Ninon had the opportunity to change into a long, flowy yellow dress whose shade matched her back-length, summer blonde hair and a pair of white heels. Then, the festivities fully kicked off. Ninon was inundated with gifts from nobles and military elites alike. Silvan presented an ancient handwritten tome made in the old tongue prior to contact with the Terrans, on behalf of both himself and his mother who was unable to attend. She was not the greatest history enthusiast, but it was a gift she highly appreciated, coming from an aunt she hadn't seen in ages. Many other guests chose to give the princess rings, earrings, necklaces, and bracelets, made from and studded with Terran and Martian minerals and metals that manifested in a variety of dazzling colors. Although exceptionally rare and spectacular to look at, none of these minerals were as useful or as universally renowned as Utrium. The girl also received an array of dresses which differed in length and design. Some of her young acquaintances whose families had connections in the digital entertainment industry offered copies of unreleased communicator games.
“What are you going to name him, Ninon?” a girl asked, wrapping her arms around Ninon from behind.
Ninon was seated in a chair in a corner of the great hall where less adults loitered gossiping with one another. Her new animal companion was curled up in her lap, his eyes closed as he snoozed in peace.
“I haven’t thought of a name yet,” Ninon shrugged, providing something of an answer to her longtime friend Oanez Tveit. She was a childhood playmate of Ninon’s, the daughter of a late noble friend of Emperor Halsten’s. However they seldom had time together ever since Oanez was sent off to Heimat Academy. Ninon cherished every moment they spent together. “I was thinking, with all those communicator games you play in your free time, maybe there’s a character name that pops up in your head when you look at him?”
“Hmm?” Oanez pulled away from Ninon, staring at the ceiling in thought. “Well, he looks like he could be scary. Not yet, but someday he will be. So, if I had to pick a name, it would be… Daemu.”
“Daemu?” Ninon asked.
“Yeah, Daemu.” Oanez said. “The name of a boss I fought in a very hard level on this game I played recently… I forget what it’s called. I think it suits your new friend.”
“You hear that, friend?” Ninon looked down at her sleeping dragon. “That’s what I’ll call you from now on.”
Of course, the young beast could not hear the voice of its master.
“I suppose even dragon babies sleep a lot.” Oanez shrugged.
The conversation was interrupted by a buzzing sound approaching them.
“What are you two ladies hashing out?” the woman in the wheelchair that produced the sound asked, a genuine smile on her lips.
“G-General Karesti!” Oanez blurted out, and she threw up a hand in salute. “I’m honoured to be in your presence. W-What can I do for you?”
“Rest, private,” Rhona asked of the young girl gently, who was nervous and ecstatic to be in the presence of the military’s supreme commander. “This is a party. Relax for a bit. However, I expect you to be hard at work when the Academy is back in session.”
“We were discussing what his name is going to be,” Ninon interceded for her overwhelmed friend, petting the neck of the unmoving creature. “Oanez here decided he will be called Daemu.”
“An excellent choice,” Rhona nodded. “For now, I’d like you to hand Daemu off to the steward so he can sleep a bit more comfortably elsewhere. Both of you, head to the table in five minutes. It’s almost time for the feast to begin.”
The table was long, taking up much of the great hall’s length. Every single year for as long as Ninon could remember, it was filled with people wanting to have a good time, mingling with their peers, and eating delicious food. But this was year was a little different. There were less faces present at the table. Ninon was sat at one end of the table, and she could sense a deep, well-hidden gloom underneath everyone’s surfaces.
“Attention, everyone!” a voice rang out, belonging to Rhona at the other end of the table. “Dear respected guests, before we begin digging into our plates, let us have a word from this year’s orator.”
Everyone’s head whipped in the direction of the person seated at Ninon’s right.
“Th-Thank you, General Karesti!” Lady Oanez Tveit spoke with a voice that embodied both confidence and nervousness as she rose to her feet. “This will be my first time giving out a speech in front of so many people. I will admit, I am a tad tense. I’m speaking in front of so many people who’ve never even heard my voice before. But that… that’s okay. Because I know someone who has been listening to me with her full attention for as long as I can remember, and she is right here with me,”
Stolen novel; please report.
Oanez put a hand on Ninon’s shoulder, and both girls felt surges of solace rush through them.
“My dear, dear friend. Her Highness Princess Ninon Karesti!”
The room was seized by applause for a few moments, before Oanez was able to continue.
“Princess Ninon has always been a kind, caring, and level-headed young lady. I hardly know her as someone who stresses under pressure. I’ve never heard her complain even though she may have a hundred reasons to do so. She does all that while listening to me, putting her entire heart into ensuring that my concerns and worries are heard, and then she works right away to make sure I get what I need at that moment. My fellow guests, Princess Ninon is no longer the little girl many of you have known. I have seen what she is capable of, as a budding young woman. I… I would like to end this brief speech off with one message,”
She paused for a few moments to allow the tension to build up.
