Amnicity forgot how glorious food could be. The roasted vegetables and fowl did not vary far from usual meals, but she needed the sustenance as nerves and thoughts of how her gown would fit curbed her appetite earlier.

"Be sure to eat some rolls." Valander passed the plate to her.

"Not too much." Christaline paused her daughter's hand.

"The wine is strong. Nici will need something to balance it," Valander whispered.

Christaline's sighed, waving her hand in agreement.

"How many rolls should be taken?" Amnicity asked, eyeing the basket warily.

"Two," Valander responded.

His daughter's worried expression transitioned to slight determination as she took the two rolls.

Amnicity sighed, placing them daintily on her plate. Her eyebrows furrowed as she picked up her glass for a sip of wine. These actions seemed too controlled and unnatural for her liking.

I am sitting at a table waiting for suitors to approach me and present gifts. And, I am fretting over rolls? Is this what it means to be a society lady? Or, could the fantasies of my novels be real? What if the man from the garden gave me an extravagant gift? Mother and Father could not say no to his proposal for my hand. Then, he would be of a decent birth so that all of our concerns could be ended in one night.

Amnicity happily tore a piece of her roll away, thinking about the lace on her wedding dress.

"Let the presentation begin," King Valander announced.

His daughter's shocked eyes flittered from him to the doors as the music ceased and the large wooden doors opened.

In the past, the gift presented served as a sign of the suitor's clout and could determine the heir's betrothal. Amnicity always thought forced matrimony based on prescribed choices was the start of the greatest love stories. Unfortunately, the practice now served as an unromantic tradition from when only Vetusian men were eligible for her hand. Unfortunately, her parents would choose her husband based on more than just a gift. There would be no fantasy.

"High General Fenallia presents his region's finest wines to begin the Princess's collection." The announcer's voice boomed, slamming his staff twice on the ground.

Five unnamed men rolled the barrels of wine from the region of Henta into the room. One barrel's price usually equated to a pearl bracelet, but Amnicity would not part from a pearl bracelet for wine. It seemed unladylike to do so.

It is an acceptable gift. Not one for me, but perhaps my husband would want it. So, it is satisfactory, I suppose.

The moments of silence extended until Amnicity realized the hall waited for her words.

Amnicity started slightly before lifting her glass of wine with a smile. "Thank you, High General Fenallia, for the Hentian wine. May all of our cups overflow with joy."

High General Fenellia's enjoyment of the moment ended when someone brashly pulled him down to his chair. The hall broke into polite applause as a gentleman in the rear of the hall uncoordinatedly stood, bowing towards Amnicity as the barrels of wine were rolled away again. All applause stopped when the sound of wood scratching against marble echoed, allowing murmurs to circulate the hall.

Valander motioned for his glass of wine to be filled. "This will be a long evening."

"Pace yourself, darling. Remember, there is still dancing to come." Christaline whispered through the announcement of furs being bestowed by the High General Breelon from the region of Wrestan.

Amnicity missed her father's retort as the evening continued. In truth, Amnicity felt slightly lost within her own wine while the tediousness of the evening continued. She knew not to indicate favoritism towards any gift. Thus, each gift received the same gratitude, laced with appropriate sincerity. Nothing warranted any special attention or consideration. Jewels, rare paintings, porcelain, and elegant fabrics became a redundant expectation.

I would not marry anyone for these things.

"From Konri Mezio of Preena," the announcer's voice echoed before the two beats across the floor followed.

"Please do not be more porcelain. I cannot stand looking at another silly pattern." Valander whispered, resulting in his daughter camouflaging her smirk behind a sip from her wineglass.

The soft beating of drums met their ears. Amnicity leaned forward in her chair. She found Preena's exotic and spiritual nature fascinating. Her grandmother had described their northern neighbors as a savage place filled with magic.

