100th Annual Cendrillion Ball

[Pretzel Heart]

On the edge of an eclipse, a world in stasis waits for the
Primum Movens

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What little girl hasn't, at some point, dreamt of becoming the princess of a fairytale kingdom, where magic and princes abound?

Maybe little girls that know better.

Little girls that realize every world has its stories.

Every country has its politics.​

Every fairytale has its dark side.
​

AAAAA

AAAAA

Welcome to Roserasia . . .

A continent where magic flowed freely within the earth and the creatures who lived upon it. Their ability to channel this magic through song and dance rituals fostered a deep bond between the living folk and the land. These first inhabitants, the most magically powerful race, were neither entirely human nor animal, having features of both. Over time, however, as some became more ‘settled,’ their connection to nature weaned, they lost much of their magic, and became progressively more human. Another branch, today called arie, remained dedicated to their connection to the earth, retaining some magical powers, and adapting to become more animalistic in their appearance. The arie were vastly outnumbered by the humans who had begun to claim Roserasia as their own. By the time humanity lost all ability to perform magic, their animal traits had disappeared, and they divided up the continent into several kingdoms to consolidate their power. A minority, the remaining arie were made to join the human kingdoms as well, their traditions dying but their faith unshaken. Still, the humans' heritage was not completely foregone, with song and dance remaining an important part of their society, determining rank and an important part of courting. All the while, the arie carried out their rituals the best they could under the new rule, in designated areas on certain days, or in secret.

Roserasia is now comprised of the small Dukedom of Dorimun and Galleria Countship, the newly-christened Sea Republic, the ailing Greedo Kingdom, the United States of Rameria, the steadily improving Nezzie Kingdom, and the Lepumir Kingdom, which contains the highest aria population ratio and the remaining practitioners of the oldest kind of magic: Witches. The most powerful and influential kingdom of them all, however, is the Euthalia Kingdom. It presides as the unofficial head of the continent, and is in charge of the most land, the most resources, and the most manpower, and is thus usually the first to step in at conflict. They also hold the annual Cendrillon Ball, a month-long politicized celebration for the countries to send Representatives to socialize with each other, enjoy various festivities, and dance at events.

The arie were peaceful, and said little as the humans did what they wanted with the land. But as time went on and the humans’ laws and settlements began to weaken and restrict arien magic, tensions rose. While arie still live alongside humans, they lack political influence, and most hold simple jobs performing the spells that their societies rely on. In addition to the maintenance of human machinery - which operates mainly through magic - arie make magical clothing to be used in dancing, maintain forests and gardens, and serve the people with their power, despite being unable to attain high ranks of their own. With this being the way of the world, it was only a matter of time until a spark was ignited. Having the highest population of arie, the Lepumir Kingdom was home to the start of the Rebellion. The royal family was overthrown, the prince went missing, and many humans were killed, with only a few able to flee to surrounding countries for asylum.

News of the Rebellion spread throughout Roserasia, and people began to become stratified over the issue. While some believe the arie deserve a place of their own, others think the arie only want undue power, and that their killing was senseless and cruel. Facing mounting pressure, the Euthalia Kingdom hesitates to say anything at all. But with the Cendrillon Ball looming ever closer, it seems they’ll have to take a stance soon.

The princess of the Euthalia Kingdom, however, never had a flair for politics nor dance, and wants nothing to do with the commotion. To escape, she recruits a look-alike from an alternate universe, our world, to take her place. Knowing nothing of the Rebellion, this replacement believes that she has landed in the middle of a fairytale, and is instructed to find a dance partner for the Cendrillon Ball. The opinion of whoever courts her, however, may determine what position Euthalia takes in the face of the controversy, deciding the fates of millions across the continent.

In this RP, you will have the chance to participate in the Cendrillon Ball and the hot political climate that surrounds it. Will you join the side of the arie as a human sympathizer? A Witch who stills practices the most ancient and powerful magic forms? A member of the Rebellion? A servant at Waltz Castle? Or perhaps an everyday subjugated citizen of the Euthalia Kingdom, just trying to stay alive in the best way you know how?

Or will you join as a human, either as a Representative or member of the Euthalia Kingdom? Or even the replacement princess who has no idea what she's just gotten herself into? The choices that will determine the fate of Roserasia and its people are up to you...​

Euthalia Kingdom​

The largest country in all Roserasia, Euthalia is the heart of the land and enjoys peace and prosperity far from the Rebellion, ruling from the beautiful and impenetrable Waltz Castle. However, the Euthalian Court is worried about what the future may bring, and is considering taking a stance on arien rights which could either bring peace to all Roserasia or plunge the continent into war. Harmonious and prosperous, Euthalia hosts the annual month-long Cendrillon Ball in the capital of Saint Lyon, inviting Representatives from all over the world to compete in the friendly dance competition that crowns the event. This marks the first year that Euthalia's princess will participate, placing her on the global stage for all to see. The pressure was too great for the laid-back princess, so she decided to let someone else do the heavy lifting for her, recruiting a doppelgänger from another world

This is where most of the RP will take place, and, likely, if you are not playing a Representative or a member of the Rebellion, your character will be from here.

The Euthalian Court consists of:
1 King, 1 Queen, 1 Princess

There are also an assortment of other roles at Waltz Castle:
Princess's Servant, Guard(s), Servant(s), Dance Instructor​

United States of Rameria​

A proud country of equal opportunity, Rameria decided on its own terms to neutralize its monarchy, ending in a "Peaceful Revolution." However, the country is still largely ruled by the president, who also happens to be the former king. It is speculated that the stepping down of the monarchy was only a surface-level ruse to put the public at ease, but if so, that places the president's heir in a difficult position, were he aspiring to rule. At the present, representatives from each state, including some arie, sit in the Senate. Still, the president chose to send his own son to be their Representative for the Cendrillon Ball this year, perhaps hoping to consolidate the family's power once more.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Rameria is sending:
1 Senator (former Prince)​

Galleria Countship​

The second smallest country in Roserasia, Galleria is very insular and steeped in tradition. They are particularly noted for their dedication to the art of dance, with the noble family boasting a long line of Dance Heritage and Cendrillon Ball winners.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Galleria is sending:
1 Viscount
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Greedo Kingdom​

One of the few smaller kingdoms on Roserasia, the Greedo line was founded by a breakaway of the Euthalian Court many years ago. They have retained peaceful ties with the nearby Euthalia Kingdom, however, and hold a relative position of power...perhaps being a bit overly dependent upon their northern neighbors. Now, though, the kingdom is in a state of decline, symbolized by the younger princess's failing health. This has put increased pressure on the prince to ensure the kingdom's economic prosperity and continue the family line. They are noted for their beautiful natural scenery.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Greedo is sending:
1 Prince, 1 Princess (she is in the Euthalia Kingdom to get medical treatment during the Ball)
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Marine Queendom​

The Marine Queendom is the only country to be represented at the Cendrillon Ball this year which does not exist on Roserasia. Like the Greedo Kingdom, the Marine royal line was established by a breakaway member of the Euthalian Court, however, the relationship between the two families has been very unfriendly. Trying to put an end to the feud, this is the first time a Representative from Marine has been invited since the Ball's genesis. Because of years of lost contact, not much is known about the Marine Queendom's place in the world, or how they have been managing their own affairs.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Marine is sending:
1 Princess
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Dorimun Dukedom​

The smallest of all countries in Roserasia is the Dorimun Dukedom. Since they are a very tiny island that relies heavily on arien magic, they have the most to gain by forming a partnership with Euthalia. They have a variety of traditions that may be seen as odd to people born in other lands. This is also the location of one of the only, and certainly the largest, oldest, and most respected, school for arien magics: Wright Academy.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Dorimun is sending:
1 Viscount​

Sea Republic​

The history of the Sea Republic is rife with controversy. Formerly the large and impressive Cesar Kingdom, the country sought to challenge Waltz Castle's rule. They went into battle unprepared, resulting in a humiliating slaughter and Euthalia deftly proving its superiority. The young queen's life was lost in the revolution, and the nobility was dismantled into a two-core council system which answers directly to Euthalian nobility. To avenge their older sister and try and gain back favor for their country, the former princes have decided to join in the fight for the Euthalian Princess's alliance.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Sea is sending:
1 Traditionalist East Sea Councilman (former Prince), 1 Liberal West Sea Councilman (former Prince)
​

Nezzie Kingdom​

Being the closest to the Lepumir Kingdom, the Nezzie Kingdom was most impacted by the Rebellion. Many refugees from Lepumir have fled to its lands, both human and arien alike. The Nezzie Kingdom has been seeking to expand its borders, and now has the perfect reason to do so, with talk that they might set their sights on Lepumir. For this reason the Rebellion has its eyes on Nezzie, and it will be dangerous for their Representative to make it all the way to Saint Lyon. Still, it is a journey of the utmost political importance, as support from the Euthalia Court would both help to stave off the Rebellion and make possible their dreams of invasion.

The Nezzie Kingdom is also this year's hosts for the annual Thorarinn-Fulco Dance Heritage Competition, and has suspiciously elected to hold it during Euthalia's Cendrillon Ball.

To represent them at the Cendrillon Ball, Nezzie is sending:
1 Prince
​

Lepumir Kingdom​

Once a tranquil and sleepy kingdom, Lepumir was the site of the start of the Rebellion and has since fallen into arien control. Many of the more violent arie have flocked to its borders, which have proudly offered to accept anyone of arien descent. The king and queen were sacrificed in the Rebellion, but the whereabouts of the prince are currently unknown. There are rumors flying about that perhaps he survived, and people wonder if he could possibly put a stop to the violence. The Lepumir Kingdom, being an ancient land of great magical power, is also where the remaining Witches live.

Noteworthy members of Lepumir include:
Leader of the Rebellion, Prince (Missing), Witches
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GMs for this RP will be the handsome and talented Pretzel Heart and the kind of ok I guess wizard nibblers ;p
Loosely inspired by the Nintendo DS game 'Princess Debut.' No knowledge of said game is required. In fact, this game is pretty much trash, so it's probably best not to play it.
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[Pretzel Heart]

Preparations for the 100th Annual Cendrillion Ball are Underway!


Opening ceremonies will start shortly. Take care not to be murdered by a roaming band of rebel supporters on your way to Saint Lyon.
We are sure you definitely don't want to miss this year's event.

​

 

[Pretzel Heart]

❦ Prelude to a Prologue ❦
"Once upon a midnight dreary . . ."

​

*Press Play* The silver highlight cast by the full moon on this, its strongest of days, at the most mystic of times. The dangerous glint of dew-wet branches as they whipped by. The methodical cadence of the horses as they trailed smoothly over the freshly commissioned and already well-worn road. The impressions of a night that had been hailed by countless a traveler; inauspicious memories of darkness, the things barely noticed, barely seen, easily forgot. Like a shadow flickering in the corner of one's sight, when cast upon, found to be nothing more than a fractional trick of the mind's eye.

Such an ubiquitous image was that of the carriage now trundling its way towards the world's heart; a blooming castle upon a hill, guarded by thorns that only the wiliest of insects had developed, in the dreck, ways to penetrate.

Insects...vermin...creatures of the filth and dark...such things had nothing in common with the pale façade of the glittering figure now ensconced inside that carriage shell. Instead of viscous wings were webs of lace, from matted, disease-ridden pelt to opulent fur and velvet. A grotesque exoskeleton obscured by a mantle of sparkling gems.

And yet, under the shroud of such a night, the veil between the two - prince and vermin - may just be thin enough to branch. But, as with the amorphous shapes passing by his window, only barely illuminated by the dim glow of a precariously jittering candlewick, the young man in the carriage was preoccupied with no such thoughts.

Instead, all of his attention was focused on a leather-bound book now hovering like the moon before his face.

The fine letters that detailed an entire lifetime of memories were nothing but blurred blotches on second hand parchment.

He drew the book closer, his nose tip brushing the rough pages. His eyes focused on the cream colored blurs, and then searched for meaning among the black.

Exactly two inches in front of his face, and the text was clear. His mission. His life. His modus operandi. All of it written in the fine script of his own hand. Any further back, and the meaning vanished. Too close, and the words took on an entirely new significance, full of terror.

"Your Highness, we have arrived."

The carriage pulled to a stop. It was far past dusk and yet too soon for dawn, and the young man couldn't prevent a shade of worry from seeping into his thoughts. They had arrived too early. Would it not look suspicious? Too eager?

No. The prince would have arrived early, regardless. He had been situated close to the border, and couldn't have been in more of a hurry to leave and carry out his sacred mission...

With a sigh the young man closed the book, wrapping the leather strap that bound it as tight as it would stretch and slipping it inside a pocket concealed within his waistcoat. The book that no one must ever see. The words meant only for his eyes. He already planned to never let it leave his sight, not that he had really needed to bring it at all. Countless times reading and reading and reading and reading and reading and reading every page had scripted the tight cursive onto his very brain.

In exchange for the book, he took out a pair of thick, ornate glasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose, waiting for the images around him to clear.

But no, something was wrong...

Removing the glasses once again, hovering them in front of his face at the one distance he could safely examine them, the young man noticed there were still some splotches obscuring the glass. His eyes instinctively darting from side to side, he fished out his pocket handkerchief and wiped the spectacles once again.

Rubbing back and forth.

Over
and
over.

Flecks of dry brown that could have been dirt.

For some reason the spot wasn't coming out.

"Master, is something the matter?"

He jolted upright, thrusting the glasses onto his face and melding back into perfect clarity.

"This isn't Waltz Castle."

"No, we will head there presently. For now I thought it might be wise to...stop here."

A new wave of uncertainty filled the young man, and he poked his head outside. They were still in the forest, moonlight replaced by lanterns floating through the trees. He could hear hushed laughter, like a secret ritual, emanating from somewhere in the shadows nearby.

"And why is this a wiser place to stop than the Princess's Château?"

Just by saying that word - princess - he could feel spill from himself a priceless weightiness as if precious jewels were falling from his lips.

Or maybe not quite jewels. Just little rocks, hiding untold mysteries...

"But Master, don't you think we should---?"

"My orders were to go straight to Waltz Castle. I don't know why you have gotten it into your mind to travel elsewhere. Have you forgotten the gravity of our mission? It's slipups like this which will ruin everything."

The coachman seemed a bit disheartened by his lord's words, and for a second the young man had a flash of recognition, realizing that his servant's day had been just as endless as his own, tirelessly sitting in front of the simple carriage, disguised as a merchant cart lest they run into trouble circling Lepumir, driving forward the horses while always keeping one petrified eye on the unseeable horizon...

"It's fine, Vladimir. We will have time for this sort of thing later. As for now, it's best we get to the castle."

"Of course, Your Highness."

It was strange. Despite his heritage, he was still finding it awkward to be giving out such commanding orders like this. For much of his life he had been locked away thanks to his parent's fretting, and it was only recently that he had decided to take matters into his own hands.

It was times like these that he could feel his own nobility blooming inside him, just like the flowers the prince so tenderly raised.

Cautiously, almost lovingly, his hand came to rest at the spot on his chest where, underneath several layers of satin and silk, the notebook lay.

An hour later and they reached the castle.

As it was too late for the king to give a formal greeting, the young man was contented with being shown his suite by an aria, at least after making sure that his coachman and the few other guards and servants he had brought to accompany him - a so precious few, given that the troops needed all the help they could get maintaining the border - were also accommodated for.

The guest rooms built for the Representatives of Nezzie were one of the furthest back in the Château, followed only by Lepumir in a strange flip-flop of geographical truth, which the young man assumed must be because the designers were keeping an aesthetic eye on the countries' national colors. Still, the sight of the closed door emblazoned with the seal of a silver hare left an empty, unpleasant feeling in his heart. This year, at least, the door would remained unopened, wouldn't it?

No one knew where the prince of Lepumir was...

Trying not to think of such things, he turned his focus towards his own door. For the past one hundred years the nobility of Nezzie had been coming here, for a full month, living in this very house. Thanks to his parents' needlessly worrying over his health, the most recent prince hadn't before had the opportunity. In fact, he had never even been to Euthalia, at least in the realm of recognized memory. As a baby, he was sure he had been brought here to receive the king's blessing, but such a thing would be impossible to recall beyond imagination...

Like the Princess, this Cendrillion Ball would be his own official "coming out" into the world of international politics. And the responsibility hung around him in thick clouds of smoke, far more distressing than the prince's stilted eyesight.

The young man's thoughts turning to the Princess once more, he wondered if, at this hour, she was in her own room in the Château. Surely she must be, carrying out whatever mystic trials women go through on the eve of an important social event. In any case, it would be most improper to go to her now, as much as he wanted to. Under the stillness of darkness, to hold her strong hands again at last after so long---

He wanted to be the first Representative she laid eyes on. He would burn his image into her memory, fill her thoughts with nothing but himself, until his victory for the sake of his people was secured.

She would dance with no one else but him at the crowning event. That was simple destiny.

But in this firm resolving of his mission, the young man couldn't help but let his mind wander around the softness of her eyes that he had last seen so many years ago. The way her lips had flowered as she giggled about the "funny way" he had pronounced the names of her country's beloved flora...

The sight of a sealed envelope caught his eyes and pulled him from such musings. It lay resting innocently on the wide, canopied bed hung with lavenders and blues, and yet he approached it as one approaches a spider. That is, until he spied the royal seal of Euthalia - his body relaxing as he cut through the wax.

An invitation from the king for the banquet tomorrow evening, and promises to officially meet the Princess.

He already knew that he wouldn't be able to wait so long, but it was the promise of things that felt reassuring.

Tomorrow.

From this moment on, he would carry proudly the weight of the Nezzie royal name, as the sole heir of King Yeruslan of the Snowy Stone: His precious only son, Kiefer Avescamp.

All he needed to do now was follow the words that had been written for him in the notebook, and all would come to pass, as it should.

 

[Pretzel Heart]

✥ Prelude to a Prologue ✥
Escape

Status Report

Date: Fengare, Ulmus 30th
Time: Late night (12:00 AM)
Weather: Slight chill, clear sky, full moon

"Princess Evalyn...?"

Fuzzy cream-colored paws gripped the heavy edge of a gilded door as Kip, the poor, beleaguered tutor of Euthalia's sole heir, cautiously peaked his large rodentia ears into the room. It was late, not to mention the fact that Kip had been no slacker when it came to keeping a strict bedtime regiment, so what he was hoping to find was his ward safely tucked beneath her fluffy duvet, getting a full night's rest for what was arguably the most important day of her life.

Of course, Kip could never just have nice things.

As soon as he saw the light was on within, using a strength surprising even himself, the tiny servant flung open the door to find the princess laid amidst a pile of dresses at the foot of a wide open armoire, white lace and pink silk swallowing her whole save for two legs sticking up out of the top. Upon hearing her tutor's entrance, she rocked herself upright, wearing only a chemise with her bright, wild hair askew.

"Are the preparations ready, then?" She asked, grinning widely. "I was just deciding what to wear."

Kip hesitated in a dumbfounded float, not sure whether to be more disappointed, skeptical, or anxious at the indecent creature sprawled on the floor. It was as he feared. She had, of course, not forgotten.

"I am sure I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You know..." the Princess leaned in to whisper, as if there was anyone around in her private quarters in the middle of the night to hear, "the doppelgänger?" She punctuated this last word with a conspicuous wink.

Kip tried to ignore the chill that was turning his fur on end. Despite already knowing that which was inevitable, he decided to disregard the question as well as the princess's falling face as he pointedly made no answer, instead waving his wand over the gowns to have them float back into their proper place in the wardrobe.

"I was just at the Greedo Suite. It seems as if the young Princess Dahlia will be recovered enough to attend the Banquet tomorrow."

Evalyn sat frowning in the midst of the upwards swirling clothes, confused enough at the bait-and-switch to begin introducing caution to her approach.

"That's...good..."

"Yes, I believe it will be. Having a friend for the Ball might help put your mind at ease."

"Mmhmm..."

Making no attempt to disguise the suspicion in her narrowed eyes, the princess grabbed the last of the dresses before magic could hang it upon the rack and began the struggle to pull it on. It wasn't the most luxurious of gowns, but it was comfy. Perfect for, what she hoped would be, a long and exciting adventure.

By this time Kip was at the bed, so used to cleaning up after his charge's messes that it was practically a subconscious series of movements that carried him around her chambers. He suppressed a sigh at the rumpled sheets, wishing to the ancient arien gods that, just once, he could have found Evalyn safely slumbering betwixt their silky billows. However, he could not suppress the disapproving shake of his head at the half-devoured remains of a once proud Mendel, pastel box crumpled and crumbs strewn all over the fine satin pillows.

Almost instinctively the princess stroked a hand through her hair as she followed her tutor's gaze, picking out a few stray crumbs which must have gotten tangled in her tendrils during her fervid passion. Kip had no one to blame but himself for that one. Though he was usually a sharp monitor of Evalyn's voracious appetite, he had thought that the Ramerian treat might perform dual miracles of getting the princess to calm down and subtly reminding her of the advantages of attending the Ball. Instead, she had fallen upon the box like a wild beast half in tears, and Kip had been too scared to do anything but stay far, far away.

It was a well known fact that even the perpetually snacky princess found a way to overeat when she was stressed.

With a wave of his tiny wand, specially manufactured to help powerful arie like himself channel their powers, Kip began to march the crumbs in a trail towards the waste bin as he chattered.

"The Princess Dahlia reminds me a bit of yourself, actually. When you were younger. Not that you've changed much over the years--"

His acute eyes flicked over to catch Evalyn just as she was stuffing a few of the stray Mendel remnants back into her mouth. When their eyes locked she innocently turned upwards as if suddenly the ceiling was the most fascinating thing in the world.

"Well, enough talk. You should be getting your rest. I'll be back early tomorrow morning to wake you for practice. It will be your last chance to dance with Master Celso before the Opening Banquet."

"Kip, quit stalling."

The princess -finally done with being evaded, having her flaws pointed out, the mention of waking up early, and (most offensive of all) the reason for said awakening- had crossed her arms, huffing a few strands of feral hair out of her face as she spoke.

The aria laughed nervously. "Whatever do you mean?" However, it was obvious that the ruse was up, and as he said this his wand froze midair, the crumbs quickly alighting back to their places on the disheveled blankets.

"I mean you're stalling. You promised me, Kip."

With a resigned sigh the aria made his way back to the pouty princess. "I just thought that, by now, you might have...changed your mind...?"

He couldn't help but phrase it as a question, as if in a desparate last-ditch effort for the words to Schrödinger themselves true.

"Then why did you even come? You knew what I would be waiting for."

"I...I merely wished to see that you were resting after..." he glanced one last time at the Mendel ruins, "...last night. Besides, I thought you would be happy to learn about Princess Dahlia."

"I-- I am happy. Of course. That's good for her. But now she's in the clear, you should be worrying about me!"

"Believe me, I never quit worrying..."

"You said the doppelgänger looks exactly like me. You said she even likes dancing!"

"I also said such things were merely legends, Princess."

"A person who shares your face, your soul...someone who can take on your destiny! Well I want to meet her!"

Kip shuddered to hear Evalyn so perfectly repeat his exact words. If only he had kept his furry mouth shut. If only she applied such outstanding memorization to her studies...

"Princess..."

"It's a perfect plan!"

"Look, that...all that was just a joke. I didn't expect for you to believe me to this extent or I would have never even started it--"

"No, it wasn't a joke. I saw you, Kip. You can't weasel your way out of this one."

Kip, for his part, didn't like being compared to a rodent that he was most certain was not in his lineage. But, again, he only had himself to blame for this very serious blunder. Even though he had been so so so very careful...

"And don't forget what I said I'd do if you didn't help me." The princess's eyes got the mischievous, almost terrifying twinkle they did whenever she was staring at a particularly fluffy soufflé. "I'm sure Father would be very interested to know his daughter's tutor is practicing forbidden magic--"

Kip's nervous laughter returned as he silently wondered how this blackmailer was the same girl who used to leave scribbled drawings of bunnified family portraits under his door, clinging to his cape while she mistakenly called him 'Daddy.'

