| (I.C.) Antarcha |
Ceremony of Intent
Date: November 27th, 2019 Time: 12:00 Location: Aesthwinter Royal Palace "Wyntere, you are to get up and get ready for the ceremony!" "No! I don't want to be the Empress of Antarcha!" The older woman, Empress Annette Aerinn, knocked on the bedroom door once again, holding some deep-blue and white garments in her left hand. Annette was agitated, for years Wyntere had been educated in politics and philosphy and leadership, just like Annette fulfilled when she was younger, just like her father had done, and her grandfather. Annette had feared that her eldest child would attempt to protest the crown when she noticed Wyntere studying geology between lessons. Wyntere had started verbally protesting since she was 16, despite having been informed that she had no choice in the matter. The Antarchan people have many liberties, except the royal family, who have few. "I already said, NO!" Wyntere shouted through the door once again. "You have no choice, I already told you! Many times!" "NO!" Annette sighed, grabbing the keys from her carrying-bag, and unlocked the door to her daughter's room. Wyntere, still in her nightgown despite the late hour of 12:00, was reading a book. The young woman merely rolled her eyes, putting the book down. "Why can't you change the law already?" Wyntere grumbles, snatching the robes from her mother's hand. "Just make it so we can just do what we want already." "It can't be done unless it's voted into law. Now hurry up. We need to be at the ballroom by 19:00 and there's a lot to do to get ready. Have you bathed?" "Do I have to?" Wyntere threw the robes onto her messy bed. "Yes, Wyntere. Go do that now, please. And quickly! "Fine." Time: 14:00 Location: Aesthwinter Private Airport "Ki Ha'Coron', and fisherman, we have arrived at Aesthwinter. Ceremony begins at 20:00, but the palace isn't too far from here. Please feel free to explore before you prepare." Finix and Sikupa disembarked from the plane that brought them there, shivering violently in the crisp polar air, wearing only their casual wear, most suited to FiHami's hot, humid temperatures. So close to the south pole, however, the temperatures were hardly above 0°C and their clothes were much too thin for that weather. "How many converted flamethrowers do we have?" Sikupa stuttered, bracing himself as a particularly cold wind gust slams the pair in bitter cold. A few Antarchan citizens pointed at the strange "tourists", and a few children even laughed at the strange sight. "About 10,000 flamethrowers converted into Dinerii." Finix stateed. "Let's find a shop, first and foremost. We will probably want to buy better formal attire for the evening. We can sleep in the plane if necessary." "What's wrong with the stuff we have now?" Sikupa asked, running alongside Finix as they ran off the airfield and past citizens and into the first open building they saw that wasn't the small airport. "It's not very formal by Antarchan standards. FiHami is already a global laughingstock as it is, we don't need to stand out more than we already seem to do." "And what happened to 'representing FiHami abroad'?" "I think we should represent ourselves, without embarrassing ourselves as much as we already do. We also need to remember that these people are offering to help us with the Antarchi. We need all the help that we can get." "I see." Sikupa sighed, allowing the relative warmth of the shop they entered to defrost. "Look, these clothes look much warmer than anything we own. Find some for yourself, I will find some for me. Meet back by the cashier in 2 hours." "OK, Fi." Sikupa nodded, running to the men's jackets as quickly as he could, knocking over a few Antarchan citizens along the way. Time: 16:00 Location: Aesthwinter Royal Palace Annette gently brushed her daughter's white hair, styling it just as she remembers that her mother had done when she was 18. Oh, how the years flew by... "Mother, did you ever have any dreams or aspirations? Did you ever want to do anything with your life at all?" "Well, I did want to be a doctor when I was little. But, I also understood that I had a duty to the Empire, to represent and encourage our citizens. I got to meet may interesting people, too." "Oh." Wyntere sighed, folding her hands together. "Remember, there will likely be foreign dignitaries present, so be on your best behavior. Ms. Mallory will do your makeup now." Annette said as she finished brushing the last strand of hair so that it would be ready for Ms. Mallory's magic. Time: 17:00 Location: Aesthwinter Docks "Well, we blew all the money we had to spend. Thanks, Fi." "I understand your concern, but I'm not the one who decided to buy several hundred Dinerii in useless tourist trinkets!" Finix snapped back, taking a seat by the frozen waters surrounding the