Of Royals & Pirates

II • Happy Birthday

The crowd's cheers resonate throughout the grand ballroom before dropping into a lively pandemonium. Nearby, the musicians start to play a festive song, to which some of the guests start dancing to.

Pristine white spreads are draped across the long tables; large glass plates and bowls showcasing the opulent and variegated colorful dishes, their presence making an grand display. A large turkey is placed on a painted ceramic plate with thick, red brown sauce dripping from its sides. On another table, glass pitchers drenched by tiny droplets of water reveal the colorful, bubbly contents inside them.

Princess Emeri isn't the one to skip over details. Every party, be it formal or informal, always holds certain significance. In short, they're always grand. Last year, her birthday had been a masquerade ball. The other nobles do not seem to have a problem about Emeri's schemes. Who could deny free food anyways?

"You are here," someone says. Albert turns and sees Abel smiling down at him. A rare smile, so to say. "I have been looking for you. Your suitors have been too."

His face pales. "No, no. Can't you tell them to go? For a while?"

"I cannot. One seemed particularly enthusiastic about you, so I suppose you pay her your respects."

"And only my respects," Albert states firmly.

Abel rolls their eyes and smoothens the golden sheer fabric of their dress. "Talk to them."

"Fine."

They lead him to the center of the ballroom, pointing to a blonde-haired girl with a white gown on talking to several people. "Kirsten is a noble of quite a high status," Abel singsongs. "She has a good sense of humor and a kind heart. At least, as far as I know."

He sighs in exasperation. "That's what you say about all my suitors."

"Talk," Abel deadpans.

Albert walks toward the small group and clears his throat loudly to announce his presence. Kirsten glances at him and a wide smile instantly shines on her face.

"Kirsten? How would you like a little chat?" he inquires, shifting his weight nervously.

"A pleasure, Your Highness!" Kirsten beams. She hurriedly waves her friends goodbye and rushes to his side.

Enthusiasm to see the future king of Catalonia... of course. A common trait most of his suitors possess. It used to bore him, but now it only gets on his nerves.

"What is it to be talked about?" she asks, voice dropping to barely above a whisper.

"Ah, just normal things. Let's go to the garden for a quieter space."

"Let's."

The moon hangs low in the sky, marking the young night. The festivities melt away into the distance as they both walk farther from the ballroom.

"Your Highness, if I may interrupt," Kirsten says, sounding distant.

"Call me Albert, we're just as young. Go ahead."

"I don't wish to assume but... I take it you're not a party person?"

Albert stifles a laugh at the absurdity of the question. Was it even funny? "Well... no," he hesitates. "My sisters are but I prefer hanging in quiet places more."

"I prefer hanging in quiet places more too," she echoes.

"Oh..."

The cold night breeze picks up speed. Kirsten shivers and looks up at him, smiling wryly. "It must be hard for you, having to deal with all of this."