"I said I would help you, Princess, and I meant it. I'm just not so sure this is the best way."

If only he hadn't gotten so careless, reading such a thing in broad daylight. If only she hadn't decided that on that day, of all days, the library was the perfect place to hide from having to go to dance practice. If only he had just learned how to control himself, stopped the experiments while he was still ahead...then they would never even be having this conversation. It was dangerous, Kip had realized, long ago. The princess had to know, sooner or later, that there would come a time when there would be no more failsafes. Wasn't that the most important thing he could impart to her as her tutor? Yet she wasn't just his student, she was also his ward... and if he was being honest with himself, her anguish struck a chord. He could still recall the haunted way her usually bright eyes had stormed with images he had never before seen lurking in that sunny place as she had spilled her woes. And really, could the poor girl be blamed? For years Evalyn had grown up without a care in the world, and now suddenly the entire future of Roserasia had come clamoring down upon her head.

"The Ball won't be so terrible. You'll make new friends. Reunite with old ones."

“But... No! I can’t do it Kip, I won’t!” She threw her fists on the ground in protest, wispy strands of her rat nest hairdo floating as she shook her head. “Everyone expects me to talk and- and dance and- and have all these manners and opinions about the kingdom and to know what to do when all I know is that I just can’t do it!”

“Of course you can.” Kip, seeing yet another problem to fix, grasped a brush from the vanity with both tiny arms and set to work on taming the princess's locks. No matter where she ended up that evening, she couldn't very well go there looking like a vagrant. “What about all your lessons? Everything you’ve worked for up until now, hm? You’re not as bad as you think you are.” He grunted, tiny body maneuvering the brush with a technique developed over years of practice.

Evalyn crossed her arms with a huff. “Yes I am,” she grumbled.

“Really? What about all the other years then? The other balls? Nobody spoke ill of your dancing. And if I recall, the others were charmed by your conversation. You did it then, what’s so different now?” The princess remained silent, grimacing.

"Not to mention you know who will be arriving tomorrow."

"Wha-- I--- Kip!"

Evalyn turned a bright red, standing up so suddenly that her mid-brush attendant was sent spinning back into the air.

"What do you mean bringing that up all of a sudden!"

"It was just a thought. I would think the Ball would go by in a flash if I had something like that to keep me occupied," Kip righted himself as a rare grin spread upon his face. It was time for the final attack... "Aren't you excited to see him after all this time?"

"I...I don't--"

"So you don't still sleep with that thing underneath your pillow? I guess there won't be a problem if I finally throw it out, then. Not to mention what you did with all those letters..."

"Kip!" Her face burning, the princess rushed over to her still-in-shambles bed, relieved to find that her special thing was still in its special place. With a deep breath she erected herself, trying to recover from the humiliation. "I'm going out!"

Adopting a proud slowness, Evalyn strode towards the door...however, once in the frame, she seemed to change her mind. Hand lingering on wood, she half-turned back towards the room.

"Kip, don't you see this is the perfect solution? You won't have to nag at me to go to practice, and everyone will see a princess who is a graceful dancer. Otherwise..."

What Kip wanted to reply was that 'otherwise, they'll see a vibrant, caring young woman who will even consider the craziest of plans if she thinks it's for the good of her people,' but for some reason his voice seemed to catch in his throat, and instead of such comforting words, he found himself muttering a resigned "...so be it."

Instantly the princess leapt back into the room, lighting up as if the aria had just cast one of his illumination spells on her. Before she could do anything more to show her appreciation, however, he held up a paw.

"Just let me get the text from the library, and I'll meet you back here."

What in the world was he doing? Kip didn't even half know himself. The words had just sort of...spilled from him, and now he could scarcely take them back.

At least he had the time it would take to go retrieve the book to mull it over. As he was still new to such spell casting, he felt it best if he had a guide by him, just in case. The magic was, no doubt, sophisticated and required the caster to possess utmost skill and control over their power, but the concept was simple enough in principle. It merely asked of the user to reimagine an entryway (of any sort, really) to be repurposed as the portal one wished to make. While little research was documented on other means of portal magic, the trick to the particular spell that Kip had been researching was to imagine, with perfect clarity, the world in which the caster wished to enter. The way it looked, the cool of the breeze, the feel of the air settling in your lungs...and so forth. The writers of the old tomes had listed worlds they found through trial and error, imagining different sorts of places from tropical landscapes to frozen tundras. The lands they had discovered, however, were somewhat odd in that none of them seemed to be anywhere in Roserasia. But the magic was considered dangerous, as unknown beasts and hazards could emerge from an unattended portal, or they could be developed as an underhanded method of ambushing another country in war, so research on the subject became quickly stifled and was hard to find.

However, Kip had always been enamored with lesser known magical practices (especially when it came to innovative ways of making his job easier), though he was careful to pursue his research rarely and with caution as he couldn't live with himself if his curiosity was not properly dealt with and a dangerous practice fell into the wrong hands. He conducted his own experiments on the portals in secret, flipping through worlds in case one had a supply of the princess's favorite foods, a proper hiding place in case of an emergency, or even a stock of potions that made the drinker go to dance practice. Because of the secretive nature of his studies, he didn't make too much progress, although he did find it curious that many of the people he encountered closely resembled those in other worlds, including his own. That was when he began looking into the myths behind doppelgängers. And on a recent trip to a world described in the books to be rather tame, he had spotted one girl, an exact copy of the princess...though on his return he had been caught redhanded, and the rest is history.

Now it was Kip's turn to hover in the doorway, throwing back one last look at his self-satisfied ward. There was still a chance, he hoped, that she would come to her senses by the time he returned. If only he knew the words to coax her...if only he could somehow show her what he knew to be true.

You don't need a replacement, Evalyn. Can't you see? You may be a bit rough around the edges, but you're a fine princess.

✥ ✥ ✥​

For a good five minutes Evalyn made an earnest effort to properly prepare herself for her trip. She even went so far as to finish cleaning up the mess that Kip, distracted, had neglected to get to. But there had been enough of the Mendel left over that she had, at some point, returned to chomping on it as she perched atop her newly-made bed, now already getting wrinkled afresh. It had really been sweet of Kip to get the pastry for her. They were certainly difficult to come by outside of Rameria.

Rameria...

She couldn't forget what Kip had said.

"You know who will be arriving tomorrow..."

Yeah, and the last thing I need is him seeing me in this state.

With a self-pitying sigh her eyes trailed along the wall, taking in the sparkling trinket that hung there. It was at that point that she could feel her face heating up again, and remembered that she had originally intentioned to go splash some water on herself to cool down. Knowing Kip, he would try and stall as much as possible...or just genuinely get lost in even the Château's humble library. Sometimes size did have its disadvantages, and she was a little ashamed to admit that she had used it to her benefit to escape from him in the past.

Her mind wandered over various things as she left the suite. There was a grandiose bathroom right there attached to her room, and she wasn't sure why she didn't just use it, but perhaps the weight of her decision was finally nestling itself onto her shoulders and she wanted a last look at her home. She hadn't really bothered to ask as many questions about the other world as she probably should have...not that Kip would have told her, anyways. He was trying his best to be tight-lipped about the whole thing, and she couldn't deny feeling a little guilty for forcing as much out of him as she already had. Still, the prospects seemed endless, and exciting, and endlessly exciting! A whole month in another world! One that, likely, no other Roserasian had ever been to before! What kinds of strange and wonderful things would they have there? Dragons, perhaps? What if they had arie who danced and humans who did magic? What if it was an entire world made out of chocolate--

What kind of person would be her doppelgänger be? What if she was dangerous? What if she made things somehow worse?

Maybe there was some truth to what Kip had said...

It would be like letting someone get inside her head, manipulating her body, for an entire month......

But if such a girl was exactly like herself, if they shared a soul, then surely there would be no problem, right? After all, she was her own favorite person.

At this point the rush of a chilly breeze alerted Evalyn to the fact that her meandering had taken her outside. There was a small fountain in the center of the inner courtyard, and she decided to make it her final destination. Like the much larger garden in Waltz Castle proper (of which the princess's was a mere imitation), there were flowers from every country in Roserasia blooming in carefully patterned rows. Year after year she had seen these halls fill with people as culturally colorful as the tiny blossoms, though she had often ignored them to attend to her own amusements. And last year the guilt of being unable to perform her duties had kept her locked inside her rooms for more or less the entire month.

This could be her first and final chance to see all the royal heirs gathered in one place. She had often wondered about them...fantasizing about what they might be like from the rumors she had heard. Dreamt of meeting a particularly charming prince and getting swept away off her feet...

Dreamt of meeting him......

For an early spring night the water was crisp and cold, rubbing any remaining flame from the princess's face. As the pool started to settle she stared down into its undulations. The distorted image who gazed back at her seemed an ill omen.

Suddenly frivolous thoughts of fancy were replaced by reminders of the Rebellion in Lepumir. The way her father's face fell every time he asked to see her dancing progress. The silent impatience behind her instructors' eyes...

"There's no way!"

With frustration she swept at the rippling image, disturbing it even further. For a wild second she felt a sudden impulse to run back to Kip and call the whole thing off. She didn't need a replacement, she would show them all, she would win the prince's heart, she would--

But just as she was halfway to her suite her slippered foot caught the flowing edge of her skirt, sending her toppling into the mud.

Great. Just great. How can anyone expect someone like me to become Queen--

Annoyed at herself as much as anything, the princess fought back tears as she began to wipe the dirt stains from the green crinoline when a voice from above caused her to start.

"My word. I never expected to find you here at such a time." *Press Play*

✥ ✥ ✥

​

Evalyn tilted her face to meet a hand proffered from a tall, reedy man she had never before seen. At least, as far as she could tell, he was a stranger. A long and tattered cloak obscured her from making out the details of his face, giving her the eerie impression that she was being spoken to by a shadow. Hesitantly she reached out, more than a little embarrassed to be caught in such a vulnerable mess, but as their fingers touched the man's cloak swept back far enough for the moonlight to reveal a complex network of scars raking across his tan arm's exposed skin. The sight caught the already incredulous princess off guard, and she instinctively recoiled.

In response the disturbed stranger drew the fabric more tightly around him as an animal tends its wounds.

"I'm sorry..." Was all she could mutter, her attention still focused on identifying who could possibly be in her Château at this time of night.

Yes. Bore into me with your lazer-star eyes. See what I have become. No longer that stuttering fool from the garden...​

“It was never my intention to show you something so unsightly. But it seems as if you’ve had some trouble. If you would allow me, Your Highness?”

The stranger accentuated this request with a surprisingly elegant bow that once more had Evalyn at a loss.

“Well, I---” she sputtered, but without Kip to intercede she wasn't sure what she should do.

The stranger didn't wait. Gently he took her hand- this time careful to keep his defects concealed -guiding her to her feet and back out towards the courtyard's heart.

Even after all this time it was yet the warm, strong hand that had lent him power all those years ago...power that had continued to energize his body through its long toiling to this very eve...​

The princess was quiet, too confused by the swift turning of events on an already chaotic night. But soon she recovered her tongue and began to put it to work, though her protests were still difficultly formed by courtliness. Even if the stranger seemed hardly the type to be of royal blood, with an already dubious track record she could scarcely afford to take any chances.


“Listen, I didn't think anyone would be arriving until tomorrow...”

But they had reached their destination. Throwing open the doors the couple spilled out into the moonlit garden twinkling with the shimmers of faraway stars upon infinite rainbow blossoms. Evalyn couldn't help but feel disheartened that it was still empty, save for the countless silent lives of its delicate flowers and subtle force of its bubbling fountain. The stranger nimbly led the princess back there now, positioning her to sit upon the white marble to be outlined by the splashing water's gleams.

“Don't you know who I am?”

She looked down at the stranger while he worked to remove the stain marks from her dress, still nervously overwhelmed by the unprecedented turn of events. First with Kip, and now...

“It’s fine, even if you do not. I'm sure you will remember soon. Maybe the plants here will remind you. I love them, you know... I love to watch them grow, fight, survive. Even though they’re so fragile...”

He stood, turning to take in the array of colors before him. A small testament to Roserasia’s beauty, all locked up in Euthalia’s little glass cage.

“But now, even with so many flowers before me...” he turned towards Evalyn once again, “you easily outshine them all with your radiance alone.”

In response the “radiant” princess only offered up an awkward smile. She really didn’t know where this was going. He was speaking as if they had met before. Someone obsessed with plants...? Could it be Nezzie's prince? But no...his constitution, his voice...there was no way...but she could scarcely remember the sickly boy...was it really possible had he always been so......like this?

Now he was again offering his hand.

“I've heard you have yet to find a proper dance partner. Shall we change that, here and now?”

The stranger lifted her to her feet without awaiting a response. He placed his hands upon hers in a classical frame.

Except holding her closer.

Much closer.

“Could you imagine, if the two of us danced together, then surely our motion would overshadow these frozen blossoms even more than your beauty does, right now...”

He hovered his face in front of her like the moon hovers before the Earth. He wanted her entire mind to be filled with nothing but images of him, just as she had, for years, continued to illuminate that impenetrable dark in which he lived.​

Hands gripped tightly together.

“This is all a bit...”

She seemed to have finally regained her senses and looked upset to be held thus. But he didn’t want to let her go. Not now, not when he finally had her...not when he was so close...​

The stranger's body pushed to be even nearer, causing Evalyn's legs to bump against the seat of the fountain. Flecks of the glittering water began to flick at her like minuscule whips.


"What's wrong? Don't you know? This is your destiny. You...me...there is no point in trying to fight it. You may wait the thirty days, if you'd like, but no matter what you do, no matter where you run, no matter who tries to come between us, the outcome will always be the same. And I--"

His lips were so close to her ear that his words came out in hisses. Nothing he was saying made any sense, and yet Evalyn couldn't prevent her stomach from churning at the whisper of his voice.

“E-Enough!”

Finally the princess pushed herself away, leaving the man looking stricken like a beaten dog. But she didn’t have time for this. She didn’t have the patience for any of this.

That’s it that's it! I can’t do this! Kip, where in Roserasia are you?

With thoughts only of fleeing from the dark garden and the even darker stranger, the emerald figured darted into the night.

Leaving the young man all alone, stranded in the silver shadows of the moon.

✥ ✥ ✥​

Nope. Nope nope no. Absolutely not. Nopity nopity no. One more no for good measure. Did I mention no? I’ll do it again. No. Oh, no. Heck no. Please no. The princess’s thoughts ran in circles like children around a maypole of ‘no’, wrapping ribbons around it woven with threads of ‘absolutely not’ and ‘not a chance’ as she darted out of the garden and back down the corridor towards her suite. This was it. This was the sign she was waiting for. Manners? Sure. Talking? Okay. Dancing? Well… If she must. But getting dragged around by a weird man with a creepy gaze who she may or may not have met once in her life trying to shove his lips on her face? Nuh uh. Not today. Literally any other scenario in any other universe in any other dimension would be better than this.

...Okay, maybe there were worse things that could happen. But the list was short. She blamed herself for letting it get as far as it did, but before she could ponder it further, she suddenly collided with a book-toting aria floating in midair, who fell backwards with a squeak.

“Kip! There is no way I am spending a month with someone like that in my castle. Absolutely no chance.”

“Princess, what happened?” Kip said, sitting up slowly and straightening his knocked-askew glasses, voice weary from being bumped into so suddenly.

"No time. Look, just get me out of here. Please." The more the princess talked, the more her panic over the situation morphed to fear, fear of the stranger, the banquet, the guests and the dancing and the whole month.

"Princess, if something happened, we need to alert the--"

But his green eyes were already upon the very large, very noticeable, and very forbidden book clutched in his paws. Maybe getting authorities involved wasn't the smartest course of action. Desperate times called for desperate measures Assuring the princess’ health and safety was his most important duty, after all, and at a time like this, perhaps the best way to do that was to just let her hide.

"Alright. Your room should be safe. We can do it in there."

The princess’s mounting anxiety led her to the verge of tears by the time Kip began to speak, and she was already spilling out protests before she could register that he had agreed. But as she was switching gears to thank him, a methodical beat of approaching footsteps made her eyes go wide.

"It can't be..."

She wasn't about to stick around to find out. Evalyn darted past and her tutor was all too happy to follow. If the footsteps were more than a trick of her hysteria, she couldn't tell from the deafening echoes of her own pounding soles.

At last the pair burst into the suite, slamming the door behind them. As the princess heaved over the unnatural exercise, Kip flicked his wand at the entranceway until he heard the satisfying click of a lock.

"That should buy us some time. Gather your things while I ready the spell."

He decided to use the doors of the armoire, thinking that likely no one would find it in the short time they would be away. How long would this take? Could he even convince this doppelgänger to follow him? What if this world wasn't as safe as he thought? But, he supposed, using all his strength to open the large doors, if the other girl had been raised there, perhaps it wasn't all too bad. It was hard to believe, but possibly, at this point, it may even be better than the castle.

Besides, he could check in on the princess whenever he had a free moment.

Evalyn had set about putting together the tiny pack she had earlier amassed. She was still in a half daze, having to take in so much all at once--

But suddenly her frantic mind was calmed by the peaceful beauty of a song. Turning, she saw Kip's eyes closed as if he was deep in thought, and she could tell he was concentrating greatly to produce the enchanting sound. The ritualistic melody seemed to harken back to an ancient voice, being rent from the very fabrics of space and time itself.

The bureau shook as the images in the aria's head began to materialize, swirling out from a shimmering, technicolor vortex into vague shapes...a quaint house in an arid climate, dry winds blowing down a path...

"Alright. Ready, Princess?"

Instead of answering, Evalyn grabbed Kip and flung the two of them into the void, leaving nothing but an empty room behind.

Some of this writing is credited to wizard nibblers ; pastiche created by Pretzel Heart ​

 

[Pretzel Heart]

100th Annual Cendrillion Ball ~ Day 1: Overture

Awakening

​

​

Status Report

Date: Iliosae, Cariya 1st
Time: Early morning (6:00 AM)
Weather: Warm with a cool breeze, slight haze

*Press Play* In complete ignorance of the dark chaos that had dampened the night before, the fresh spring air of dawn was decorated by a crisp sweetness- as if, instead of breathing in, one was biting a ripened apple, each intake of the lungs punctuated by a satisfying crunch, and the wisps of wind against skin not unlike fresh juice seeping from a wounded fruit. It was a sweetness masking a tension, as if the apple was that which hangs before Tantalus - in full view, but forever out of reach. Or perhaps, to bite into it would be to find a rotten core, long ago eaten hollow from the inside. Not unlike the husk of a dreamy kingdom living off a long paralyzed world.

In staunch denial of nature's urge to action, an aging man stood leaning heavily against a stone balustrade trying to sap what little he could from the blossoming morn. The candied charm of birds flitting through the air. The flower buds tentatively opening, setting about their daily work of perfuming the city. But after so many years of watching these same, faded mornings, one after another, the man felt nothing.

Nothing if not tired - it had been another tortured night. Thoughts had run heavy on his mind for decades, to the point where even in sleep they could not be abandoned. Sometimes he wondered how he had even the strength to lift himself from his bed at all, even if only to be lead somewhere quiet like this to rest.

An old man should be allowed his rest...

His life had been a long and eventful one, but now his skin felt frailer than the clothing that adorned it, and his features, though once described as carved from ice, now sagged as the cracks that had spread through that ice had widened into chasms of skin, aging his appearance beyond even his years.

In the end he was just an old, worn out man like countless other men who may have woken early to take in the morning. However, among the numberless men of the world, only one could stand so framed against the burgeoning skyline of the waking Saint Lyon. For in all Roserasia, only one existed who had a right to this very view which the old man's unmoved eyes took for granted.

That one was King Regis Mutto, the ruler of Euthalia, and thus the most powerful individual in the entire world.

Or at least, he should be.

These days he was no longer sure.

The Regis Mutto of today felt a lifetime away from the conqueror who had calmly laid the foolish Ceasar Rebellion to rest. He hadn't been the one to execute the leaders, but he had hovered behind the front lines during the battle, and when it came time for the punishments to be doled, he had sat staunchly in front of the dias. Under the gently swaying tassels of a silken canopy he had been sheltered from the blood-staining, just as he had subconsciously tried to shelter his daughter's face as she had sat, tiny, beside him. A sign of absolute power and control that would continue throughout the bloodline.

And today, that little girl who had shrunk in her seat with hands before her eyes would be forced to face her people, as the official hostess of the centennial Cendrillion Ball. It was a position her mother had last held ten years before, and now, finally, it was their daughter's chance to awaken, called forth by destiny just as the countless city folk were being pulled into the monotony of the everyday from the last comforts of sleep.

"Your Majesty, may I entreat upon your confidence?"

With a sigh that was more like a grunt the king turned his head, locating a finely dressed aria stuttered in the entryway.

"Join me, Balthasar. How are the preparations going?"

"Everything is underway. I have received confirmation that several of the Representatives have already arrived and have been situated in their rooms in the Château."

"Excellent. Don't forget to deliver them all the invitations to the Opening Banquet."

"The maids have already taken care of it."

King Regis nodded in approval. It was just like his majordomo to be one step ahead, or, more typically, ten. However, it did not escape his notice that Balthasar looked particularly skittish today; his unwillingness to let his whisker-framed eyes meet his king's seemed to be not from reverence alone.

"Our daughter isn't giving you any trouble, is she?"

"No...no, not at all." The king looked as if still haunted by whatever images traced his sleep. Balthasar had been there to wake him every morning since his coronation, and so he knew the weight of such an expression well. This was no time to bring up the fact that not only had the princess, once again, skipped out on her dance lesson, but she was nowhere to be found on the castle grounds.

Truly, Balthasar's quick mind was already thinking of any number of excuses he could play upon later in the afternoon to get Princess Evalyn out of conducting the traditional opening dance displayed by the Ball's official hostess altogether.

As for now, however, of utmost importance was attending to his king.

"There's just been no end of work to make sure this year's celebrations are deserving of their title. Though it should promise to be quite the event. I have even heard some interesting talk as to whom we might expect to be in attendance."

For a moment a shadow passed over the king's face.

"Nothing from the North, We would hope."

"No...No, I meant nothing of that nature."

It wasn't the first time such unspoken fears had found their way to a verbal life in Waltz Castle. Despite the fact that preparations for this year's Ball, being the tradition's centennial as well as the princess's first, were bigger and more fantastical than ever, the unease of Lepumir's plight had spread like a poison throughout all Roserasia, and it was only a matter of time before that poison pierced straight through to the continent's heart.

"He would have been just returning home..."

Looking out once more towards the blooming Saint Lyon, the king couldn't help but bring to mind the quaint smile of Prince Lysander as he had accepted the grand prize at last year's crowning event.

Arien rebels had slaughtered his parents shortly thereafter.

Trying in his skillful way to steer the conversation to lighter thoughts, Balthasar continued to speak of the word around town.

"Have you heard the rumors about the Knight of the Lady?"

"That peasant talk? Why?"

Balthasar thought that the king sounded a bit too eager to have an excuse not to converse on the Rebellion, but he also couldn't blame him. Even as an aria himself, the majordomo couldn't bear to imagine the violence, despite the fact that it was exactly such imaginings that devilishly snuck into his mind late at night. He still couldn't fathom how, after endless years of peace between races, someone would want to stir up trouble now, of all times? Under his own beloved king...

"Well, my daughter tells me there are whispers of someone who fits his appearance nearing Saint Lyon."

"Perhaps he will show up for the Ball," the king observed, though Balthasar thought the proposal sounded rather in jest, "though I don't know why a knight would be bothering with such a thing, at such a time..."

"This year, certainly, everyone will want to come and pay homage to our lovely hostess?"

The king nodded, already lost in thought much deeper than the run of the conversation.

"Yes...Our daughter......This year will certainly be a stand out event. Anyone could show up...anything could happen......"

Noticing that the King was somewhere else, somewhere far away from the balcony on which they now stood, Balthazar just respectfully dipped his head. He was about to make his way back to the castle proper when the king surprised him by continuing.

