NELNIFA CORLEDIA has a weak voice. When outrage sparks because of her mistake, she diverts the attention to the real problem: the truth to why their territory is poor. This takes Nelnifa to fishing ports, weaving districts, and back to the very plac...
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2404 Qintax 11, Reshpe
The crowd was dizzying when Nelnifa peeked past the velvet curtains separating the raised platform and the stairs leading to it. She took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with it. A podium stood in the middle of the platform, her father already stepping into it. That action sent a cloud of hushed silence over the crowd, turning the most listeless ones still. Awe flushed through Nelnifa's cheeks. That's...cool.
"Citizens, we are gathered here because you all have something important to learn," the Potentate said, his voice carrying all the way to the back of the audience, stretching as far back as Nelnifa could see. He must be wearing one of those collars that enhances one's voice. "We have called you here because we have heard your cry for freedom and our office now has an answer for it."
Nelnifa blew a breath, knowing full well what would come next. "Without further ado, your Princess, Nelnifa Corledia, will be bringing you the full truth about our situation and about what we could do about it," he said. She still considered it a miracle her father agreed about the whole thing. Usually, he was strict against letting state secrets out. Up to this point, she still didn't know what she did to change her father's stance.
Applause broke through the crowd, some whoops joining the melee. Nelnifa steadied her breathing, gripping the stair's single balustrade to keep herself from falling over. Her knees shook and her heart drummed inside her chest. She exhaled from her mouth. She had come this far, hadn't she? It's time for her to finish this. Rather, it's time for her to start something new.
She sucked her breath and drew the curtain back. The applause dwindled as her father stepped away from the podium and offered it to her. Silence reigned as the Potentate unhooked a blue-stringed collar from his neck and slung it around her. Then, for real, her father took her place behind the curtain, leaving her all alone.
She looked at the sea of faces morphing and differentiating in front of her. Smiles, rustles of clothes, bright light from the morning sun. Children playing, being shushed by their mothers, crying because of a lost seashell or toy. Expectant eyes waiting for her to open her mouth. Eyes that would judge her the second she did.
She clenched her jaw. Just do it.
"Um," she blurted, her throat and tongue refusing to cooperate once more. The speech she had memorized the day before had flitted out of her mind like a colony of kranclas. "I, um..."
Her knuckles turned white from bracing the podium's sides for as long and tight as she did. "I-I know you probably don't think much of me," she lurched on, unsure of what she was saying. "But I have scoured our territory for the reason why we aren't doing so well. And I found out something interesting, something that would ignite your passion for our race and your heart for our territory."
"The real enemy is not Lanteglos nor the Imperial power," Nelnifa continued. Slowly, her throat cleared up and her tongue worked just as fine. What was that? It looked like she got the hang of this public speaking thing. Of course, her mouth was still dry and her chest still felt like it would burst, but surprisingly, talking felt...easier, somehow.
