightly before composing herself fully. "I was trying to figure out what would be an appropriate gift to my betrothed on our first meeting. An arduous task to say the least. What does one get for someone they do not know but must know?" she said before holding it out to him to allow him to take it.

Her palms flashed for a moment as she held the book out to him. Callouses built up on the skin from years of hard labor with helping to rebuilt her nation. There had been rumors in the press that she took a hands on approach to her nation, being in the trenches to personally help rebuild homes and towns when she could. It seemed those rumors were true. Yet there were also a few ink stains on them, which seemed odd. Once he had taken the book she rested her hands back in her lap and took a breath before she explained the simple gift.

"I once read that you enjoy mythology. In Noslainia we have many stories, handed down from generation to generation about how the empire was forged and the world around it. It is something still held very dear to my people. I wished to share that with you as the future Czar. You will have to forgive me, we had none written in your nations language so I had to translate it and write it out myself. It is only one story currently but I hope to add to it over the years for you," she said in a thoughtful voice. She hoped that it was well received. She had thought of giving him one of the Faberge eggs her nation was known for but she wanted to give him something more personal without crossing a romantic line on the first meeting. Within the pages was Elizaveta's script in black ink, the same stained color that was on her left palm. Within the pages was the following mythological tale of her people....


In the olden days, spoken of through the sagas, there were tales woven and spun through the lips of storytellers; legends that became the history of the country of Noslainia, romanticized accounts of their antiquity of their creator Rozhanitzi and the other gods. In such one woven web was the tale of Brizknik and the Lebed'.

Deep beneath the obsidian broken glass surface of deep frozen waters lay the creature Jahelen; a vile beast that slithered his way through the bleak abyss guarding the entrance to the underworld. The realm of the fallen who were forbidden a place with the Rozhanitzi in the sky. Brizknik was said to possess fourteen heads, one for each of the great gods, which rested a top of long necks that weaved through each other like snakes. Each of the heads shielded in razor sharp scales that covered rows of gnawing teeth that could rip through the hulls of the greatest ships like a hot blade to flesh; searing with such a cold that is burned like molten steel. Its serpentine body twisting and cutting through the water like a harpoon through the air, driving it towards its prey and target. Quickly devouring any such that would dare try to enter the underworld un-summoned.

Though after eons of devote service to the Under God Flikz, Brizknik grew bored. The mortals had learned to keep their distance from such a foe and it left Brizknik nothing to fill the time of eternity. That day, the day which the beasts blood lust could no longer be contained it surfaced; breaking through the tides and ice of glaciers above. Ripping into the air and bent on destruction of any sort. It wanted a battle and it would have such. This was what this monster was created for and without death coming to its door step it would seek it out like the moth to the flame.

The Gods fought with such ferocity that they were sure to slay such a beast but when gods create their own demons, their demons become more than the gods themselves. This dark being was formed to keep all from being able to slay its mighty form, even the gods in case of an uprising. What could be done on land or sea to slay such a creation? The answer lay not in the sea or on the land but in the air. The simplest of creatures, the most pure of spirits; the Lebed'. Winged creatures that fluttered on snow-like feathers through the air.

Flocks of them hovered above, out of reach of Brizknik's mighty jaws and then they struck. Nothing but pin pricks to this great monsters hide but one can die a death of a thousand such nips. And so it was, the Lebed' drove Brizknik back beneath the waters surface, back to its den and post to the underworld. One small crystal beak peck at a time, it was driven under. The Lebed' warned Rozhanitzi that Brizknik would rise again and his wrath would not be contained when it happened.

---

---

Interacting with Raven @HaleyTheRandom

---

It was a beautiful morning in the royal city of Juneau. The sun was shining as it always did this time or year. For a few months a year, Pelanor was covered in complete sun light. Anyone who was not from Pelanor usually did not get a lot of sleep during these months. However, people like the Prince managed to get a full night's sleep. He was currently getting read for the trip.

"Rogers! I need to bring that with me! I need to bring that microscope!" Prince John yelled at his tutor turned second father, Rogers. They had been having arguments like this for years. They usually boiled to stating certain things were inappropriate for a future ruler. Usually this lecture was reserved for when John climbed up the palace onto the roof or whenever he tried to bring some wild animal into the palace.

"You do not need to bring a microscope there! What in heaven's name would you need it for?" Rogers countered as he pulled the offending instrument away from his young charge. "You need clothes and such! " He said as he turned his back to go into the closet. John quickly put his tool kit into his suitcase and hid it under some clothes. He looked away trying to look innocent when Rogers came back and placed more clothes in the suitcase. Jack quickly put on a simple buttoned shirt and dress pants. He was not very flashy

Once they were done the pair walked outside of the palace. As usual, the King did not come out to meet them. He had been spending more and more time alone in his rooms. That meant that John had to do more and more work for the kingdom. This betrothal was a great way to help his people. A good alliance was definitely what they needed. He did not like the idea of arranging a marriage but he was desperate.

With a hug from Rogers, John was on his way to the airport. From there he got on the plane and headed south. John quickly began to read a book he had picked up about the kingdom he was heading for. He had always made sure that he was prepared for just about anything that could happen. After five hours of just about nothing, they landed. John put his book away and set off towards the waiting car.

---

---

John got out of the limo bearing the flag of his kingdom on he door. He looked around and whistled softly to himself at the scale of the palace. It was nothing like what they had back home. He confidently walked up to the family of royals and bowed deeply to.

"Thank your majesties for inviting me here." He said to the King and Queen. He remembered Rogers' teachings about being polite. He did not like doing this but his kingdom required it.

His focus turned towards his betrothed, Raven. They had met only once before when his father had sent him south as part of a peace conference.