"If one of Our people does see someone of note in town, make sure to pass them on an invitation as well. It will be a good show, perhaps, to have more than just the typical Representatives at the feast. From what I've gathered, the cooks have prepared enough to handle it."

"Certainly, your Majesty."

With that, seeing as the king had fallen silent and returned to his perch, Balthazar took his orders with him and politely bowed his way out of the room.

His Majesty was most certainly correct. At this year's Cendrillion, anything could happen. Ever since the Rebellion Roserasia had been thrown into a sickly stasis. Perhaps this event would be just loud enough to knock the continent back onto a future path...

And which path it would take, as many were aware, would be resting almost entirely on a single soul...Princess Evalyn Euthalia.

With a sigh Balthasar withdrew a prettily folded handkerchief to wipe the rare drop of sweat from his brow. Though once in a while a flicker of jealousy had ignited in him at the royal tutor's magical flairs, the majordomo had truly never envied Kip his position.

That girl had better turn up before the Banquet. His Majesty can't take another humiliation.

Folding the cloth neatly back into his breast pocket, Balthasar straightened himself and stepped commandingly back into the bustling fray of Waltz Castle, already thick with last-minute preparations.

"Why are you dawdling!? Those flowers should have been hung three days ago! We will have more guests tonight, so double our food orders! You there, I heard someone saw dust in the Marine Suite. Get to work!"

Yes, it was certainly going to be an eventful month...

✥ ✥ ✥

Now it's Your Turn


For your opening post, you may talk about your character's arrival in Saint Lyon. As Cendrillion is a big event for the city, the arrival of the year's Representatives is something of an affair. Your character may find themselves to be a sudden celebrity, bombarded with curious onlookers and new fans...however, each attendee will get their chance in the limelight later on if for now you'd prefer to stay incognito. If you are a Representative, you will have a room prepared for you in the Princess' Château. If you'd like to find out more about these rooms and the Château itself, you may do so here. Servants have their own separate quarters at the back of Waltz Castle. Guards also have their own barracks off the west side. Each of these are communal with the exception of those in the higher ranks, such as the Captain of the Guard and the Majordomo. In your character's room they may find an invitation stamped with the royal Euthalian seal from the King to attend the "Opening Banquet" this evening at 7:00 PM:​

From His Royal Majesty, King Regis Mutto of the Thorny Throne,

Welcome to this year's Cendrillion Ball. As is customary, We will be hosting an Opening Banquet for all of the Representatives of Roserasia who have come to stay with Us for this event. The first course will start at 7:00 PM, just after sunset.

As for entertainment, Our lovely daughter will be showcasing her dancing skills with assistance from the Royal Dance Instructor. We have high hopes for this year's crowning event: The Cendrillion Ball proper.

In any case, We are delighted to welcome so many fine youths of Roserasia in this troubled time, so over these next weeks, please enjoy all Saint Lyon has to offer to your hearts' contents.

Signed,

King Regis Mutto Euthalia​

​

If you are not a Representative, you may write about running into a member of Euthalia's Royal Guard or a royal servant who will also give you an invitation, if you'd like. In any case, the Opening Banquet is where the 'plot' will begin, so you might need some excuse to attend in order not to get stranded, though we will do our best to accompany everyone's expectations.

Happy RPing!

@ParadoxalPaladin @Unwavering Knight @Ranulf01 The Succubi Queen Olissa Orikanyo Rapror Augustine Peppermint Patty Renn Skye hosaki @theglassangel Syrenrei
​

 

[Unwavering Knight]

For the Lady.

The foe was ascertained, steel-gaze rigidly affixed on the wooden skin, frame silent and still. An iron claw opened, sharp fingers flexing to emit a series of clicks, before the entire gargantuan body was forced into rapid motion, charging as thunderous steps rocked the street and elicited gasps from the puzzled passersby.

A little girl looking up at the willow began to doubt her request.

Steel talons ripped into the bark with dull crunch, the tree's crown shaking wildly as the behemoth tore his way upwards, armored hands forcing hold when none could be found, a shower of leaves and wooden splinters sent flying as the knight vanished in the labyrinth of twigs, a series of breaking bark betraying his unwavering advance. With another final crunch the figure emerged near the top, the armored form crouched on a thin branch that one would have thought to be unable to hold the steel-clad giant's weight.

A mewling intoned, pathetic and frightened, followed by a futile hiss.

The silent gaze lowered itself, coming to rest upon the small feline creature. Slowly, deliberately, the knight climbed and clawed his way across the branch, coming to a halt just before the small beast, which now seemed to contemplate if risking the fall might be safer. Slowly the armored frame crouched further down, claws ripping into the lumber, poised like a predator ready to pounce, neck stretching as the helmeted visage inspected the furry creature on an even level.

The cat hissed, recoiling even further, inching ever closer to the edge.

A claw was ripped from the wood and sped forth, iron hold clasping firmly around the feline beast's neck, ignoring the attempts of futile resistance. Without emitting another sound, the knight released his grip from the branch, momentarily falling freely before impacting on the earth with the free claw ripping into the muddy ground to absorb the landing.

Standing up, Helbrecht quietly strode over to the girl, handing over the kitten, alive and intact. The child could only clutch her pet tightly to her chest as she stared up at the armored giant with hesitant wonder on her face, bits and pieces of bark and leaves still clinging to the knight's plates.

"It is done, milady." A harsh voice emanated from the helmet, gaining a metallic grating through the faceplate "Farewell." Striking a perfect ninety degree turn, the knight walked off with an even gait.

Fortunate, that...

Having barely entered Saint Lyon under the watchful gaze of suspicious guards, with vocal remindings that any attempts at disturbing the capital's good folk would be met with swift justice, already Helbrecht encountered a needy soul, staring up at one of the trees specifcially grown for their aesthetics to enrich the street. The owners of these feline creatures that appeared to spontaneousely lose their capability for calculating proper heights appeared to be the sort that derived pleasure from pain...

A good angle, to be sure.

The knight himself, with no other cries for help immediately audible, finally allowed his helmeted gaze to wander, across the crowding market-stands growing with ever more appraisals of the passersby that equally arrived in anticipation of the nearing Cendrillon Ball. It told finally Euthalia's Princess would make her royal word known, with her father certain to make a choice as per her designs upon the congregation of nobles that was gathering.

So many of comely flesh and blood, gathering to dance, to bicker, to prosper...

Helbrecht's gaze drew upwards sharply, fixating on the towering walls of the castle that easily dominated the timid housings gathering in its shadow. Waltz Castle. The proverbial aim of many of his strivings. And perhaps, finally, a fruit for his search. A boon for the Quest.

The knight's gait gained a strange sway, the sort a relieved traveler might betray after having walked for quite long, with only now the end of the road in sight. It had been a long journey, after all...

 

[ParadoxalPaladin]

Asuran Dorix​

Ulmus 29th, Sunset​

As darkness fell upon the lands of Dorimun, the final wisps of sunlight making their way into the chambers of Asuran Dorix were just enough for him to observe himself in the mirror and not like what he saw. His face was grim with the stresses of preparing for the Ball, and the bags under his eyes and the grey in his hair betrayed that which he refused to admit: his responsibilities were getting to him. Work just to establish trade with a small portion of the countries of Roserasia and get Dorimun to have at least some influence upon international politics was both slow going and extremely tough, as there was little reason for most countries to even send goods to Dorimun, as far out of the way as it is. The ball, he mused, would at least provide some welcome rest. Although there is of course yet more to be done there. Shaking himself from his thoughts, he checked that his coat was properly buttoned and sword securely strapped to his right hip one last time before exiting his quarters. The lack of the weight of a cloak on his shoulders made Asuran uncomfortable, but he pushed the feelings from his mind, knowing that such heavy clothing wouldn't be necessary farther north, especially as summer approached.

Walking down the steps within the keep, Asuran knocked upon the door of guard's quarters before pushing the door open and stepping in. The small squad of men who would be travelling with him were already armored and armed, prepared for the trip, as he had expected them to be. At his question of "Everyone ready to go?" after a chorus of affirmations they all rose to their feet and followed him out of the room.

The heavy wooden door of the keep crashed shut behind them as the Duke stepped out into what was now the quickly darkening night along with his soldiers. A small group of servants huddled around his lavishly made carriage, making last minute preparations and additions to what would be brought, but quickly finished their work and scurried away when they saw Asuran, knowing that he would want to be going as soon as possible. Wind's howling, he noted, feeling sympathy for those who would be caught out in the chill while riding on the outside of the carriage.

After Asuran had checked over all the luggage strapped to the carriage, making sure nothing had been forgotten, his lieutenant Alsten stepped forward . "Ready to go, sir?"

"Seems so. Make sure to stay warm out there, and don't hesitate to ask if you need anything."

Alsten replied only with a brisk nod, so Asuran ducked into the passenger area of the carriage and tried to get comfortable in preparation for the more than a day's travel ahead. If things went well, they'd arrive very early in the morning of the 1st of Cariya, giving him enough time to sleep for a while before the opening banquet. The thumping of boots upon wood informed him that the troops had taken their positions upon the carriage, and with a sudden lurch the coach began moving, signaling the beginning of what would come to be one of the most important experiences of Asuran's life.

​

Hours later, the small party continued to roll through the oppressively thick forests that filled the north of Dorimun. Peering through the windows, Asuran felt a tight knot of anxiety and discomfort grow in his stomach at the prospect of having to go through the checkpoint between Dorimun and Greedo, which was only compounded by his (as the rational piece of his mind knew) childish fears about what may be lurking out of sight in the darkness.

Suddenly, the forests dropped off, leaving them a clear view to the edges of the tiny strip of land connecting Dorimun to Greedo. Moments later, the flickering light of torches marking the checkpoint that separated the two nations began filtering through the carriage windows. A terse conversation between his carriage driver and a guardsman followed, lasting minutes yet feeling like hours, after which the carriage continued onwards, and Asuran let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. He knew his paranoia was ridiculous; Greedo and Dorimun hadn't been at war for hundreds of years, and they wouldn't start now. But with the instability currently, a cynical part of him still was convinced something bad would happen.

With the most stressful portion of the trip over, Asuran slouched down on his seat in the cabin and tried to get some sleep. With the month I have, god knows I'll need it, he thought. Dance and pleasantries had never been his strong suits, but it seemed he would have to learn, and quickly at that, for the sake of not appearing a fool in front of the assembled representatives.

However, despite his best efforts his sleep was fitful at best and nonexistent at worst, with the bench he was sitting on providing little in the way of space to sit or relax. Asuran still did not feel tired, however. Instead, he was kept awake by anxious thoughts of what the ball might hold for him, and the catastrophe it could be if he was unsuccessful in achieving anything of note during such an important time for Roserasia.

Time dragged on and mile upon mile of farms, villages, woods, and fields slid past the windows of the carriage, punctuated only by those few times when the Duke could take it no longer and got out to march alongside the carriage to stretch his legs for a time before returning to what he was quickly beginning to consider his lavish wooden prison.

Finally, deep into the night of the 30th of Ulmus, the grand city of Saint Lyon came into view, Waltz castle rizing up behind it. At this, the party gained a second wind, and what had previously been complete silence broke into excited but hushed chatter at what was in store for them all.

Just a short while later, the weary travellers found themselves rolling into the now mostly empty streets of the city, although of course with such a populated area there were still a few people of... questionable moral character about at this hour. However, with the armed guards upon the carriage, none decided to give it more than passing glance before scurrying away into a darker corner of the city.

Finally, a beautiful sight loomed in front of them all: the Princess's Chateau. Asuran's luggage was brought inside by the small number of staff on duty so late, and he bid adieu to his guardsmen, who he was informed would be tended to during the ball, before being brought to his suite. The white owl upon the door was a somehow calming sight to him; it was a slice of home, even here.

A cursory glance at the salon that formed the entryway of the room revealed it to be seemingly lavish. However, the heavy hand of exhaustion had suddenly grabbed ahold of Asuran, and he could only find the energy to stumble his way into a bedroom and collapse upon the bed, leaving his sword propped against it and in easy reach as he did every night.

And so, just as the sun began to rise above the 1st of Cariya and the city began to hum with life and preparations for the opening banquet, the young Duke slipped into a deep and dreamless sleep.

 

[Rapror Augustine]

Carnation groaned as she rose from her bed, not used to waking at the crack of dawn or whatever time it was now. She stretched her arms above her head before opening her eyes, taking in the sight of her guest room within the barracks of Euthalia's guard. It was a simple room with an oak desk and chair, a plain inn quality bed, a night stand, dresser, and few decorations perfect for a wandering merc who doesn't care much for how things look.

Red eyes gazed about the room, fixating on the clock that was above the door. Carnation strained her vision trying to ascertain the position of the clock hands, then worry started to spring from from the corners of her mind as she noticed the positions of the clock hands. It was 6:23 Am. Whatever energy was missing came back in an instant as the young woman scrambled to to exchange her nightgown for the armor that was lent to her. When Carnation finished she grabbed her cutlass and necklace and opened the door to start roaming the halls that stretched out before her.

Out in the expansive halls and small rooms that filled the barracks there was hardly a soul, mostly due to the amount of prep work for the opening banquet still going on, causing Carnation to increase her pace to Waltz Castle's western side so she could enter the banquet hall where go good number of guard members would likely be. I cant believe I overslept for almost thirty minutes! Her mind yelled out as the young woman continued onward to meet with Captain Falkor and his second in Holwood in the glorious banquet hall that she had been familiar with in the past week. "Sorry I'm late!" She called out the moment she had arrived hopeful that no one, especially Holwood, would be furious at her tardiness.

The soldiers the just looked up at her before resuming their tasks with neither of the two commanding figures seen with them. Carnation began to think about why they weren't there, until the obvious thought entered her cranium. "Of course they're not here they'd be out patrolling at this hour!" she groaned out, though at a volume that no one else in the room could pick up. The mercenary then started walking over to the entrance of the massive room, leaning back when she arrived as she waited to see if there was anything she would need to help the guardsmen with as she waited for at least Holwood to get back.

 

[Unwavering Knight]

For the Lady.

The hustle and bustle of the festivities brought the entirety of the capital to new and wondrous exaltation. From all lands and directions visitors, tourists and new-arrivals traveled to bear witness to this year's Cendrillion Ball, flooding Saint Lyon's streets. Mundane and exotic figures freely intermixed, the air alight with the voicings of merchants praising their wares, craftsmen plying their trades as passing buyers haggled for favorable prices.

Though despite the lively, nigh-unruly atmosphere, an edge remained if one had been inclined to see with sharp eyes: The stonefaced expressions of the guards, the pensive, watchful stares of many an arie, and the distrustful glances the latter received from a variety of passersby. It was no secret that this particular Cendrillion Ball garnered not just interest for the skill of its participants, but for the far-reaching consequences resulting from the royal matchmaking certain to happen during its conduction.

In prior times, in other cities, he had often heard disparaging arguments how it was oftentimes difficult to traverse through such crowds, with so many attempting to find their way through the flooded streets. The knight never had such trouble, as he found he was given plenty of space, everyone trying to steer clear of his imposing frame.

His perceptions were aflame. He could hear a thousand voices screeching, roaring and crying, while the stench of mundane wares, extraordinary tools, blood, feces and other wasted bodily fluids mixed with the distinct oils of various sorts of meat, the ground beneath him vibrating, trembling with the steps of innumerable feet of humanoids, cattle and carriages...

Such was the thrilling aroma of grand wishes and filth-filled dreams, produced by the wonderful purity of life. The knight's breath gained in heat. Still it was that even within this crowd, he remained isolated. A matter that he could not imagine to be different, natural, unchangeable like the growth of trees or rising and falling of tides. As such, he felt little for it.

But that didn't mean he felt nothing.

Distinct as he was, it did not take much time for a guard to approach him, moving through the crowd with his own respect-driven space directly into the knight's path. Identities were easily ascertained, a parchment quickly handed over to the armored frame before polite farewells were forced to allow return to the call of duty.

The helmeted gaze inspected the paper resting in his claw, figure standing still like a rock in the crowd for almost a minute, before resuming his path with indifferent silence.

Nothing had changed...

 

[Orikanyo]

Celso



​

"...Late once again... One might considering wondering why they pay me, if all I am going to do is sit here and be a part of the furniture. Of course, I am quite the appealing set of furniture mind, one that can brighten and improve just about any room I enter. Not that they'd do anything else with me as it seems the lovely little princess whom I have been hired to tutor seems to think I'm here to BORE her to death! Or perhaps her slave driver? A perpetuator of her grand fears of the truest and greatest arts?" the rabbit man stood within the training hall, quite unhappy to be repeating the same morning routine yet again.

6:35 am Wake up
6:40 am Peel self out of bed.
6:45 am Dress self and look devilishly handsome as per usual.
6:46 am Greet the staff.
6:51 am Enjoy some time with certain members of said staff.
7:13 am Eat breakfast while waiting for a certain Arien named Kip that the princess has whatever excuse for not attending.
7:13-7:25 am Stress for the thousandth time her need to practice and how he will not be withheld his payment because of this last minute change to schedule.
7:25 am onwards go about day as he wishes.


The fact Kip did not tell him there was no cancellation had given the man hope that he'd actually be teaching the young lady something today. maybe something simple to get her back into the... Swing... of things.

But no.

No no no no no....

Not this day either it seems!

"Hmph... Cendrillion ball... it starts soon, and I have to make certain shes presentable for it, but what can I do for a patent that never shows up to be treated!? there is no cure for laziness, that is for certain." the bunny man's leg thumped against the floor with a repeated thump, causing the hall to echo with his discontent and building impatience. We're she not his employer's daughter, he'd give her a piece of his mind.

He could have done so many things with this time!

He could be doing so many things by now!

Wiping off his red coat he cleared his throat. "Now Celso, let us not get hasty... late is better than not showing up at all. She is like a cat, you must wait until they come to you, you cannot force them to-" another throat being cleared noted him to a maid nearby, a feline arien who was currently dusting off a vase. "..My apologies." he gave a low bow, his ear tips tapping the floor. "Hmph, careful what you say or this cat will catch your tongue." she teased with a wiggle of the feather duster before exiting the room.

Celso stayed quiet for a moment, before grinning and crossing his arms. "Meow..." chuckling, he felt slightly better in terms of mood. "I suppose there is nothing for it... I must go and find them myself. the other kingdom's representatives are to be showing up soon, likely all nervous and filled with butterflies. Or perhaps ravenous and ready to do battle upon the dance floor? I know that I... Would... be.." he sighed, his ears drooping slightly. "Alas, I am unlikely to be dealing with them. My charge, my trainee, I must find her and hunt her down... That exhibition dance won't perform itself!"

Celso began to walk his way out of the room, his path was set and he would not be dissuaded by some butler, he would have the princess train! She had been putting it off for to long! And he will not be chased away! this rabbit was on a hunt!

A rabbit hunt!

By the end of this day...

SHE!

WILL!

DANCE!!!

And she will have a marvellous time.

 

[Syrenrei]

Dahlia Lenore Sinclair
Princess of Greedo
​

It was one of the first enjoyable days she had since coming to Euthalia. Unlike the other guests, Dahlia had been in the Princess's Chateau for approximately two weeks. Not even the other royalty knew the truth of her illness, but rumors of its severity had undoubtedly reached the far corners of the continent. She had several friends who were servants and staff of the palace. One of the few joys they had on the roughest days were insights into the lives of the wealthy and privileged and being able to gossip the latest news to their peers. To someone who was of a lower social status the trials and tribulations of the elite was the most tantalizing gossip they could enjoy. That Dahlia had been spirited from Greedo to Euthalia for treatment, that she had been nearly comatose during the journey, that she was bedridden in Euthalia, that her diet had been entirely liquid because she vomited all food that was remotely solid, and that for a week and a half her breathing had been a wheeze were almost certainly common knowledge.

The Princess of Greedo hoped and prayed the true cause of her incapacitation never came to light.

For the past few days she had been more ambulatory and thus been given permission by the physicians to try more 'daring' food. Mashed vegetables and fruits (as opposed to purees) had been tentatively approved and Dahlia had rewarded her doctors by successfully digesting them. Who knew that consuming food prepared as it would be for a toddler would be celebrated at nineteen years? Two mornings prior meat had been introduced as well as a variety of spices. Today's breakfast had been real food, seasoned and unassaulted by pulverizing instruments, and a ringing endorsement she had been all but cured. Her strength had yet to return in full but she would walk, talk, and function much as she could before her health had plummeted. Most importantly she was able to attend the Cendrillion Ball.

Mother and Father would have objected had they been physically at the castle. Dahlia had slightly exaggerated her progress to them so that they would be reassured participating in the ball would not be excessively taxing and detrimental. While she was confident she could perform dances, she was not a victim of the illusion that had been painted for her parents. It would be exhausting to practice. Holding conversations would be refreshing but she would yearn for the bed more quickly and eagerly than she had before that fateful evening. Dahlia didn't consider herself and actress but in this particular case she would have to be one for the greater good.

Tristan, the most wondrous brother that any girl could ask for, was coming to the ball and she knew that he'd be expected to choose a wife. As his adoring sister she wasn't sure any girl, not even the Euthalia princess Evalyn, was deserving of his hand in marriage, but death itself would not draw her away from the event that would undoubtedly change both of their lives. She had to be there to support him in his endeavors. She had to be strong, charming, and gregarious so that it reflected well on Greedo and, by extension, Tristan himself as future king. She had to make certain his match was everything he needed and wanted it to be even if the princess was someone who engaged in deception. Already she had proven extreme loyalty to her only sibling. This pressing of her limits was a trifle in comparison to her other efforts. It would be difficult to suppress herself and her adventurous spirit but this was the future.

Dahlia sighed, her buoyant mood subdued for just the briefest moment as she stared out the window. If her every action was not being carefully observed by a small team of people that fretted over each cough she would be frolicking in the sunlight. She wished to see all the artisans of Euthalia and what beautiful items they created, to see how differently the citizens dressed, to hear the eccentricities of their accents, and what arie were native here that were sparse and rare in Greedo. Being shut in her room like a beloved prisoner was even more frustrating than all the unpleasant bodily reactions she had suffered through. Coupled with the prospects of the future, and memories of the King and Queen's relationship back home, she ought to be depressed. Sadness lingered as a stranger on her heart before dissipating. Melancholy was not a solution to the trials and tribulations of life. Perhaps now she stood behind a gate but there were no guarantees of the next day, months, years. Hope was her closest confidant and she hugged him tightly as a smile returned to her face.

With any luck at least one of the princes or princesses would indulge her need to have fun beyond a restrictive waltz.

 

[The Succubi Queen]

Naomie Marie ThalassaNaomi stepped off the boat, grateful to see something besides endless blue. She loved the ocean, perhaps more than anything else in her life, yet the past month or so at sea, eating nothing but hard tack and preserved meat had taken it's toll on her spirit. She was delighted to see the hustling city sprawled out before her, even as curious onlookers turned towards the ship, trying to recognize the strange flags their ship flew.

Oh, but never mind all that! She was here! On the Mainland- in Euthalia of all places! 10 years ago she would never have dreamed she'd set foot anywhere but the Queendom, and now she was in the capital of Euthalia! She ran down the gangplank into the busy port, leaving the tall sailor carrying her trunks in the dust. Everything was so strange- the smells, the clothes, the language- they had rather odd accents. Or was her accent the odd one?

She heard a voice calling her, and grimced. "Princess! Princess Naomi!" She spun on one heel and slid her way back through the crowd towards the sailors. She felt eyes on her- wonderful. More attention.

"Please, there's no need to call me Princess- we all know each other a little too well after this past month, First Mate." She grinned wolfishly at him.

He rolled his eyes at her. In the past month, he'd learned better than to argue with her. "Prince- Naomi, I know you're excited, but it'd be a damn shame if you got yourself lost before the ball even started. Your mother would have me hanged in the Square if she knew I hadn't took care of ya." A joke, of course. No one really was hanged in the Marine Queendom anymore- unless they did something utterly horrible. Losing the rambunctious Princess would not be a crime by any measure.

