"How exactly did mom die?"
Matteus set down his cup, the tea inside now frozen from his sudden burst of anger. It was still as fresh as the day he found out about her murder. If anything it had evolved; the anger grew bitter due to lack of any successful progress in the investigation that had been disbanded years ago.
What a funny thing the mind was. Although Matteus had given up on ever finding the person who killed Adaline the resentments of guilt still lingered. As usuless as it has ever been.
"Why do you ask now?"
"At first I thought it would be better if I didn't bring it up. You always get so sad when we talk about her. I guess I'm just curious."
"She was murdered not long after you were born."
"...by who?"
"That I do not know, not matter how much I wish I did."
Somewhere in the weighted quiet Matteus found the strength to look at his son. His purple eyes held a glazed over quality that he didn't like.
"Talk to me."
It was a desperate plea for his son to not do what he had done. He didn't want Azra to shut himself away from him, as hypocritical as that may seem.
"I didn't know her the way you did, all I have left of her is a portrait and memories you tell me of. I wish I knew her well enough to mourn her properly."
"Despite knowing so little, do you love her?"
"I like the tea she used to drink, the flowers she used to watch for hours on end and I like the stories you tell me about her. I cannot help but love her."
"Then that is enough."
The two basked in the afternoon glow of the sun as they sat on a terrace overlooking the gardens. Matteus waited for a maid to exchange the frozen liquid with a fresh steaming cup before talking.
"This is the calm before the storm. Your debutante is tomorrow and despite all your worries it will come and go in mere moments. If there is anything you do not understand I will be right there with you, so will Anna."
Azra's shoulders relaxed at the words.
"I think I'll retire early today. Tomorrow will be busy."
"Yes, and I would appreciate it if you went straight to bed instead of spending half the night hiding away in your library before you get any proper rest."
Azra gave a guilty smile before scurrying from the scene to avoid any further lecturing.
- - -
Azra groaned, his father was right about yesterday being the calm before the storm.
He awoke to an army of maids who promptly threw the covers off of him and ripped him away from the soft silk of Layla's fur with a surprising amount of strength.
He was then forced into a steaming bath scented with flowers and mints. The water left his skin glowing with a pinkish tint.
He was poked and prodded as his nails were trimmed, hair cut and styled and one of his debutante outfits placed on him carefully.
Azra was already used to being dressed, but this level of attention was dizzying even for him.
The maids looked at him with their eyes shining in satisfaction. They said nothing as they left but from the threatening look in their eyes Azra knew that if he so much as put a wrinkle on the pristine white pants he would face even more fussing over.
Now all he could do was wait. The debutante was a celebration that would be hosted throughout the entire day. Serving multiple meals and various forms of entertainment to keep the guests from falling into boredom.
He himself was set to make three appearance. One in the morning to present himself for breakfast, one again at noon to socialize and last in the evening where he would lead the final dance for the newest members of society.
Azra could only pray that he would see Cal and Quen throughout the day. Though he had taken many lessons in socializing as the Prince, it was far different from putting it into practice.
Time seemed to speed up and slow down all at once and before he knew it he was standing next to his father dressed similarly to him. They were both ready to enter the main ballroom where most of the debutante would take place.
One steady look of reassurance from his father was all he got before the doors were opened for them as they walked out to a balcony overlooking the crowds of curious people.
Outside the large ornate doors, the crowds stood in silence. One young woman in particular was waiting.
Isabelle stood at the very front of the crowd, constantly running her well manicured hands against her pastel pink dress to ward off any wrinkles. It went perfectly with her skin tone and made her emerald green eyes stand out brightly.
Her bright auburn hair was done into voluminous waves, so different from how it usually lay pin straight against her back.
She spent hours in front of her mirror during the process, making sure that when the Prince's eyes landed on her, she was nothing less than portrait ready.
Not that her mother would allow anything but perfection.
She barely flinched at the heated gaze slithering over her as if searching for any impurities in a diamond. Isabelle was far too used to it to show any outward reaction. Hopefully since they were surrounded by many others, she would keep the nagging to a minimum.
"Presenting His Majesty King Matteus Alistair Alfonsi and His Royal Highness Crowned Prince Azra Caspian Alfonsi."
Isabelle's eyes were trained on the prince who had remained hidden from society. How could she not be curious?
He was beautiful, not in a masculine or feminine sense. Azra held a face that one could watch until their eyes water and then insist on gazing at it even more.
Not that his looks mattered. She would have pretended to like him even if his head only came up to her breasts and he had a belly old noble drunkards sported. After all, with his status, trivial things like the outward image fell to the wayside.
He could make her a princess. No, he would make her a princess. Isabelle was sure of it.
Unaware of the girl's ambition Azra forced himself not to shuffle awkwardly under the heavy weight of more than two hundred pairs of eyes. In the back of his mind he could vaguely hear his father addressing the crowd.
I'm supposed to say something next. What was it again? Come on I practiced this. For my brain to go completely empty at such a time...
A heavy hand settled itself on his shoulder, quickly shocking him out of his spiraling thoughts.
Clearing his throat and lifting his head high Azra spoke in a calm breezy tone that surprised him.
"I'd like to thank all of you for your attendance. This debutante is not only mine but also the young budding adults. I'd like to see the new age of Alfonsi together with you. Won't you accompany me?"
He ended his question with a smile that made his eyes shape into crescent moons. An approving murmur ran through the group as they felt the young man's charm wash over them at full force.
At the clearly positive response, Azra relaxed further.
"The entire day is planned for your enjoyment but for now, shall we eat?"
As if on cue an army of servants entered through hidden service doors, lining up before tables with steaming plates of food floating steadily before them.
"The people won't touch anything until we fill our plates first. Come."
Moving to a table at the center of the marbled floor they both took a seat and were immediately served their preferred items. The staff knew it by heart now.
This was undoubtably the easiest part of the debutante for Azra. The breakfast portion wasn't presented with the intention to socialize. It was here that people would share good food and find comfort in eating together.
Only whispered conversations and pleasant smiles would be exchanged as it was considered impolite to behave in an energetic way during morning meals.
Despite the fact that he wouldn't get to speak to them yet Azra still looked around the lines of people picking foods from the open tables or being waited on.
"Looking for someone?"
Azra glanced at his father before answering.
"I don't see Callum or Quentin."
"I made sure they both received an invitation."
Quentin, he wasn't surprised he didn't spot. He often didn't like crowds and preferred to stick to dark corners. Callum though, he was hard to miss with his pink hair and hyper personality.
Where could they be?