A blue girl zipped across castle halls with a grin on her face and arms full of assorted beach items. Junk to anyone else who cared to comment on her packing choices, but any who bothered were swiftly ignored.
It had taken several weeks of planning, and registering, and organizing—all things the princess wasn’t too fond of—to get the trip going and people on board. Mainly trying to get people on board. As expected, trying to work with people over virtual mail was not only difficult, but a trail of great magnitude. Between Hal’s tendency for one-word replies and Harlan’s formal language, the blue girl thought she was on the border of pulling her black hair from her head. It only made matters worse that Gwyn, though back on his feet and on doctor’s orders for occasional fresh air, still remained distant and unwilling to get enthusiastic about much.
Yet, everything came together, and she was confident that the trip would be a fun vacation. Perhaps a distraction as well.
I still don’t see the point in this trip, came a voice in her head. She rolled her eyes and zapped up a staircase rather than walking.
“You Needaimus are always so pessimistic, Sun; we’re going to have lots of fun!”
Fun seems like a long shot. Don’t you have more important things to be doing anyway? Mechanical as the voice was, it sounded annoyed.
“Not at all! Mother even approved this trip.”
That still strikes me as strange, like she just wanted you out of the way. You know, with Donn and Hermina in Hobith and you on this trip, there will be hardly any of the royalty family around?
“I don’t see why that matters, you’re just overthinking things again.”
I sure hope I am.
“You’re a silly Needaimus, you know?”
Her feet gleefully pattered on the castle floor until rounding a corner brought her into collision with a bulky green soldier.
“Fiona?” a voice came from behind the soldier, it was layered with shock and disappointment by the princesses estimate.
“Hello, Mother.”
Queen Whitlock pressed two fingers to her forehead and stared at the ground while the gruff soldier helped the princess to her feet. Another of the Queen’s escort’s bent down to pick up the dropped beach gear, but Fiona motioned him to stop and scooped it up herself.
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“Fiona. I am happy to see you preparing for your trip earlier than the last minute, but you must pay attention to others in the halls.”
“Yes, Mother.”
“Good, now have fun on your trip, we have important matters to attend to.”
Fiona quickly scanned the crowd of burly soldiers surrounding her well-dressed mother. The troops were not the usual castle guards, nor was her mother dressed in ‘around the castle’ royal garments.
“Are you going somewhere?”
Queen Whitlock raised a silver eyebrow, quite possibly in shock.
“Yes, dear. The vile woman who killed your father has woken at last, and we are headed to Nun for her trial.”
“Dia is awake! When’s the trial? I… I want to be there for it.”
If the queen’s eyebrow could raise any higher, it might have. She took a deep breath, then smiled and gently sat a hand on Fiona’s right shoulder.
“I am happy to see you taking interest, and I understand you had a hand in taking the bia– the villain down, but your work is done. This trial will interfere with your beach trip, and there is little more for you to do. Go and have fun.”
Fiona grumbled. “But Mother, with Donn and Hermina away, shouldn’t one of Father’s kids be there too!”
“And they will, I intend to take Asha.”
“Isn’t he a bit too young for all this political junk?”
“Coming from the girl who would have hidden from me if I asked her to come not that long ago.”
Fiona frowned and shuffled her feet on the floor. Queen Whitlock continued before her daughter could say anything. “Fiona, your current efforts to act as a proper member of the royal family are… admirable, if not a little clunky, but you have planned your trip and should go be away from everything for a little while. Take the time to clear your head and get the Nonpareil to clear his head too. Things won’t be suddenly burning down while you are away.”
The princess thought she might have heard a quiet, “if anything they’ll be more peaceful,” from the crowd, but she couldn’t be sure.
Fiona wasn’t sure what to say. Her mother was right that she would have run away and tucked herself away from all the drama only several weeks prior, and that urge still remained within her even though another part within said she ought to watch the trial of King Whitlock’s killer.
Perhaps taking her silence as approval of what was said, her mother patted her shoulder and continued down the hall, with a formal goodbye being the last thing said between them. Fiona was sure she had heard one of the soldiers whisper to the Queen how hard it was to raise a troublesome daughter, but given that she hadn’t heard a reply from her mother, she began to question if it had been imagined.
Once alone, Fiona shook her head and looked down at the beach stuff in her arms.
You could still postpone the trip. Sun suggested.
“No, Mother is right; I need to go somewhere peaceful and clear my head.
Hmm.
Fiona ignored the muttering of her Needaimus and teleported her way through the rest of the castle until she reached her room. Darting inside, she shoved the beach gear into one of several suitcases laid out on her frilly bed and smiled at her handiwork.
“All packed!”
Yes, all seven cases are full. Don’t expect me to carry any.
“Don’t be silly. What am I going to do, strap them on your back?” Fiona said with a laugh as her yellow Needaimus popped off her arm and curled up in a small space between the cases on her bed. She thought a nap seemed like a good idea, but she resisted and moved to her papers, where she handwrote notes for trip preparation. The princess couldn't help but wonder what Gwyn was doing and whether or not she could expect he was packing with the same amount of fervor. Or any fervor at that. She sighed. Hopefully the trip would be good after all.