She stifled a giggle. Always worrying- she'd gotten away from home specifically to avoid the worrying. "Well, if I get lost, you just don't tell her- she's not expecting me home for two months and once you drop my things off, I'm not your responsibility!" She told him. "I won't tell her if you won't- not that I'll be in much position to narc on you."

The first mate groaned. Naomi sighed, and capitulated. He was only doing his job. "Alright, alright. I'll be a good Princess, just for you, Theseus." She stood by, remaining in sight as they loaded up the carriage they had hired for her. She tried to politely avoid all the people staring, but she wished just one person was brave enough to talk to her. Imagine that conversation!

Eventually, her things were loaded. "Alright, Milady- you're all set- mind you be polite for those Roseasians, even if they don't meet your high standards." He smiled up at Naomi as he helped her into the cart, a rueful grin on his face showing that perhaps he had actually softened towards her over the voyage.

"If I don't like them, perhaps I'll just find you and we can run away and be pirates!" She suggested.

"Then your mother'd hang me for sure." He shook his head with exasperation. "Now off you go, Naomi- make them fancy mainlanders notice our little island."

As her carriage drove towards the gleaming Castle, Naomi thought the cargo the ship carried would be more than enough to make the mainland notice. Hopefully the coin it earned would be enough to make their island notice the mainland.
The room was simple, a bit more simple than she had anticipated, honestly. The bed was large and accomdating, and the armoire was nice, but it all felt.. rather old. Perhaps Euthalia prided itself on maintaining antiquity? That was the only thing that might explain how ancient it all seemed- and the small specks of rust still in the bathroom, and though they'd only been recently scrubbed.

But, it was home for the next bit. Maybe she ought to have brought something. Something to make her feel a little more at home. Such as a decoration. A plant maybe? Or maybe a friend.....

No! She would make plenty of friends here, and who needed a touch of home- she'd spent too long there, now she could see everything else the world had to offer. Maybe if she found a really good friend, they'd invite her to their kingdom! Yes, that was it. She'd make so many friends and be invited so many places that she'd never need to see Marinous again.

She opened the small envelope on her desk, a determined smile on her face. And Opening Banquet! A first chance to make some really connections- both political and personal. Yes, this was it. She was ready to prove to everyone what the Marine Queendom was about. And she was ready to prove what she was about to the whole world, the Marine Queendom included.

She took to unpacking, setting aside the gown and jewelry she would need tonight on the bed.

 

[hosaki]

KALEN

“Two hundred and fifty Sias. That’s the most I can give you.”

Grier shifted on his silk cushions to add another bag of coins to the four already on the table. He cast an expectant look upon the man currently sitting before him: both the man’s looks and his garb suggested he was not native to St. Lyon, which meant it would be easier to get away with underpaying him. The subject of this scrutiny drummed his fingers against the wooden tabletop as if to consider the offer, but this motion was more a formality calculated to make it seem as if he weren’t desperate for more money.

“You can’t go any higher? That’s not even enough to live in St. Lyon for two weeks during the festivities. And you wouldn’t want poor, old me to starve on the streets, would you? Would be bad for business, having the face of your...” Kalen snatched up the flyer, his face contorting as he tried to put a name to whatever was drawn on the parchment “-jewelry line thing, whatever this is... Point is, you wouldn’t want me dying on your doorstep.”

Kalen flashed a cheeky smile to frame his threat as a joke, but homelessness and starvation were, in fact, very real possibilities. Not that he hadn’t experienced his fair share of hardship as a roving student of dance, but a large city like St. Lyon was particularly hostile to the impoverished. To think he wasn’t allowed to spend the night in the town square because it was a “violation of our laws against vagrancy...” Had there been such laws in place?

“They’re called magical accessories,” Grier muttered. Figured the man wouldn’t be stupid enough to accept any old price he set. “Three hundred then. Three hundred is the final wage.”

“Make it three hundred and fifty and you’ve got yourself a deal.”

“Look... I’m not paying out three hundred and fifty Sias for some no-name dancer. You’re no Prince Lysander.” The merchant snorted and took in a pinch of snuff with a dainty lift of his pinky.

“I’m not,” Kalen agreed. “I’m better.”

At this, the merchant fell into a wheezing fit and nearly dropped his snuff box. “It doesn’t hurt a young man to possess some self-confidence, but in your case, you don’t just have some. Crazy guy... Reminds me of when I was your age.” He clapped Kalen heartily on the back. “I may not mind, but I advise you not to go around making such outrageous claims. You might end up with your head on the pike.” Grier hacked out another short laugh. “I won’t budge on my price, but I’ll throw in free lodging just for you. How about it?”

Kalen's smile grew wider. “You’re a good man.” He pulled the man’s hand into a brief, firm handshake.

“Excellent!” Grier rubbed his hands together before withdrawing a cream envelope from his breast pocket. “This is the invite. You’ll need it for the guards to let you into the venue. The owner of the inn across the road owes me a favor, so just drop my name and Madame Rosanna will set you up with room and board.”

The traveler cautiously picked up the document and began to inspect it as his employer continued to expound on the details of the task at hand.

“...of course you don’t look the part, but I can hardly go myself. Who’ll run my business? If you’re stopped, just show this letter of mine and you’ll be introduced as a representative of St. Lyon’s trade sector, treated as respectfully as my own person. Princes and princesses with their crowns and their royal duties and their grand balls... I daresay it’s the merchants of the world that make it go round. Do they pay taxes?” Punctuating this run of conversation with a guffaw and a slap of the knee, Grier pushed the bags of coins into Kalen’s lap and all but dismissed his guest from his presence.

"Go out there and translate some of that confidence of yours into actual results, you hear me? I want my goods to be selling like hotcakes!"

Thus, the wandering mongrel gained a formidable patron indeed – the wealthiest tradesman in all of Euthalia – though the benefits reaped from such a connection were far more modest than to be expected.

 

[Pretzel Heart]

❂ Klaus Mathis Diefenbach ❂ Luciano Barbosa ❂ Rosalein Katharina Diefenbach ❂
"Well...that happened."
​

Speckled rays of light fell upon Klaus's face, waking him from the golden haze of one dream into another. The forest clearing where he had at last persuaded Luciano to park their travel-worn carriage sat in a special silence refreshed by the soft calling of some faraway birds and the gentle lapping of nearby water. Waiting for his eyes to adjust to the metallic penetration of the sun, the young man lay perfectly still, and in his mid-conscious state he imagined that if he refused to move the airy morning would perpetuate forever in an imprisonment of time. However, he soon became vaguely aware of a warm weight falling over his body, and realized that his companion had at some point thrown his arms over him as they had slept. With a bemused look Klaus glanced upwards, spying the pillow they had brought to supplement Luciano's...unconventional sleeping habits. It lay crumpled a few feet away, discarded and forgotten in the night.

He sighed, wondering for not the first time in their relationship if Luciano would be a less feral sleeper if he would just take better care of himself.

Still, there was a certain nostalgia to the scene. When they were younger the tangled mess of their bodies might have been almost normal. Though Klaus always did his best to struggle through his partner's late-night dances, he would always, at some point, wake up in the hazy fog of morning curled over the practice room floor. And Luciano, for his part, was more often than not sprawled near him. It seemed that, no matter his intentions, man was simply not built to dance for 48 hours straight...

Not to mention on those rare nights that Klaus could coax his friend to stay in, or when the families were on more official visits, it had been their habit to sneak into one another's rooms and waste away the evening with talk of idolized dancers, country gossip, and reenactments of the swashbuckling Pegleg Princess until at some point falling asleep in a cluttered disarray on a shared bed. Of course they had eventually outgrown this tradition.

But there had also been that not-so-distant night upon which Luciano had once more come to his chambers in the dark. His friend's expression, a vulnerable gloom so atypical for the sour and stoic genius, had marked itself upon Klaus's memory. That night, too, they had fallen asleep like children embracing each other's warmth. Though the next morning they naturally returned to the distance required of young men of society and it seemed as if Luciano had forgotten the experience, it stayed with Klaus, haunting him like an unfulfilled promise.

And here they were again. On their way to the Cendrillion Ball. Possibly their last great adventure together.
For a moment Klaus continued to lie still in the dappled light. The truth was that they were no longer children, and had upon them adult responsibilities. Their nostalgic journey meandering through Southern Roserasia was more of a swan song than a first step.

As carefully as he could, Klaus disentangled himself from Luciano's haphazard embrace, keeping focus on his friend's sleeping face to make sure that it remained serene. He knew better than to try and rouse him. It had never failed to amuse him, the difference between awake and sleep. During the day Luciano hated to be touched (outside of dancing, of course), and would flinch away from any wandering hands, no matter how accidental. In that way he was rather like his cat, Belladonna, who was now similarly curled up in a surprisingly luxurious bed in the carriage's dark recesses. Apparently the twins hadn't been kind to her during Luciano's absence the previous year, and Klaus certainly took no issue with bringing her along. If only the feeling was mutual. She seemed to be judging him now with her wide, emotionless eyes. As if the young senator could ever bring himself to do anything to betray his best friend's trust.

But time was of the essence. Despite their considerable head start they were now in danger of showing up late to the Ball, and Klaus was sure that with his parents' being who they were, he'd be seeing a letter from them upon this point the moment he arrived. Despite the fact they had left several days early, with Luciano insisting on being the one to drive, what really could Klaus do? Passing through Greedo was dangerous in the way that, even for a normal traveler, the beautiful landscape could blur into a never-ending mural with one brook or forest being barely indistinguishable from the next. There had even been a time when they had journeyed an entire day only to end up in the same village they had left from. But the people there had been friendly, weaving them crowns of flowers and inviting them to join in their own version of Cendrillion celebrations in an evening of dancing amidst a field abloom with midnight fires. So in the end, Luciano's tendency to lose himself hadn't been too much of a bother. And so for all those mornings when he had been first to wake, Klaus had allowed himself to be seduced by the dappled light and his friend's peaceful face into thinking that it would be fine if only things went on like this for just a little longer. And so they had, over and over, no matter how long it took.

But things couldn't stay like this forever.

Sooner or later they would both have to wake up, wouldn't they? The letter would arrive, the Ball would commence, and the rest of the world would sweep them from their timeless haven into the harsh tides of progression.

Besides, Klaus was genuinely curious about the Ball and overjoyed at the prospects of finally reuniting with everyone. There were diplomatic responsibilities, yes, but moreover the Ball was a chance to make friends from all over Roserasia. After being chained to Rameria's great modern marble halls for years on end, Klaus could already feel the rushing excitement of the thousands of tourists from every nation pulling him magnetically towards Saint Lyon.

It would be little trouble for him to find the way.

With a newly-fueled determination, the senator arose at last, timidly stepping over Luciano's body. The promised land of the driver's seat was finally within his grasp.
​

❂ ❂ ❂ ​

The gentle shift of the bedding and the slow disappearance of warmth beside him was the first sensation Luciano had of the waking world. The second was an automatic feeling of denial at being alive at all, and he cocooned himself deeper in the blankets to prevent the world from snatching him away. Mornings were awful, makeshift carriage beds were awful, morning chill was awful, life was awful. He laid half awake in the uncomfortable, timeless realm between consciousness and slumber until the sun became so bright he couldn't remain in the waning security of sleep any longer. Stupid sunlight thinks it can just come out of nowhere straight into my sleeping eyes? Who does it even think it is? He thought, until he remembered that he wasn't alone. He peeked up from his nest to find Klaus absent, the pleasant bastard probably readying himself for the day; making friends with squirrels and singing with the birds or whatever cheery people like him did at these early godawful hours. Luciano personally found it disgusting that anyone could enjoy a morning.

So distracted was he by the discomfort of his wakeful state that he neglected to notice that the carriage was moving until a significant bump rattled the collapsible bedding support between the two seats, causing Belladonna to mewl. That certainly wasn't normal. Now very much awake, he pushed open the window with weak early morning strength and poked his rustled bedhead outside to find Klaus at the reins.

"You could have just woken me, you know," he grumbled to Klaus in the driver's seat, guiding the horses along at a leisurely pace. After all, Luciano was the one who made the trip last year, he absolutely knew where he was going, and they certainly weren't far... Wait, where exactly were they, anyway? The road didn't look familiar, at least, not until he noticed Euthalia's castle rising up over the distant trees. How did Klaus manage to do that? What time was it? At any rate, he was grateful to at least have such a competent companion. Had it been anyone else showing him up at his navigation his pride may have been wounded, but Klaus surely only meant to help him (not that he needed any help, or so he thought). Turning back to the window separating the carriage from the coachman's perch, he cleared his throat and told him to wait a few minutes to let him get dressed before joining him at the front.
​

❂ ❂ ❂​

"Glad to see you're finally up," Klaus said with a smile as his friend slid next to him, "We should almost be at the castle. I thought it was best if you rested after all that driving yesterday...and the day before......and there was this nice aria that pointed out the way, so I hope you don't mind..." he turned to focus on the horses ahead of him, a sheepish expression on his face. Despite how long they had known each other, Luciano's sense of direction (or rather, lack thereof) was always a sore spot, and Klaus never knew what kind of reaction it could stir up. Usually it was best just not to mention it.

"Actually I'm surprised you slept through all of that," he lightly teased, hoping to avoid the question of directions all together. It was true that few things were able to separate Luciano from the darkness of sleep, and the most effective of which - the troublesome twins - couldn't exactly grace them with a wakeup call miles away in the middle of a forest. Which was probably a good thing, seeing how tense their mere presence made Luciano.
​

❂ ❂ ❂​

"Whatever gets us there faster, I guess," the viscount replied, rubbing a bit of sleep from his eye. "You know, you can let me drive the rest of the way, if you want." While it really wasn't that much further to the castle and Klaus could plausibly take them the rest of the way without issue, in truth, Luciano quite liked being in charge. He considered himself good at driving, in any case. He was less cautious, which had caused a few close calls, but he'd never actually hurt anyone. At least not provably. Even if a few of his shortcuts were wrong, they got them there faster in the end, he reasoned.

"I'm not sure if I'd call it sleeping," he huffed, "I should have brought that thicker blanket, you'd think by Cariya mornings would be warmer." Although, he himself wondered how he didn't notice the carriage rumbling along the path despite his half awake state. Klaus was surely too cautious a driver, he thought. All the more reason for him to take over. He'd gotten them this far, and after coming to Euthalia last year for Cendrillion, surely he knew the way better than Klaus did.
​

❂ ❂ ❂​

Klaus let out a light, only slightly nervous laugh, inspired by both his friend's words and the creeping impatience lurking behind them. He sensed that Luciano was thinking about how much he wanted to drive, even as he said it didn't matter. And yet, when it came to the most important matters, the open book of the viscount's face would harden into a pale mask that he could never quite penetrate.

"At least you'll have a whole month of not having to sleep on this thing," he said, gesturing to the back of the carriage where the seats were still configured into bed form. Once in an upright position, there was a space behind them where the padding, blankets, and pillows were usually stored, under which was the spacious undercarriage compartment where their luggages now bounced to the horses' gentle cadence. "I've heard so many stories about the Roserasian Suites at the castle...I'm sure they're furnished beautifully."

His words were as airy and bright as his laughter had been earlier. The fresh crispness of the morning warmed by the gentle fall of sun through the forest's full trees had come together to create a brilliant day which directly fed into the senator's heart. Klaus's spirits were so high that he could scarcely register the biting chill occasionally thrust from a swift breeze slinking through the leaves like a forgotten omen. Indeed his thoughts were on nothing but the road ahead, punctuated at times by the shining form of Waltz Castle peeking through the foliage from the high mound upon which it stood. Scenes from childhood began to replay before his eyes, and though it had been so many years since he last came down his path, Klaus was sure that he knew the way.

From next to him, however, was a nearly palpable tension building as Luciano's hazel eyes watched the road. Like a cat focusing on an innocently swimming fish, ready to pounce, he appeared as if he might explode if the current driver didn't acquiesce.

Surely there's no way we can get lost now. The castle is right there.

Carried on the wave of his good mood Klaus decided to throw caution to the wind.

"Alright, you've driven for most of this journey, might as well finish it off."

Carefully rearing in the horses, Klaus handed over to Luciano the reins.
​

❂ ❂ ❂​

"WAIT! You can't!" A feminine voice cried out, just before Luciano accepted.

Rosalein immediately blew her cover as she lifted her small body from the mess of luggage and bedding. Over the course of their journey, the poor princess decided on a whim that following the two Representatives to the esteemed Cendrillion Ball was a great idea. Conveniently, there was a small space underneath the carriage where their luggage stood, along with spare pieces of pillows and bedding the boys had neglected to pay attention to.

For the past three days or so, she had not considered any other detours along the way. Hiding herself in the undercarriage didn't seem so miserable, yet the duration of the trip had left her absolutely drained. Her eyes formed visible dark circles, her overall expression glazed over, as if she had seemingly gone insane. Her dark mane grew disheveled, with many of the white flowers falling out of place. The only positive of hiding was the shelter from the cold.

Her back had grown familiar to the luxury bedding of Guildenstern Castle that it ached from taking shelter in the carriage. Every time the horse took a single step, her entire body bounced along to the rhythm, hitting the latticework all along their journey. To protect her fragile art supplies on top of her treasured violin, she held them close to her chest. To pass the time, Rosalein made an impromptu fort with the boys' luggage. There was little space to move her limbs, forcing Rosalein into an upright fetal position. Luckily, the noise from the heavier luggage surrounding her concealed any small cry of pain or her lightweight body crashing against the undercarriage.

It would all be worth it soon. That was her mantra for continuing her masochistic ways. From an outside perspective, she had no discernible reason for attending the ball, as the Representative had been chosen as the only members of royalty. Even to those that knew her well, Rosa stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing plain and muted clothing to an extravagant ball. Furthermore, Roman and Freya were definitely against Rosalein even leaving Rameria. However, she knew the pressure would be redirected towards her with Klaus leaving that she knew enough was enough. It would be her only chance to meet Princess Evelyn and indulge in her freedom. Surely, Klaus would find it impossible to deny her this chance... and she was so close to the castle...

"If it wasn't for your dreadful sense of direction, we would have gotten to Waltz Castle in at least a day or two." Rosalein protested, pointing a defiant finger at Luciano. "Even with a head start, we will still arrive late if Klaus doesn't drive."
​

❂ ❂ ❂​

"R-Rosalein--?" At the sound of the familiar voice Klaus instinctually pulled the horses to a full stop. Then, for a near minute, he just stared blankly at the creature who had arisen from the carriage depths. His mind, which had been to so many places over the course of the young morning, simply couldn't register the chaos of this new development.

Luciano was faster.

"Oh...hey?" Nothing so much as shock or irritation registered in the viscount's blank eyes, almost as if he'd been half expecting the intrusion. As the girl continued to speak, however, the irritation registered. "Excuse me? The only reason we're not there by now is because of Klaus's fangirls."

"W-What?"

"Remember that time they tried to stop us from leaving? It's not my fault we had to take a detour. And how can I be blamed if the sign's too small to read? And I swear that shortcut worked the last time..."

"I-It's okay, Lucci...Rosa...we'll be there soon, in any case. B-Besides...right now, that's not the issue..." Klaus was still too flustered over his sister's sudden appearance to try and argue. Not to mention, his friend did have a solid point. They had been detained nearly a whole morning thanks to that incident with the village girls. But they had been so kind to him...how could he have possibly said 'no'...?

Meanwhile Lucciano's mind had already turned to other things. His squinty eyes narrowing even further, he tried to reach his head past the driver's seat. "You don't have any other siblings hiding back there, do you?" He shuddered to think of having to spend a whole month with the twins.

"Lucci, how can you be so calm? And Rosa...What will Mother and Father say? Did you get permission from them to come? Why didn't you ask me? Where have you been this whole time?" Klaus ran his hand back through his downy peach-colored hair, a habit whenever he was in distress, an emotion which was now clearly displaying itself across his face. "H-Have you been watching us...?"

Immediately he flushed to think that all those moments he had shared with his friend had been privy to a secret interloper! Of course, it was only Rosa, and he trusted her just about as much as he trusted anyone, but still...

"I don't see what the problem is. Other than we're going to a ball, and your sister can't dance." Luciano raised a pointed eyebrow at the young woman as he said this. Not only could she not dance, but she looked like a complete mess. He'd always suspected that people who didn't like dancing had something wrong with them, but living like a feral animal and stowing away on a carriage? What could have possibly been her motive? While normally the two were on neutral terms (he could respect things like passion and drive, even if they were wasted on trivialities like painting), he couldn't help but suspect there was something nefarious in Rosalein's convenient presence.

She'd better not complicate things...

Well, he had, unintentionally, used the last Cendrillion to chase that other woman away. Maybe he'd be just as unintentionally successful this time.

As Luciano turned to dark thoughts Klaus had already dropped the reigns, climbing into the back to try and pull up the bed and get Rosa situated properly. Though, of course, he hadn't been suspecting such a turn of events, one might be hard-pressed to believe it to see the array of items he pulled from seemingly nowhere to pass to his sister as he prattled. A mirror, a hairbrush, a lint roller, some eau de cologne...

"The problem is, she doesn't have an invitation! It might not mean as much to you, but this is my first time as Rameria's Representative. I don't want to leave a bad impression... Won't they find it rude? What if they don't have room for us? Did you bring any money? I think I have enough to house you, somewhere, but I'll have to write Mother and Father immediately..."

While Klaus continued to list off a long set of new duties he'd have to attend to while encouraging his sister to try and fix herself up, Luciano took the senator's absence in the driver's seat as his cue.

"Well, if you're busy, guess it's my turn." They weren't going to get anywhere by just sitting there. Rosalein was likely just used to her brother's soft-hearted, half-assed driving, which had prompted her ill-informed comment. Well, he'd show her what it meant to really handle a carriage.

Setting his sights on the castle peeking out just ahead, the viscount cracked the reigns, taking off at full force.

❂ ❂ ❂​

Rosalein's frantic eyes darted to the rest of the luggage, as the force of the stop nearly toppled the seemingly weightless girl over. She quickly gained her composure, looking at her brother with full understanding of the situation at hand. Rosa knew that her brother could easily bend, but Luciano? He was a wild card.

"That would be me." She responded, apprehensively. Whether or not Klaus' fangirls were the culprits of their untimely arrival wasn't the issue, that she could agree on. It did make the whole journey more of a pain to deal with, that was certain.

"We don't have any other siblings, you know that." Unaware of the fact that Luciano could have been talking about his siblings, Rosalein was not in the mood for having her own cynicism reflected back to her. Surprisingly enough, it was refreshing that Luciano had took this as casually as she was at the moment. As much as she trusted her older brother, there was no way she could ever reveal her motive for stowing away in a carriage.

"Look." Rosalein ran her hands through her matted hair, cringing as soon as she noted the texture. It had been days since she had brushed her hair. Up until she hopped out of the undercarriage, her appearance had been the least of her worries. Her eyes looked away from her brother, as she struggled to explain herself. There was nothing she felt she could explain. Everything about her motives were wrong. It was reckless and stupid and such a big mistake...

"Forget about Mother and Father. They don't care if I come." If they didn't care then, why would they care now? Their merciless control over the girl during her more recent years back at the castle was unwelcome. It just didn't click in her mind how they shrugged her off, even disregarded her at times, only to expect Rosa to make herself useful? All that accomplished was making Rosalein feel resentful.

At that thought, she bit her lip, a quick sign of a lie. Her family would care. In fact, she suspected severe consequences for her sudden rebellion. She didn't want to tell Klaus that her decision was based on a whim, without any permission or warning. "I won't cause trouble. I promise."

Luciano's suspicious glance was returned with an expressionless stare. Rosalein refused to reveal anything to the viscount. He was less naive and harder to control than Klaus was. The Cendrillion Ball was something the man would never give up. At least he sided with her on staying, that she had to thank him for. Without even questioning how he was able to pull the objects out of nowhere, she grabbed them with little hesitation. "Thank you."

"Please, Klaus. Stop worrying about me, I made sure to bring enough. The Ramerian suites in the Castle will be enough to house the both of us." Feeling a tinge of guilt over her brother's overwhelming concern and her own uncontrollably terse behaviour, she begrudgingly let loose her hair, brushing it slowly until it looked presentable enough in the mirror. She hastily sprayed on the eau de cologne and brushed some lint off of her clothing.