"Raven, it is wonderful to see you again. You look beautiful." He said before he gave her a nod and walked off. He did not want to get in the way of everyone else. He could talk to her later.He walked off and leaned against one of the nearby walls.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

''I know, ma. I have known for the past couple months.'' Caterina said, hinting at the marriage arranged-- or rather assigned-- to marry as she watched Zoron; Her well-trusted servant zip up her fourth bag that had her heels, flats, and any extra makeup, or toilette necessities. ''I know honey. I am asking for your opinion about it.'' Her mom, Queen Chloe asked as she settled at the end of her daughter's queen sized bed, crossing her legs gracefully. Although the woman was almost in her fifties, she wore her age well. The slight eye wrinkles at the side of her eyes and smile wrinkles just added more personality to the beautiful fair skinned woman with long brown hair, similar to her daughter's. Caterina glanced at her mom and gave her a gentle smile, but it barely flattened her full, pink lips. ''My opinion? As Caterina? Or as future queen?'' Caterina asked, her heavy, Sveariken (Swedish) accent made the words roll off her tongue sounding a little too foreign, although she had been speaking English ever since she was four along side Sveariken.

''You know your sister never thought of herself as two different personalities. You are a future Queen. You are one and the same, Tina.'' The older woman said, her tone softening yet it had an underlying feel of scolding. Caterina took a sharp turn to stare at her mother as she merely signaled for Zoron to go. ''Do. Not. Call. Me. That.'' Caterina warned as the common name rang in her ears. ''I know how and what Amelia was, Ma. Amelia is-- was the queen, but I am not.'' She turned away from her mother, packing some of her vanity things into a backpack. ''Caterina Frenandaz Versini was not born for this.'' Caterina said, her voice slowly turning flat as it had always been.

''But Caterina Frenandaz Versini will be the queen you want her to be. I don't mind an arranged marriage, hasn't life always been arranged for us?'' She said, taking immense pride in her name this time as she slowly turned to her mom, with the same autocratic smile she always wore.

Chloe sighed and got off the bed, knowing that once Caterina took the defensive route there was no way out. She headed to her daughter and slowly wrapped her arms around her daughter's shoulders. Something that did not happen often. ''You will be fine. You are strong.'' She said softly as she pulled back and rubbed her daughter's arms and then held her hands.

''My daughters were both raised to rule.'' Chloe assured with a confident, gentle smile.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The flight from Svearike to the great Aciras took roughly nine hours. Throughout the long flight, Caterina had kept to herself. Although she was surrounded by Zoron and the rest of the jet's staff, she wasn't talking or even responding much. She knew what was to come during the upcoming three months; Lots of questions about Amelia whether spoken or not, she knew what she saw in everyone's eyes around her. It was either pity or distaste; however, she took it upon herself ever since she was fourteen that she would prove everyone and anyone wrong. She was made to be Queen as much as her sister was. During the extensive thinking, she may have fallen asleep for a couple of hours as the long flight seemed to pass a little quicker than she had anticipated. Caterina had never been that far from Svearike, but she had visited almost all nearby kingdoms, including Anduin, where Prince Nikolai Johanssen was from.

She was escorted out of the jet, dressed in black skinny jeans and a simple black chiffon blouse as well as basic white sneakers, her hair pulled up in a high ponytail. She took her sunglasses off, enjoying the soft sun as they slowly dip into winter. Zoron, a fourty five old man with a fit physique and a light beard, smiled down at his Princess. ''You have always loved the sun, haven't you?'' He said with a light grin. Caterina looked at Zoron and smiled with a little nod. ''Who does not.'' She mumbled as she was lead into the black, sedan, elongated car. With her was another black sedan and a significantly bigger car that held her gifts to the royalties of Aciras.

Caterina was first led into one of the biggest hotel of the country, in order to get ready. She decided to get no help for this do-up. Her entrance was going to be dramatic enough as it was planned, so she kept it simple and nice for her look. She slowly slipped on her dark crismon dress that hugged her small curves in all the right places; It stopped right under her knees. She put on her black stilettos that had multiple intertwined crisscrossed designs on her feet. The dress dipped in slightly to showcase enough cleavage, yet it left enough to the imagination. Caterina felt a little exposed with the show of chest and arms with her spaghetti straps, so she threw on a chiffon, black, loose, moving cardigan. She slipped on her dog tag, letting it slide under the dress, for it to look like a simple silver necklace around her neck. She also kept on her usual promise ring that consisted of two little diamonds meeting each other in between the white gold metal wrapped around her ring finger on her right hand.

She scanned herself as she started working on her hair. She slowly made into a soft bun with her long bangs falling on her face, complimenting it. She added a dab of matte, soft nude lipstick as well as a hint of nude eye shadow and thin eyeliner that framed her caramel eyes beautifully. She grabbed her simple, black clutch that held her lipstick and phone. She gave herself a look before announcing she was ready.

Caterina's face looked natural, youthful and soft. The dress and cardigan showcasing her slim physique yet covering it up. Her steps in the heels she wore showcased confidence, elegance, and sophistication. She knew she carried herself well, and she was not afraid to show it.


________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Through the ride from the hotel to the castle, Zoron had helped Caterina review the royalties that were to attend.

''Raven Willow, a people's person, smart, and caring. She is of course the princess of Aciras.''

''Shawn Hunter, a twin to Zachary Hunter, him and his brother are both known for being pranksters. Shawn is--nerdy, yet confident and good looking. He is--- The one. They are the heirs of Avalon.''Caterina said, with a slight hesitation.

''Nikolai Johanseen, of course Prince of Anduin. We met before; I should keep good connections with him. After all, we need to cherish the peace treaty.''

''Elizaveta Romanova..Mai Mei.. Zhou.. Niklas.. Feora.. Isobel...Ariel..Henry..Cara..Casimir..Sade..Edwin..Liviana..Leonardo..Raven.. Yu.. Talya..'' Caterina easily recalled each and everyone of the royals that were to attend, along with a trait or two about them, and how she would come in contact with them.

