Rhodoreef

20. The Young Minister

Contentment came in many forms. She experienced one kind when she slept in on Sundays or when she watched Burpy use flatulence to propel himself up. The soul-deep kind was more elusive. The first time she felt it was back on her ninth birthday, when she sneaked into Gramma's room and found a photo of her parents—a grainy, candid shot of them on the cays, laughing under a coconut tree. Clad in wide-brimmed hats and sand-specked holiday shirts of a bygone trend, they appeared to be no older than twenty. Dad's profile showed her where she got her smallish nose, and Mom, despite the attire, exuded an elegance that brought to mind a queen.

Now, as she watched Dilip descend the staircase to greet her, spurring visions of a better tomorrow, that warm fuzz of contentment blossomed within and spread all the way to her extremities. Her mind blurred out the background noise and soaked him in. He was a work of the finest terrestrial art with his effulgent smile that outshone the crystal chandelier above.

Suddenly aware of curious onlookers, Dea took in a tremulous breath and glided forward. The hubbub of many voices resounded in the commodious space and drowned out the subtle whir of her land machine.

Dilip advanced towards her, oozing charisma from his impeccable outfit to his perfect smile. "Dea, I'm so glad you could make it! Welcome."

She beamed and tapped out a reply. "Thank you."

His curious gaze focused on the unfurled ogi in her hands. "That is...a strange device."

"It works a bit similar to your devices."

He raised his eyebrows. "You're full of surprises!"

Dea sensed heads turning towards the staircase again. She glanced up in time to see a portly human amble down, flanked by two men in suits.

"That's my dad," Dilip said in answer to her quizzical look.

The prime minister of Serendiva! A jolt shot down all the way to her flukes at the prospect of her great reveal and the reactions it would elicit.

"How are you feeling?" Dilip asked, long eyelashes fluttering as he surveyed her closely. "I was thinking about what Miss Shiromi said—"

"I'm alright," she hastened to respond, flattered by his attention.

"Can I get you a drink?"

"Thanks. Maybe later."

"Hm, would you like to go somewhere more private before dinner?" he asked. "I have so much to ask you."

"Yes, I'd love to." Dea's grin strained against her cheeks. "I have so much to tell you too."

He made a sweeping gesture, the perpetual smile sitting snugly on his face. "Follow me."

Dilip walked across the foyer, and conversations stuttered in his wake. He exchanged words with several guests along the way while she synced with his step, almost light-headed with giddiness.

Soon afterwards, she found herself traversing a hallway with gigantic windows, which afforded a view of the moonlit garden. Her thoughts strayed to Anuk, and she gave her head a quick shake.

The noise lowered to a dull throb the further they went. Dilip breezed up to glass doors that led outside and flung them open. A cool wind wafted in and ruffled her hair.

"How about a walk?" he asked.

A night-time stroll with Prince Dilip! She wouldn't have thought it possible, but the delight she experienced was greater than the time she won a selfie opportunity with the Dottyback Boys, her favorite pop rock band. She almost wanted to pinch herself to check if she was dreaming.