At this point, she paid no mind that the viscount took the reins, Rosalein was simply content that she no longer had to hide. Silence took her as they made their way at the front of Waltz Castle. Perhaps she had underestimated Luciano after all. Soon, busy townspeople crowded the streets in front of the famous castle. It was time to get out of the carriage to grab their things, though the raven haired girl had almost nothing to carry other than her violin, her artist's supplies and a burlap sack filled with just the essentials. Rosalein would soon flee to her suite in the castle, set down her things, and explore what Euthalia had to offer.

"I-I sincerely apologize for making you worry." She finally gathered the courage to say. "An opportunity like this will never arrive again in a million lifetimes. I hope you understand." Rosalein stated, helping the other boys gather their things to the best of her abilities.

"Shall we go?"

❂ ❂ ❂​

After he had seen Rosalein properly situated, Klaus remained pensive for the rest of the drive. By some miracle of an unknown god, Luciano managed to actually navigate them successfully the rest of the way, only using two unnecessary "shortcuts," which the senator had abjectly navigated them out of. He was still overwhelmed with questions, but, for some reason, a part of him didn't want to probe with the viscount still there.

Almost as if he were subconsciously afraid of the answers he'd find
Premonitions he could only handle as half truths
At least, until the end of the Ball...

Of course Klaus knew his sister well. He was one of the few people she ever let her guard down around, and he took that responsibility quite seriously, doing his best to care for her over the years. How could he have missed her slight quirk of biting her lip, the desperate helplessness in her eyes?

But the bright streets of Saint Lyon were enough to pull him from his musings, returning his resilient spirit to what it had been before. The grand city resonated with an echo of Tenenbaum's splendor, and yet, from the shape of the buildings to the thrum of the populace, he could feel the nuances in their culture. The ornate Euthalian streets were beautiful in the way of a lost memory. Familiar. Pure. Full of potential. And for a moment, he felt little need to worry about whatever would happen next.

At last the trio spilled out into the bustling entranceway of Waltz Castle. They tried to keep as low a profile as possible despite the burgeoning crowd, since they were already running late and now Klaus had a whole new handful of duties to attend to. Rosa's attempts to assist the boys did not go unnoticed, though her brother silently took one of the suitcases she had been trying to pull out from the undercarriage. The partners hadn't brought any servants with them, and Klaus had made sure to pack in such a way that he didn't have anything he couldn't himself handle. Something of which he kept ducking his head to reassure the whispering maids pressing in around them.

"I do understand," he replied to his sister's quiet plea. All too well. "I didn't mean to make you worry earlier, I'm sure it will all work out. The spirit of Cendrillion is one of acceptance and welcoming, so how could King Regis possibly reject adding such a charming addition to the guest list?" He just couldn't stand the way she looked so guilty and ashamed, and already felt bad for going off on someone so frangible in his shock. Hoping to alleviate Rosa's remorse, he gave her one of his most assuring smiles.

Nearby one of the maids swooned.

"Let's go see where we're staying. I almost forgot...but you're right, the Suite should be plenty large enough to accommodate the both of us. After all, Mother, Father, and I were housed quite comfortably there the last time... isn't that so, Lucci?"

In response the viscount gave a sort of grunt, struggling to balance his miniature mountain of heavy luggages and, on top of everything, the bed still holding his contrarian cat. Despite his sour expression, Luciano was in quite the good mood, having proven himself to Rosalein by getting them to the castle much faster than Klaus ever could (or so he assumed). Though, unlike his friend, he was barely distracted by the now overfamiliar sights of the city and was feeling somewhat oppressed by all the onlookers and never-ending stream of bumbling servants. A part of him wanted to fling his things into the room and immediately head towards Practice Hall, but he knew that such actions simply weren't customary, and, more importantly, it would mean something to Klaus to do all the "traditional" stuff such as walk through the parade and dine with all the Representatives and greet the princess and so on, so on. Perhaps he could get through some warm ups to blow off steam before he'd be forced through all that. Plus a good wash would do him well. Rosalein might look like a feral animal, but it wasn't as if he and his partner hadn't also spent several nights roughing it in the woods. As this year's undoubted champion, he wanted to make a first impression that threw away any lingering shame of his previous debasement of second place.

"Here, let me take that." Just as Luciano's precarious stack of suitcases was about to fall, Klaus was there, scooping out one from underneath him. It seemed as if Galleria's Representative wasn't quite so popular with the staff. "I'm eager to see where we'll be staying."

As they followed the maids the senator's bright green eyes couldn't help but continue to widen at the luster of even the comparatively humble Princess's Château, woven with the kind of warmth that comes from visiting a place once familiar in seasons past. Every turn of the corner brought a new type of delight until he saw Luciano off- his room, thankfully, right next door -and entered into the glistening Ramerian Suite.

If Klaus had any recollection of what the salon looked like from his time visiting as a toddler, it was now completely changed. Wide windows surrounded the room offset by deep rust and crimson colored tapestries. While it was a bit heavy for his tastes, the modern style with its frivolous embroidery was undoubtedly Ramerian, and it really did feel like a home away from home.

The salon lead into four other compartments, consisting of two wide bed chambers each with their own small bath, a more sprawling bathing room which could be thought to double as a pool, reminiscent of the elegant "streets" of the Water Capital, and what could only be a practice room, outfitted with a piano as well as a Ramerian music machine, lined with bookcases on one side and mirrors on the other. It was the perfect setup.

"Yes, I think we'll be just fine here, the two of us," he announced, emerging from his exploration. That was when his eye caught the dual letters resting on the table. One stamped with Euthalia's seal, and the other addressed with Freya Diefenbach's unmistakable flowery hand. A little guiltily, Klaus figured there would be time enough for the latter, later. In the meantime, he quickly gathered as he read the first of the two missives, the pair of them had better get ready for a banquet.

Collab between Pretzel Heart , wizard nibblers , and @theglassangel ​

 

[hosaki]

Tristan Thaddeus Sinclair
Prince of Greedo

Their journey was likely the shortest of all that had to be made for the banquet. Still, Tristan found himself hard pressed to be grateful when the Greedo entourage had decided to sacrifice practicality in favor of pomp and circumstance – which was why he was currently parading through the city on horse after having traveled half a day by carriage. The length of the trip had not been long enough to warrant any special preparations for overnight travel, and as he was unaccustomed to foregoing sleep, he found himself dozing off in the carriage only to be jolted awake by every crag in the road.

Tristan managed to hide his fatigue and discomfort through sheer willpower alone. To the casual onlooker, he embodied his title perfectly: he sat atop his animal with easy grace and bestowed generous smiles upon the crowd, his cloak billowing out just so to disguise his lanky build. Before him marched a squadron of standard bearers and flautists, announcing his entrance with fanfare and heraldry. The fleurs-de-lis emblazoned onto the flags easily identified him as a royal hailing from Greedo and if there was anybody aroused to ill intentions by this fact, the pair of knights riding beside Tristan deterred such a person from acting on their impulses. Besides their obvious function to serve and protect, the knights themselves offered a spectacle to gawk and wonder at. Clad in ornate armor and draped in royal blue, these escorts where clearly not run-of-the-mill soldiers, but in fact elites of the Lilium Order. Of course, this meant that their weapons were also more decorated than the ordinary broadsword – a detail which quickly seized the admiration of young boys who reveled in tales of adventure and daring. The effect was further enhanced by the position of sun, which was high enough at this point to lend the Greedo procession a natural radiance. All in all, the sheer amount of sensory stimulation provided by the event whipped the people of St. Lyon Into a frenzy, though they usually remained unimpressed by visiting Greedan dignitaries. The closer the prince got to Waltz Castle, the larger the crowd grew. Men, women, children of all ages came running when they heard the hubbub outside, happy for some excitement to interrupt the mundanity of the everyday routine.

The procession had just passed Jive Park and the crowd was at its height when a rain of flowers showered down from the sky, accompanied by a scarcely audible tinkling of bells. The white blooms materialized from thin air and floated down like snow, trailing the scent of sweet jasmine and rose. It would have been the joy of the little girls present to catch even one in their small hands to keep as a souvenir, but each appeared to disintegrate upon contact. Naturally, this left many of them disappointed; at least until somebody discovered that they tasted pleasantly of sugar and soon children were sticking their tongues out to try some for themselves, despite the admonishments of their parents against such uncouth behavior.

Only when they had reached the castle grounds could Tristan break free of the public gaze. He still carried himself in a way befitting of a prince, but he’d dropped the pretense of receiving any joy from the attentions of the Euthalian people. Instead, his face grew grave, and whatever glamour his arien servants had cast on him to make him appear fresher faced fell away to reveal a young man much deprived in the way of sleep for many days.

“Will you be greeting His Majesty, the King Regis Mutton Euthalia?”

Tristan looked upon the young knight wearily. Even now, in another country, his duty dogged him. It was a fact of life he’d come to accept, yet... Today was not the day to answer to the call of duty, not when there was a more immediate concern to be addressed.

“Sir Allard, I would like to see my sister first. I shall entrust the accommodations of our entourage to you and Sir Lane.” With a flick of the reins, he navigated his mount towards the Princess Chateau at a quick trot, sending many unsuspecting servants scurrying for fear of being trampled underfoot.

The Chateau was already familiar to him from his periodic stays accompanying the chief diplomat of Greedo in maintaining cordial relations with Euthalia – hence, why he was able to locate the Greedo suite and rush to its doors (at the expense of the poor maids who had been charged with the task of showing him to his quarters).

The salon was disappointingly empty, which meant there was only the bedroom left to try, unless Dahlia had acted as was characteristic of her and had gone out despite her ill health. Normally, the ever courteous Tristan would have knocked and waited for an answer, but this time he could hardly restrain himself from barging in. Then, he remembered that a recovering patient would need peace and quiet, and managed to open the door with some semblance of composure.

The current nurse on watch looked up from her task of arranging the princess’s linens, clearly not expecting the arrival of a visitor. Seeing that it was the princess’s brother however, she quietly took her leave to give the two of them some privacy.

Was it his imagination, or did Dahlia look significantly thinner? Her face seemed smaller, her wrists more delicate. Still, her eyes were bright with life – a contrast which made his heart hurt all the more because it begged the question... Who could be so callous as to plot against a creature so sweet, so harmless as Dahlia?

“Are you... are you faring well? How has your stay in Euthalia been?”

Tristan attempted a smile, yet the slight crumple of his face and the glisten of unshed tears in his eyes betrayed him.

Syrenrei

 

[Syrenrei]

Dahlia Lenore Sinclair
Princess of Greedo
​

"Tristan!" While Dahlia's elder half-brother was a man of propriety and composure, whose calm demeanor and flawless etiquette charmed all, her charisma was in her earnest expressions and unrestrained warmth. A smile of unadulterated familial love lit up on her face immediately as she beheld his figure just inside the doorway to her temporary chambers. With the enthusiasm of a child on the advent of a celebration she tossed aside her covers, leapt from her bed, sprinted to Tristan, and hugged him so tightly that she felt as if her arms might bruise both of them. He was free to object to this sign of affection but she was firmly attached to him as an octopus to its prey. To the brunette princess he was a gift and a more fine one than any her parents could present on the holidays.

The discerning eyes of the Greedan prince were not wrong. Dahlia was indeed thinner and weaker than weeks ago in Greedo before her 'illness.' The arms that encircled him were not as forceful as they would have been otherwise. Still, she felt the rumpled clothes underneath her fingers and the beating heart in Tristan's chest below her turned head gave her strength. He had always been more comforting, even more than her father. Perhaps it was his affect or perhaps it was the knowledge that he shielded her from the responsibility of being a ruler. Even to Dahlia it was something of a mystery why Tristan occupied such a large part of her heart. All she knew was that one gaze from him, troubled and concerned, made her feel more secure and confidant in herself than any of the reassurances of doctors and maids.

"I feel rejuvenated now that you are here!" she said, still firmly latched. Knowing that he had to be getting uncomfortable, and that he'd want to see more of her face than what was buried in his shirt, she withdrew to standing in front of him with an impish smile. Tristan was astute. He'd almost certainly see her deft dodge of the query how she had been but it was not a topic she wished to visit. The more that her poor brother knew, the more his heart would ache, and the more he'd object to her attendance at the ball. Dahlia knew that Tristan was a skilled diplomat and politician, but she feared he'd be overly cautious with her health. The less concrete details she gave the more easily she could try to lead him to the conclusion that her symptoms had been exaggerated.

"I've been ordered to rest far too much, but they have a wonderful library." That was to say they had a less censored reading list than Greedo. Queen Iris was rather religious and had forbidden Dahlia from reading books she deemed 'too scandalous.' Now that he was free of his captor Tristan could see a tossed aside novel on Dahlia's bed that, given her smug look, was almost certainly on the banned list. It was hardly a secret that Dahlia objected to a more conservative lifestyle. Even as she was recovering from a life-threatening affliction she had been actively rebelling against the constraints that bound her at home.

"Sit down, you must be tired," Dahlia suddenly said, flitting over to one of her bedside chairs and dragging the antique over the floor to him as if he was unable to make the trip. It groaned against her rough approach and she struggled with its weight almost comically. Even prior to recent events she had been of a delicate build. That did not, however, prevent her from trying to ambitiously try things well past her ability. One time a handmaiden had found her sweet-talking a blacksmith into letting her swing a hammer down on his anvil despite the fact she could barely lift the hammer in question (and she was unable to lift it above her hips).

"I'm excited to finally meet all of the royalty! Last week mother ferried over a new dress for me," she prattled on. The new garment had a smaller waist so she didn't look quite so drowned in the gowns that had come to Euthalia with her. Dahlia knew the weight loss wasn't exactly ideal but she was determined to look on the bright side of things as always. It was a beautiful green color that matched her eyes- the only asset that she felt really comfortable in accentuating- and it could attract a suitor that would make Tristan and her parents happy. Were they still en route or already arrived? Would she be able to appeal with the princess of Marine and Euthalia both also here? It would be difficult but she had to try for her family.

hosaki

 

[Pretzel Heart]

100th Annual Cendrillion Ball ~ Day 1: Overture

The Banquet

Spoiler: Music

​

Status Report
Date: Iliosae, Cariya 1st
Time: Early evening (6:15 PM)
Weather: Cool and slightly windy

In union with the gentle fall of the sun, King Regis Mutto could feel his own already uneasy spirits damper at the thought of the oncoming banquet that would officially set off the month-long festivities.

Because of this, he was being uncharacteristically harsh, snapping orders at whichever servant was unfortunate enough to pass him by. The only one absolved of his temper was Balthasar, who retained an aloof expression contrary to his own inner misgivings as he shadowed the king, only trailing away to whirl from group to group, checking off preparations.

Greedo's unusual procession had whipped up the already oversized crowd into a veritable frenzy of excited hysteria. It was a busy enough year, what with it being the Centennial, Marine sending a Representative, and every royal (or formerly royal) heir on the continent rumored to be in attendance. King Regis was almost irritated at the neighboring country's scheme. Of course, he knew all too well the underlying play of power and politics that traced the Ball like an ugly tide, but with tensions being as high as they were, he had been hoping for a bit less pomp and a bit more tact. At least on the first day. It seemed as if the Representatives from the Sea Republic had also failed to arrive. Well, it wouldn't be the first time a party was late, though it was still an embarrassment. This was a particularly special year, after all.

The stationed guards of Waltz Castle had hands and paws full three times over. At just a little past 5:00 the road leading up to the former fortress has been opened, this being one of those rare days when the populace at large was welcomed up the hillside to observe the parade that announced Cendrillion's beginning - perhaps the last time they'd be able to see the chosen Representatives before the first competition at the end of the week, given the exclusivity of many of the Ball's formal activities. People from all over Roserasia had come to support their national Representatives, jostling over one another to catch even the momentary glimpse the comparatively humble procession would afford them. And, of course, there was money to be made, as bets were passed around and traded as easily as if the parade grounds had become a thriving market; bets over who would show up to represent each country, bets over who would partner with whom, and, of course, bets over which pair would win it all. Galleria's heir and his Ramerian partner were sure favorites, but there was a surprising amount of flexibility in whom people were willing to put up good seras to support. King Regis had felt something a guilty pleasure to hear whispers of his own daughter circling the grounds. Though he had been soured by the news, relayed to him moments later, that a separate pool existed over whether she would show up at all.

The parade would lead the Representatives across a carpet of roses that had been laid out by servants an hour before, taking them on a snaking route from the beautifully stain-glassed Wenceslas Tower to Waltz Castle's main entrance. It was meant to be a relatively short affair, though, as evidenced by the number in attendance, no less exciting than the opening of the Ball should be. As it was more of a ceremonial tradition than a fanatical one, there was little decoration beyond the vibrant blossoms- many gathered from Saint Lyon's own Tango Garden. At the head would be Falkor, dressed in full ceremonials and sitting proudly upon his dappled horse; Holwood, as Second in Command, had the right to ride alongside him, but, unlike his leader, the owl-based aria was a bit more concerned with managing the troupes than appearances. Two flag-bearers to flank the Captain, and King Regis and his daughter were slated to trail behind, followed by arien maidens to pick up their royal trains. It was custom for the Representatives to walk, something something about symbolism or some such laid out by that great King Sestina. King Regis wasn't as enamored with these kinds of superfluous traditions as most Euthalians, but not having to worry about providing mounts and having a bunch of youths galavanting about helped both security and the royal treasury, so he had never complained upon this point. Small but talented groups of arie had been hired to go in-between the Representatives and the ensigns to do tricks to entertain the crowd, but the most extravagant part of the procedure was undoubtedly a sampling of Dance Hall's orchestra, seated upon a decorated platform that would be moved by a final procession of servants at the back. The musicians' instruments had been specially manufactured to reach over the wide area with elegant, triumphant notes, and as it was always a treat to hear the renowned performers, their name alone was typically enough to draw a crowd. While guards lined the path, and, just out of sight of the populace, would be checking the Representatives to relieve them of any hidden weapons (a necessary precaution after the incident thirty years ago), security was yet a huge concern. Especially with this many this excitable.

Despite finding it unnecessarily bothersome, it was King Regis's duty as Euthalia's leader to start the procession, though at least this year he'd be able to take that honor alongside his daughter. Strangely there had been scarcely a word about her all day. He had half expected to receive news that she had a stomach ache, or the dress her servants had prepared wasn't functioning, or she couldn't find her dancing shoes, or any variety of similar excuses as to why she couldn't attend. But perhaps, the king dared to hope, she had finally realized that her time had come and there was no escaping the rushing current of destiny.

Before he would make his way, escorted by his loyal majordomo, around the back to the Château to meet with her, King Regis took one final stride through the dining hall. It was adorned by Waltz Castle's finest, with no less than a hundred arie in refined costume lining the walls in order to create magnificent allusions of starbursts of color and floating flames in various shapes, hues, and sizes balanced inside glass. Indeed the spectacle of the ceiling could only be outshone by the fineries of the glittering table set all in white, gold, and red- the color of royal Euthalia. The sharp contrast of the crimson was only one of many reminders that, despite the friendly openness that the tradition of the Ball had solidified for a hundred years, there was a stricter undercurrent flowing through it like blood.

The premier kingdom could only afford to open its doors for a full month because it was in full control, and had the resources in order to do so. It also didn't hurt their image to be able to claim possession over all the other countries' young heirs and related diplomats for a time each year. While rarely a king, queen, duke or duchess themselves joined in the festivities, there was a certain edge in being the shepherd of so many of Roserasia's leaders to be.

And by the end of this month, perhaps, that shepherd would face a new challenger.

The King paused his rabid pacing through the halls, mind resting upon his daughter once more. If she were to choose a partner over the next thirty days, it was very likely that it would lead to marriage. And thus whomever she chose to dance with would be in prime position to become the next Euthalian King.

It was a thought both comforting and unnerving. The ability to pass on the burden to someone else. The worry that they would not be ready. Would untangle the finely braided rope he had made of his continent back into the frayed strands that had plagued its peace for so long.

Still, it was hard for him to imagine such a one less inclined to rule than his own Evalyn.

Now the king was making his way towards her chambers. With a sigh he stepped up towards the door, a strange mixture of feelings texturing the jumble that was already clouding his head.

The fact that the princess was finally going to be the hostess for this year's event...

Her choosing a partner...

And, inevitably, at the end...

Marriage

Though she was far from perfect, she was his only child.

The king's hand, which had been posed to rap upon the door, remained still. Once he laid that hand down to rest on the finely polished, gold-inlaid mahogany...there would be no turning back.

The Cendrillion Ball would begin.

And then from inside he heard a strange commotion.

"Daughter?"

The King threw open the door.

"Evalyn, are you alright?"

✥ ✥ ✥​

Falkor sat atop his steed, already in view of the more anxious onlookers. He couldn't help but flash them a passing smile, a wink here and there, a friendly wave. Just as he was in the middle of one such display, he felt a rather firm, feathery thwack on his thigh. Holwood was staring up at him, a grim expression on his face.

"What's the holdup, old boy? I thought we were supposed to start ten minutes ago?"

"It's the king," was the owl's solemn reply. He had just spent the majority of those ten minutes listening to the thunder of his anger. While everyone in the kingdom seemed to be enjoying themselves, getting dressed up and riled up for their fancy dinner party, Holwood had spent the day in a flurry of more strenuous activity. Waltz Castle had once been a fortress, but even the thickest walls in the world cannot protect someone who is prancing outside their perimeter. Or wayward princesses who decided to up and disappear.

Why hadn't anyone told him? Of course, it wasn't as if he had the manpower to spare. But there could have been an extra set of idle hands, paws, or claws somewhere. Like that Katja woman...she was a huntress, wasn't she? Had she been doing anything important? Perhaps she had the skills to track down the princess.

Why hadn't anyone told the king?

"Princess Evalyn is missing, apparently. Has been missing since this morning. Instructor Celso couldn't find her, Sir Kip is nowhere to be seen. At this rate, it's impossible to know if this is one of her games, or something more...nefarious."

Despite himself, the Second in Command rather hoped it was the latter. He was known to be handy at investigations, and it had been quite some time since his skills had been put to any real use. Lost baking pans and missing pets were hardly a challenge worthy of his time. But someone infiltrating the most important social event of the season? To kidnap the Euthalian princess, no less!

Of course, it wasn't as if he truly wished the girl harm. But he and the cat majordomo had just gotten the bulk of the king's wrath, on a day when everyone was already at their limit, and it would be nice if something good could come of it.

"You're kidding! Well, we can't stand around here, then! The parade will be too dangerous, we'll have to cancel--"

"The king wishes to continue as if nothing has happened."

"But--"

"It's fine, Falkor."

At that moment the man in question strode up, majordomo slinking guiltily behind him. Falkor rather imagined his usually taunt whiskers to be drooping. It was a rare instance that Balthasar failed the king. But even said king's face was as sour as Falkor had ever seen it in all his years of service.

"My wife and the Representatives of the Sea Republic will also not be in attendance. No one expected her to appear, in any case. What's one more missing face to add to the collection?"

With a curt nod of his head, the rather perplexed-looking conductor of the orchestra turned around, raised his baton, and the procession could finally begin. *Press Play*

Using every ounce of strength he could summon, King Regis did his best to cordially greet the crowd, which had already begun screaming at the thrum of the concert pitch. He was rarely one for this sort of thing, and today, of course, his mood hung even more heavily than usual about him. But his stride remained steady, well-paced, and confident. Only once did his eyes stray to his side, where his daughter should have been....though he was careful not to give the crowd much satisfaction in that regard. Trying not to think of all the satisfied gamblers now claiming their seras, he instead wore her absence with pride. As impenetrable a fortress as ever.