Unlike Jude, Preena remained savage due to their terrain consisted primarily of ice and mountain. Preenians welcomed winter as a time of birth and feared summer as the time of death.  After all, summer was when slumbering beasts would awaken and could kill humans with giant claws.  

The fear of warmth could have also been due to their legends of dragons and other magical creatures. Though, there could be some truth to the tales. Small groups of people traveled the lands talking of spirits and powers. It is said, even the royal family of Preena participates in some of the travelers' traditions.

Suddenly the drumming stopped as a long white sheet rolled across the floor. It halted a few inches from the first step. A soft beat began as the movement in the cloth snaked along the ground to match the rhythm. Amnicity's heart slowly increased with the drum while watching the cloth move as if it had its own mind. Then, the cloth's dance stopped.

A glass shattered near the hall's doors as a green and blue feather-dressed head poked around the side of the wooden doorway. The doorman knocked the performer on the head with his wooden staff. The feather-dressed head startled for a moment, then growled, showing its white teeth. A few chuckles reverberated through the hall.

The drum's tempo matched the bird-like performer as one arm entered, followed by the rest of the animalistic dancer. A moment of silence accompanied a pause in movement. Amnicity could hear the sharp intake of her own breath, which only exhaled when another animalistic performer entered the room. This performer had a similar feathered headdress with darker colors of blue with purple.

Her eyes widened in wonder. They are birds. What was the Preenian legend again? It was one about the spirits and messengers. I think one of them had been a human. Oh, I need to pay more attention sometimes.

After a few moments, the drums found a rhythm again, as the two beasts' mannerisms became tender. A wind instrument smoothed the movements and beat. Arms reached for the sky while legs turned the dancers around. Their embraces seemed fleeting but powerful when connected to the earth. They appeared intent on meeting some end. As if their dance could call the spirits to them.

The dance and music continued in such fluidity that it took Amnicity a moment to realize it had ended. Silence and unmoving dancers waited for her, but all she felt was the pulse that ensnared her heart. It felt light and joyful.

They are waiting.

Amnicity touched her heart with one hand as if trying to clutch on to the feeling.

"Beautiful," she sighed, willing to believe in any magical story Preena told her.

Applause mirrored her unreserved admiration as the performers removed their feathers and bowed. Hushed whispers resumed once the instruments and beasts exited the halls. Amnicity's eyebrow rose inquisitively as the guards left the white sheet.

"Oh good, another performance. These are far more interesting than gifts," Christaline whispered.

Amnicity concurred with a nod of her head as Valander scoffed, breaking a roll.

"From Suzerain Abran and Suzerain Zakarus of Jude." The voice announced before providing the customary two strikes on the floor.

Amnicity scrunched her nose. Jude should really work on having different titles for its ruler and heir. At least Preena has use Konri for the king and Konrik for the prince to recognize the difference. But I guess they are all just one sword fight away from taking over in Jude.

Two soldiers entered the room barefoot, dressed differently than Amnicity's usual understanding of a Vetusian soldier's uniform. Both gentlemen wore white slacks and shirts made of a material that looked more comfortable than the wool jackets prescribed for their men. They held similar slim builds with tanned skin and the subtle signs of muscular arms and legs. The one on the left had light blonde hair with a slightly smaller nose. The other had a slightly deeper tan and dark brown hair.

Their continuous, synchronized steps stopped a few feet from the first steps while their stares remained beyond the royalty before them. With drilled precision, the two soldiers bowed to Amnicity before turning to one another and bowed again. The soft scrape of metal upon leather caused small bumps to emerge on Amnicity's skin.

Jude gave me a duel.   Oh no, what if one is a general? Wait, not that is the word they use. What is it?   If I am about to die, I might as well get the title right.  Koman! What if one is a Koman and turns to strike us down?

At the first contact of their swords, Amnicity's right hand grasped her father's while the other remained calmly on her armrest.

"Do not show fear, daughter," Valander whispered.