Zoron smiled and gave her a goofy thumbs up. ''Good job!'' He said before he turned in the passenger's seat and left the princess to her thoughts for the remaining fifteen minutes in the short drive.
________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

The first black car that held her two bodyguards in slim fit, black on black suits stopped in front of the entrance door. They stepped out and announced the arrival of



At the mention of her name, Zoron stepped out and opened the door for his princess. Caterina took her sweet time stepping out of the vehicle, leaving her clutch in the car for now. She stepped out and took swift, flaunted movements closer to the stairs, the swift air letting her light cardigan fly back, showcasing more of her formal, yet appealing stance. She smiled at the royalties that were outside, including King, Queen, Princess of Aciras, as well as, Prince Niklas, and she could spot Dutchess Elizaveta in the back with Prince Nikolai. Her eyes could see a trace of who she assumed were Henry and Cara by the sweets buffet.

''It's such an honor to have your majesties have me here.'' She said, her accent was obvious and attractive to the normal ear, but her voice didn't quiver or lower, yet it held this soft tone. She gave them her best autocratic smile. She took the few steps to be closer to the Royalty of the Aciras. ''I am afraid it is only I for now. The King and Queen send their regards, and they hope to be able to make it by the time for the grand ball.'' She said with a slight, apologizing nod.

''Zoron.'' The Princess mentioned as she barely looked back to her loyal servant. Zoron nodded and mentioned for the five hefty men to unroll the carpet they held. The carpet was handwoven, with only the most extravagant materials. The carpet was obviously heavy and quite large to fit at least a small hall.

''It is our pleasure to gift you, one of the best art works of Svearike, made especially for your majesties. This piece had been in progress for over six months with over sixty of our best maidens working on it, designed by only our elite designers. We really do hope you put it to use.'' She said with a slightly bigger smile of pride. She mentioned for the men to roll it up and carry it into the castle with the help of one of the attendants.

Caterina personally shook hands with the King, Queen, and Princess Raven. At the last one, she covered Raven's hand with her other hand. ''I can not wait for us to have tea together and get to know each other better.'' She said with a smile before heading toward Prince Niklas.

''A pleasure to meet you, Prince Niklas.'' She greeted with the same smile, as she shook his hand and then moved on after her quite dramatic entrance.

Interacting with: Tater (@NarcissisticPotato)

Henry went for the sweet bowl again when he ran out of the batch in his hands and noticed someone also reaching for his precious sweets. He casually slipped a glance her way (he knew it was a her from the delicate nature of her wrist) before returning his gaze to the sweets before him.

...Wait. Who the hell was that?

He turned back to do a double take.

...No way.

He turned back to the sweets dish, a confused look on his face, and then turned back to look at her again.

Cara? Cara Fitzgerald?

...

Fitz?!

He hadn't seen Cara in years. They'd parted ways without even so much as a goodbye. He'd always wondered what she thought happened to him. Hell, he wondered what everyone back then thought had happened to him.

"His mother finally snapped and killed them both."

"The gangs his mom borrowed money from came and killed them."

"He was sold as a servant to pay for all the damages he's ever caused."

Surely they all thought the worst of him. What else could happen to a small boy who had nothing but mysterious money that his mother somehow managed to procure and an urge to cause mayhem?

After a moment of staring at the bowl out of shock, and thinking about how much more attractive Cara had become, Henry suppressed a chuckle. Of all the places to meet her again, it had to be here. Without moving his head, Henry took a glance at Cara, a smirk on his lips. He'd done this several times before but he'd always been too small to do much of anything to her. She'd always gloat that her balance was good enough that he could never knock her over. It was all he could do to suppress the snort coming from his mouth with his hand. Casually, he pushed his hip over to her and bumped her, attempting to knock her off of her balance.

---

---

Niklas greeted people as they came and went, easily, warmly, genuinely, always quick to give a compliment and a quick half-bow.

Then Mai walked up, that... other one flanking her.

He knew what Mai looked like; indeed, he had heard of her a couple times over the years, and he had studied her profile extensively due to her betrothal status. But seeing her in person, especially with the way she was dressed... she was gorgeous, to be frank. All the women here were superb, beautiful, intriguing, but there was a grace and fluidity to Mai that surpassed them all on a totally different playing field.

He nonetheless gave a deep bow when she stopped before him, and taking the proffered sword.

Hells, this was nothing like he'd practiced with- this was a very real, and very different, sword, and it was no one's but his own. It touched him, slightly, to know that this was the first thing that wasn't his own earning, or his family's wealth, but rather a gift from... a person. A very real person, who might be a friend and likely would later be his wife. That's an odd thought.

Nonetheless, he took the sword with near-reverent hands. He didn't dare draw it, not in the presence of so much royalty, and definitely not in the presence of the King and Queen of Aciras- no matter how friendly he was to them, it'd be a major breach in safety to draw a weapon in their presence without their explicit permission.

Quickly, though, he took the sword in his right hand and took hold of Mai's retreating hand with his left.

"My apologies, mi'lady Mei Mai. Allow me to formally introduce myself, even if you already know me- I am Prince Niklas König of Königreich der Welten, and I, as a good man, prince, and soldier, bear the unforgivable burden of having no gift in return to my betrothed. So, I can presently offer you nothing more than my genuine thanks and gratitude, and a token of such."

With that, he leaned down, bringing her hand to his lips, gently kissing the back of her hand, before releasing her.

Straightening, he continued- "No matter what may happen in this great collision of royalties, you have my gratitude, respect, and companionship, should you ever require it. And, more than that, I look forward to getting to know you."

He smiled, then, a warm, sunny thing.

Maybe all this wouldn't be as much of a drag, after all.

With that conversation done, Mai went on inside, as he stood there, waiting to greet more people. He had some fluttery feeling, now, and he ruthlessly forced it down. He was just doing what was proper, what was just right and polite. It wouldn't be right to receive a gift and give nothing back.

He still couldn't help but stare a tiny bit at Mai, as she retreated inside, but Kuhn's rumbling chuckle reminded him of his place, once more.

"That was smooth, Prince. I don't think anything we could've advised you would've been able to top that."

He silently vocalized back, I hope no one else gives me anything.

---

---

Even after sixteen years of it, Liviana was still not entirely used to jolting awake in the pitch dark to searing pain all through her body. She definitely wasn’t expecting a crisis on the one night in her life that she’d not had a maid watching over her, either. As she jolted awake, terror gripped her and she instantly found herself unable to breathe or move or do anything, just immobilized with pain with tears streaming down her face. Aeli would wake up soon, Aeli would get her medicine and hold her until the pain dulled.

