The morning after Celestia’s Noel celebrations, we traveled via Teodore’s teleportation magic to the Kingdom of Noir. There, I performed for only the second time in my life the lighting of the sacred flame. With that duty fulfilled, we returned to Malcosias.
I was elated at the prospect of resting in my own bed once more. The past week had been a whirlwind of ceremonial responsibilities. But before I could enjoy the comfort of my familiar cushions, one last obstacle remained—an audience with the emperor and empress.
Within the towering walls of the imperial castle, in the great hall adorned with the banners and emblems of the empire, the two imperious figures sat upon their thrones. Following Ed’s lead, I walked the length of the plush crimson carpet that stretched before the dais. We halted right by the foot of the thrones and offered a synchronized bow of our heads.
“Radiant suns of Malcosias, Emperor Eric; Empress Vanessa,” I intoned with a ritualistic grace. “I, Saint Carolina Ruby Martinez, have returned.”
“And I, Edward, commander of the Pyreborn, have come to report the success of my mission,” my husband added, his voice steady and resolute.
As our voices echoed and faded into the vastness of the throne room, we waited for the emperor’s response. Though the occasion was rigid with formality, the emperor’s relaxed expression offered us a hint of relief. His demeanor revealed his mood long before he spoke. With a slow and measured gesture, he raised his hand. “You may be at ease. News of the success of the Faith Council’s inaugural assignment has already reached my court. Well done, both of you.” His eyes softened, pride shimmering in their depths. “The empire’s Noel festivities yet remain, but I trust that you both will execute your roles flawlessly. I’m looking forward to it.”
The empress spoke next. “We will be hosting a grand soirée on the night of Noel at the imperial castle. You are both formally invited. It is during this celebration that we will be officially announcing that the matter of succession has been settled.”
Such important news had never been delivered more nonchalantly. “Though the investiture will not take place for some time,” she added, as if it were merely an afterthought.
The suddenness of it all took me aback. An unseemly “huh?” escaped my lips as I looked at Ed and he at me. He seemed just as surprised by the news, his large, golden eyes blinking in disbelief. His reaction confirmed my suspicion: this was news that should have been delivered to us well in advance! And was it indeed wise to announce it already? Prince Gilbert’s efforts had helped massage the factionalism within the nobility. Surely this new incitement could wait?
But then I realized that this wasn’t solely about the nobility. It was about the people. The ordinary citizens had lived under the shadow of uncertainty regarding the future of their kingdom for far too long. The emperor and empress owed them clarity and security, and it seemed they intended to deliver it without delay.
“Of course,” I replied, regaining my composure. “I will most certainly be in attendance.”
“I’ll be there as well, to witness my brother’s big day,” Ed added.
A look of satisfaction crossed the emperor’s face, the corners of his eyes crinkling with approval. The empress, too, allowed her lips to quirk ever so slightly upwards—a pleased acknowledgment of our readiness to comply.
“For accepting this most belated invitation, you have my gratitude,” the emperor said, his voice resonating with regal authority. Then his tone slipped into something more familiar. “That’s all. You may retire. My apologies for calling you here so suddenly after your return. Tomorrow will demand much of you. Go now, and rest.”
“Well done, both of you,” the empress added, her voice serious but kind. “We will hear your detailed report later. For now, rest.”
Her Majesty’s solemnity remained unbroken, even as she gave the most practical advice—don’t stay up too late. Her genuine concern brought a smile to my lips, though I quickly bowed my head in gratitude.
“Yes, Your Majesties!” Ed and I chorused in unison. Then, with the precision of a choreographed dance, we rose from our bows at the exact same moment, our postures straight and formal. With polite farewells, we turned and exited the grand throne room, retreating along the same path we had entered.
The briefness of our audience was a welcome relief. With our duties momentarily behind us, Ed and I spent the remainder of the day enjoying some much-needed leisure at the Emerald Palace. As evening fell, he departed for the night, and we both finally found rest in a peaceful slumber.
It’s not over until it’s truly over, I reminded myself the next morning as I prepared for the day ahead. As always, Marisa deftly dressed me, carefully draping the gossamer shawl over my shoulders before turning her attention to my hair and makeup. When she was done, Saint Carolina was ready to step into the world once more.
“You still have some time before your departure, Your Highness,” Marisa observed as she tidied away her tools and hair oils. Then, with a soft gesture of care, she draped a blanket over my lap. “Why not take a moment to relax?”
I felt blessed beyond words to have a handmaiden so equally capable and considerate. I nodded and offered her my thanks, feeling the warmth both on my legs and in my heart. But, as ever, she brushed aside my gratitude with a humble “I am your handmaiden, Your Highness. It is what I do.”
