Sophia didn’t expect her aunt to bring what seemed like the entire legion here.
For the past day, parked out in Capital’s airfield and held skybound above the great city, an Aerostatic Task Force of the Fourth Legion had descended upon the city like a flock of migrant predator birds. Massive warships casting lethal shadows across blocks of buildings, cannons stowed but observers vigilant; preparing for any possibilities of attack.
In the past decade, the Fourth Legion’s Aerostatics were becoming an all too common sight above the Reichlands. Massive steel warships once seen as aspects of sky-demons come to take their vengeance have become something more of a local quirk than anything else, rising from their airfields for exercises across expansive rolling hills and farmlands before returning to their concrete roosts for their nightly rests.
But in the heartlands of the Imperium? The Fourth Princess’ personal army here could only mean one thing.
It was all tradition now in this moment of parting; a ritual to formally send off a member of a royal family begun in the ancient Steel Era and still practiced to this day.
Sophia wondered if in the times before, this specific Ritual would’ve been a much more solemn activity: the last opportunity for a given member to say goodbye to their homelands and families for perhaps ever. That before boarding a horse drawn carriage or a seafaring sailing carrack, they would take one last look at the lands that birthed them, the blood that raised them, and the people who cherished them; never to return again.
But she supposed that in this day and age, when crossing the entire Ensolian Continent was quickly becoming less a monumental move and more of an upper middle class vacation activity, that this ritual was more so a maintenance of royal manners and less of emotional welfare.
And even more so, she wished that this damned tradition hadn’t forced her to dress up like this.
Wearing a formal royal dress and a silver tiara, it was as if she was dressed for an appearance at court. Though, according to the avoidant glances between her and her personal maid contingent, her makeup was unable to hide the massive bags under her eyes. A scowl alongside her face: a symptom of sleeping for an entire 25 minutes last night.
Well, was finishing the second novel of a smut trilogy worth it?
Sophia yawns lazily. Yeah, sure it was.
The internal council pauses to compose its response to her. Sure thing, except you look like an undead corpse. Oh and by the way; your husband is standing right next to you. Freshly minted, please make a good impression because unlike here; men can initiate divorces in Tianci…
Prince Zai, in his usual wear with a small golden crown (some distant ancestor of Sophia’s had stowed/stolen a Tianci crown in the royal archives now to dig up for this), keeps his glance glued forward with supernatural calmness; hands held in front of him like some bound prisoner being led by his chains. Thin wafts of dusty light filter through the slits on armored blast doors, dancing across his thin face and dashingly reflective skin. The two were currently alone (minus the guards) in this strange bunkered antechamber beneath Capital’s airfield, and so Sophia takes the opportunity to quickly steal a handful of glances at him.
Oh Goddess yeah, you really do have a type you simple woman. The ventral tegmental area of her brain concludes with a happy sigh. Thank you for the meal.
Sophia’s entire frontal lobe comes together with a frustrated grunt to ease the concern of the entire consciousness. Look, it’s just how this machine is wired. You can’t help it. Just enjoy it.
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Prince Zai quickly glances back at the probing inquisitor, Sophia’s cold emotionless gaze held at him long enough to attract the unwanted response. She quickly switches her line of sight back to her front, caught red handed.
Ok enough eating, focus up girl it's time.
Technically this was going to be a court appearance… with mom here and all.
As the roar of those massive steel doors resounds loud enough to shake their very bodies, the two begin to ascend up the smoothed concrete walkway and into the morning light.
They’re deposited right at the center of Capital Airfield, surrounded by a literal three miles of turfed grass and concrete landing pads. Their senses immediately assaulted from every direction; eyes adjusting to the extreme brilliance of risen suns, ears deafened by the startup of aerostatic engines, and noses filled with the scent of unburnt biofuel.
A path has been laid out for them, the massive red rug measuring over a hundred yards spread forth as a walkway from the arrival point of the couple to their vehicle of parting. Across both flanks stood the traditional guardians of royalty for each house: to the right was Prince Zai, his flank protected by dozens of imperacutta legionaries wielding ceremonial powerswords and storm rifles; while Sophia’s to the left was all but six Tianci Royal Guardsmen laid out with pathetically long distances between each one (literally the entire guard contingent brought by the Dominion was lined up here minus one).
Halfway through was the interception point; the two sovereigns of two now married nations standing as still as statues as they await the arrival of their progeny.
There was something to the Empress, something more to her than a sharp uniform and silver-blue linings. The way she carried herself, in her unfaltering gaze and her posture. There was warmth beneath that absolute, unfaltering order. An imperium at her beck and call, and with this newly minted alliance between nations she still sees something deeper; a union of blood between both her daughter and her new son-in-law unchanging in the great context of some vast political narrative.
Empress Annia hoped that Sophia wouldn’t resent her for this.
The children make the long walk in silence, any possibility of conversation drowned out by the sharp pitching of aerostatic engines completing their startup sequences across the airfield.
To their left, three hundred yards away from the ceremony, the two hundred foot long fleet tender Mercurial Wing takes to the skies, her bulbous shape from attached cargo pods casting vast shadows across them as she lazily joins her flocking sisters currently skybound.
They kneel, Sophia before her mother and Zai to his father. And slowly, with much care, each parent removes their child’s headpieces. Symbology taken from royalty of Tianci, the act of release: a family unit splitting not out of hatred, but for the sake of love.
A last goodbye.
And as Sophia kneels before her mother all she wants is to cry.
Was it for her father? For the unknown times that stood before her?
“Sophia…” Her mother almost whispers, the sound mostly lost on the blowing wind and howl of machinery. “Your father is alive and fine.”
She stands, keeping composure despite the confusion. “Mom, what do you…?”
The Empress grits her teeth as she mentions her husband’s only paramour: father nature himself. “He was out climbing the Thumb of Goddess in the middle of that damned typhoon.”
Sophia’s internal monologue groans. Typical of Father, doing something so absurd as climbing one of the 24 holy mountains on a whim and making us all worry.
… wait DAD’S STILL ALIVE!
She almost jumps and screams with joy, but barely keeps composure in this most sacred Ritual.
“He’s already coming home, just a few hours away from Capital as of now.”
Oh Goddess, Father might put a blade of error to himself now that he’s missed your coming of age, your wedding, and your ritual of parting.
Empress Annia reads the difficult expression on her daughter’s face, finalizing her goodbye with a close hug. “And I’m certain he’ll come and visit you two in Tianci. And if you can… come home and visit me too.”
It’s a promise, and Sophia makes it. “I will mom, I will.”
And the Empress says the words that she’s always said to her daughter, but yet here they seemed to almost hold so much more meaning than anytime before. “I love you my dearest Sophia.”
“Yeah, I love you too Mom.”