Amnicity's efforts to follow his advice ended when she saw the first signs of blood. Red stained the blonde soldier's white pants and the sheet below.

The white sheet soon became a canvas for the soldiers' artistic battle. Dots scattered from the wayward wounds as the soldiers moved around the hall, while long streaks accompanied any sustained action on the ground. Amnicity had not observed a battle like this before. The two moved to disarm or avoid their attacker using kicks as well as their sword.

She swallowed bile while watching red spread through the cloth like a spider web. Amnicity had been taught Judian tradition. But, she did not know if this display would end when they reached a particular mark tally or with death.

"Oh," Amnicity murmured when the sword penetrated the blonde gentleman's thigh.

The blonde soldier's staggering steps caused Amnicity to prepare for the worst. There will be no mercy. Our neighbors to the south show no mercy, even to their own.

The brunette soldier glanced at Amnicity before moving closer to the blonde. Smooth steel entered the blonde soldier's heart with a sickening sound. Crashing wine glasses and fainting followed as Amnicity felt her heart clench.

Her breaths came in small pants. She clutched onto her father's hand and the armrest of her chair, watching the victorious soldier remove his sword. The blonde soldier's breaths remained ragged for a few more moments. Dark brown hair fell over the eyes of the victorious soldier as he bowed to his fallen comrade. Amnicity watched them share a few words before the brunette rose and walked to her. His fluid movements ended in a kneel at the bottom of the steps. She willed herself not to look away as he deposited the two swords at her feet.

"For Princess Amnicity." The soldier murmured, rising to his feet as the blonde soldier's last labored breaths sounded in the hall.

Amnicity's eyes remained on the blood-drenched weapons as three male servants hurried into the room. They passed the brunette soldier as he took a glass of wine from a raven-haired lady and then a jug of wine off the table as he exited the hall. A sardonic hurrah could be heard somewhere in the silenced hall as the soldier left.

The silenced hall watched as one male servant collected the blades and the others used the blood-stained sheet to roll the blonde soldier from the room. Amnicity could still see red upon the hall floor from where their canvas laid.

That was no gift.  How-what do I say?

"Thank them," Valander hissed.

Amnicity hid her perturbed countenance as the doors slammed shut. She looked from her father's gaze to the unwavering attention of her guests. A slightly shaking hand went to her glass as she forced a smile.

"I believe all my gifts are now graciously accepted. Thank you for your kindness." Amnicity spoke, transitioning her glass from the salutation to her lips.

A murmur resounded in the hall as everyone followed her example. Christaline looked to Valander.

"It seems we are now ready to transition to the garden," Christaline announced as a set of glass doors opened behind them.

The hall rose with Christaline as she paused to turn to her husband and daughter. With little acknowledgment of the continued whispers, the reigning monarchs and heir of Vetus exited the hall.

Amnicity numbly observed her surroundings. Letting the band's music ease her nerves as she tried to find something beautiful amongst the candlelight and torches surrounding the open circle.

"Steady your nerves," Christaline whispered.

"Yes, we will need one person to be steady if we are to complete this first dance without too much folly." Valander quipped to his daughter's amusement.

"Father, you will be fine." Amnicity laughed lightly, placing a soft hand on his arm, allowing the discomfort of the sword exhibition to abate.

The swords would need to be adequately cleaned before she did anything with them. Well, if she decided to. It seemed a daunting task to think of where such artifacts could go. They obviously could not be an accessory since the blade would ruin some of her favorite dresses.

A female voice interrupted her thoughts. "It is an honor to meet you, Princess Amnicity."

Amnicity's smiled at the masked face of the auburn-haired lady. The woman's kind hazel eyes shone behind her mask as it sat upon a slightly upturned nose.

"Thank you." Amnicity returned, admiring the emerald color of the lady's dress. "Your dress is stunning."

"Thank you, Your Majesty. The dress is one of my whims from this past month. It seemed perfect for your sumptuous celebration."