A wry smile crept onto my lips as I turned my gaze towards my bodyguard standing vigilantly by the door. “Owen, could you assist me with something?”
“Anything, Your Highness,” he replied promptly.
I gestured towards that side of the room. “In the largest cabinet there, in the drawer, there should be two boxes. Could you fetch them for me?” I asked. “They should be blue and orange.”
Though it was a task far beneath a knight of his stature, Owen moved towards the cabinet with swift efficiency without hesitation or complaint. I hated to trouble him with such menial tasks, but dressed as carefully as I was, the last thing I wanted was to risk tearing or staining my garments. This shawl in particular had a way of catching on anything it could, and with the ceremony fast approaching, I wished to avoid any mishaps by minimizing my movements.
If only I had a spare, I thought ruefully, my fingers absently caressing the delicate fabric. But alas, we didn’t have the time. Its smooth, glossy texture was a pleasure to touch, and I couldn’t help but smile as I admired it. My musings were interrupted by Owen’s return, the blue and orange boxes in hand.
“Have I brought Your Highness the correct boxes?” Owen asked, his tone polite and formal.
“Yes, perfect,” I replied. “Thank you. Could you place them on the table next to me?”
“As you will,” he said with a nod, carefully setting the two wrapped boxes on the small table beside me. The vibrant colors and neatly tied ribbons made it clear that these were gifts—ones I had prepared myself.
“If that is all, I shall resume my post,” Owen said, beginning to turn back towards the door.
“Ah, wait,” I called after him, smiling. “Stay for a moment, if you will.”
He hesitated for a brief second, his brow furrowing slightly in confusion, but complied nonetheless. I thanked him softly before summoning Marisa to join us. She stepped forward and took her place beside Owen, and there we were—a princess flanked by her two loyal attendants, standing on opposite sides of a small end table.
It felt strange, seeing them both before me when they were so often behind me—watching over me, supporting me. Strange, yes, but also...nice. My eyes softened into a smile, but then I readjusted my expression, fixing my stalwart guardian and my ever-attentive caretaker with a sincere gaze.
“Owen, Marisa,” I began, my voice earnest, “I wanted to express my gratitude. It’s because of your tireless efforts that I’m able to live without worrying about the small things—because of you, I’m able to give my full attention to what truly matters in my life.”
I smiled then, and I imbued every word I spoke with the deepest honesty. But even so, I knew that mere words would never be enough to convey the depth of my appreciation. It went beyond expression—it was rooted in something I could never fully articulate.
“You’ve both been with me since the day I first arrived in the empire, and I wouldn’t have made it to this moment without you,” I continued, my heart swelling with the truth of it. “You’ve humored this often clueless princess far more than she deserves, and for that, you have my deepest gratitude. Always and forever, I hope that you’ll continue to remain by my side.”
With those words, I gently pushed the blue box towards Marisa and the orange one towards Owen. “These are my gifts to you. It would mean the world to me if you accepted them. They’re homemade, so...I’m not entirely sure of their usefulness.” My voice faltered as a familiar doubt crept back in. Perhaps I really should have gotten them precious gems instead? I know they asked for homemade, and that’s what I did, but...oh. What if they were just being polite?
Their silence and blank stares seemed to speak volumes. I feared I might have committed the worst kind of faux pas. What have I done? I wondered in panic. What had possessed me to think that homemade gifts would suffice? Why had I been so naive, assuming that they would appreciate something so simple just because it came from me, a royal? My thoughts spiraled rapidly, and I was half tempted to pull the gifts back and retract the entire offer, saving us all from this potential embarrassment.
But just as I was bracing myself for the worst, after what felt like an eternity, Owen and Marisa suddenly snapped out of their stupor. In one fluid motion, they reached for their gifts as one. Each hugged the brightly wrapped boxes tightly to their chests.
“Your Highness, thank you so very much! I’ll treasure this with my life!” they both exclaimed in perfect unison, their voices filled with such childlike enthusiasm that it caught me completely off guard. Their eyes sparkled with unrestrained joy, wide smiles spreading across their faces—so pure, so innocent, it was as if they had momentarily forgotten they stood in my presence.
I blinked once, twice, but that didn’t help me comprehend what I was seeing. “Huh?” I muttered, unable to mask my confusion. This pure, unadulterated gladness—they weren’t acting, were they? No, surely not. Neither of them would ever risk breaking protocol in front of me just to feign excitement. They were far too diligent for any such thing.
Realization slowly dawned on me: their joy was genuine. I sat quietly for a moment, letting the scene unfold before me. They cradled their boxes gently, almost reverently. After a long moment, Marisa finally spoke again.