[IC] Princess-Champions of Hyperborea

[Raz_Fox]

Adila!

Hmm. The House seems... well, like it’s being used as a holding pen for some very dangerous princesses, honestly. There’s an incognito Watchwoman at the cafe on the other side of the street, and you’d bet your best tube of lipstick that there’s at least two more keeping an eye on the other exits. They wouldn’t be able to stop the princesses, should they choose to leave, but they can at least tail them and make life a little tricky for them.

Windows are closed, and the House of Guests is booming in comparison; if the old H-oh-H is royal prowling grounds, the rest of us had better cough up some money, or so popular thought goes. Then, when they inevitably get in some flashy magical duel, you won’t miss any of your sleep or otherwise be distressed by their shenanigans.

Still, there’s some staff that’s always here, a close knit community more like a family than anything else: old Mayzie works the kitchen, the Sheela sisters help direct the cleaning, and “Rocky” Maud serves as the door-warden.

When she sees you, Adila, Maud sucks air through her teeth. “Welcome back,” she says, with a melancholy smile. “Come to visit, Addie?” Now, here’s the thing: you’ve known Maud basically for ever. She used to sneak you snacks while you both were on duty! But that means she knows as well as you do that you don’t fit very well inside the House of Hospitality.

You’re going to have to... shrink. Down to person size. That’s the only way to avoid trampling flowers and knocking over antiques and generally being a menace in there. And that just means if you lose your head, you’ll break things even worse.

Ready to do the changey thing? Right in front of Kazelia, even?

***

Kazelia!

Inside, the House of Hospitality is cozy and homey. The air is cool against your skin, and smells faintly of spices, baked bread, and furniture polish. The light is faint, filtering through half-blocked windows, and somewhere a harp is being played, the kind that makes a princess want to sit a while and just listen. It almost lets you ignore the vague feeling of unease tickling up and down your spine.

And over here, in a side room just off the atrium, are the first two princesses you’ll meet today. One’s tall and blonde and vaguely melancholy-looking, with horse motifs worked into her blouse and her belt and her cloak-clasp; the other is slender and dark, covered in veils and jewels and silver, and beams excitedly when she sees the two of you.

“Adila!” she cries, waving you over with a bangle-bedecked arm. “Thank Ourania you’re here. You wouldn’t believe what a time of it we’ve had!”

“The Heart’s as good as found, now,” the blonde says, faintly, but with absolute confidence. She keeps her eyes down on the chess board that sits between her and her exuberant friend.

“I don’t think we’ve met,” the beaming princess says, offering her hand to you. “I’m Tashanna, and please, allow me to formally welcome you to Jedad.” It would be hard to feel more welcomed if you were hit with a giant stamp that said WELCOMED on it in block letters. “And you must be one of Oberon’s children, right?”

The way she says his name... she can’t have met him. Nobody who knows your father would say his name like that, like they’re excited to know him. Not if they knew the man who you had, arguably, seen just this very same day.

***

Adila!

PROFILE: Princess Helya of Rowan

• Has an impossible 100% win rate at Find the Queen. Current theories on how include “impossibly lucky,” “cheats outrageously,” “cheats but only when we try to cheat first by using three Handmaidens,” “is secretly the best illusionist in Hyperborea,” and, perhaps best supported by evidence, “pathologically incapable of losing a challenge.”
• Underneath that placid, chivalrous exterior is a calm, well-mannered princess who will under no circumstances turn down a challenge, will under no circumstances fold, and will under no circumstances say “maybe we’re taking this too seriously and should de-escalate the situation.”
  She once bet her crown on a game of chess. Like, her status as a princess and everything. And she calmly smiled and didn’t raise her voice at all and told her opponent GG after a blitzkrieg of moves that made them lose in twenty minutes flat.
• And the maddening thing is that if you don’t challenge her, she’ll have a gentle vacation here and cause no trouble at all. She’s so nice. Just under no circumstances let someone challenge her to see who can climb the Clocktower fastest because she will blink and smile affectionately and then clamber up it like a bat on a sugar rush.

PROFILE: Princess Tashanna of Jedad

• Tashanna was, much like the Princess Adjutants of Ilumina, raised to support her older sister Shazari upon her assumption to the throne, as well as being prepared to take the throne in case the unthinkable happened first. She ended up taking to diplomatic training like a fish to water; she’s sweet as honey, painfully generous and a natural philanthropist, can slow dance a fox into flustered surrender, and somehow makes most people walk away feeling like Jedad’s a perfect ally for any and all of their needs.
• Officially, very officially, she doesn’t have a criminal record at all. And for 99% of her life that’s actually the truth and nothing but the truth! But mysteriously, if you were to bring up stories of “Tashii the Very, Very Scary,” whose short but dastardly reign of terror alongside Elsaria the Dread had the Watch helpless to stop her before her inexplicable disappearance, she’d go red as a tomato behind that veil, bleat like a sheep, and fall out of her chair, in exactly that order. But why would you ever want to do that?

***

Rhyza!

When the princess removes the other end of the scarf from your hand, you have to will your fingers to let go; in happier circumstances, you would have made her bat those lovely eyes and beg for its return. But that would be winning, and we are not to be winning, Rhyza, no we are not. We are to be a good person, and—

Arm. There is. Arm. Princess. Arm. Wrapped. Hello. The clash between “pull her closer” and “don’t enjoy this” near paralyzes you for a moment. Your heart goes at speeds usually reserved for hunting dogs. She asks you, looking at you so weak and innocent and tempting, where you recommend to eat.

This is tricky, because you have to take her somewhere where there is absolutely no chance you’ll run into an ex. This complicates the question considerably. Can’t be the kebab place down near Salt Street, Suzi’s working the counter. Can’t be the Felorian place up on the third floor of the Dawn Tower, Ely’s a waitress there. Megathe’s dancing at both “The Dragon’s Leg” and the Serpent Cafe, depending on the day. And you can’t take her to an Iluminan place at all, even one of the fancier ones where the waitresses are fully clothed, because then she’ll think about the home she lost and you can’t bear to see those frail little shoulders droop and those lovely eyes tear up again.

...you’re stroking your fingers against her palm. Stop that. You’re a terrible person.

Where were we? Right. Maybe... there’s this one hummus place with a bit of Askaian flair that she might enjoy. You might even have to help her lift her veil to stop it from getting smeared with hummus. Yes. This is a good plan.

“Follow me,” you say, sternly, like she couldn’t lift her legs off the ground and be carried along, if she wanted to. “I know a place.” There. Cool, composed, professional, not wanting to make a princess squeal. The perfect performance.

And then she starts complimenting you. Oh dear.

“It was nothing.” Too brusque! “I just don’t like it when I can’t help the people I care about.” Good. Good. Keep talking. “And you were much better at being a prisoner. You had the helpless struggling and squirming and...” WHAT NO WHY WOULD YOU SAY THAT. Do not let her see your face, it’ll ruin the cool reputation you’re trying to build!

“...do you like our food?” There. Better. Safer. Less likely to go in terrible, terrible directions.