But no she wouldn’t; she was half a world away. No one else could help. Liv let out a desperate whine, writhing around as she tried to get a grip on the pain. She was proud, and she was stubborn. She gritted her teeth, stifling her cry, trying to force the rest of her body to relax– as she knew from the past, tensing would only increase the pain, not to mention exacerbate her respiratory issues. Her left hand reached out to the bedside table, fingers closing around the small dish that held a dose of her fastest acting pain medicine (kept by her bed for just this purpose.) She clumsily dropped the tablet into her mouth, holding it under her tongue and counting the seconds, knowing she just had to endure it for three more minutes and then the medicine would start taking effect and she could breathe and think again.

The pain subsided to a dull ache in her chest and bones, likely the best it was going to get. With a muffled whimper the girl tried to roll to her feet – if she was awake, she might as well be up and doing things actively. Of course, pain dulling her mind, she conveniently forgot that she couldn’t just roll to her feet, and so wound up on her knees with her face pressed into the bed, fighting to not pass out or throw up. Finally, shaking and sweating, the small girl forced herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall, chest heaving as she gasped for air.

Gods, it was times like this, alone and shaking and in the dark, that she desperately wished Aelia was with her. One of her best friends and her handmaiden – but Aeli had made the (honorable) decision to stay in Lusitania, as she was heir to her father’s place in the Lusitanian senate. Liv’s parents had, of course, been rather unable to spare any of the household guards (or even servants, for that matter) with the Festival of Spes, not to mention her elder brother’s wedding, coming up.

Or at least that’s what they said. Liv knew that the numbers could have been shifted around a bit, to provide her with at least one escort. It was just a (not-so)-subtle statement that Liv was clearly barely an afterthought.

The girl mentally slapped herself, forcing herself to stop wallowing in pity. Who really cared that she was small and sick and all alone? A true daughter of the empire would not be so saddened by a chance to prove her worth entirely on her own terms.

Emboldened by that thought, Liv forced herself away from the wall, though she nearly fell again. She wobbled to the bathroom, determined that pain or not she was going to look her very best to do pride to her people and her country.

Almost an hour later, as the sun was just peeping over the horizon, a much-refreshed Liv wandered out of the bathroom, standing before the closet, reaching for the dress that she decided she was going to wear for the first meeting with the other royals. A dark violet dress, more or less in the traditional loose tunic style of her people, though the skirt (which only brushed her knees) was far too short for everyday wear in Lusitania. An ivory wrap to cover her otherwise-bare arms and further mask the (lack of) shape of her figure. She laced up her brown leather sandals, a rather delicate pair that only wrapped a few times around her ankles, and quickly slipped her lunula amulet over her head, though she tucked the pendant itself under her dress and wrap, the cold metal kiss of the goddess against her skin to soothe her mind.

She hesitated for a moment, rummaging around to find her makeup bag, then took a seat in front of the mirror. This would be the long part, doing her hair and makeup without Aeli’s skilled hands to help.

As expected, making herself up took more than an hour, but at last she was left with a (somewhat messy, though artfully messy, she told herself) braided updo and a full face of cosmetics: bright gold eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and heavy mascara to make her eyes bigger, a generous dash of blush and highlighter in an effort to bring color to her pale face, and a soft red lipstick. She was actually rather proud of the end result, all things considered... sure, she did still have the size of a child, but at the least she might to a first glance pass as someone sixteen or seventeen.

A soft sigh escaped the girl’s lips as she turned to survey the room, eyeing what all needed to be brought with her. She supposed that in the grand scheme of things she hadn’t brought all that much—just one suitcase of clothing and a duffel bag with all the essential things, plus the cloth-wrapped package that was to be her gift to the royals of Aciras.

With another sigh she levered her duffel bag over her shoulder, though it nearly tipped her over, and grabbed her suitcase, cradling the cloth-of-gold wrapped box under her free arm. Thus encumbered, she proceeded to exit the room.

She’d been staying at a hotel, of course – the shortest available trip from Lusitania to Aciras had been a grand total of sixteen hours, with three layovers, and of course Liv couldn’t have been expected to go to a social gathering after all of that. So instead she’d spent the night at a (thankfully) rather fancy hotel. At least, it was fancy enough to have a limousine service, one of which was reserved for her.

Of course, when she approached the driver she had another problem – he raised an eyebrow at her, incredulous, when she gave him her name, and made no move to do his job.

“My name is Liviana Traianus.” She said, for what seemed the thousandth time, anger making her accent heavier, the words almost unintelligible. The driver stared at her impassively, as ever. Finally in exasperation the girl rummaged through her purse, producing her ID and slapping it down into the driver’s hand. He peered at it for a moment, even passing it under a black light, before finally straightening up and offering the girl a small bow as he passed her card back.

“Forgive me, your highness, but for someone of your station I expected someone a little more…” the driver trailed off for a moment, a bit of a flush coming to his face, and abruptly reached for Liv’s bags, taking them from her (and nearly tipping her over when he took the duffel off of her shoulder) and placing them into the trunk of the vehicle. Then he opened the door for Liv with a slight bow. “Your highness.”

The small girl was debating just not getting in, but she forced herself to be reasonable. Being petty would solve nothing. So she clambered into the limousine with only a muttered ramble.

“Qui superae, dicit... Qui pulcherior? Qui… fortior? melior? Sed di caela mihi ponor… ita maneo.”

Despite her words the girl internally played back the thoughts. Oh, he was right. She was out of her depth and wouldn’t be taken seriously and it was just all a horrible, horrible idea… she thought back to the other girls who were here, thought back to the files that the soldiers back home had printed out for her – she’d insisted on having no part in social media or even the internet at all, out of respect for tradition, so other people would provide her information – Did she really deserve to stand next to Mai Mei, beautiful, graceful Mai Mei who’d successfully led a country through rebellion? All Liv had ever done was cry. Cry and shut people out and break promises – why was she here, amongst these capable, powerful young ladies and gentlemen?