And so, King Regis made the interminable journey back towards Dining Hall. Various guests who wished to escape the flurry of the parade had already been allowed entrance and shown to their seats. Other than the Representatives, who each held a position of honor nearest to the king, there were other members of the lesser Euthalian nobility, a few of the wealthier, well-known merchants who had been able to ingratiate themselves enough to earn an invite, the princess's dance instructor who had been accorded honors to match his position as her partner for the evening, and the few newcomers whom the king's instructions had invited up from the bustle of Saint Lyon. While servants had been filling glasses with water and fruit wine, in reverence to the royals, there was not a crumb of food yet in sight.

Though the guests had all been speaking quite rambunctiously among themselves, the fervor buzzing around the start of the continent's most famous and beloved tradition hovering around them like moths at a lamp, at the strong brass that signaled the king's arrival, the hall fell silent. Through closed lips the chords of the parade outside could still be faintly heard, a reverberation of the tasteful arrangement the royal composer had constructed combining each country's national anthem; having needed to be re-written this year for the first time in decades to incorporate the newly invited Marine.

The head of the table remained mostly empty, denied its queen, princess, the Sea heirs, and, as a sign of respect, the seat where the Representative of Lepumir should have been. But King Regis showed his disappointment at none of this. Once the Representatives who had bothered to arrive on time were all situated and the roars of the procession had quieted down, he took a few moments to address his guests. Never being one for great words, he gave a terse speech of welcome that was made contradictorily frosty, given his dour mood.

Having more or less repeating the sentiments found in the Banquet invitation letter, there was only one significant addition:

"As this tradition has shown, there has been peace and friendliness tying Roserasia together for one hundred years. Even in the face of adversity, We shall not stop in Our dedication to progress, ensuring a bright future for these, Our leaders of tomorrow. Let this year's most excellent celebration be a reminder of that."

His only other acknowledgement to the Lepumirian tragedies was a slow turn to look at where Prince Lysander had, just a year before, sat. Glacial gaze rested there for a long moment before turning back to the crowd. There was something of a challenge burning in his eyes.

But then King Regis Mutto took his seat, signaling the arien servants to begin bringing in the first course.

"But for now...Welcome to the Ball."

✥ ✥ ✥

Let the Festivities Begin!

In your post, try and resolve whatever loose ends remain from your opening, but now is the time to interact! Since you will not have seen each other for a very long time (if ever at all), feel free to play on that. The parade order will follow as is typical (Euthalia, Rameria, Galleria, Greedo, Marine, Dorimun, Sea, Nezzie, Lepumir), but you can post in any order. From the parade your character(s) will have a quick "security check" before being led into the Banquet Hall.

As for seat positions, it's like this:

[Head of Table] King (right) Queen (left)
[King Side] = Evalyn, Klaus, Luciano, Tristan, Dahlia, Other guests
[Queen Side] = Naomi, Asuran, Jervis, Brand, Kiefer, Lepumirian Representative, Other guests

Hope that makes sense! If not...eh, just wing it.

Happy RPing!

ParadoxalPaladin Unwavering Knight The Succubi Queen Olissa Orikanyo Rapror Augustine Peppermint Patty Renn Skye hosaki @theglassangel Syrenrei isapi Raven Kade
​

 

[ParadoxalPaladin]

Asuran Dorix
Duke of Dorimun
​

With a groan, Asuran awoke to the knocking of a servant upon the door to his suite, and forced himself from the bed. As he made his way to the door, the light streaming in through his window gave him an idea of what message the man would bring.

As he pulled open the door, the arie gave a short bow before speaking. "Sir, I have been asked to inform you that is currently four o'clock, and you may want to begin preparations for the opening parade." At this the servant gave a glance to Asuran's rumpled appearance.

"I shall do so immediately. Thank you." Asuran replied tersely before closing the door and getting to work. A short search revealed a simple restroom in one of the rooms adjacent to the salon, and there Asuran scrubbed his face with water from the washbasin before gathering a new shirt, peacoat, and trousers from his bags.

After putting them on, a quick look in the mirror assured him that they all fit correctly and the colors properly matched, and thus, finding himself to be presentable, he quickly made his way out of his rooms, asking a servant directions to where the procession would meet before the parade began.

The young duke arrived just in time to join the group of representatives leading the parade, mentally berating himself for his tardiness. The complete lack of either of the Sea Republic representatives a quick glance at the group revealed made him feel a bit better however, and before he could think too much he was already being led forward by the King himself into the midst of a massive crowd.

Surrounded by so many people, Asuran stood up stock strait and kept his head facing forwards as he marched onwards past the crowds, trying his best to exude confidence. After all, his entire country's reputation was on the line.

Finally, the group made it to the banquet hall, upon stepping inside which Asuran had his breath taken away. It was all he could do not to gape in awe at the lavish wealth on display both in the finery arrayed across the table in front of him and in the huge number of Arie lining the ceiling. He was directed to his seat in a daze, and only snapped out of it when King Regis's speech began.

Once he had finished, Asuran gave a firm nod in approval of most of the speech, before finally taking a moment to look at those around him. To his left sat the quite intriguing Marine Princess, and to his right was an empty chair, presumably that of a missing Sea Republic representative. And so, with that, he settled in for a meal to remember.

 

[Peppermint Patty]

Chantie was in quite the rush today- quite the rush, indeed. Of course, there wasn’t much more he could be angry at that wasn’t himself- this was, intentionally or not, all his doing- but nevertheless, it was what it was- and what that was happened to be his tardiness to the ball. Yes, he knew he should’ve woken up early- and he tried to- but it just didn’t work out. Let’s reverse back to about three days ago, shall we?

It was the best week of his life, this week was. And the reason for that was because, for the first time ever, he’d be able to achieve his lifelong dream- attending the Cendrillion Ball. And this wasn’t just a normal attendance, either- no, for a good long while now, he’d been good buddies with the royal family of Greedo- to the king and queen, in business, and with the prince and princess in a bit of a acquired friendship through the proxy of their parents and his business ventures. Though this was the case, it wasn’t until this year that he’d be getting some big benefits through this relationship- yes, the prince and princess would allow him to attend the ball alongside them as an assistant- much better than his old plan, which had just been to apply to work as a caterer. What an experience this would be, attending the ball as a guest with royalty, allowed to speak with others as equals! Such a position in the arian world was uncommon, so these circumstances were very lucky indeed.

The plan was simple- he was to stay in a hotel in the Euthalia Kingdom fifteen days prior to the ball itself, and on the morning of said ball, meet prince Tristan and enter it alongside him.

But here’s where he botched everything up…

The Euthalia Kingdom was a polarizing opposite of the Greedo Kingdom- the town he was staying in temporarily, after all, was extremely active, tons upon tons of shops and the like lining every street. He’d been saving up months prior for this visit, and so when he got there, he considered it to be much like a well-deserved break from work. Daily, he spent his time roaming the streets, the outskirts, meeting new people, eating new food- he couldn’t wait for this grand party to finally start.

But it seemed as if all that mucking around had taken a toll on his energy- and, on top of the fact that he’d spent all night before today tossing and turning in excitement, it wasn’t a great omen to the thought of waking up early. In fact, he only fell asleep around three in the morning…

And then he woke up at three in the afternoon.

There was no hope of getting to the castle before five- the streets were so flooded, he could barely move an inch a minute- oftentimes, he would think he was making progress in the crowd, only to realize he was going in a circle. On and on and on this went for about two hours or so, but after enough work, he could finally see the castle for a brief second through the moving crowds of people.

Now, nearly six twenty, he had finally made his way to the jam-packed entrance of the ball- where stood another obstacle he’d forgotten. Castle guards…

Just how was he going to get in with Tristan and Dahlia without them present? To everyone else, he was just a rather odd-looking, but not particularly special aria. But, it’s not like you can just go into this without trying- so, he mustered up some courage, approaching doglike arien guard.

“H-h-hello, sir, I’m, uh… I’m- um… My n-name is Chantie, C-H-A-N-T-I-E, Basura… I’m suh-supposed to- supposed to be in here with Greedo, y’know, Tristan and Dahlia and those g-guys?.. I was uh- I was-“

He was sweating profusely now- this wasn’t good. He was always one to fluster easily, but mingled with fear, he was now but a pile of white fur whom was obsessively adjusting the collar on his admittedly nice-looking, wine-green-colored dress suit. His stammering became a bit jumbled at this point, to the extent of it becoming hard to understand…

“… Haha, I sh-should’ve been here with T-tristan this m-morning but things went wrong and I woke up late and I got stuck in this traffic and they never gave me a card or invitation to show or anything and- and- and-“

He slowed to a halt again and finally decided to get to the point, wincing- he knew that the response he was about to get was likely some form of “no”-

“… C-can I come in, sir?.."

Mentioned: Tristan ( hosaki ), Dahlia ( Syrenrei ), the Guards ( Pretzel Heart Rapror Augustine )
Anyone feel free to join in on this if you're available and feel you want to- of course, as long as it makes sense as to where you are!
​

 

[Unwavering Knight]

For the Lady.

The mingling with the parade held limited interest for Helbrecht. As much a novelty as it was to behold humans and arie devoid of worry and upfilled with leisure, his helmeted view kept wandering off to the alleys on the sides, built in such confines that even the daylight could not penetrate their depths. The novelty wore off, and the knight quickly made for the castle proper.

Following the procession of nobles, representatives and other guests into the banquet hall, the knight's fully armored frame stood out most unfittingly amongst the lavish colors and proud visages. The guards had eyed him warily, even as he presented the king's seal upon the invitation while discarding the withered, rusted sword he had carried with him. Even now a good number of their watchful gazes were trained in his general direction.

The other guests regarded him as a curiosity at best, an eyesore at worst. Many would agree; an attire for battle was not suited for festive purposes such as this. And to appear masked where everyone else only wore pride upon their faces was commonly viewed as either affront or cowardice. To the knight, it was a strangeness with humans and arie.

Paying little heed to whatever stares he received, the knight moved with the procession of guests, guided by several arien servants. One with canine features directed the steel-clad frame towards a seat some distance from the head of the table. Hesitation written in the wolvish face, the servant slowly drew the chair back, offering the delicate woodwork to the fully armored knight.

The knight took his seat, the aria took a pronounced step back. For a few seconds all seemed fine, the chair giving only a few creaks. Then suddenly the entire construct fell in on itself, the iron knight falling backwards in a shower of wooden splinters before the armored frame hit the ground with a jarring grating as steel plates impacted upon stone.

Silence. For a few moments, all that most could do was stare at the prone form of Helbrecht, flat on his back. A few hushed laughters intoned from onlookers, some of the servants began moving to assist the fallen guest.

Then something strange happened.

The knight rose. Though not by levering his body upwards with his hands or arms. Defying gravity, the knight's mammoth frame simply rose from the ground as if being pulled upwards by invisible strings. The fact that his plated feet were planted firmly on the ground gave way to the almost equally unlikely assumption that he was turned his entire frame upwards by an exact fourty-five degrees solely through the muscles in his legs.

Standing again, and as such towering over all those present, the knight's helmeted gaze slowly wandered over the assembled guests. "Hail." his ugly voice intoned "I am I, Helbrecht, knight of the Lady." Wasting no glance upon the remains of the chair still surrounding him, the knight simply seated himself on the stone-floor, giving a somewhat humorous sight when one considered the festive surroundings.

Chair or not, he would remain as part of the table-round.

 

[Olissa]

EVALYN 'EVA' JONES​

Someday... Someday I'll have my adventure in a far away land ~ Eva

The alarm clock had gone off again bright and early. Instantly the figure under the covers had risen and smacked the snooze button.
It was a miracle the thing was still in one piece, considering how Evalyn, better known to her friends as Eva, tended to handle it. One hard smack on the top. That usually shut it up for the next 9 minutes.
Without barely batting an eye the girl had turned right around and had flopped back in her comfy bed.

Sure enough, 9 minutes later the brave little alarm clock sounded once more. Once more the figure rose with covers and all.
Oh what she wouldn't give to not have that thing wake her. Just for a day.
It's not that Eva hated the mornings. She just hated waking up.
Instead of the snooze Eva switched her alarm clock off and slid out of bed.
Sitting on the floor she stretched out her legs straight forward and leaned over them for a good stretch.

Whereas most people need coffee in the morning to wake up, Eva used exercise to wake herself. It took more time, but it was worth it.
In between stretches she grabbed her phone to check her schedule.
No flower shop today, just ballet classes and afterwards helping the little ones with their performance. Today the youngest class would be showcasing what they had learned to their parents, and Eva had signed up to help the little girls and one boy get ready behind the scenes. Just thinking about it made Eva smile. It reminded her of her own first performance. How nervous she had been. She ended up messing up on stage because of it. In tears she had run to her parents, thinking the teacher was going to be mad at her.
Of course those had only been worries of a nervous little girl. The teacher had been encouraging, saying she had done her best and next time it would be even better because she wouldn't be so nervous anymore. Sure enough, each and every following time had been better and better.

With her head reliving the old days her muscles were sufficiently warmed up and ready to tackle the day. A quick change of clothes. A pair of stretchy jeans and tank top were all that were needed in this weather. Tie her hair in a high ponytail. Apply some basic make-up. Give it all a quick once over and after a nod of approval Eva head out to the kitchen to get herself some breakfast.


With tendrils of the desparate chase and the dark night still clinging to them, the unusual pair of princess and magical talking animal tumbled quite unceremoniously onto a hard floor.

"We...We did it, Princess! We made it to the other world in one piece!"

It took Kip a while to regain his composure. Performing the exhausting spell under such taunt circumstances had taken a lot out of him. Not to mention there were still countless doubts and questions zinging through his mind. He couldn't shake the ongoing mantra of 'just what have I gotten myself into...?'

"Yup, looks like we did!"

Evalyn, on the other hand, was much faster on the upkeep. After all, this was her first time outside Roserasia! Immediately she sprang to her feet, taking in all the new sights. Well, this world wasn't made out of chocolate. And there didn't appear to be any dragons, either. In fact, the room they now found themselves in was quite...plain. There was what she could only guess to be a bed to one side, though it was nowhere near the luxury and brilliant interior design that she was used to. Still, there was a quaintness about the place. Somewhere that looked lived-in. Homey.

"Hm...I think we're in some kind of bedroom... Could it belong to...her?" The princess's eyes sparkled with their particular thrum of mischief as she turned to her tutor.

"I...I'm not sure." By this time Kip had managed to straighten out his cape and glasses, floating over to hover near his ward's shoulder. He was still immensely curious about what had spooked her back at the castle, but just seeing how the young woman had lit up as she went around exploring the unfamiliar surroundings made him hesitant to bring up something which had undoubtedly caused her anguish. She was obviously avoiding the topic for a reason. "This isn't where I came out from last time. When I first saw your doppelgänger, she seemed to be attending to some sort of flower shop."

"A flower shop! Really?" The princess could already picture herself spending all day handing out cute little bouquets and corsages, just like when she was a child playing shopkeeper. It sounded so nice. Gee, this was going to be easier than she thought; she’d be out of trouble in no time!

On top of the spartan furniture, there were a variety of odd appliances in the room. Evalyn's curious emerald eyes followed what appeared to be black ropes stuck into the wall connecting many of them. Not to mention the odd flower-shaped thing hanging on the ceiling, some strange, smooth-skinned knick knacks on what could have been a desk...

Instinctually she reached out to touch one of these- what she could only assume must be -weird magical accessories.

"Princess, be careful!"

Kip automatically appeared between hand and object, throwing up his paws in defense.

"Aw, come on, Kip. I'm going to be living here for a full month! I'll have to get used to things sooner or later." Evalyn bypassed the aria to begin fidgeting with the desk's collection of objects. She honestly wasn't sure whether they were weapons or writing utensils. Though she rather hoped it was the former. "Do you think we should just wait here?"

"...I don't know. We're not even sure that this is her room."

At that moment a collection of sounds pricked up the aria's large ears, and both parties turned towards a barely just noticed door. There was definitely something moving about beyond.

"Maybe we should investigate." Not waiting for an answer, Princess Evalyn darted forwards, eagerly flinging herself from the room. Kip let out a heavy sigh at the young woman's exuberance, thinking that it would be a hundred times safer and just an overall better course of action if they were to remain in cognito. But, he supposed, sooner or later there was going to be no helping it. Besides...time was of the essence.

The doorway opened to an empty, somewhat cramped hallway which appeared to branch into other doorways leading to, what could only be assumed, other rooms. At this, at least, Kip could give his nod of approval. Whoever lived in such a house wasn't completely destitute. Not if they could afford to accommodate so many spaces.

Following the noises they were led down down the hall, with the girl pausing to admire the clarity of the magical photographs hung there - much more vibrant and glossy than anything she had seen coming out of Rameria! - until it opened up into a breathier area where Princess Evalyn came face-to-face with a mirror.

Except it wasn't a mirror.

It was a young woman wearing strange clothes, bright red hair pulled up into the style of a warlord.

"Y-You must be the me of this world! Nice to meet you!" The princess gushed, her eyes wide as she took in what could only be her much foretold doppelgänger. She immediately closed the gap between them, holding out a hand with a bright smile while Kip tried to make desparate signals for her to hold off in the background. "What's your name?" No matter how in awe she was at the circumstances before her, she thought she could at least put her tutor's tiny heart to the slightest rest by remembering her manners.


Breakfast generally consisted of fruit and granola. It was simple, healthy, and effective for powering her through the first part of the day.
She sat down with it at the table and started eating. Lazily she was scrolling through her Facebook page when suddenly a loud thump was heard.

The hairs on her arms and back of her neck stood on end. She knew for a fact that she was home alone. Neither did she own a pet that could have caused a sound like that. So what was it. Motionless Eva sat there in her seat, ears pricked up. All that moved on her were her eyes, scanning her surroundings.
Her heart was still racing from being startled. The loud thumping interfering with hearing anything in relation to that thump. She really should never, ever, watch a horror movie again. Couldn't really stomach them to begin with. At least it wasn't in the middle of the night.

There.

The sound of murmurs. Someone talking. Oh great this really was starting to become a horror movie. Shivers ran down her spine.
No. Wait. She had to be smart about this.
It was wonderful to have a lively and active imagination, except in times like these. In times like these she had to be rational and grounded in reality. Or at the very least fake it till she made it.

Alright, so if this wasn't a ghost, or some monster, or a murderer, what was it. Most likely a burglar. Or something heavy had simply accidentally tipped over in her room. Though, what? And then the voices didn't make sense.
By this time Eva had indeed deduced that there were at least two voices. For one, who would talk to themselves, and two, it sounded like a conversation.

Quietly, carefully, Eva slid off of the chair and reached for the knife block on the sink. Slowly she lifted one of the knives out of its holding place and gripped the handle firmly.
It was here that her expertise in dancing actually had a practical use. Creeping towards the hallway was nearly without sound.

Step.
Step.

The sound on the other end of the door also seemed to come closer. Eva stood still as a statue, breathing shallow breaths, ready to defend herself on a moment's notice.

The door opened and in that instant the blade of the knife wedged itself in the floorboards by her feet.
Frozen in a mixture of disbelief and fear Eva had unwittingly loosened the grip she held on the knife, letting it plunge to the ground.

What.
Was.
That.

Or better yet who, but for now her mind was not going to cooperate.
An exact copy of herself. Like a twin, a mirror. A fluke of nature. A glitch in the Matrix.
A weird glitch since this one had a historical inspired gown on.

It was when the other suddenly moved and came towards her with haste that Eva screamed in utter fright and dove backwards. There's no way this could be real right.
“What is going on?" She shouted. Most else that followed were just individual words being sputtered. Attempts at making a sentence but having no clue what to say.
It perhaps was a good thing she hadn't even noticed the little flying companion yet.


The princess's eyes widened as they followed the knife's fall to the floor, her previously proffered hand lowering alongside it. Only to fly back up to her mouth in a giggle of delight.

"Ooh, she's spunky! You were right, Kip! We really do share a soul!"

Of course, the aria wasn't so enthused about this reception. He floated down towards the weapon, gently taking it between his tiny paws to replace on the nearest surface. He had read that this world was relatively tame...and yet they kept something so small and dangerous so close at hand? Was it typical for the people here to carry around knives? In that case, at least Evalyn wasn't helpless when it came to handling a blade... Or was it only to be suspected, the two of them just barging in without even an invite or letter of announcement? For not the last time, Kip wondered on a scale of losing-his job to being-roasted-alive how terrible this plan had been. They had already scared the doppelgänger...what if she couldn't be convinced? At this point, wasn't it out of the question to coax even the real princess back? But no, he had to remain positive. Who wouldn't want to take the place of royalty? How hard could it be?

"Careful, Princess. I believe your hasty actions have alarmed our host. Remember, we are the ones asking for her help."

At least she was alight with what seemed a newfound confidence, very far removed from the tired paranoia of only a few moments before. Perhaps she has a plan. Maybe this is one of those rare moments where her diplomacy shines through!

"Hey, she's the one who ignored my question!" Kip's prayers were only greeted by a pout, his ward folding her lace-covered arms around her. "Well, if you won't introduce yourself, we can go first. I'm Princess Evalyn Sabine Euthalia, and this is my tutor."

"That would be one Kip Hamoon Stallon the 77th, at your service."

As he spoke his long, illustrious name the aria brightened. After all, it was a title which had been handed down through the generations, and he had a right to be at least a little proud of his honorable heritage.

"As he said, we came here to ask you a favor..."


Eva's feet moved backwards on their own when the little flying... hamster... came forward and picked up the knife. What the actual bad word was going on here?
Share a soul? What?
Not at all understanding what the girl in the poofy dress was talking about she looked back up to her with raised eyebrows.

And then the thing talked. Seriously what was that? She hadn't heard of little flying toys being sold recently. Something small and sophisticated like that would have definitely made the news.
Actually, wait that wasn't the issue here. How did that girl get in her home? And her face. And her name apparently. For the most part.

"Evalyn Jones." She stated for her own introduction, not entirely sure why she was responding anyway. "Look I don't know what's going on, but how did you get into my house and why are you dressed like that?" Her eyes darted towards Kip. "And what is that?" Not even entertaining the idea that that flying mouse was an individual.


"No way! We even have the same name?" Evalyn's eyes brimmed like a child's unwrapping an unexpected toy on Modraniht.

"That is an aria," Kip overrode the princess's glee, feeling more than a little rebuffed by the (apparently other) Evalyn's dismissal, "and as I had hoped to make clear, the Princess's royal tutor and instructor, Kip Hamoon Stallon the 77th. Of course, being named after--"

"Kip, we don't have time for that story!"

"Oh, sorry, I just lose all sense of time when it comes to my name. You may just call me 'Kip.' It is a pleasure to meet you." He pasted on a friendly smile, blushing slightly as he gave a little bow. He decided, for the sake of the plan and his last remaining shreds of sanity, to forgive the slight against him. The poor girl looked somewhere between confusion and terror, after all. Perhaps it was the devilish way her expression echoed that of the princess when she had first came of age, realizing all of the responsibilities needed to support her breezy life, that moved in him some pity. "Sorry for all the informalities."

"She's my doppelgänger, she'll be fine! But oh, this old thing?" By this time Princess Evalyn had skipped around to stand directly in front of her double, lifting her wide pearlescent skirts as if examining them for the first time. "I just told you, I'm a princess! If you agree to help us out, you'll get to wear lots of dresses like this. Erm...is what you're wearing now typical of royalty in this world? Or are you po--"

"What the Princess means to say is that there will be much to get used to on both sides. That is, if you will hear us out."

Kip flew forward just in time to interject over his ward's faux pas. He would have to have a bit of a chat with her later on inter-world diplomacy, it would seem... At least she was relaxed and genuinely invested in the conversation, which was more than the aria could say about most of the princess's attempts at politics. Still, the other Evalyn was dressed rather plainly. Though she was clean, healthy-looking, and seemed to not be starved, so she couldn't be too poorly off... But as she certainly didn't dress like nobility, would she know how to act like one? Even if this Evalyn enjoyed dancing, as he had observed, the Ball was on a completely different level...

