Nine Years Ago

The church bells were ringing. Klaia twisted away from where her handmaiden, Illia, was braiding the last of her hair, pressing her face against the cool glass of the window. On a nice day, you could see the port from her bedroom, but the clouds were low in the sky, reminiscent of the early morning snow that glittered on the streets below. Frost clung to the edges of the window, melting as her breath glided across the pane. The bells meant that someone important had arrived at the port.

"Your highness," Illia murmured from behind her, "Hayrat and I must finish making you presentable before the royal family arrives at Dawnton."

Klaia glanced backward, and with a sigh impressive of an eight-year-old, obliged Illia to finish her hair, as her apprentice Hayrat worked on untying the fine outerwear laid on her bed. In a flurry of activity, Illia hosted her upwards, wrapping the thick winter skirt around her dress, and went on tying it in the back. The skirt was made of thick leather, lined with fine and warm fur of white and greys. The outside was adorned with blue and lavender silk strips at her waist, with embroidery of the same hues etched into the leather in geometric patterns, with pearls and beads and amethyst amongst the design. Hayrat grabbed her hands, slipping on thick mittens before wrapping furred straps around Klaia's wrists, sealing her hands inside. Tall boots matching the design of her skirt were yanked on over the top of woolen socks and laced up to under her knees. Finally, the matching coat was slipped on, the end reaching down to the tops of her knees. Illia arranged her hair under the coat, looping the front of the coat together shut, pulling up the neck cover, and sealing it into place. In one final motion, the large furred hood was pulled up over the top of her head, giving Klaia a halo of white and grey fur, and leaving only her small face peeking out amongst the clothing.

As Illia made the finishing touches, a knock sounded at the door, quickly followed by Inan making his way into her room.

"Inan!" Klaia cried cheerfully, rushing forwards to meet her brother, "Is it time to go?"

Inan let out a deep chuckle, representative of his ascent into puberty, and grabbed Klaia's hand, "It is snowbean, I believe the royal family will be here in the next half hour."

Taking his hand, Klaia and Inan exited the room, weaving their way throughout the castle halls, towards the main entrance of Dawnton. Klaia babbled to her older brother, excitedly explaining all the things she wanted to show the royal family.

Inan smiled, "Klaia, I'm sure they would be honored to see your favorite places, but not tonight. Remember, they traveled from south of the Enmark Sea and have had a very long journey. Tonight will be just formalities and dinner."

Klaia slumped at that. It was always about formalities.

Picking up on his younger sister's dejection, Inan whispered in her ear. "Though I've been doing a lot of research about the royal family, and their heir is about your age, a princess."

Klaia's eyes widened in excitement, "Really? Do you think she'll play with me?"

"Absolutely," Inan said, a smile in his voice.

The duo continued towards the main doors in silence. Inan strode forwards with the elegance hammered into him as the crown prince, while Klaia bumbled next to him, half skipping with the innocence only a child could portray. Inan's lips were set in a grim line as if he was about to face a battle rather than greet guests to the castle. As they grew closer, Inan slowed, seemingly nervous about the impending introductions.

He stopped, yanking Klaia by the arm towards him. She let out a protest at the jarring movement but quieted when she saw the serious look on Inan's face.

"Klaia, listen to me," Inan said, voice low and serious, "The royal family comes from Etrar remember?"

Klaia nodded, "The richest, most advanced nation on the planet. Mama said to behave." Her voice was soft, replicating the seriousness of her brother.

"Mama said to behave because they are so rich and powerful," Inan said. "But Klaia, they're so much more. The things they do, the land they lead, it's wondrous."

Klaia nodded, but confusion etched itself into the lines of her face.

Inan's grip tightened, "Klaia, listen to me. They can achieve all the technological breakthroughs, exploding economy, happy citizens, and so much more, because of their beliefs. Papa is wrong, about so many things."

"I don't understand," Klaia protested.

Inan shook his head, "I know you don't, but listen to me, just because he is Papa, does not mean he is right. When the time comes, and you understand, remember that we are nothing without our humanity. I've seen your heart, it is bigger than any one of us in this castle. Do not sacrifice that heart for Papa's teachings, do you hear me?"

Klaia nodded, fear settling itself into her stomach in a deep stone.

"Papa is already changing Keku, I'm sure you've seen it. He's meaner, doesn't play. I won't let him get you either."