She’d been so lost in thought that she almost didn’t notice that the vehicle’s forward progress had stopped. Not until the limousine driver came to open the door for her, helping her out. Rude and condescending he might have been, but he’d gotten her here safely, and it was always a good idea to give thanks for that. She pressed a semuncia, a small-value copper Lusitanian coin, into his palm. It would be a fascinator more than anything else, but still, it was something.

Then she turned to face the open gates, and the royals waiting inside. As before she was suddenly acutely aware of her vulnerability. What had she been thinking, letting her parents send her alone?

She didn’t even realize she had started walking until she was inside the castle. She didn’t quite know what she was expecting – maybe some hard looks, a few people pointing and a couple snickers. She didn’t expect outright /laughter/ from the press, or the hard, disbelieving stares she could feel burning into her back. As she walked her body tensed – by the time she stood before the king and queen of Aciras, she was holding herself so painfully taut that it seemed as though a gust of wind would provide all the necessary tension to break her spine.

The little girl gave a deep curtsy, carefully holding the box that contained her gift. She held the curtsy for a moment as she spoke softly, her accent very pronounced in her rolling Rs, silent Vs, and odd inflection. Her voice even higher and more shaky than usual. “Your Majesties, your highness. An honor to be here is it- a great honor, to myself and my family and all of my people. I am Liviana Traianus of the Lusitanian Empire. If I may, gifts I have—I have brought gifts for your house, as a mark of the appreciation of my empire.” She flushed as she fumbled her words, realizing that she’d gotten some of her English word order backwards and some of her noun endings wrong. She knelt then, taking the moment as an excuse to look down and make her blush less apparent as she placed the large gold-wrapped bundle on the floor and unwrapped it, revealing a glossy oak case. With shaking fingers she unfastened the latches on it, revealing inside an ornately embellished sword and dagger pair in the style of the ancients. Functional enough, sharp and well-balanced, but more designed as dress pieces, to make a statement.

She would have said more describing her gift, but she didn’t trust herself to not fumble the words. Instead she rose, a bit awkwardly – thankfully, one of the servants of the Aciras nobles rushed forwards to take the box. The moment they did, Liv again offered another curtsy to the hosting nobles and then took her leave, wandering to one of the walls along the side of the room so that she would not be so prominent. Surely if no one could see her they’d stop looking at her, right? Besides, it was always better to observe first… And she had not yet seen her betrothed. The picture from the file was ingrained in her memory, had been for the better part of a month. She was sure she would recognize him the moment he arrived.

"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.

And his betrothed...

Well, it would be an interesting meeting to say the least. He had read about her and her condition and - What a merry pair of fools they would look together, him towering over her.

He waited for any other introductions and conversation to die down before stepping forwards and bowing deeply. "My gracious hosts; I am elated to make your acquaintance. I am Edwin, King of Anatolia and Heir to the Crown of Britannia. I come heralding gifts for our hosts for my father the Emperor sends an oil tanker filled with our product to reach you."

There were perks to owning one the majority of the worlds reserves of crude oil whether directly (Their Empire spanned the Arabian peninsula and most of the middle east) or indirectly (for example, the Kingdom of Arboles which spanned some of northern south America was quite firmly under Britannian influence ever since the South Atlantic Trade pact. It's oil was now extracted by the West Indian Trading company).  They lacked any political control of the North American supplies, a fact which weighed heavily on their decisions. Despite that, they had more than a little control over the supply of oil and as it was hard for a first world kingdom to run without oil Britannia had become absurdly rich and acquired a reputation for ruthless - And sometimes bloody- business. Indeed, he knew of more than a few plans...

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 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...

He turned and walked slowly, scanning the faces for his betrothed - He Cathy sight of her eventually and moved towards her. He bit his lip in nervousness and found himself having some trouble with fully comprehending his situation. She actually looked like a young child, how could he be expected to-

He out the thought out of his head as he reached her and gave a small bow and paused for a moment as if thinking before finally speaking "Ave Liviana. It's a pleasure to meet you at last, the light of lights smiles upon this hour of our meeting." He said as he rose back to his full height and looked her up and down - And realised the difference in height was indeed very pronounced

---

---

She woke with a start, the sound of the alarm ringing through the room. No sooner than that did Marissa, the girls handmaiden, come in. The young, blonde woman slung open the curtains of the large window opposite of the room, as Ariel fought for more sleep, putting a pillow over her head. "Come now, Serafina. It's the day that you travel to Aciras." As soon as the words were out of Marissas mouth, the covers were pulled off of Ariels body, the coolness of the room surrounding her as she was ripped from her warm cocoon.

"Five more minutes, please, I'm begging you, Marissa."

"And as usual, I am saying no, now get up."

Reluctantly, Ariel got out of bed and stretched. Marissa pulled out a dress from the closet, something dark red. "What about this one?"

"Heavens no. At least let me get a shower first before you begin with the formalities of girling me up."

She heard Marissa chuckle as she slipped out of the room and into the bathroom. Doing her usual morning routine of showering, brushing her teeth and drying her hair, Ariel would come back into the room, her robe wrapped around her as Marissa patiently waited.

"Marissa, how many times do I have to tell you I can dress myself?"

"Serafina, how many times has your father told you that you simply can't wear all back?"

"How many times have I not listened," she retorted. How dare she bring up her father.

Ariel herself walked over to the closet, browsing her choices. Black, red, navy blue... and then, she seen it. The black, somewhat lace-y dress. Pulling it out of the closet and laying it one the bed. Marissa eyed it disapprovingly. "Oh come on, Mar. It's classy in it's own way, sort of shameless... it's me in a dress."

Marissa sighed. "Fine, fine," she said with the wave of a hand. "Come on, let me zip you in." Ariel smiled a small smile of triumph. Switching out the robe for the dress she was now stepping into, Marissa behind her to zip the back up just after she slipped the straps over her shoulders. "Now, how are we doing your hair today?"