“Trust in Princess Ninon to serve you. On the night of the future Titanian Empress' fourteenth birthday, I implore all of you have full faith in her, and you will see the wonders she can make happen. Long live Princess Ninon! Long live the future Empress!”
“Long live the future Empress! Long live the blood of Bence!” the guests all chanted once, raising their glasses of wine, followed by an ovation that lasted for half a minute. The walls of the room seemed to vibrate as the congregants congratulated the young girl’s heartfelt tribute for her friend, and for that duration all eyes were on the young princess and her noble companion.
Except for one pair.
Alda Silje was just as jovial, if not much more, than the other attendants to the party. However, her gaze was fixed on the hands and face of the general as she clapped for Ninon and the girl whose speech was made in her honour.
Her hands were slower than everyone else, and her remaining eye was not involved in her smile. Something about her was ingenuine. Alda knew Rhona loved her niece, but that night, she understood that that love was finite.
The rest of the night was filled with dancing, singing, and drinking. Titanians had a fondness for partying even stronger than Terrans, but it tended to be a much more private affair with only close associates and family members involved. Ninon’s spirits had gone up quite a bit since the beginning of the night, fueled by the alcohol of the wine she drank, singing her heart out with traditional Titanian ballads for hours. She and Oanez each took turns waltzing with Silvan, and as it turned out, he was a decent dancer. Although never physically strong enough to become a soldier of the Titanian Empire, he still had great energy and enjoyed the night just as much as anyone else.
--
The faint sun had returned above the Titanian horizon as the guests departed and the staff of the palace began cleaning up. Alda escorted a heavily drunk Ninon upstairs to her chambers and helped her change out from her dress into a nightgown.
“You didn’t sheem like you had much fun, Awda.” Ninon slurred as she fell onto her mattress.
“Why do you think that, my princess?” Alda asked, yawning.
“You didn’t dwink. Can’t have fun at a pawty without dwinkin’, you know.” The girl grumbled in apparent disapproval.
“I can’t drink while I’m on the job, Princess Ninon. Didn’t you know?”
“Oh…” Ninon frowned. “Well, you know what? Sometimes, I wish you didn’t wowk hew. Because then, I could have so much mow fun with you.”
“That would be nice,” Alda smiled. “Perhaps one day, when you become empress, you can make it legal to drink on the job. Only at parties though.”
“But… I don’t want you to wowk fow me, Awda. I want you to wive yow wife and have fun.”
“You’re getting ahead of yourself, Princess Ninon,” a giggle escaped the maid’s lips. Although she had an honour to fulfill, Ninon's words did mean a lot to her. “Please, get some rest. I’ll have something for you to eat when you wake up. Good night.”
As the woman stepped through the sliding door of the princess’ chamber, Ninon decided to make one last inebriated statement.
“I wuv you, Awda. You and Oanez my best fwends.”
Alda looked back a final time.
“I love you too, my princess.”
--
Alda had returned to her own chambers, changing out of her uniform—elegant for a servant’s, but didn’t match the vibrance of a royal family member’s—into a nightgown. Her room was small, just large enough for a bed, wardrobe, and a dressing table. It was in the same arrangement as it had been when she was first employed by Emperor Halsten and Empress Consort Ilmatar 12 years earlier to care for their toddler. However she didn’t need too much space as most of her waking hours were spent alongside her charge. She lay down on her bed, but sleep didn’t come. Her mind was afflicted by the gravity of what she implied when she saw Rhona sitting at the feast as the guests applauded Oanez's oration.
She knows of Ninon’s lineage. It’s no surprise that she may not be very fond of her ascending the throne. But will she actually go out of her way to prevent that from happening? Oh, this all makes sense. It’s this war. Discussions of the Crown’s future will be rampant, with the Emperor remaining unresponsive, so it is no wonder she decided to change this year’s orator from the military's second-in-command to a little-known noble girl at the last minute. I guess she couldn’t have expected Oanez to praise Ninon to that extent. I know Rhona loves her very much, but will she go as far as hurting her so that the throne remains in Karesti hands? Argh, no, Alda. No, no. It isn’t your place to meddle in. Get some rest, now. You have a long day ahead.
She shut her eyes and lay still in the hope that sleep would come eventually. And then, there was a knock at her door. Groaning, she approached the door, where it slid open. Before her was an individual, seated in a wheelchair.
“Hello, Alda,” Rhona greeted with a friendly façade. “Do you have a minute?”