Docks." "You blew several hundred just on the dress!" Sikupa shouted back, then sighed. "We should have been better prepared." "Let's just find the palace and change into the formal wear, and get this over with. I doubt the Antarchans are going to judge us too much for being... well, a mess." Finix stood up once again, picking up the various shopping bags she carried. She took a few steps, then dropped, only to be caught by Sikupa before she could hit the ground. "I think you need to stop worrying. You're going to stress yourself sick again." Sikupa nods reassuringly to a few people who approached them, who then walk away. "Let's go, then. Get ready for this ceremony." "Yeah." Finix said, standing up once again. "We have less than two hours." Date: November 27th, 2019 Time: 20:00 Location: Aesthwinter Royal Palace Ballroom Wyntere sighed from the canopy where she and her mother sat, watching the government officials trickle in one by one. Despite the anti-imperialist protests outside, the Ceremony was still set on being conducted. "Mother, I'm hungry." "Just smile and wave for now. You may eat once you're on the floor." Annette said, standing up and walking out the back door, to reappear a few seconds later on the stage. "Hello, esteemed guests, dignitaries, and the like. Welcome to Princess Wyntere Aerinn's Ceremony of Intent." Annette began, moving around gracefully, as if she were young once again. Her light blue ballgown swayed with each bright step she took. "I have been looking forward to this day, since my daughter was born. I know she is wise, and will take the spot of Empress with grace and humility." Annette set down her microphone, then made her way off the stage. A guard motioned for Wyntere to follow him, so that she did. The guard led her to the floor of the ballroom, then stood at the entrance dutifully. Wyntere walked around, looking for the food table, shyly picking things off the plates while Annette bounced around, chatting with everyone she could. Finix struggled to understand what all the Antarchan people were saying. The language they spoke seemed to be similar enough to Austral, but different enough to be incomprehensible. She shyly waved to people who bumped into her, not exchanging any words. The ballroom filled up more and more, and the number of times some Antarchan politician bumps into Finix goes up. "Wisten-tul en Trinke?" One of the servers tapped Finix' shoulder, and both she and Sikupa turn around, sharing a confused face with the man. "Oh, foreigners. Would you like a drink?" The server asked again. "Oh, yes please." Finix grabs two drinks off the tray that the server held, passing one to Sikupa. Just as she was about to take a sip of the fruit punch concoction, James Cornelius bumps into Finix, spilling the dark red drink all over the yellow and orange gradiant dress that she had bought earlier that day for 400 Dinerii. "Sorry, ki Ha'Coron'. I am so sorry!" "Do not apologize." Finix said, putting a hand at shoulder-height. "It was purely accidental." "Thank you." The minister nodded, walking away. Finix made her way closer to the walls, eyeing everyone in the room cautiously.
"Minister, may I have a word?" Empress Annette dragged the chief guard to the side swiftly, looking around briefly to ensure that they were alone.
"May I help, your highness?" The chief guard asked, keeping his voice down. "the Duke of Southwind and his son are here. I want you to step aside and make sure that Prince Jakobai leaves a favorable impression on Wytere before the announcement, after the ceremony." "As you command, Empress." The guard bowed and exited the side hallway, and Annette took a deep breath. It has been years since she and the Duke of Southwind had begun discussing the marriage of Princess Wyntere and Prince Jakobai since the two were 15, but Wyntere was very uninterested in becoming Empress one day, and who knows how she would react to an arranged marriage? "About the Nontarchi. We have some intelligence, some intercepted signals we have decoded off the waters near the Central Islands. They were talking about a camp they had, with some pirated virus." "And the location of this camp?" Finix asked, her voice almost a whisper among the roar of the room. The man she talked with seemed to fidget nervously, refusing to make eye contact with Finix. She only stepped a little closer, analyzing his face. "Um... We couldn't tell. Along some river, but the name wasn't deciphered." "Tikiri'i river, then." Finix nodded once, her face remaining as stone cold as it always was when dealing with other people, with a glimpse of heavily-supressed hatred in her eyes. "Our naval fleet will be approaching FiHamian waters before the end of tomorrow. We hope to recieve more information by then." The man then excused himself, and walked away.