"I'm.. not quite sure. A french braid, maybe?"

Marissa nodded, steering Ariel towards the vanity table. Sitting in front of the mirror, Ariel couldn't help but think if her face was that of a queen. She wasn't exceptionally pretty. Cute, maybe, adorable at absolute best. She tried to call up small details about her betrothed. Caismir was his name, if she remembered correctly. He was creative, so that was a plus, but, from the picture that she had seen, he just simply wasn't her type. While Marissa braided her hair strategically with her nimble fingers, Ariel would pick up her phone off the table and start up her playlist, sticking her earbuds in her ears. Just the thought of all of the royals being all in one place made her stomach flutter. She needed to clear her head. Putting her playlist on shuffle, the first song to come on would be Lost In Stereo, by All Time Low. Soon, she was lost in the song. Just as it was coming to an end, the other girl took out her earbuds for her, snatching the phone from her hand.

"Hey! The freak was that for, Mar?!"

"Oh hush. You need to be here mentally today, not somewhere else."

To late for that, she thought. She took a deep breath. "Could you leave me be to o my own make-up, at least."

Marissa rolled her eyes. "When should I tell your father you will be ready?"

"Give me thirty minutes. If I'm not down by then, just come and remind me that I'm going to be on a plane to another version of hell in less than two hours." The other girl looked at her questionably. "Oh, come on Mar. You know how I feel about this. Father arranged for me to be married, all while killing of Lucas. Granted he had no idea about us. And then you have the fact that I have to act classy for three months."

"Whatever you say, Princess. I'll be back up to collect you in a bit." And with that, she went out of the room.

Ariel picked up her mascara, applying it to her lashes before grabbing her eyeliner and applying it as well. She wasn't in the mood for anything fancy today, so, she picked up her palate of black eyeshadow and applied it as well. No lipstick was needed. The girl didn't feel the need to overdue it. All in all, it took her only ten minutes. She put in one of her favorite pairs of earrings, and, last but not least, a bracelet on her right wrist. Her nails had been painted the precious night. Luckily, she had already packed, which gave her something less to worry about. With a tad of dread, she walked out of her room and down the stairs to the double doors of the castle that led to the outside world. Walking through the doors she would spot her father getting into the limousine, and was escorted to the vehicle by the royal guards.

---

---

The ride to the airport was silent, just the same for the flight and ride to Aciras. Pulling up in front of the Castle, her father would speak to her for the first time this morning. "Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she responded, her voice quite. Her father exiting the car first, Ariel quickly slipped out right behind him. She could see that some of the royals had already arrived. She approached the entrance, her father making small talk with the king and queen. She curtsied before the young woman that had to be Princess Raven and the young man by her side who she assumed was Niklas. "It is a pleasure to meet you both Princess Raven, Prince Niklas. I am Serafina Ariel Gray of the Kingdom of Norden. I look forward to getting to know you both a great deal over the next few months." She walked through the large double doors into the main room where she seen most of the people whom had already arrived.

The girl with that pink hair was Isobel, the only other royal other than the Hunter twins she even actually knew. Then there was Elizaveta. Was it really that possible to look that elegant just while having a simple conversation. Honestly, Ariel admired her for it. Next that she noticed was a boy that she assumed was Henry. She had hardly done any reading through the files. How she remembered all of them she had no earthly idea. She also spotted John, and, of course, the brown haired beauty, Caterina. Cara O'brien, however, was absolutely stunning in that green dress of hers. The color looked like it was made for her. Then there was Henry and the girl that had to be Liviana. She also spotted Mai, who looked like she was dressed to kill with quite an amazing outfit. Nikolai and Feora was here as well. Last but not least, she spotted Sade, who was walking in about the same time as herself. She gave the girl a small wave.

Nikolai Johanssen

---

Interacting with: @Lady Amalthea

---

“I am very pleased to finally meet you as well, Veta. Please, call me Niko.” Niko gave his bethroted a polite smile before he sat himself beside her. He watched her silently. Elizaveta was as beautiful as she was in the photos that he had browsed through to prepare for the royalties’ meet and greet. He honestly had no idea what to expect but he was pleasantly surprised by the simplicity of the young woman sitting beside him. He had half expected a lavishly dressed princess with perfectly manicured and moisturized hands. But here she was sitting beside him in a simple but stylish dress. He appreciated simplicity as he himself wore no extravagant jewelries on his person. To him, simplicity was elegant and the most appealing.

He watched the way she moved. Her movements were refined and graceful despite the nervousness he can see in her blue eyes. He let her continue speaking without interrupting and was surprised when she handed him a gift. He had not expected his future bride to come bearing gifts for him.

He placed the flat white box on his lap as he took the small, leather bound journal she handed him. He looked at it as he listened to her speak, flipping open to the first page. The page was filled with elegant handwriting in black ink. He noticed the ink smudge on her left hand and couldn’t resist smiling in both amusement and gratitude. A warm, friendlier smile spread across his face and lit up his blue eyes. A personally translated text. It was a thoughtful gift and one he was sure he will cherish. His eyes moved back and forth the pages, devouring the story. Within a few minutes, he had finished reading and closed the book. He placed a hand on it, his long slender fingers curling around the edges. “I appreciate this gift, Veta. It is very thoughtful. Thank you. I believe, though, that it may have outdone the gift I had prepared for you.”

He took up the flat white box engraved with Anduin’s crest and presented it to his future queen. “As you may already know, I come from a long line of jewellers and it is the primary trade of my kingdom.” He opened the box, revealing another necklace. It was a stunning handcrafted piece. The entire length of the necklace including the clasp were inlaid with diamonds that sparkled in the light. Several tear shaped diamonds hung at the front, ending with larger cut dark sapphires. “It may not be perfect and it is not crafted by Anduin’s finest jeweller, but it was crafted with you in mind.” It was a piece that he had been working on for almost four months. When he had found out who it was that he was bethroted to, he had automatically chose the dark sapphires for the finishing touches. “I hope you find it to your liking.” He passed the open box to the Duchess.

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Fareeha Amari was not amused.