"You even did the beading?" Amnicity motioned towards the bodice of her dress.

"Oh, yes." the lady laughed. "The beading is by far the most taxing part. It makes my eyes and fingers tired."

"Well, you have a gift for the art," Amnicity smiled at the lady's blush, exhibiting at the point where her satin mask met cheek.

The auburn-haired lady averted her eyes before curtseying to Valander.

"Congratulations, Princess Amnicity." a blonde-haired gentleman behind a navy mask bowed.

Any initial abilities to entertain conversation seemed to slowly wain as the pleasantries became disingenuous. Sincerity remained wanting when accepting felicitations from strangers.  She almost sighed in relief after welcoming their last guest.

"Let this terror be done with." Valander turned to offer Amnicity his hand.

Amnicity studied her father inquisitively for a moment while following him to the dance floor. The music immediately ceased as the air filled with a brisk shuffle of papers and hurried whispers.

In moments, the first chords of a song sounded over Valander's slight hum. The father and daughter stood for a moment before Valander led her through the dance.

"Remember to be cordial," Valander stated through slightly parted lips.

Amnicity strained to hear him. "Wha-?"

"Do not turn your head." Valander hissed, jerking Amnicity back into a proper position with her eyes staring far off from his shoulder. "It would not be good if you unknowingly insulted the gift from Jude to the Suzerain."

"Do you think I have not been trained properly, Father?" Amnicity retorted through her smile.

He snorted. "Lessons are different than actions, my dear."

Thanks to her learned grace, Amnicity contained her exasperation. Instead, she used his words constructively to imagine the gentlemen she'd encounter this evening as romantic heroes. Any imperfections would be considered an endearing part of their personality.

Unfortunately, her imagination could not conceal the first gentleman's pungent odor. Amnicity had never been so thankful for feathery touches and sweeping turns on the dance floor; it protected her dress from his putrid odor.

She then discovered that drunken gentlemen were the most difficult to dance with, especially during the galliards. A black-haired gentleman with an ostentatious purple mask almost dropped her. The band immediately terminated the dance.

"Princess Amnicity, are you okay?" he asked.

"Yes, of course." Amnicity laughed. "It is simply a hazard of dancing."

"We could discontinue, or—"

"No, do not worry. I trust you." Amnicity smiled, easing the tension on his face. "Now, where is the music?"

She did not wish to ruin the gentleman's confidence but made sure her cardholder knew he would not receive her hand again this evening.

"Oh, of course, Princess Amnicity," his shaking voice murmured, immediately scanning her card.

"How many more gentlemen are there?" Amnicity ventured, trying to glance at the card.

"There is only one more required gentleman who—"

Amnicity interrupted him before he could finish. "I am going to take a break," she sighed, causing the young boy to nod. "Let whomever you must know. Just do not make it too obvious to avoid sport."

Amnicity did not stay to hear an answer as she stealthy grabbed a glass of wine to ease her nerves and moved to hide within the high bushes of the garden. The high hedges served almost like a maze for those unfamiliar with them—a perfect hideaway for her since she was not in the mood for cordial and superficial conversation. Forced smiles and amusement proved to be far more fatiguing than expected.

Amnicity moved a few feet into the garden before finding a small enclave within the bushes to hide. She did her best to avoid stains by not resting her dress against the leaves. The paranoia proved to be challenging, with her weary feet beginning to ache.

After a moment, she rolled her eyes and leaned back. Stop being silly. You never stained your dresses doing this before. You are fine hiding here. It is the perfect spot, with only one way in and out.

As Amnicity rested against the bush, she heard a female voice whose accent transitioned between lilt and burr in an almost musical way. "You are too kind about this spectacle, Suzera Irina. I cannot wait for you to attend our winter festivities. This event hardly compares to the wonder we strive to create."

The princess glared through the bushes in the direction she heard the voices coming from. A suzera means she is a Princess of Jude, and the other must be from Preena if she's talking about a winter festival. Those winches.