Antarcha
Aesthwinter Royal Palace "What am I doing here..." Aurelianus Isaiah Suloinen Lucas Uskovainen Saffron Viridian, the Count Völmo was a minor, irrelevant player in the Valoran Court. He was a diplomat in the Foreign Ministry in charge of the Antarctic Region, a prestigious post in theory. However, since Valora held no tangible ties to any nation in this frozen chunk of earth other than the Ryccian territory of Irykia, being in charge of this region was essentially political exile. Indeed, he was here freezing both literally and politically because he was one of the few nationalists in the Valoran nobility, believing that Valora must rid itself of Ryccian influence and continue on the tradition of absolutism. In the Valoran House of Lords, there are 500 nobles represented. Out of these, only 40, mostly irrelevant nobles, were part of this nationalist faction. The Count Völmo was one of these persons, but he was getting older and disillusioned. He was craving power now, seeing his ideals as something impossible to achieve. More than once he had considered defecting to the conservatives in order to get out of this winter hellhole, but he still remained. The Count arrived as scheduled. He directed himself towards the Empress and bowed to pay his respects. "Greetings to Her Imperial Majesty. This humble foreigner only wishes peace, fortune and longevity to Her Imperial Majesty and her reign" After this greeting, he performed a brief kowtow and then he got back again. To the Antarchans, this glorifying greeting in third person and this kowtow may seem odd. But for Valoran nobles, this is normal procedure when greeting a monarch. When greeting the King of Valora, one must always do so in third person and then kowtow in order to show their humility and inferiority to the glory of the monarch, or so official tradition states. He was showing his respects officially, but his mind, he was just doing his job. He could not care less if this Empress lived or if her nation prospered. All he was doing was the job they had assigned to him: attend some gala about some princess from nowhere declaring an intent to something. How boring.
Deputy Regional Minister of the Planning and Development Agency(March 8-May 19, 2014)
Local Council Member(April 24-August 11) Court Justice of TSP(August 15-December 7)
"Good evening, esteemed dignitary. I hope your travels proved well?" Empress Annette dipped her head slightly, an acknowledgement of the Valoran noble's greeting. "I am Empress Annette, and Princess Wyntere is with us."
"Good evening, sir." Wyntere curtsied. I just want to get out of here. I don't want to talk to these stuffy weird foreigners... The princess thought to herself.
From just outside the Palace
The scene unfolding was purely a riot. Police and Imperial guards alike barricaded the streets around the Palace, while protestors angrily chanted away various rhymes. Many had made signs, with bold statements written clearly on them. "Note to the chief guard, we may need reinforcements." One of the police on duty shouted into his radio communicator. "A few reinforcements will be arriving shortly. No arrests, no attacks on the populace unless they get violent." The voice of the chief guard crackled back. "Hey, you must be princess Wyntere Aerinn of Aesthwinter." A tall man, with long, golden curls, and emerald-green eyes, stood in front of Wyntere. He wore a plain gray suit and green tie, and a sash over the top with various medallions earned for various heroic acts. "Hello." Wyntere curtsied, studying the tall man curiously. "And who might you be?" "I am Prince Jakobai Weiss of Southwind. I believe we haven't properly met." "Oh, Southwind. Is it weird seeing the nighttime here?" Wyntere asked, straightening out her dress and robes, sweeping a small strand of her almost-white hair aside. "Why yes, I suppose. I haven't ever left Southwind before." Jakobai chuckled. "Well, I am pleased to make your aquaintence. I hope to speak again soon." "Yes, same here." Wyntere gazed at the man as he walked away, admiring the way the low lighting in the ballroom made his hair look. "You've been awfully quiet." Sikupa sat down by Finix, who merely glared at everyone in the room. "I'm just thinking. Go on, have fun and socialize. You worry too much." Finix quietly stated. "Tell me." Sikupa attempted to follow the direction of Finix' glare. "Fine, but don't be obvious. Do you see the man with the pointed hat and monocle, white and pink suit?" Finix motioned in the general direction she was referring to. "He has been acting suspiciously. Overly so. I saw him step aside with a man wearing a chef's uniform, carrying a box. The chef then walked to the bathroom with the box. And the ringleader, he's been making weird hand signals all day. In normal conversation, it would look normal. But it's different." "I don't see anything weird. But the box thing sounds suspicious." Sikupa observed the man carefully. "Should we bring it up with the guards?" "... Plus, this would be the perfect opportunity to cause some damage... specifically... take out the royal family and take over the country for your own purposes, while everyone with any vague claim to positions of power are congregated in one place..." "Fi, you're thinking Antarchi. We are in Antarcha. No Antarchi here. You're overthinking." "Go, slip into the men's bathroom. Search it out, tell me what you find." Finix continually sat there, glaring at the man with the monocle.