She was trying her very best to stare down her mother, Ana Amari, who was doing her very best to stare her down.

They had been as such for the past ten minutes, in one of the many staring contests that they’ve had since she’s spent more time home than at university or in the military. Fareeha didn’t much like being reigned in by her mother. Her father didn’t seem to care too terribly much- he just enjoyed having her around.

”Fareeha, do not argue with me on this. You are wearing this tomorrow, period, end of story. You must appear the part of a true heir to Mamlakat Alssahra- not just another princess.”

”…No. I am wearing what I picked out. You even said that I could pick out my own wardrobe, mother!”

”Do not call me mother, Fareeha, it makes me sound old.”

”You are old, mother. You’re fifty two. And I am not wearing that- I am wearing my wardrobe. Like you said I could.”

Her mother waved it aside, and frowned at Fareeha’s donning of her sunglasses.

”I’m still twenty eight, and I haven’t aged once in the past twenty four years. And yes, I said that- but you’re wearing this on the first day. Mother’s orders, father’s orders. We both agreed that it’d be the best first impression representation.”

Fareeha huffed, crossing her arms. She picked out a beautiful dress and everything, something that should’ve satisfied both her parents and her own self. She was her own person- why couldn’t she make all her own decisions?

She pointedly ignored the whisper in her head, which pointed out that she had been doing that since she was five.

She turned away, showing her back to her mother, and reluctantly gave in.

”Fine, mother. You win. I’ll wear it, but after that, it’s my own wardrobe. You’re on a suggestion-only basis after that.” Fareeha knew that if her mother really wanted it, there wasn’t much she could do to stop her. Either way, she was going to try to make a stand.

All she received in return was a light, rich laugh. ”I know, my beautiful daisy. Pack up, now, you have a long trip ahead of you.”

As her mother left her room, she thought she heard her laugh again, as she walked farther away, and a whisper-

”Mother knows best.”

---

---

Fareeha Amari disliked the Mamlakat Alssahra Embassy, in Aciras. It wasn’t that it was ugly, or uncomfortable- it really wasn’t- but rather the lack of vigor in all the people working there. There really wasn’t much to do, after all, besides the usual paperwork and such. Field agents were, as she knew, constantly gathering information that had to be sorted and analyzed, but they were searching for underground activity, by any major player- namely terrorists.

It was all in a day’s work, and Fareeha was the only interesting thing to happen to the Ambassador and his staff for over a year.

So it was natural that he tried his best to try and get to know her, after a seven hour flight and two hours of packing before that.

But Fareeha knew the ins and outs of diplomacy, and politely declined his invitations for dinner, or tea, or coffee, or conversation- repeatedly. And then she went through the same process with the younger, bolder aides and agents that were stationed at the embassy, who thought that they had a chance with her.

Fareeha was exhausted, and wanted desperately to punch the most insolent of the young agents- even if he was three years older than her. At least she told him off, for being so disrespectful and crude. But no, she couldn’t punch them; that would cause an incident that would blemish her reputation.

Her reputation.

Her reputation is exactly what she wanted it to be- punching someone wouldn’t hurt it, it’d reinforce it. But she guessed it’d tear the young agent’s reputation apart, and so it was… sort of okay.

She rubbed her face. It had been a long day. She’d much rather run four miles than sit on a plane for nearly twice as many hours.

Tomorrow.

That was what really mattered here, but she didn’t care very much. She didn’t really need to be here- she could find a perfectly suitable partner back at the homeland, but nope! She needed to come here, and get shackled down to some bumbling fool from a foreign nation to split their power and waste both of their lives.

But it needed to be done. So she’d do it. They were only prominent because eccentric people- who seemed to make up the majority of the wealthy people in this world- love exotic pets, and because they are the largest producers of refined oil, in its various forms, rather than any political, military, or cultural significance. Her parents thought it was time to change that- by marrying her off to someone else, and then working out whatever awkward and weird situation that follows. What if she married another only child- they’d both have to run their nations, and they’d be married. Which country would they live in? How would they balance things out? Ra preserve her husband if he decided to take on ‘the responsibility’ of leading both of their nations- that’ll never happen with her still breathing.

But it might not matter, and even though she wouldn’t admit it to herself, it scared her.

So she’ll just have to avoid getting married. Come home, explain that everyone else was already interested in someone else, and then try and find someone normal to marry before the next royal convergence begins. Or just bury herself in the military- that would be nicer.

Such a thing was not an option, though. She was a princess, she needed to be royal and all.

She fell back in the embassy’s royal suite’s grand bed, and closed her eyes, sprawled all across the neutral western bedspread. Tomorrow was a new day, and she could make it better. Unfortunately, that would be a real piece of work. She preferred simple soldiers or professors and students over the politics and hierarchy abundant in the palace for a reason- it was easier, and punching someone that was your equal was rather satisfying.

---

---

She didn’t like the dress because her mother made her wear it, not because it wasn’t beautiful. She, personally, loved the hell out of the dresses that were good and traditional back home- they were simpler, they had some shiny stuff around the neck, and then they would wear some more shiny stuff around their neck! It was simple, and it wouldn’t make her trip (she was never good with the dresses that had tons of fabric), and yet it was elegant and complex enough to be beautiful and unique.

But her mother made her wear it, and she wanted to wear her dress. So that was off-putting.

She was currently in her armored limousine, with an entourage of two armored cars and four Aciras motorcycle police officers, two in the front, two in the back, leading the way and clearing the highways. One armored car in front of the limo, one armored car behind. Both of them appeared to be just normal, stereotypically black FBI-ish SUVs, but they were strong enough to take a 25mm high-velocity round to the rear or front and keep going- and the limo was slightly more reinforced, based on the six inches between the exterior and the interior of the car.

It was… not even twenty minutes past the door-opening at the palace. That wasn’t too late, was it? She had left half an hour before, and the embassy was far enough away, and the traffic was so heavy at this hour in the morning, that even a bit of a headstart was slowed down and became nil.