"That's right." The princess recovered herself, and, surprisingly, her grin became serious as she began her plea. As much as she wanted to instantly run off and explore the possibilities of this strange new world...well, there was business to attend to. She couldn't be completely irresponsible. She knew how much of a risk this was, for herself, and especially for Kip, "You see…we came from another world, just beyond your closet. At least, I think it's your closet. Anyways, the thing is, our kingdom hosts a month-long annual dance party called the Cendrillion Ball. I'm supposed to partner with some other kingdom's prince for the event...but......I'm really bad at dancing, and not so great with princes, either. So I ran away! But this year I simply have to go since I’ve come of age and all, and there's politics involved and-- But don't worry! I'm sure Kip can brief you on that, he’ll help you through. "

Here she gestured at the floating servant, who came to hover by her shoulder, trying his best to look proud despite his misgivings.

Oh yes. I’ll brief her on everything. Leave it aaall to me.

But the aria immediately felt guilty for these thoughts as the speech continued, and Evalyn's confident eyes dipped down to her hands, now writhing at her waist.

"Everyone knows I’m rather bad at these sorts of things, so it’s not too much of a bother if you can't perform perfectly, or act strange..." But then she looked up to meet the other Evalyn once more, her expression nothing if not earnest. "So...do you think you can help me? Don’t worry, I’ll take your place, too, so you won’t have to worry about your responsibilities here, and you’ll have access to all my things at home, so... please, would you?” She finished, a bit out of breath and flashing the most convincing smile she could muster.


There wasn't really a place to interject. Things just went so fast at a certain point. She opened her mouth to speak once or twice, and once the plea had come she took another deep breath. "I-" Nope. She paused and averted her gaze. "I need to sit down."

All the information had been a tad much. She was being pranked, wasn't she? No this was way too far fetched for a prank.
Eva flopped down in a chair nearby. Her gaze still absent as her mind tried to make sense of the overload of information that had just been thrown her way.

So this was a princess from Narnia, that sucked at dancing, who was running away from a ball that lasts a month where there are princes... So why was she running again? Aside from being bad at dancing?
All of this seemed like the weird beginnings of some sort of fairytale.

As much as her head was spinning, Eva couldn't deny that light flutter in her heart that made her feel exited. While they hadn't explicitly stated to trade places (right?) it sure sounded like that. She should refuse. It would be the most sane thing to do.

But what if...

She couldn't help but be super curious. If anything she would want to ask tons and tons of questions. But the questions wouldn't satisfy the curiosity in the end would it. No. It wouldn't. Just from the snippets she had heard the curiosity spark had already been lit and was burning in her mind. She would be wondering about this for the rest of her life if she didn't check it out. Not to mention, if she refused now, she was never going to see this girl again was she.
Eva's gaze moved over to Evalyn.

Living like a princess certainly tickled her fancy. But she doubted the reverse would be true.
"Are you sure you'd be willing to live a whole month as a commoner?" It was a valid concern. Even more so because eventually Eva would return and then have to pick up the pieces of her daily life. Not to mention what might happen to Evalyn if Eva messed anything up in her kingdom.

"To live here, with no servants. To go to work, go to ballet classes, take care of your own meals, and do everything in my daily routine. " Oh no, the children. She'd have to cancel on them because this princess knew nothing about what the kids had to do. Maybe she could get a leave from her ballet classes too. Work would be tough on such a short notice. Especially since she'd need one hell of an excuse why the manager won't show up with only a day's notice. The princess would just have to deal with it she figured. But no way was she going to let Evalyn ruin her reputation as a dancer.
"Don't get me wrong, it's not that I refuse. I just don't want to put you in a spot where you might end up wishing you had stayed home.”


Kip's furry eyebrows raised towards Evalyn...the princess Evalyn, at the...common Evalyn's words. This was quickly going to get confusing. In any case, the arie was actually a bit surprised at the girl's ability to ask something so reasonable under the circumstances. He had his doubts still, that much was certain, but perhaps this other worlder could be trusted after all. If the legends were true, and doppelgängers really did share a soul...... Well, it certainly wasn't the reaction he would have expected. If their places had been switched, doubtlessly the princess would have leapt at the chance without any attempt at thorough consideration.

As she had, in fact, already done, come to think of it...

Said princess had stopped ringing her hands, though her gaze had once more dropped down to them. For what felt like a long time she was silent, as if fully mulling over the other Evalyn's words. Then she rose to meet her gaze full on, emerald eyes locking across the room.

"Yes." So this girl really was a commoner...but did that really matter? All around her were already so many amazing and wonderful things that she couldn't have back at the palace. She was curious about what all the strange, smooth magical accessories did, and what other untold surprises might be waiting beyond the house's walls.

Point being, she had already made up her mind. Though a lot had happened over just one evening, and her head was jumbled with so many conflicting fears and thoughts, the one thing that was certain was that she couldn't dance at the Cendrillion Ball. Literally anything would be preferable. She had brought enough with her in her little pack. She had spent time in the kitchens. And she would learn. Somehow or the other, she would get by.

"I've already thought it through. I can do this. I want to do this." In her gaze Kip could see reflected a sort of determination that sat more grimly in the hallowed eyes of her father, the stern king. The two of them certainly shared the same stubbornness when it came to putting their mind to something. "Besides, what are you worrying about that for? You like dancing, right? Just take the next month to have fun! I've spent my whole life running a kingdom. I'm sure I can look after things here. You can even leave me some notes, if you'd like"

"But nothing too detailed. In truth, if there is a decision to be made one way or another, it best be done quickly." If he would indeed be taking home a replacement, one day was hardly enough to prepare her for the long month ahead. Every second was time wasted. Time that they risked being discovered. "And don't worry. I shall hardly be leaving the princess alone for long. She is in my care, after all. I'll check up on her with every spare moment--"

"Kip! You don't have to worry. I've got it handled."

He resisted making a comment about just what exactly had gotten them into this predicament in the first place, and with a sad sort of simper merely bowed his head.


Eva heaved a heavy sigh. So this was really happening. A weird mixture of worry and excitement boiled within her. It's true she was so curious about this fantasy land. And to be able to dance to her hearts content for a whole month, no doubt getting a chance to learn her world's style of dancing.
Far-off places, daring sword fights, magic spells, a princess in disguise.

"I'll need to make some calls first." Eva replied after perhaps a pause too long. First things first, call the dance school, then write the directions to the flower shop, some basic instructions she's going to need as manager, like the code to the alarm system and how to work the cash register. Oh and where she can get her groceries. Can't have the girl starve.

Eva walked away, her head already going over everything she'd need to do, knowing full well she was likely going to forget half the stuff she would have to explain. Not that there was time, apparently there was some haste behind it. At least being busy making a list was helping her to keep that screaming voice quiet in the back of her head. The one that kept telling her what the heck she was doing. That this was insane.

Briefly Eva popped her head around the corner. "Oh if you're going to stay here, you can't go around dressed like that. In my room down that hall you'll find a closet. It's not much, but I think you'll be able to at least find a shirt and a pair of pants there."
As she left again she called "If you want to stay here, you're gonna have to look the part princess."

After having called the dance school and circled a few key places on the map with some basic instructions, Eva came back to find Evalyn. "Alright, I took care of things on my end.”


"Calls?" Evalyn tipped her head as she watched the curvy form that was an echo of her own fade into another room.

"Probably a form of communication. Could be related to 'calling on' someone...?" Kip couldn't deny his curiosity to investigate; on his previous visit he hadn't spent enough time in this world to really gauge what their magic was like. But he would have plenty of time to query the other Evalyn about that later. For now he wanted to make the most of his last moments with his ward.

"I still can't believe she agreed! That was way easier than I thought it was gonna be."

"It seems that she is just as impulsive as Your Highness."

"Who are you calling impulsive!?"

"Er...did I say that out loud?"

The princess flashed Kip a perturbed look before turning to admire other aspects of the room. It appeared to be attached to a kitchen, and while some of the appliances were familiar to her, there were plenty that were not. More importantly, she wondered what kinds of specialty food they had... Innocently the princess poked past cabinet doors, finding lots of boxes and metal containers but not much to eat. However there was one huge cabinet that stuck out from all the rest, and when she opened it she was hit with a blast of cold air. Eyes widened in awe at the rows and rows of delicacies that greeted her. Was this some kind of portal to a magical frozen food land? It seemed as if the technology in this world was much more advanced than her own. Which was great! If she could figure out how it all worked, perhaps she could bring its secrets back to Roserasia. It would surely be a happy ending...having the other Evalyn successfully take care of the Ball for her, and then being able to return home a hero without anyone being the wiser!

She was about to try climbing inside to see where the cold cabinet would lead when Kip, brows furrowed, intervened.

"Princess, what are you doing!?"

"I wanted to see where the cold comes from."

"Cold? Hmm...you're right, this is pretty interes-- Wait, we don't have time for this!" It he weren't so high-strung over the infinite rules he had broken in the course of an hour, he might have more easily allowed himself to get distracted. But before he could launch into a full lecture, the other Eva returned to the room. He nodded solemnly along to her words. "It's sound advice."

The princess agreed. "I wonder what the magical transformations here look like!"

And with that she was gone, running back towards where they had come from. She threw open the closet door wide but...

"Uhm...I don't see any clothes in here. Just a...portal home..."

A sparkling vortex of harlequin colors whirled before her. If she peered hard enough into the swarms of purple and blue, she could almost make out images of Waltz Castle...her bedroom at the Château...the inner courtyard. It felt like staring into a dream, each image shifting before the mind could fully comprehend its form.

The flickering shades brought Evalyn back to reality. What she was doing was, quite frankly, insane. Even she could recognize it. And while she was relieved to no longer have to worry about causing international relationships to collapse atop her head, or deal with whatever dark stranger had accosted her before, she wanted to take her doppelgänger's words to heart. It wouldn't be any trouble managing her affairs...right? It would be like an adventure, getting to see what common people lived like in another world! And of course she had been careful to pack some roseras from her emergency supply (usually used to order late-night snacks from town without anyone getting suspicious), and a few other trinkets should they prove handy. She had to believe that she was ready. She should take her own advice, and just focus on having fun! Merry thoughts flew by, and she couldn't help but think of how this next month was going to be a dream- waking up whenever she wanted, picking flowers for a living, spending all her time with friends… It was all just so exciting...even if it was a little insane, and scary. They were both trusting their lives to a complete stranger, after all! Though Kip would be with the other Evalyn, and so surely things couldn't get any worse than if she were in charge of herself...right?

An outside perspective...
Truly it may do Roserasia some good.

"Hey other Evalyn! Did you hear me?"

Perhaps she hadn't. No matter. The princess left the closet to begin sweeping about the room playing with the various objects Kip had tried to keep her from before. With all this fancy technology at least one had to trigger a transformation. Everything was made out of a strange material that made a hollow noise when she plinked it. Though even after she attempted reciting the most popular chants and waving her arms around in various poses, none of them seemed to work. One long, rectangular object did fire off a barrage of tiny strips of metal, however, sprinkling the little bent pieces all over the floor.

"Whoa...I wonder what these are for..."

As she bent down to closer examine them Kip finally caught up to his wayward ward, an exasperated paw to his face.

"Princess, are you sure you'll be alright...?"

"I'll be fine!" She beamed, showing him a palm full of the odd metals.

With another long sigh Kip found a nearby set of drawers and pulled out what appeared to be a shirt and a pair of pants. The clothes were extremely plain, but also very soft. For a moment Evalyn just stood rubbing the cloth against her cheek. If only all her dresses were made out of such comfy materials!

And thus she was unceremoniously sprawled when the other girl returned.

"Alright, I took care of things on my end."

"Great!" The princess sprang up, showering the little metals and the clothes back to the ground, "Now you can tell me aaaaall about your life! Like your work! Is it nice? Who are your friends? Do you hand out flowers together? That would be so lovely, you know, sometimes I’ve fantasized about how nice it must be to--"

"Princess! There’s not much time! You- I- We have the Opening Banquet to prepare for! You can come back and chat when she has a free moment later!” Would Her Highness even be able to handle working all day? Waking up early to get to her job on time? Balancing all these foreign responsibilities… He remembered almost getting hit by a great metal beast upon his last visit. They seemed to stay upon special black strips of road, but what if one strayed off and ate the princess?! This is going to be the end of my job… For the tutor to the princess of Euthalia to abandon her like this... Forgive me, my Stallon forefathers! Our name may be tarnished beyond repair..."

"Alright, fine. In the meantime I'll just have to explore things for myself." Suddenly remembering that she was supposed to change, she proudly struck a triumphant pose, hand in a fist high above her head. "Traaaaaaaaaansfooooooorm!" She called with all the purpose of a war cry, eyes shining with anticipation of the elegant shower of mint-colored petals that would make a chemise of her current gown.

But...nothing happened.

"Huh? What's going on?"

She shouted 'Transform!' over and over, but to no avail. Bringing her wrist to her face, she peered at the silver bracelet adorning it with flowery pastel details.

"Could it be...the magic in this world is too weak for it to work...?"

Kip gave his wand a few experimental shakes, successfully managing to levitate the little metal pieces back onto the desk next to the odd object they had come from.

"Hmm... Interesting. This is certainly a surprise." He had experienced a fair bit of resistance, feeling much more weathered than such an easy exertion should bring. Though that was actually something of a relief. If the humans of this world didn't have access to magic at all, it might prove to be an overall safer place. Though did that mean there were no arie or Witches? He tried hard to recall if he had seen one on his previous visit, but nothing came to mind.

"Well, it's no matter." Deciding to assist the princess one last time, a flick of the wand finally brought about the desired effect on the dress, causing layer after layer of creamy chiffon to evaporate into a display of petals that swirled back into the bracelet.

"Thanks Kip!" the princess cheered, as if this was the most normal thing in the world. Though she was a bit disappointed that she wouldn't be able to transform on her own, such thoughts were soon wiped away as she ducked into what appeared to be a very tiny bathing room to put on the other Evalyn's clothes. Admiring herself in the mirror, she really did look exactly like her now. To experiment, she swept her hair up in the warlord style, fist holding it in place as she turned profile to profile in the glass. She could easily see why Eva utilized this style of dress. Somehow she felt free and powerful, like she could do anything.

"So, what do you think?"

She returned, flashing her teeth at her tutor and pair. They were truly each other's reflection now.

"You look..." Kip's face scrunched up into an awkward smile as he resisted the urge to say 'like a very pretty peasant boy,' thinking that she might not take it well. The princess was practically overflowing with the kind of confidence he hadn't seen light up the sallow countenance for weeks. On the one hand he wished she didn't feel the need to shirk her duties...on the other...perhaps this venture would give her a newfound sense of self. Or get her killed. "...as if you were born here."

The princess's beam grew as she turned to Evalyn, unfastening the bracelet to drop it into her palm.

"It seems like I won't be needing this anytime soon. I'm sure it will look amazing on you, along with all my other dresses. You'd better take good care of her, Kip! Remember, she's basically me now, so I expect you to be just as cautious with her...and strict." She winked at the girl, thinking about how she certainly wouldn't miss her tutor's constant nagging. Though...she may miss him. Was there a version of Kip in this world as well?

With everything seeming to finally be said and done, the little arie reluctantly bid adieu to his liege and steeled himself for the oncoming storm.

"And you take care of yourself, Princess, I’ll be back to check on you in a few days. Or maybe tomorrow. Or maybe I’ll settle her in and then come right back to check on you. Maybe she can go in the portal by herself so I can make sure you get to-"

“Oh please,” Evalyn interrupted, as unconcerned as one could be when they are riding the high of being resolved of their most dreaded duties, “It can’t be that hard, just go with her! I’ll be fine, really! Oh, but one last thing before you go-” She directed her attention to Evalyn once again. For the first time since setting foot in this new world a severe expression shadowed her face. Now that everything seemed to be worked out, she couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. She meant it when she said that she hoped Kip would look after the other girl. After all...

"If you meet a man with scars on his arm, be careful. There's something...off about him......"

Kip raised a brow, just now remembering that his ward had never gotten around to detailing whatever it was that had spooked her in the garden. The garden in the château they were now returning to...

But the princess didn't want to send the other Evalyn off too worried. She truly did want her to have fun, so that she would make the best possible presentation for her at the Ball. The light returned to her face as another thought consumed it. With everything that had happened, and all so quickly, she had scarcely gotten a chance to think about it. After all, her replacement wouldn't be dancing alone.

A faint blush came to her cheeks and she suddenly found herself unable to meet Eva's gaze, staring off to the side at thoughts far away. There was a price to be paid for her negligence. Or, one might say, a sacrifice necessary to ensure Euthalia's success...

"If I were you- and, in this case, I kind of am- I'd focus on spending my time with-- Oh!" Her speculations were interrupted as she suddenly grasped the girl's arms. "There's an emerald necklace hanging on the wall in my room. Whatever you do, please don't touch it! It's...very important to me." Her eyes burned with a kind of jealous suspicion, though she was scarcely aware of such. "Other than that, what's mine is yours. And remember, just enjoy yourself."

Kip floated up to the girls, placing a gentle paw on his new responsibility's shoulder. He sympathized with the princess, but, despite his many, many worries, resigned himself to trying to convince himself that it was for the greater good.

And it was time to go.

"Well then Eva- ah, princess, I guess I should get used to saying- we should be on our way. It could be very bad for all of us if someone should discover the portal unattended, so, as for the rest, I shall do my best to explain it after we arrive." He floated towards the swirling vortex, gesturing for the girl to follow. No turning back now.


And this is when the worry returned in its full.
This girl really had no idea how to deal with the commodities of normal life, did she? What's more, her relentless attempt to become a magical girl. All puns intended.
She was about to pitch in that there was no magic here, it didn't exist, when the flying hamster that she still wasn't over yet concluded the same. More or less.

'Kip' did manage some magic and next thing she knew she was looking at an undressed form of herself. Oh god. Eva quickly covered her eyes. Even though she was technically her in a weird twist of fate, that didn't mean she wanted to look at a stranger's near nude form.

As freaky as it all already was and had been, Eva was taken aback at how exactly the same that girl looked when she wore normal clothes. Her clothes. This really was like the Prince and the Pauper story. Or Princess and the Pauper to be more accurate. Which made her a pauper. Great. And now she was going to be dressed with magical jewelry like the one in the palm of her hand.

Eva couldn't help but grow curious at the parting words of the princess. A guy with scars on his arm and no touching an emerald necklace. That was confusing. But now it was time to go.
"Right, so before I go, on the kitchen table you'll find some instructions, a map, keys to the apartment and flower shop, and my credit card and signature." That last part was a really dangerous idea, but she had no choice. "Use that card to buy food and things you need, but don't go overboard, I don't have that much to spare. Also left some money there as well, and that should be all you need to survive."

She walked over to the swirling portal and where Kip was. "Guess we're off then." She said to no one in particular. Time to go on an adventure.

"Oh! Almost forgot." Eva walked back and pulled her phone out of her pocket. "My mom will call this evening, as she does every week, so you'll get 4 calls of her this month. When it rings just press your finger on the green button that appears and slide it to the right. Say everything is fine, if she asks how your week was just... say it was calm, nothing much interesting happened, and whatever you do, don't go explaining every little thing you encountered to her, she'll think I've gone insane. And I call them Mom and Dad. And whatever you do, don't do anything else with this thing except hooking it up to the charger over there every night." Gosh it was so weird to leave her phone to a total stranger. But she doubted she'd have any cellphone reception in... what was that kingdom called again?

With that settled she went back to Kip, "Alright. Ready, Kip." She let the aria know, unaware she was mirroring what he had asked Evalyn just before they leapt through the portal.
She half wanted the aria to go first, but no. If she was going to do this, she better do it right. So after one final deep breath for courage she stepped through the swirling magic in her closet.


Evalyn nodded eagerly to her replacement's last-minute words of advice, ready for the pair to be on their way so that she could get to experiencing her new life. Almost all of what the other girl said flew straight over her head, though she pretended as if it wasn't an issue. Something about keys and a map...was her doppelgänger in the midst of some kind of buried treasure hunt? She was also amazed to find that they had a magical card in this world that allowed the owner access to anything they might need. But wait...Kip had just concluded that they didn't have magic in this world. So then was it more of their advanced technology? Humans really had come far in this world! She couldn't wait to try it all out for herself.

If the not-so-magical food cards went a bit over her head, the speech about the previously-mentioned "calls" was miles into the atmosphere. The princess tried to look convincing as she assured the other that all would be alright. Though inwardly she was swarming with questions. Rings? Buttons? Charger?

Well, somehow she'd figure it out.

As one of the apple-haired maidens stepped through the closet, Kip turned to face his liege one last time. He had never before had to leave her in such a way. Even when the royal family would visit neighboring countries, he had always been by her side. If it weren't for the necessity of his action, he might have found it impossible. But perhaps these weeks would be good for him, as well. After all...the princess was no longer a child...despite how she might sometimes act. No matter how this potentially disastrous plan played out, that much was certain. Soon enough she would be wed, and in charge of the most powerful nation in their world. He had spent 19 years doing his best to raise her, but perhaps he hadn't done enough to let her grow.

"Be careful, Evalyn. I mean it. You might be off the hook for now, but you will have to return to your duties soon enough."

The princess tried to look solemn as she took in her tutor's words, but she couldn't deny the excitement boiling over her heart. Sure, her life here may just be temporary, but she was going to make the most of it!

With one last sigh of reluctance, Kip turned away from his ward to follow her replacement into the vortex. For a few more minutes the portal continued its fearsome swirl, spiraling into a smaller and smaller cone until, at last, the phantasm of colors was completely drained away, leaving nothing but a row of simple dresses and blouses behind it.

And for the first time in her life, the once princess Evalyn was completely on her own.

Collaboration with Pretzel Heart , using some text written by wizard nibblers ​

 

[hosaki]

Tristan Thaddeus Sinclair
Prince of Greedo

For all of Dahlia’s bravado back at the chateau, Tristan still felt his heart jolt every time the crowd surged against the line of guards holding them back. Over-excitement was the last thing his sister needed, and could the crowd or the orchestra be any louder? But of course Dahlia had to be present at the procession. She was the princess of Greedo -- what would the people say otherwise? That was always the question in the end, wasn’t it. Still more distressingly, he couldn’t shake the fear that an assassin lurked amidst the sea of faces, waiting for a chance to make a second attempt on his sister’s life. It was silly paranoia, he knew. Yet why were the guards exchanging those strange glances? Why was the procession being delayed? ...What if? A threat of a frown loomed in the wrinkle of his brow, but when he turned to see Dahlia adorned in her new emerald green gown, her face radiant, he oppressed his fears to put on a brave smile of his own. Today was a rare day of festivities for her; it wouldn’t do for him to ruin the mood.

“Shall we?”

As opening strains of the orchestra’s first number gained in momentum, Tristan gestured down the path with a tilt of his head, the smile finally reaching his eyes as he offered her his arm.

---​

Tristan felt immense gratitude upon reaching the Dining Hall. He couldn’t be sure if the short walk was enough to leave Dahlia feeling worn (if it was, he was unable to tell), but more rest could only be a boon and not an ill. It was a shame though, that the social politics of this event had already reared its ugly head so quickly. Faced with the presence of six other important figures seated around at the same table, as well as the overwhelming aura of King Regis himself, Tristan felt an intense desire to hide -- somewhere, anywhere. The missing people, too, added an additional source of mental pressure. Without Princess Evalyn’s attendance, who was he to woo? The welcome speech now finished and the dainty clatter of silverware signaling the start of the meal, Tristan sat still as a statue but to pick up cutlery for the serving of the first course, every movement slow and mechanical. His expression remained one of stony and regal composure, but anybody who knew him well enough could see that he was actually experiencing a rather severe case of the nerves.

No, no. This wouldn’t do. He looked to Dahlia and leaned in, in a simultaneous attempt to lighten his own mood and act an approachable brother for once.

“Ahem… so…-hem... what do you think?”

He indicated the other young eligible bachelors around the table with a few surreptitious glances. From the faint blush tinging the tips of his ears, it was clear that this turn of conversation was quite foreign to him. Still, he soldiered on with an earnest gaze and as little a clearing of the throat as he could manage. After all, he wanted to know Dahlia’s mind without any of the political clutter.

