Papuru Star: Coalition Carnage

Chapter 23: Portrait of a Princess

PAST

The castle had high walls of stone and glass, with a dozen narrow towers that were forked at the top. Wide windows or archer slots were scattered around the walls symmetrically and a huge, heavy looking gate of wood was bridging over a river that stretched further along the horizon. All were decorated with the various banners of the houses of Biquin and with celebratory salutations, commemorating the day of the king's birth. Festive music from horned and stringed instruments filled the air, along with balloons and trained turtledoves, their tiny shells painted green to match the king's eyes.

While the grounds around Castle Mishoria held many events such as jousting and bird aerobatics, inside the thousand year old walls held the nobles and royal families of Biquin. The Grand Hall, where the king and queen were hosting the event, was spectacular in its splendor; purple sunlight shining through the glass skylight onto opulent wood carved tables, packed with delicacies. Artwork depicting the royal couple lined the stone walls, statues of them immortalized in glass or hued carvings of stone. Acrobats played on wires high over the heads of the near two hundred party goers.

Atop a dais of fifteen steps were two thrones upon which sat the king and queen of the Biquin kingdom. Tristen Biquin wore a crown of polished wood and jewels, royal garb of black and gold hung loosely about his slender frame, as if it were too hot in the spacious hall. He nursed a drink, slouching on the cushioned chair. Greens and blues made up the queen's attire that hugged her more adequately then her spouse and her crown was studded with twice the amount of jewels. Jysti Biquin gestured with a delicate wave and a beast with reddish brown fur next to her raised its long nose. The sound it produced was like that of the horned instruments outside. The guests silence at the noise to look up at their rulers. The royal couple rose to their equally impressive seven feet to address family and friends.

It was during their speech that Avia Zareil made her entrance. Her gown of white satin, cut at the shoulders, hovered inches from the tiled floor. Her tone biceps were bare, while her forearms were covered in a silver sleeve and her striking black hair was pinned up, exposing her dangling pearl earrings. Her appearance drew attention, including those on the dais. The king eyed her, then downed his drink in one gulp; the queen smiled warmly as she induce those present to welcome the king on his one thousand, three hundred and eleventh birthday with song. Avia joins in with the hundreds of voices. Throughout the raucous melody, the king never broke eye contact with her.

Avia (thinking)
My sisters say I look like a completely different person when I paint my face. That's good. I've met the king once, when he came to visit father over a hundred years ago. It would be counterproductive to be recognized now. That's it, my dear king. Notice how attentive I am.

When the singing and applause died down, King Biquin began speaking about how grateful he was.

Avia (thinking)
When I initially got hired on as kitchen staff, it was to clandestinely discover how they choose their Superstars over here. Of the five on the Provisional Council, the two Highnesses up there hold the highest sway, obviously. Then, I learn you still keep your adulterous ways, after pledging public fidelity and forever love to your queen. So I befriend her. It wasn't difficult; I've seen people like her melt over just a bit of flattery where I'm from.

After wishing those present to enjoy themselves, the king and queen descend from over their charge to mingle amongst them; shaking hands and hugging family. Avia notices Biquin cut an eye her way every chance he could, remaining unnoticed by his wife. The pair were making their way in her general direction, passing the shadow puppet theater and marsupial band playing out a jig at the direction of their conductor. She drifted toward them in turn, drawing her share of admires, men and women both, turning down two marriage proposals in the process. She resonates icy solitude to persuade others from talking to her, dropping the demeanor once the queen reached her, tailed by a group hanging on her every word. Avia hugs the queen in a brief embrace, smiling her best for the dozens of eyes on them.