Rise of Winter, Week 4, Day 4
[Fire Step]
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[Fire Step]
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[Fire Step]
It took Freddie three full casts of [Fire Step] to get to the floor of the ballroom, and she could see the twitching of her grandfather’s lips —as well as the way her mother’s brow furrowed. Marasha would be disappointed, but, alas, it was already done.
With a gentle step down from the final platform the entirety of the fiery staircase dispersed.
Freddie looked over the crowd, it was a mix of ballgowns and suits. The children were more varied, some were in full suits, others in shorts, and the girls were all in different styles of dresses. Freddie was unique in comparison. She was a mix of ostentatious wealth and casual attire. She was in a duplicate of the shirt she wore to her Affirmation, with it’s Lystallan Alloy accents and all. Her pants were actually meant for her Affirmation, as she would have been going outside in them, but Freddie had forgotten which one she was supposed to wear when and decided it didn’t really matter anyway.
No one had mentioned it to her, so she decided it was fine.
After her moment’s pause, Freddie made her way around the crowd and up to the stage, taking her rightful place beside her grandfather. The place of the Heir of Nemo.
Her grandfather had not yet sat down, so he had to reach down to pat Freddie’s head.
“Good show, darling,” he whispered.
Then, he turned to the attendees, and slammed the base of his scepter on stage, “It is time. Citizens of Maeve, Residents of Nemo, be merry.”
At his command, several of the nobles laughed, and turned away from the stage, the merchants stood for another moment before forming groups.
“My star,” Aster said in the tight way Freddie knew meant she was displeased, “Care to tell me why you couldn’t use the stairs?”
“Well—” Freddie started, but was interrupted by her father.
“Oh, how Marasha will feel! She’ll be so disappointed!” Bridian said glumly.
Freddie shuffled, unsure of how to respond. She began gesturing lamely with her hands at the staircase and was just about to defend herself when they both broke out into smiles.
“Calm down, calm down, it’s quite all right,” Aster laughed.
“We’re just giving you a hard time, sweetie.” Bridian grinned and gripped Freddie’s hand. “Today is your day, and your Skills are yours to display as you please.”
“Even if Marasha would prefer you to use the stairs.” Aster chirped.
“Well,” Freddie said, unsure, “I did use stairs, just not wooden ones.”
Beside her, the Duke of Nemo laughed heartily, and several eyes turned to them.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. All it will require is rereading an etiquette book or two.”
Freddie looked stricken at her grandfather’s words, which just made him laugh even harder.
“You have fifteen minutes to sit and prepare yourself, Fred, then I’m making the rounds, and you’re going to the children’s room,” the Duke said through his laughter.
Freddie gagged lightly.
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As it turned out, the children’s room was simply a smaller ballroom directly off the main ballroom that was staffed with gentle-looking maids rather than stiff waiters. It also had a vastly larger amount of sweets. Freddie was content with just that. However, life is never so simple.
The Duke and her parents had abandoned her to go socialize with other adults, leaving Freddie surrounded by dozens of children ranging in ages from eight and freshly Awakened to twelve and wishing they were in the main ballroom.
Freddie was by far the youngest physically, but mentally she was dreading dealing with noble children mixed with merchants. The nobles were likely to be like the elite of elsewhere, ignorant and rude, and the children of merchants? They’d probably been told to make connections.
Thus, when a group of well-dressed children broke off from the main group to approach Freddie at the dessert table, Freddie did not flinch. Much.
Upon approaching, they curtsied and bowed, and it was a brunette girl who spoke for the group, “We greet the Heir of Nemo, Lady Fredericka.”
Freddie, who nodded her assent, forgot that they were not looking at her and allowed them to remain bowing for a beat too long.
“Stand,” Freddie said, clearing her throat and pretending she didn’t forget one of the key rules of etiquette. “Be relaxed and introduce yourselves.”
She sat back down the piece of cake she’d grabbed and focused on the children before her.
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“I am Marcella Herberfore,” the brunette said lightly, her composure unbroken despite the extended time she’d spent curtsying. She turned to glance over her shoulder at the other three children and introduced them as well, “This is Percival Jovan, Deirdra Wesley, and Nolan Hershel.”
Freddie knew their families. The Herbefores hold the title of Marquis, Jovan and Wesley are Counties, and the Hershels owned half the farmland surrounding Hernel.
“I am Fredericka Nemo,” Freddie said curtly and watched as the Herbefore girl’s smile twitched.
This is kind of fun, Freddie thought to herself, surprised.
“May I be the first to congratulate you on your Affirmation, my Lady,” Marcella powered onward, despite the slight. “Your Light was brilliant!”
“Agreed, my Lady,” came from the boy behind her, Percival. “It nearly blinded me and Father!”
“Same here, of course!” Deirdra said softly, almost forced out, “My own light was nothing in comparison.”
It was the Hershel boy that caught her attention, though. Freddie noticed Nolan was already half smiling before he spoke.
“My favorite part was when you unloaded on Father Horace.”
The other three children froze, staring wide-eyed at Nolan then whipped their heads to Freddie. Who blinked slowly.
Then she released a grin so wide, it was nearly feral, “Mine too.”
She decided then and there that she liked Nolan. Freddie eyed him with his slicked-back black hair and striking green eyes. It reminded her, briefly, of Argon and his bond, but they were not bright enough to truly be the same. He was in a dark blue suit with a white ruffled shirt and a deep green bowtie. It was cute.