Another female voice responded in an accent similar to that of the gentleman in her garden. "Well, it has been splendid so far. Never have I—"

The Preenian woman interrupted her. "Oh, that is true. I forget you and your cousin are not accustomed to such events." Amnicity scrunched her nose when she laughed in an unnaturally high octave. "Wait until this winter's ball. Then, you will behold an exquisite royal affair."

"What?" Amnicity hissed to herself, gathering her wits with a sip of wine while rising to a fully standing position.

Slighting us is their thanks for inviting them here? Only if they were on the side of the entrance. I could step out and provide a pointed glance to make them uneasy without initiating anything.

"I will be excited to attend," the suzera responded.

The Preenian lady hummed her agreement before continuing to speak. "It is humorous to think this celebration is simply for a lady being born. On my entrance to society, no gifts of homage were required. My mother did not even require me to kill a bear. My grandmother was not pleased about that. Do you think they still consider us subservient? Oh, do not look so shocked. I heard rumors your uncle and cousin are of the same inclination."

What do Preena and Jude think of us? Is this what Mother and Father were concerned about? Are we that close to war?

"We are not looking to start a war," the Judian female responded tensely.

"Thank goodness! Neither does my family! It is just annoying to see power thrown around so haphazardly and in such an archaic manner. The demeaning idea of the elder brother continues as we humble ourselves by not even using the same titles to show our monarchies. I would say that things never change, but feelings and circumstances can turn quickly. For instance, what would you do if your uncle and cousin were gone?"

Amnicity's eyes widened at the Preenian lady's words. She is bold. Would they notice a rustling of the bushes if I tried to peer through?

"I would not even consider it to be a possible situation. Our Suzerains are strong. Do you dream of power?" The Judian lady pressed.

A moment of silence passed before the high octave laugh filled the air again. "Of course, I only wish the best for my people. Preena is in magical hands at the moment. I am excited to meet your cousin. Where has he gone?"

"I am unsure. I have been so happy to meet so many wonderful gentlemen and ladies that I have lost track of his whereabouts."

"Yes," the Preenian sighed. "Have you noticed that the Vetusian princess does not stand out amongst the ladies? She is hardly anything beyond conventional in looks. One would think such exotic lineage would provide something interesting to behold."

That is it. That Preenian wench will not insult my father by calling him exotic.

Amnicity stood and turned into the gardens. She made her way to their location but became dismayed on seeing the plethora of ladies in masks walking together. The princess pressed her lips together and pushed the feeling of foolishness away.

Maybe they walked further into the gardens to not be heard discussing politics.

Amnicity continued her pursuit beyond other whispering confidants and couples in scandalous positions.

If I knew more people, I would probably be able to destroy their reputations. Oh, that is an evil thought. Perhaps it is time to stop drinking wine. Now, where did those vile ladies go?

"Wait," Amnicity muttered, observing her environment. "I have gone too far."

The lights were now a faint flicker over the garden hedges, and the constant chatter had transformed into steady running water from a fountain near their palace's posterior wall. A sudden ache near the balls of her feet stopped her.

"It would not hurt to sit a little while," she whispered, turning the corner to see a fountain.

Amnicity smiled at inadvertently discovering some peace within the revelries. Being here is better than hiding in the bushes. A soft groan of relief escaped Amnicity's lips as she sat on the fountain's edge. Her breath released in a zealous sigh when she removed her slippers to stretch her abused feet.

"They would probably feel better if you put them in the water," a familiar baritone suggested.

Amnicity did not need to turn to verify that the voice was the gentleman from her garden. The small bumps on her flesh and sudden increase in her heart's rhythm were enough. Or, perhaps the reaction was because she recognized his accent. He was a bloody Judian.

***

Oh my, oh my!  A slightly longer chapter, but I hope y'all enjoyed it.  Any thoughts? :)

Last Edit: 7/18/21