Antarcha
Aesthwinter Royal Palace "Now that we have done away with formalities, I can finally speak in first person. I congratulate you, Your Majesty, on your daughter's Ceremony of Intent. I have high expectations for her reign in the future when she assumes the throne" "Say, how do you do? Your palace is quite lovely" "Lovely my arse...such a wasteland"
Deputy Regional Minister of the Planning and Development Agency(March 8-May 19, 2014)
Local Council Member(April 24-August 11) Court Justice of TSP(August 15-December 7)
"Why, thank you kindly. I hope to see relations between Valora and Antarcha truly prosper between now and the start of princess Wyntere's reign." Annette smiled. She began to turn around, motioning for the ambassador to follow. "If you would be kind to follow me, I would love to introduce you to our Minister of Foreign Affairs."
"Are the packages in place?" A tall man wearing a pointed hat and a monocle asked a guard. The guard nodded curtly, slipping a piece of paper into the hands of the first man.
Everything is in place. Bathroom, stage, closet, hallway, table. The man with the monacle grinned. Everything would be going as planned. "Fi, there's a bomb here..." Sikupa frantically motioned to a seemingly-innocuous box in the corner of the men's bathroom, which Sikupa had opened and revealed the inner contents. "And you're sure this is a bomb?" Finix cautiously glanced at the door, quickly making her way to Sikupa and the box. "It looks like a box." "Fi, that's exactly the kind of bombs the Antarchi planted when they..." Sikupa trailed off, gazing sorrowfully to Finix, but seemingly off in the distance as well. "Oh. That." Finix shrugged. In the back of her mind, various images of the late high priestess flashed in her mind, along with several unidentified Antarchi men and women, flashed through. It was that day, in her makeshift office, when the high priestess had shown her true colors and fought with Finix. She had been unarmed, while the high priestess had a quality dagger, as well as 2 hefty bodyguards, to wear her down enough to knock her out. She winced as she felt the initial stab wound the high priestess had left on her left shoulder as if she was being stabbed again, even through the thick coat she wore over her dress. Since that day, she swore to Ha'Finix that she would never be caught without weapons again. Suddenly, the door cracked open. The world seemed to move in slow motion. First, an unusually pale hand peered through the door. Then the rest of the white suit. Sikupa whipped his head around. His face was twisted with a sudden look of horror. Finix could only glare, though she felt her heart rate accelerate. The man slowly walked in, whistling. When he caught a glimpse of the pair of young FiHamians, he first gazed with surprise, then with twisted pleasure. The silence in the room seemed to last forever. "Two birds with one stone, huh." The man finally spoke, adjusting his monocle. "Would it be possible to coup both FiHami and Antarcha in one fell swoop?" Finix felt the same old anger well up from within. She discreetly moved the hand that was hidden by Sikupa's body to her pocket, where she managed to hide a dagger, even from Antarchan security. She felt for the handle, securing her fingers around its curved form. Simultaneously, she analyzed the room from the corner of her eyes, quickly plotting the best route for assassination. "Why so quiet?" The man mocked, staring at Sikupa with arrogance. "Are you even going to try anything?" The situation outside seemed to calm down, as people appeared to grow bored and decided that there was much more important things to do than sit outside protesting. "Chief Gallin, the situation on this front has placated." One officer reported into his communicator. "Stand down, then. We have received an anonymous security threat from inside, ensure that no one inside the event leaves the palace grounds from the outside. I have secured the ballroom and surrounding hallways already." The voice of Chief Gallin replied over the communicator. "Men, we have a new mission. Ensure no one leaves the palace grounds. Anonymous security threat." Wyntere sighed as she watched her mother interact tirelessly with people who had all attended today in order to see her swear to take the seat of Empress as soon as her mother were to die. In a way, she thought it was messed up. Of course, royal successors were important to have, but in this time, where the imperial family was nothing but a glorified drama show, there was no point. They were, ironically, the poorest and most oppressed family in Antarcha right down to when they were even allowed to eat. They made no money. The only reason they had food on their plate was because of taxpayers funding the ministry of imperial affairs, which oversaw their entire lives, gave them fine food, fine clothes, and posh luxury products to promote occasionally. But, that still didn't change the fact that they were still practically living off of welfare. But, of course, a normal family would be allowed to live wherever, study whatever, and walk around whenever. "Princess Wyntere, the time for your vows are soon." Her little sister, Princess Kylinna Aerinn, bounced up happily to where Wyntere stood. She smiled wide, letting her delicately cared for hair ringlets bounce around with her movements, as if she was moving that way solely so her