“Nolan,” Freddie said slowly, “Would you like some dessert?”
Nolan, who was preening at the invitation, stepped forward with a smile.
“Of course, Lady Fredericka.” He nodded to the others and stepped away from them, a clear divide forming between Freddie and Marcella.
“Well.” Freddie turned away from the other three nobles, saying over her shoulder dismissively, “It was nice to meet you. May the Void protect your Houses.”
And then Freddie absconded with a plate of dessert in each hand and gestured with her chin for Nolan to follow suit. Dutifully, he did so with his own plate of desserts taken from the table.
That was the moment Freddie remembered she’d forgotten to renew [Bright as a Flickering Flame].
Crap, they probably hate me now. Freddie grumbled mentally. Marasha is gonna kill me.
“Nolan, keep up,” Freddie whispered, then picked up the pace as she sped through the ballroom.
Though it was smaller than the grand ballroom, that did not make it small. And there were easily a hundred children of various ages scattered about. Which was nothing compared to the four hundred adults in the main ballroom. Still, Freddie kept to the edge of the room, darting from window to window until she found what she was looking for.
A doorway with glass panes and black curtains demarking it as a balcony.
Freddie paused just long enough for a pink-faced Nolan to catch up and gestured with one of the dessert plates for him to open the door.
He did so without question, holding the door open just enough for Freddie and him to sneak through.
It was as the door closed behind them that Nolan released a loud sigh. Freddie didn’t even look at him. Instead, she found a corner of the covered balcony that had escaped the snow and plopped down, carefully maneuvering her two dessert plates and situating herself. That was when she glanced at the still-standing Nolan, who looked a bit taken aback.
He stood there, just looking at Freddie. She let it go on for a beat. Two. Three.
“What?” Freddie asked.
That seemed to shake Nolan out of his shock, and he looked briefly at the door behind him, then back to his plate. Finally, he lowered himself next to Freddie.
“Aren’t you cold, Lady Fredericka?”
Freddie looked at the falling snow outside the balcony, then down to her legs —stuck straight out, all unladylike but warm and covered. Then she looked to Nolan, who, now that she was really looking, seemed to be shivering. Then she snapped her fingers.
[Fire Conjuration+Fire Manipulation]
A small red flame formed just above her fingers, and she willed it to hover a few feet away. Then, she slowly increased the temperature until it was a white-red flame. The heat was enough that it seemed to override her color choice for the fire. Freddie watched as the snow began to melt on the railing.
“That should be better, yeah?” Freddie said, meeting Nolan’s green eyes with her own orange.
“Yeah—yeah,” Nolan stuttered, but Freddie was already focused back on her desserts.
Plucking a small cookie filled with cream, she took a testing bite. It was very dainty of her until, after another moment, she finished the cookie off.
Beside her, Nolan looked down at the tray he’d snagged and began eating some of the cookies.
“Your family has quite the reputation,” Freddie said idly, between one bite and the next, her eyes resting on the horizon.
“Mmm, depends on whose stories you hear.” Nolan agreed noncommittally.
“I only listen to my Governess’ stories,” Freddie laughed. “And she simultaneously loves your father but loathes your mother.”
“Aunt and Uncle,” Nolan said, correcting Freddie.
“Oh?” Freddie hummed, looking sideways at Nolan, “Not a member of the main Hershels, then?”
“I’m seventh in line, so unless my aunt, uncle, three cousins, and my father all get into a sudden and unexpected accident, I’ll never take up the mantle of the Hershel Heir. I may even take my marriage partner's last name.” Nolan didn’t sound particularly pleased by that notion, but it wasn’t an uncommon practice in Maeve.
The Callistan Empire? Never. Gracek? Maybe one in ten. But in Maeve? Typically whoever had the stronger claim to the heirship of their family got to keep their last name in marriage. Unless you’re a Nemo, Poplar, Umbra, or Dawn. Only the family of a Duke keeps their name indefinitely.
“Hmmm,” Freddie mused, “I can’t relate.”
Nolan did a double take before catching the smile that Freddie had formed. Then he gave her a grin of his own to match.
“Don’t count your eggs before they hatch,” Nolan huffed, then glanced at the flame hovering just out of reach. “Then again, no one in their right mind would pass over an uncontracted elementalist as an heir.”
Freddie scrunched her nose, “Caught red-handed.”
Nolan leaned back against the brick wall, and Freddie heard him grumble, “Some people have all the luck.”
“78, to be exact.” Freddie’s smile widened into a feral thing as Nolan choked on a bite of a cookie, looking wide-eyed at her. “But you can’t tell anyone I told you.”
“You can’t just tell people that, Lady Fredericka!” Nolan gaped, then wiped several crumbs off his face angrily, “And you don’t even know me!”
Freddie snapped her hand out, catching Nolan’s hand. A wild look was in her eyes, and her grip persisted even when Nolan tried to pull his hand away.
“Don’t worry about me, Nolan Hershel,” Freddie said, her tone clipped, “If you go around spreading my Luck, what do I care? I don’t. None of the children in that room, or their parents, would be able to hurt me.”
Freddie tightened her grip, and she could feel Nolan’s skin resist her force.
“But do not ever tell me what I can or cannot do.”
And then Freddie let go, standing gingerly as she did. The flame went out as Freddie opened the door and left Nolan out in the cold.