Syrenrei

 

[Pretzel Heart]

❂ Klaus Mathis Diefenbach ❂
Taking care of business​

Though he thirsted to dive into the beautiful pool-like basin and wash away the guilty memory of forest villages and river baths, he felt that it was only proper to offer Rosa first right. She was in greater need of it, after all.

Still, even after it was his time to reunite with the familiar soaps and lathers, Klaus couldn't help the tinge of regret that came with the necessary scrubbing away of the last remaining evidence of the past few days and nights. Nevertheless he was a creature of habit, and while he suspected he would forever treasure recollections of their journey to Saint Lyon, it was something of a comfort and relief to have a reliable place to lay his head. And as he emerged from the bath in the sweet-smelling haze of cleanliness he felt a bit more like himself. Or at least the version of himself that was Senator and a Representative to his people. The version with many an important task ahead.

"Are you finished getting ready? It's about time to leave."

In just a few minutes Klaus's own transformation had been complete, looking as immaculate as his fans' crooning seemed to always foretell...and as most normal people cannot pull off such a feat, he made himself available to help his sister in whichever way he could. The flowers she preferred to weave into the long black hair that was the antithesis of her family's took some time to place, after all.

Thankfully they did not have to worry much about getting dressed.

His mother had precisely laid out which magical accessory was to be worn for which event, and Brynocki had carefully packed them in such a way that their purpose was easily discerned. Freya, being the mastermind that she was, had prepared for any situation, even selecting alternatives based on the possibilities of certain events. Sucg as what to wear to the second Dance Competition if they lost the first, or which dressing to use the first time he partnered with Princess Evalyn. The unspoken audacity being that he must.

At the thought Klaus's expression couldn't help but crinkle into a shape somewhere between a smile and a grimace. Today he would finally be seeing her again, after so long...

He could only pray that the cloud of his parents' expectations didn't drift over their reunion like some heavy fog.

Trying to push any such foreboding distractions to the back of his mind, the senator selected the appropriate trinket - a golden ring inlaid with emerald - and went through the appropriate motions until the typical sparkles had settled and a handsome suit was formed.

"Well, let's go meet the others, then."

Owing to their later arrival and the preparations they had to undergo beforehand, the Diefenbach siblings were among the last to line up for the parade. Their place was near the front, bringing Klaus through a line of faces both familiar and strange. In his excitement he couldn't help but smile and wave at each Representative as he passed, having to resist a strong urge to get wrapped up in conversation. There would be time for catch-up soon enough.

Though one stood out among the rest.

Prince Kiefer, among those with whom Klaus was most looking forward to reuniting, scarcely acknowledged his chipper greeting, simply staring back at him through hollow eyes that spoke of some deep emotion that even the perceptive Ramerian could not place. Eyes that seemed to stay with him even long after he had passed.

But there was little time to dwell on such perplexities. Finally at the front of the line, Klaus thought that he might take the opportunity to settle the matter of Rosalein's presence with King Regis, and properly introduce himself as was only polite when staying as someone's guest. But by the time they had made it to their position and he had registered that Evalyn was not with her father, the procession had already begun.

He had plenty of experience with these things, but not so for the one beside him. He wondered if Rosa would be okay...she was one to prefer her art to be the thing on display, after all, not her person. Hoping to offer her some sort of encouragement he reached down to squeeze her hand as the peel of the orchestra's first notes matched the hum of excitement already trilling through his body, causing a shiver to run through him at the sound. Perhaps some of that exuberance could pass like a current between their palms...

The crowd went wild as the king appeared, signaling the official start of the country's most important social season. But if the reverent roar that followed in his wake was like the purr of a lion, the audience's pitch rose several keys into a kitten's shriek as Klaus and his sister appeared. Even in Euthalia, the man found himself with in no shortage of female fans.

He did his best to proudly return their affections, as it was the least he could do to show his gratitude at their support. Face flushed by the thrill of the moment he turned to his sister.

"Wow...I really didn't expect to see so much fanfare for us in Euthalia. Maybe I really can do Rameria proud this year."

The welcome for the president's daughter was decidedly more mixed. Whispers tremored about "that girl walking with Klaus." After all, if Rosalein Diefenbach was known to strangers, most of the time it wasn't for her face, and the siblings didn't exactly look much alike.

But in what felt like all too short a moment it was over, stranding Klaus at the doorway to the Banquet Hall. Though through the haze of his heightened spirits the room lay even grander than in his memory, decorated with the kinds of classical extravagances rarely experienced in Tennenbaum anymore. The shine of flame on glass created a display more beautiful than even the Modraniht Masquerade. It was as if he had stepped through a portal into a another time.

But there was none of the present to spare gandering, not with plenty of business yet to attend to. Making the head of the table his goal, Klaus was ultimately stopped by a strange announcement and even stranger sight. A great hulking man - still wearing the full of his armor - was sitting on the floor in the middle of the table. Evidence of splintered wood around him and the events made themselves clear.

Forgetting himself, the senator immediately went to the man, concern all over his face. "Do you need assistance, Sir ...Helbrecht, was it?" He attempted to gently lift the knight to his feet, which was no small task given the difference in their weight and size...so it was one he eventually had to give up on. "Ah, uhm, excuse me," he turned instead to the nearest available servant, a mouse-based aria whose white cheeks seemed to redden upon being addressed, "do you think you could find a chair more suitable to this gentleman...?"

Releasing something like a squeak, whether as an affirmation or from embarrassment, the mouse quickly scurried away.

"I doubt His Majesty would want one of his valued guests sitting on the floor all evening." Klaus added to the knight, trying to fill in what had become an awkward silence. He hoped he wasn't overstepping any boundaries...perhaps there was a reason for the man to be sitting thus. Trying to read any displeasure in the king Klaus quickly turned to him. The legendarily solemn monarch remained silently perched at his end of the table, staring off at...something...though it was a something that even with a turn of his head in the direction the senator could not discern.

"Why doesn't he sit there?"

A quiet, almost mournful little voice interrupted his thoughts, bringing him back from one problem into the matter at hand.

It was Prince Kiefer. Klaus had scarcely noticed him pass, so drawn-up into himself he seemed. Like a wilting flower he drooped in his seat, more akin to one at a funeral than a celebration. The probably cause being the object a limp hand was gesturing towards: an empty chair adjacent him, emblazoned with Lepumir's royal crest.

"It's not like anyone will be needing it..."

A pang of guilt went through Rameria's Representative as he reprimanded himself for earlier thinking his friend to be acting strange. Of course this year would be harder on him than anyone. Kiefer could scarcely be blamed for the lack of a festive mood...forced to sit beside what must only feel like the skeleton of his closest friend.

If it had been Luciano who had gone missing.........well, Klaus didn't think he'd even have the bravery to show up.

"I'm sure we can find a more suitable solution..."

But before anyone could say anything further, the mouse returned with several other burlier servants in tow, each working to support the thick leg of a wrought-iron chair.

Believing that one matter was settled brought Klaus's attention back to his most pressing task of the evening. Attempting to politely excuse himself from Sir Helbrecht, with the charm of third attempt he at last made his way towards the ever-somber king. Like a throne Regis Mutto's own magnificent seat rose above the rest, feeling like a father to the ten smaller (yet comparably ornate) settings surrounding him, one placed for each of the year's Representatives. While Klaus could scarcely remember, he had heard that of the renowned set there were pairs, made for each country and their invited's partner, should such a one be present. As was to be expected, only a single shown with Rameria's crest.

"Your Majesty," Klaus began with a deep bow before navigating straight into a heartfelt apology on his sister's behalf. She hadn't meant anything by it, but, in the spirit of Cendrillion, could her transgressions be overlooked and she allowed to participate?

After this somewhat long-winded speech during which the young man did his best to keep the poise that had won him his title, the king remained thoughtfully silent.

"So...you're the young Senator Diefenbach." For another long minute it was all Klaus would receive in way of an answer, the king as impenetrable as ever. What if Rosa's presence really did have him enraged? Could they be thrown from the Ball? His brain quickly tried to filter through years of history lessons to desperately grasp at any such precedent--

Then finally the silence was broken.

"Of course your sister may partake with us. If memory serves she is not much of a dancer, but whatever contribution she has to make will surely be welcome."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. We are eternally grateful. Isn't that wonderful, Rosa?"

Klaus managed to keep his composure despite the conflicting emotions of relief at his sister's acceptance and shock over the king's cavalier dismissal of her abilities delivered through the oddly perfunctory answer. But as the monarch's mind was obviously drifting back towards something far away, he decided it was best to be grateful and leave it at that.

"She may sit wherever she likes. I can have them bring out another chair."

"That would be most welcome, thank you,." And finally it was over.

Rosalein could then either sit by the still-absent Princess Evalyn or Luciano. Klaus, prescient in their preferences, decided to make the decision for her as he finally reunited with his best friend. The viscount had a brow raised, and he could almost hear the sarcasm that must be on the tip of his friend's lips. Well, you've been busy.

Well it was true. Though with business taken care of he - at last - found himself in a position to enjoy the rest of the evening unreserved. While he was a bit disappointed to see so many places remaining empty, he didn't let it reach his smile as he brightly greeted those that were not.

"Good evening, I'm Klaus Diefenbach, for those who don't know, and I'll be representing Rameria this year. And this is my younger sister, Rosalein...ah, you might have overheard, she's a bit of a stowaway. But it's a rare gift to have everyone together like this. I truly hope we can forge powerful bonds over the course of the Ball."

@theglassangel Unwavering Knight hosaki Syrenrei ParadoxalPaladin ​

Luciano Barbosa
Tradition is tiring​

Bathing would be a waste as little good it would do the thick circles that had made permanent home around his eyes. And otherwise, Luciano concluded, gazing at a satisfied reflection in the mirror, he looked just fine.

Besides, it was hardly as if this half-assed dinner party mattered. He had little interest in getting to know the other Representatives beyond what challenge they could bring him on the dance floor...and from what he had heard, that wasn't going to be very much. At least this year, blessedly, unless there was some kind of change thanks (or no thanks) to the centennial, he'd be sitting next to Klaus for the evening rather than sandwiched in-between the insufferable Priscilla, who had been his partner, and the even more insufferable Cynthia, who had spent the majority of the Banquet moping about her lack thereof...at least until Luciano had made his own feelings on the matter quite crystal.

Come to think of it, he had almost been thrown out for that...

Well, this year certainly couldn't go any worse.

He arrived at the starting place for the little parade they did apparently way too early, meaning he was standing around twiddling his thumbs for some time. Time that could have been better spent in Practice Hall. Time that was instead wasted mulling over how necessary it was to show up for this thing in the first place. He could only pray that Klaus's presence somehow made it bearable. In fact, he owed it to him, since it was technically his fault that he was even going at all (at least, that's what he convinced himself). But it was Klaus's strange ability to perform miracles. While Luciano could never relate to the level of excitement these pointless procedures brought out in his friend...he couldn't deny that sometimes it felt a bit nice to be swept up into his pace.

So, of course, the so-called senator took his sweet time showing up, doing nothing to lighten Luciano's already soured mood. Keeping on top of a ridiculously strict schedule was Klaus's strong point, so why did he have to be late now, of all times? Just his luck, really. In fact, double his luck, since Rosa had apparently decided to tag along.

Luciano side-eyed the girl as she and her brother sauntered up. He supposed what his father had said was true; she could be considered beautiful. But with that a wispy presence and such stiff awkwardness...how could anyone really call it beauty?

Still...unmoving......such things were entirely beneath him.

Why would they even consider someone who can't dance?

But before he could admonish Klaus for his tardiness the whole sorry affair finally began. It was a relatively short walk to Waltz Castle's golden gate and yet it seemed to stretch on for miles. It didn't help that wherever Klaus went there was a tide of screaming that made Luciano want to rip off his ears...though it was a wave that completely passed him by.

Still, his scowl did loosen slightly as he strained to hear what people were saying as he strode past, and thankfully it was not humiliating gossip about his failure the year before. Rather it was more appropriate praise centered around his renown in dance, and how he and Klaus were among the favorites to win.

If he was a betting man, he would have to say the same.

But such news wasn't enough to completely sweeten him, and he wasn't about to let Klaus off the hook. When the man finally finished running around doing everyone's dirty work Luciano gave him a pointed stare.

"I thought you actually liked these things."

"Huh?"

"You were late."

"Well...I wanted to make sure I looked alright. I am representing Rameria, after all."

The viscount merely shook his head in obvious disgust. Really, this whole "Senator" thing had been spiraling out of control the past few months. Sure, his 'pupil' had talent, but it was wasted on cancelled lessons funneling into the few times a year they could actually meet. Their (his) whole life had been leading up to one perfect moment...and it was stolen from him by damned Lepumir. That wouldn't be an issue this year. This year he had Klaus. This year there would be no excuse. This year he couldn't lose. And if Klaus really was his friend as much as he said he was...he wouldn't want him to, either.

Besides, he knew for a fact that Klaus could go into a bathroom and come out a second later looking perfect and smelling like a perfume shop. Probably with little birdies flying around to help him put on his clothes.

In other words, it was a lame excuse.

But he was still his friend. And Luciano knew from experience he couldn't lie. As in, he physically shut down whenever he tried to. Many an otherwise brilliant scheme had been foiled thanks to that particular vulnerability...

"Don't worry so much. You act like you don't have people falling at your feet everywhere you go. Making a good impression won't be an issue."

"I hope not...one misstep and it could be an international disaster......"

Such worries were on a distant wavelength that Luciano was far from understanding, let alone synching with. But he supposed he should be sympathetic. One misstep truly could be a disaster for Klaus...especially if he brought such nonsense to the competition floor. Though he thought it would more likely be a domestic disaster than an international one. It never failed to baffle him that the father who had once snapped at him to keep dancing even after his feet were boiling from blisters could somehow be less restricting than the father who had let his kid grow up the spoiled center of attention. At least Count Levente had more or less backed off over the years. With Luciano's performance in dance it was hard to criticize him, after all, even as he continued to shirk the duties that were below him. And he had long surpassed the abilities of the man who had watched him sobbing frustratedly on the floor with bloodied feet.

During the king's long-winded speech full of all the same-sounding pampering shit he had heard before, Luciano did his best not to doze off, choosing to focus instead on the empty chair where a year before Prince Lysander had sat. A mixture of feelings consumed him, creating an uneasy reaction of pity and annoyance. It was almost unfair, in a way, that he would win Cendrillion so easily this year with Lysander absent. And he doubted anyone else stood a chance against him. Greedo's Prince was a complete joke; his sister, who had decided to show up for some reason- perhaps to lessen the embarrassment of her brother -was passable but lacked a proper enough partner to truly let her shine. He hadn't ever seen Dorimun's Duke on the dance floor which should speak well enough for itself, and as for Sea and Marine they hadn't even bothered to show up. A pity, really, in the latter's case, as if there was anyone to surprise him this year it would likely be their mysterious princess. But it seemed as if all she had to offer for the moment was the shock of beating him to blowing off a worthless event.

Really, Cendrillion was going to be an insultingly simple win.

After all that was said and done and Klaus had apparently started a round of introductions, Luciano decided it was best to rip the bandaid off.

"Yeah yeah, and I'm Luciano Barbosa. You've probably heard of me." Hopefully for good reasons, and not because of the death threats.

Ignoring whatever anyone might have to say in response, he nudged Klaus and lowered his voice.

"Hey, don't forget about you know what." Amber eyes flicked over to where who could only be the dower Prince Kiefer of Nezzie was sulking.

For a brief second a flutter of confusion passed over Klaus's face before it melted into a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry. Of course I'm eager for the opportunity to get reacquainted with His Highness...though it's a bit difficult when he's sitting so far down..."

Instead of pushing the possibility of simply shouting, Luciano decided that it wasn't worth the effort, sighing as if the conversation unfolding around him had lost all interest and folding himself stiffly into his chair to await food and the promised dance. He had heard so many conflicting reports about the Euthalian princess's abilities that he couldn't deny being a little curious to judge them for himself.

And really, few things brought better entertainment than pointing out all the flaws in someone's terrible technique.

@theglassangel hosaki Syrenrei ParadoxalPaladin​

 

[hosaki]

Booker Elliot

Figured that Tristan wouldn't remember, what with all his friend had on his plate.

Today, too, Booker had his service smile on full blast -- so much so that the occasional passerby swore they felt a refreshing wind blow by upon meeting eyes with the man. It was with this potent if unassuming weapon that Booker navigated through the steadily increasing line of disgruntled invitees waiting to enter the hall. He was met with a sight he expected -- a ghost-white willow of a figure negotiating at the gate with the royal guards, who only shook their heads and shooed their hands. Now was this any way to treat a guest? Even in Euthalia it seemed that his tutoring experience was needed.

Booker sidled up to the group, interrupting them with a light laugh.

"Booker Elliot, servant to His Royal Highness Prince Tristan of Greedo and Her Royal Highness Princess Dahlia of Greedo, at your service." He embellished his entrance with a flourish and a bow, noting the silent exchange currently taking place between the guards. They were understandably suspicious of this interloper of questionable origin; hopefully, by the end of this conversation, those impressions would be dispelled.

"I couldn't but overhear- Chantie? Her Royal Highness has spoken often of you. I hear you're quite the storyteller." His smile took on a more genuine quality as he made eye contact with the aria, the suppressed excitement in his speech and manner seeking escape through the look of his eye and the curve of his lips. A collector of magical objects, sent right to his doorstep...!

The necessary pleasantries now disposed of, Booker was eager to get to business proper. No guard worth his salt would let in someone in without an invitation just because they claimed to be affiliated with the royal guests.

"Please permit this gentleman entry." He pressed his own invitation into the hands of one of the guards. The document did not refer to him by name (lowly palace tutor as he was), but the envelope was addressed to the palace of Greedo and clearly marked as such in gilded lettering.

The guards gave it a once over before nodding to each other and separating to allow entry. Rather than lamenting the loss of his own opportunity to attend, Booker internally rejoiced over his fortune: he had successfully garnered a favor from a person of interest and wriggled out of a stuffy obligation in one fell swoop. Wining and dining? There was an entire library to avail himself to back at the Chateau -- that was the true opportunity which could not be missed.

"I wish you all a pleasant evening. I'm afraid there are some duties I must attend to, so I will not be able to accompany you, regretfully."

He retreated with another graceful bow and melted back into the crowd from whence he came.

Peppermint Patty Rapror Augustine (if Carnation is still going to be a part of the scene?)

 

[Syrenrei]

Dahlia Lenore Sinclair
Princess of Greedo
​

There were not words to express Dahlia's excitement to actually be leaving the chateau. That was not to say she didn't appreciate the reasons she had to be isolated in bed and tended to. Truly she was grateful to Euthalia and the healers that tender to her when her life lay in the balance. Had she spent any longer in Greedo she may not have walked among the living for another few weeks or been permanently scarred. Her gratitude did not negate her desire to be among the world, however. For someone who thrived off experience and had a high need for socialization, her solitude had been as almost as harrowing as the physical ailments.

Between her enthusiasm and Tristan, who she knew needed her full support and strength, there was no time to mope around and curse her fate. Attendants had scurried around her trying to fix the dress that hung off her slightly oddly, stitching emergency invisible seams to draw in the waist slightly and dart the bust. By the time they had finished it looked like her diet had been more intentional than the result of violent illness. Dahlia joked lightly that at the end of the evening it was fitted so well they'd have to cut it off of her or she'd spend the rest of her life living it the gown comfortably.

With the exception of barely noticeable pallor (that could be erroneously mistaken for powder) and slightly thinned cheeks (that could be mistaken for genetics or shading of the skin) there was no real sign she had survived a poisoning. Dahlia was light on her feet, dancing and twirling around her room, humming, with the curls that had been pressed into her hair bouncing around on her shoulders. In the department of beauty she was nothing exceptional, especially not among nobles and royalty groomed to be exquisite, but she had an unmistakable brightness about her. Dahlia radiated joy. She had battled death, and won, and nothing could ever take that away from her. It gave her a renewed devotion to enjoy every minute as if it were last and, by the gods, she would do that starting with this parade.

"Ready when you are!" she exclaimed as she took Tristan's arm, giving him a quick peck on the check of encouragement. Mother was all about 'restraint' and refraining from outward signs of affection, but Dahlia had stopped being the 'perfect' princess some time ago. Rebelling against the mold was still received somewhat negatively, but she had been forging a path slowly but surely.

Had she not been literally attached to Tristan she would have surely given him a heart attack. Her gregarious nature, high amount of energy, and desperate need to be liked manifested in Dahlia's desire even in large crowds to try to talk to everyone. Several times she forgot about the guards and the concern for her safety, strafing slightly towards the crowds to talk to the cheering populace, before the hooked arm around hers reminded her that this was official procession. Dahlia's cheeks were bright pink from enjoyment and exertion by the end. Even with the roar of the crowd she had spent the entire time not waving but gesturing towards ladies to indicate they had beautiful dresses, or mouthing compliments to parents on their adorable children, or trying to emote to arie on how glad she was they came, or remarking on the handsome build of menfolk. There was a seemingly endless stream of admiration that the princess had for the commoners and it knew not boundaries of race, sex, age, wealth, or status. Princess Dahlia truly loved life. Undoubtedly not everyone heard her or interpreted correctly, but they understood her intentions at least and that was enough.

~*~
​

Dinner was almost better than the parade- almost. Dahlia was not the sort of person to deny herself food for any reason, but the combination of not being able to hold things down and medicine had meant she had a very limited diet until recently. Greedo's princess was going to make up for it by eating absolutely anything and everything that was served to her. If Tristan wasn't her most beloved brother, she would have even stolen food from his plate. Propriety be damned- it was no secret that she had been ill even if the source was unknown. Frankly she doubted the representatives of other countries didn't even care what had caused her to collapse. Mother would have said it was 'lurid gossip' of people 'beneath her station.' It wouldn't surprise Dahlia if other royal figures had the same belief.

It took almost all of Dahlia's willpower to smile prettily through King Regis's speech and wait patiently for her food. She could see all the courses in her mind and taste them in her mouth. Vegetables! Fruit! Bread! Sweets! As he spoke of politics and friendship and dancing she wondered who the chef overseeing the meal was, how long he had studied, how he preferred to prepare his potatoes, and what his pastry techniques might encompass. Greedo's master chef was a wonderful man but she knew he was not an expert on every methodology nor did he know every recipe.

Tristan's conspiratorial whisper snapped her out of her thoughts. For the first time she glanced around, noticing who was in attendance and who was missing. He looked somewhat anxious but there was no reason for him to be- he was vastly superior to every other man in the room. Dahlia was confidence that everyone else would soon see what a wonderful human being he was. How could such a great person be nervous?

"It seems a little silly to get attached to any of them," she replied casually with a light laugh. The topic was serious enough but she was trying to joke about it so she didn't break her brother's heart. "All of them are waiting to see who Princess Evalyn selects. I might as well wait too," she added. Clearly she understood that the 'best' would go to Euthalia's princess and only then would the Marine princess, Rosalien, and herself be given consideration by the suitors. Tristan probably wanted and hoped for the best for Dahlia, but in this one aspect of her life she was highly pragmatic. Love hadn't happened for her mother and it was unlikely to work for her.

"I was just thinking about going out tonight after dinner," she whispered back after a moment, a mischievous look in her eyes. Try as he might to deny her, in his heart of hearts her brother almost certainly knew that no castle could contain her for long. She could and would escape with determination alone as her fuel and ally. "But I know that might worry you. How about we go in disguises, meet some of the people, see some of the sights? It could be a lot more fun than this, I promise! Or I can go with a bodyguard if you're really concerned. Oh, look," she said, making a small wave with her appetizer fork towards Helbrecht. "I think that I've heard of this knight before? He'd be an excellent fit, I bet!"

Dahlia knew she had to move quickly so that Tristan didn't have time to object as he would want to do. Clearing her throat as politely as she could muster, she leaned over to where Helbrecht was getting situated on a sturdier, heavier chair. Her eyes glittered with all the exhilaration and infectious delight Dahlia was known for in Greedo. "Sir Helbrecht, what do you plan to do tonight after dinner?" she asked boldly.

hosaki Unwavering Knight