white hair could bounce around. "Mama said to tell you to prepare." "OK, Kylinna." Wyntere merely sighed. "Why are you sad? Aren't you happy to be the one who gets to be Empress when Mama dies?" Kylinna seemed to lean closer, her dark green eyes merely inches away from Wyntere's own blue eyes. "No, I'm not. This isn't fun, you know." Wyntere responded. "You just don't know how to be a good Empress!" Kylinna chuckled, quickly bouncing away to the next person to "assault." Date: November 21st, 2019 Time: 03:00 Location: Unknown "I understand that you have no support for the imperial family." A tall man who wore a sharp-tipped hat and monocle crooned. "I believe I can help you with that." "What do you mean?" Another man, who sat in a chair, wrapped in rope like a mummy, glared at the man with the monocle. "Kidnapping isn't the best plan to help people, you know!" "I just need to ensure your full cooperation." The man with the monocle smiled. His smile was twisted horrifically, it seemed. "You have an imperial problem. So do I. You have the most convenient position, as chief guard." "You underestimate my oath!" "You will die either way... the only difference is if your wife and children also survive." "You dirty rat." The man with the monocle turned towards the ocean, leaning slightly on the rails of the boat. He seemed to contemplate something for a minute, then turned back to the chief guard. "We take care of the imperial issue and Antarcha will be a republic. I will personally make sure of it." "How?" "We plant bombs in strategic positions during some event where the whole imperial family gathers... Princess Wyntere has recently turned 18, has she not? She will be having a Ceremony of Intent relatively soon, no?" "The event isn't public yet, but yes." "Perfect." The man with the monocle raised his arm, and the small boat began turning around to land once again. He then cut the chief guard loose from his ropes, stretching his arm out politely. The chief hesitated at first, as if he was still trying to resist, but eventually succumbed to the hopelessness of his scenario, and shook the hand of the man with the monocle.
"So silent... I would detonate these bombs right now, but there's still one person missing from this party..." The man with the monocle locked the door to the bathroom, drawing out some rope from his coat. "I can't have you both escaping me, now."
In the next milisecond, all the man could do was scream silently as Finix lunged for the man. His monocle shattered against the ground. He felt his head make a crack against the floor, and his head exploded with pain. "Where bomb?!?" Finix growled through clenched teeth. She suddenly spoke as if she forgot proper Austral grammar. She held the blade of her knife against the man's throat, pressing in just a little bit. The man tried to struggle against the sudden assault, but found he was quickly growing weaker. "They have the command..." The man struggled to speak. "Command!" Finix pressed her dagger in deeper, enough to just barely poke the man's skin. "I'd... rather..." The man hisses, digging his own knife into Finix' side. As if by reflex, she allowed her dagger to slip, quickly ending the life of the man with the monocle. Sikupa only sat there across the floor, almost as pale as any Antarchan citizen. "Idiot." Finix motioned to the now-dead man. She took a few deep breaths, moving herself right next to Sikupa, dropping her dagger to the ground and throwing her arms around him. After a minute of hugging, Finix separated herself once again, looking around the bathroom. "We really should clean this bathroom." "Chief Gallin, we have received reports from some people that there was a commotion in the men's bathroom." "I'm going to investigate. Stand ground here, don't let anyone escape." Chief Gallin put his hand to where his pistol was, making his way to the men's bathroom. When he stepped inside, he looked in horror, as the bathroom looked like a murder scene. His heart sank lower as he saw the foreign dignitaries from FiHami trying to clean up the mess. The FiHamians only looked up at Gallin with a dazed look, the female even only seemingly half there. "Bombs." The female only managed to say. "Is... he...?" Gallin only managed to stammer. "He's dead." The male nodded. "Fi noticed a man acting suspiciously, we investigated. There's a bomb in the bathroom." "Bathroom, stage, closet, hallway, table." The female grabbed a slip of paper from the dead man's jacket. She then stood up, starimg at her dress in silent disbelief. "Ma'am, are you aware that there's a knife in your hip?" Gallin's mind is now flooding with fear and dismay, at himself and his situation. If word were to get out to the public, the anti-imperialists would only grow more violent. Relations with other foreign countries would be squandered. All because he accepted a deal with that strange man. "Not important. I recommend keeping this secret. Bad public press. And will only cause problems for FiHami-Antarcha relations." The female casually grabbed a ton of napkins, piling them around where the knife had stabbed her, and then yanked out the knife, much to Gallin's horror. Her face showed no visible sign of pain as she moved the napkins over the fresh wound, then re-zipped her coat. Gallin could only watch in shock, grateful that the knife didn't seem to have been very big, or impacted anything