Nonetheless, they soon arrived! Fareeha was busy trying to take a nap when her escort- a man she respected greatly, for he had been her main ‘special combat’ instructor back at home, when she was training to be in the Defense Force- nudged her awake. She respected the man greatly, and would jump into a pit of boiling lava if he said it was the best thing to do, but this was sort-of her show, now, and therefore, she wasn’t going to stand at attention at all times in his presence.

He was mildly amused, of course.

Nonetheless, Fareeha straightened her white, golden-accented dress, which opened up on the back rather attractively, and brushed her slightly-messed straightened hair behind her shoulders, making sure her lapis necklace was righted and in plain sight. With that, she gave the head of her favorite little snake, her ball python Hadi. “Calm Spirit” the snake was wrapped warmly and comfortably around her right wrist, her offhand side, his little head pointed towards her, his two-foot-long body secure. It hadn’t occurred to her, despite reading about everyone, that Niklas König was absolutely terrified of snakes.

Having finished her little bit of refreshment, she exited the limo, just as it came to a stop at the end of the walkway leading up to the Aciras palace. Like she had the day before when she arrived, she found it to be almost chilly, so different it was from the normally 95-degree-plus heat that ruled the year back home. The Aciras police had pulled off as they entered the gates of the palace, and so it was only the two armored cars that flanked her limo.

Out from one of them came an animal keeper- one that was wearing a very thick raptor glove. The man with the glove- in the desert-mottled-tan of the Mamlakat Alssahra’s Defense Force, like almost everyone else- held a moderately-sized wedge-tailed eagle on his left-hand glove. With his right, he had another glove- one the right size for Fareeha. As he approached, he handed Fareeha here glove, which she dutifully slid onto her left hand as well.

Even though the eagle eyed Hadi curiously, with more than innocent interest, she didn’t make any move to bite the reptile, knowing her place and knowing what is and isn’t food. It instead looked to the sky, as she carefully stepped from the man’s glove to Fareeha’s, prompted by a whispered order.

Fareeha now properly geared, with large raptor glove on her left, Hadi the royal python on her right, dress and necklace at the ready, and soft white slippers on her feet (she hated high heels, both because of her balance issues with them on, and because she couldn’t possibly fight with them on), and shoulder-neck-upper-arm scars displayed proudly to the air, she checked one last thing- a quick glance at the black, unyielding, reflective surface of the limo told her that her Eye of Horus tattoo was perfectly fine, sitting there on the left side of her face, right under her eye. Perfect. Fareeha began the walk up to her hosts- the King and Queen of Aciras, with their daughter, the beautiful Princess Raven, and their ally and friend, Prince Niklas König.

Niklas watched with interested, Mai and Liviana disappearing behind him (this goes on the basis that the Niklas-Mai interaction has already finished, as well as Liv’s greeting). Good.

Having finally approached the four royals, she inclined her head slightly as she stiffened in place, and bowed from the waist to a precise 45 degree angle. Normally, girls courtesy, but soldiers bow- and so she bowed. With that, she began speaking, rich and vibrant.

”Greetings, Leaders of Aciras, King Alexander, and Queen Lilliana. It is my honor and pleasure to finally meet the two of you in person. Princess Raven, you as well! A pleasure to be of acquaintance to such a lady. And Prince Niklas Konig, an honor to finally meet you as well! I look forward to sparring with you someday.”

Fareeha, throughout it all, had a mildly pleased smile on her face, almost delicate in its gentle curve, but with a certain firmness that suggested that everything she did and said was deliberate- that she said it as she meant it, and she moved like she meant it.

And so it was with that she brought her left hand forward, barking at low volume, command-style, ”Takun muaththiratan!”

At the command, the wedge-tailed eagle, who had been eyeing the royal family warily and curiously, raised both of her wings and stretched them out, in an almost luxurious fashion. At the same moment, she extended her neck and preened, her eyes closing slightly from basking in the sun.

As the hawk settled again, Fareeha continued- ”A gift to His and Her Majesty, from Almakat Alssahra, my homeland, the Kingdom of the Desert. I hope that this fine desert hawk would be be sufficient gift for the leaders of such a beautiful land.”

Her smile widened, slightly, and a little more warmth seeped into it, just a little bit more than previously. She loved her animals, and this one she had raised from birth.

”For the duration of my stay, one of my escorts will help train one of your people in the ins and outs of taking care of this beautiful raptor- who is unnamed, and was specially bred as a gift to your people.” That wasn’t entirely true, but the hawk was better suited to this environment than the other animals she had at home.

”Thank you for welcoming into your home. Tasahhibuk alssalama- peace be with you, King Alexander, Queen Lilliana.”

And with that, she passed on hawk and glove to her escort, and passed on into the inner palace.

She prided herself on noticing all sorts of details- like how both Princess Raven and Prince Niklas eyed Hadi with dread and fear.

---

---

She swept into the great hall behind Princess Mai of Liang and Princess Liviana of Lusitania like a step backward into the past. If that made any sense.

Nonetheless, she looked over the great hall with her chin raised, confidence radiating from her. If one didn’t know better, you’d think she owned the place. Her step didn’t even falter as she started curving slightly...

...for the food table. It took less than fifteen seconds to stride right up to it, and pop a random sweet in her mouth. She momentarily ignored the green-clad redhead Cara and her boyfriend (seriously, how was that super subtle hip-bump a sign of anything but boyfriend-girlfriend-to-be? Fareeha knew their history) while her eyes widened in surprise at how sweet it was. They had sweets back at home, but this was sweet. And it was so good.

She stuffed a half dozen into her mouth immediately afterwards.

It took her several moments to compose herself from trying so many of the same thing at once, but once she regained her posture, she turned around, and looked around for someone to talk to. There were so many royals, and so little time…

But there was Ariel, standing alone and looking around like Fareeha was.

Mentally shrugging, she marched right up to Ariel, and stood with her hands on her hips, Hadi flickering his tongue in mild annoyance at the sudden movement.

”So you’re Princess Serafina Gray. Mind if I call you Ariel? I’m ‘Princess’ Fareeha Amari, but do just call me Fareeha.”