"But won't you always be here?" Klaia whispered, clutching the front of her brother's coat.

Inan sighed, "I hope so. There is so much more going on that you don't understand. Remember, I will always love you and Keku so much, and will never abandon you."

Klaia nodded, but before she could say another word, servants passed and Inan straightened up, yanking Klaia with him towards the doors.

"Let's go Klaia!" he said, excitement in his voice. Gone was the serious and somber tone from the moment before like it never happened.

They rounded the corner, where the family was waiting. King Tirkus of Crecana stood large and tall, a glistening golden crown atop his head. Next to him, Queen Varja stood, several inches shorter with her hands clasped behind her back. Inan and Klaia dipped their heads in respect towards the ing, before kissing the queen's cheeks in greeting.

"Son," King Tirkus said, nodding his head towards Inan.

"Father," Inan returned.

"They will be upon us shortly, come along now," Tirkus announced, turning towards the large doors. Inan stepped up next to his father, one step behind, with his mother at his side. Keku and Klaia stepped in behind them, and the large doors opened to the freezing world outside.

The procession made its way across the royal lawn, towards the entrance gates. Servants, holding lanterns, lined the walkway, scooped clean of the morning snow. Guards marched next to the family, their boots drumming like a heartbeat in Klaia's ears. They stopped behind the main gate, and for a moment all she could hear was the winter wind whistling and her breath smoking in front of her.

The silence stretched until the clobber of horse hooves on the icy stone sounded. Horns like the wind sounded, followed by the deep rumbling of drums. The iron gate squealed as it was opened, and the procession made its way inside. There was movement, as servants stepped forward to grab luggage and open the side of the carriage. Klaia, the youngest and the shortest, could not see over her mother to glance at the family. Yet, she didn't move.

She could see her father's head nod in a greeting before his voice boomed outwards.

"Welcome to Crecana, King Sinhat of Etrar, and his family. We are honored to have you here in the nation of Crecana and our capitol, Avala."

"We are honored to be here King Tirkas and Queen Varja of Crecana," a new voice spoke, full of confidence and rhythm that Klaia had never heard before, like a singing bird, but rich and earthy.

There was a moment's pause, where the wind whistled, whipping Klaia's skirt around her as if no one knew how to proceed. Then, as if a dam had broken, Tirkus moved forward, clasping Sinhat's hand firmly before leading him towards the castle. Everyone moved at that, heading forwards in greeting. Klaia scampered on the edges, hoping that what Inan said was true, that there was a girl her age.

A coat moved and a young girl, no taller than her, stood on the other side. Klaia stopped, staring without malice but only the curiosity a child could glimmer in. The girl wore outerwear of plain making, though it was distinctly Crecanan. Inan's voice flittered through her head, reminding her they were from past the Enmark Sea. It was always warm there. Her skin was dark, a deep contrast to the blinding snow shimmering from the few rays peeking through the clouds. Her hair, Klaia noticed, was braided like hers, but in a style, she had never seen, perfectly divided and aligned, with shimmering gold and red beads hanging at the ends.

The girl stared back, and Klaia was met with the realization she had never seen eyes quite like hers, a deep rich brown that scoured Klaia's face. She suddenly sucked in a breath, before extending her hand in greeting.

"Crown Princess Amithelia Kiatonan of Etrar, a pleasure to meet you," she recited.

Klaia grasped her hand, responding much less gracefully, "Princess Klaia Batellia of Crecana."

Amithelia smiled, and without releasing Klaia's hand, yanked her towards the adults moving slowly towards the main castle doors.

"Now I'm cold! Let's go inside."

Klaia let out a laugh and let herself be dragged into Dawnton, the large oaken doors clasping shut behind them. Amithelia glanced upwards at the glittering main hall of Dawnton, mouth slightly parted.

"I've never seen anything like it," she breathed.

"Amithelia I have to show you everything then!" Klaia whispered excitedly.

Amithelia turned from where she was gazing at the crystals hanging from the roof, "I'd like that."

Klaia bounced excitedly, and started to move towards the left stairwell before she felt a hand grasp at her wrist. She turned quickly back towards Amithelia.

"If we're going to be friends, call me Ami, it's what everyone does."

Klaia gave one sharp nod, before extending her hand once more, "It's nice to meet you Ami."