major. "We, on our end, will do our best to locate and disarm every bomb." "Thank you, human." The FiHamian female nodded. Gallin grabbed his communicator as he walked away from the bathroom, trying to supress tears of relief. "Gentlemen, threat level has diminished. Continue usual positions. Attendants are allowed in and out. Men's bathroom is closed until further knowledge." Gallin figured he would stop to buy his wife and 3 year old daughter a special treat on his way home, and maybe even plan that trip that his wife had always wanted to take for her birthday in March. "You think you'll be fine until the end of the ceremony?" Sikupa whispered into Finix' ear, who was only looking straight up to the stage. "It would not look good to leave." "I hope it ends soon, then, for your sake." Sikupa sighed, leaning back a little more in the chair he sat in. He caught a glimpse of Finix turning her head towards his direction, smiling and blinking once slowly, before turning back around to glare towards the stage once again. That same look... Briefly, his mind flashed to just last year, in that offshore compound. Finix had emerged to the deck to see the sunrise while he was fishing to stave off stress. The pair sat in an awkward silence for a long time. And then, suddenly, the girl who previously never smiled to anyone except the woman who had rescued her fron the orphanage, turned her head to smile at him. Without words, he immediately understood the "everything will be ok" smile. Of course, a few seconds after that particular moment, it devolved into Sikupa bragging about him being the smarter one between them both, then quickly getting thrown into the ocean as a response. "You have got to be kidding me." Wyntere groaned as her mother took her by the arm and quickly walked away to the stage entrance. "We're a bit behind schedule it's time for your vows now." Annette only said. "But Grannie Crystelle isn't here yet!" "The Duchess of Eris couldn't make it due to traffic on the main highway."
"Hello, esteemed attendants. It is now time for Princess Wyntere to take her vows." Annette announced over the microphone. Wyntere stepped forward, taking a deep breath.
Annette grabbed a large, heavily-worn leather-bound book from its ceremonial position, overseeing the ballroom. Spiritually, it represented everyone who has ever taken the oath to the seat of power granting wisdom to the next person to sign, according to the legends and the ancestral beliefs they held. Wyntere picked up the pen, an old quill from the feathers of the Snowy Owl, which was very common in the taigas around Aesthwinter. She dipped the quill in the ink, and quickly wrote her name in the book. Annette then closed the book, and Wyntere gently set her hand upon the old book. "I, Princess Wyntere Aerinn of Aesthwinter, daughter of the Empress Annette Aerinn of Aesthwinter, vow to uphold the ways of life and govern my people with wisdom and pride." Wyntere closed her eyes as she recited the words her mother made her practice over the past year. The room clapped politely. "And, with this ceremony, I also announce the engagement of Princess Wyntere Aerinn and Prince Jakobai Weiss, of Southwind. The wedding ceremony shall be February 20th. As planned by myself and the Duke of Southwind." Wyntere's heart dropped at the thought of suddenly being married off. She vaguely remembered the prince, as they met briefly on the floor. But, the thought of being married to him? The rest of the night was uneventful. Everyone chatted kindly to each other, and congratulated Wyntere on the ceremony and her engagement. Guests started leaving, going to their own homes. Wyntere was mostly left to her own thoughts, until she felt a sharp tap on her shoulder. "What, mom?" She turned around, annoyed, expecting to see her mother behind her. Instead, she found the dignitaries from FiHami behind her. "Oh, I apologize..." "Don't apologize for anything." One of the FiHamians began. "I just wished to leave you with words. You really don't want to take power, do you?" "Well..." Wyntere hesitated. "You may trust me. I didn't wish to lead my nation either. I still don't, but I was chosen to. I could not run from my fate. I had, and still have, many issues to solve at home. Perhaps there is an issue in Antarcha that you are meant to fix in your lifetime. Do not hesitate, take the job seriously. In these situations, it is all you can do." "But I can't do-" "False. There is always something you can do. I look forward to seeing what it is." Wyntere stood, looking at the woman in front of her, who only glared directly into her eyes, and seemingly into her soul. The FiHamian dipped her head slightly, beginning to turn away. "Thank you." Wyntere said. The FiHamian no longer spoke, but as she walked away with her partner, she glanced back at Wyntere, and smiled. She turned away again, and the pair made their way out of the room. "Wyntere, it was a pleasure to meet you, and I look forward to our marriage." Jakobai walked up once again to Wyntere, just as confident as he was when they met. "Don't get any ideas." Wyntere merely growled, turning away from the prince. When I next see my mother... "I apologize, miss." Jakobai sighed. As he walked away, Wyntere couldn't help but wonder just how much Jakobai knew about the engagement, and how much he agreed with it. |
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