As the first rays of dawn gently kissed the delicate petals of the roses outside her window, Ona stirred from her slumber. With a soft sigh, she opened her eyes, greeted by the gentle glow of the morning sun filtering through the lace curtains of her chamber. Today was the day she had dreamt of since she was a little girl—the day she would become a bride.
With a mixture of excitement and nervous anticipation, Ona rose from her bed, the silk of her panther-skin robe rustling softly with her movements. She cast a glance at the ornate mirror, where her reflection smiled back at her, adorned with the intricate jewels and pearls that adorned her bridal attire.
As she stepped onto the balcony, the scent of blooming flowers filled the air, and the distant sound of birdsong carried on the breeze. Below, the palace grounds bustled with activity as preparations for the grand convoy to Idollo were underway.
At the break of dawn, the Queen dispatched a message summoning for a bath to be prepared, accompanied by specific instructions for the meticulous care of Ona, the lady in question. Under the directive, every attendant spared no effort in lavishing attention upon her, meticulously scrubbing and perfuming every inch of her skin. Not a single stray hair was overlooked, each one diligently removed until her body was flawlessly smooth, except for the area between her thighs, where her natural hair was left untouched. Following this, Ona's skin was meticulously lotioned and oiled until it shimmered like polished ebony under the sun's rays.
Servant girls, with soft footsteps and hushed whispers, scurried into the princess's chambers, their hands laden with silken robes and shimmering jewels. With practiced grace, they fluttered around the room like butterflies, attending to every detail in preparation for the grand event.
The intricate styling of Ona's long, black hair was meticulously executed, blending elements of both Ajari and Idollo techniques. Adorned with a delicate coronet of braids encircling her brow, a ribbon intricately woven through the plaits, her hair was a testament to the skilled hands that fashioned it. The remainder of her locks flowed freely, cascading down her back in a luxuriant cascade of curls.
Amidst the flurry of activity, laughter bubbled and excitement hung in the air, as they adorned the princess in her bridal attire, weaving delicate flowers into her hair and draping her in layers of thin and fair panther skin. With each gentle touch and whispered word of encouragement, they transformed the princess into a vision of radiant beauty, ready to embark on the journey of matrimony.
After countless hours of meticulous beautification, Ona was ceremoniously escorted towards the majestic grand limestone stairs.
Ona stood tall, her presence commanding attention with every graceful movement. Her skin, the rich hue of warm earth, glowed under the golden sun, adorned with intricate patterns of traditional markings that spoke of her lineage and heritage. Her eyes, like the ocean blue, seemingly held a wisdom beyond her years, sparkling with quiet strength. The high priest who had dedicated her to the gods at infancy, invoking the ancient rites and channeling the spirits of their revered ancestors, had proclaimed her the reincarnated Nalini, a legendary queen whose legacy echoed across centuries. Cascading curls of ebony framed her face, kissed by the breeze as if in homage to her natural beauty. Dressed in vibrant robes woven with threads of gold and jewels that caught the light, she moved with the regal elegance of a lioness, embodying the spirit of her land and the majesty of her people.
As Ona descended the grand staircase of the grand palace, her robes trailing behind her like a river of moonlight, every eye in the hall turned to behold her ethereal beauty, bathed in the soft glow of morning light. Her steps were measured, yet filled with a quiet confidence befitting her royal lineage.
As she reached the bottom of the staircase, the murmurs of awe swelled into a symphony of admiration. The guests, gathered to witness and accompany her convoy, were captivated by her grace.
At the threshold, the princess paused, turning to face her parents, the king and queen, who stood with bittersweet smiles, pride and sorrow intertwined in their gaze. With tears glistening in their eyes, they embraced their daughter, wishing her love, happiness, and a future as bright as the dawn.
The royal convoy emerged from the towering gates of the palace, a procession of opulence and grandeur befitting the occasion. Mounted knights, resplendent in gleaming armor, led the way with banners fluttering proudly in the breeze. Carriages adorned with intricate carvings and gilded accents followed in their wake, each drawn by majestic steeds whose hooves echoed with the rhythm of anticipation.
At the heart of the convoy, a carriage of unparalleled splendor carried Ona, her presence radiant against the rich tapestry of silk and velvet that enveloped her.
The air was filled with the sound of flutes and drums, announcing the departure of the princess to her new home. Crowds gathered along the streets, their voices rising in joyful celebration, as petals rained down like blessings upon the convoy.
With each passing moment, the distance between the palace and the future grew shorter, yet the weight of tradition and destiny hung heavy in the air. And as the convoy disappeared into the horizon, it carried with it the hopes and dreams of two kingdoms united in the bonds of matrimony.
As the carriage rumbled along the winding road, Ona and her maid engaged in a quiet conversation, their voices a soothing melody amidst the rhythmic clatter of hooves.
"Do you remember the first time we met, Maka? You were just a girl, and I was but a child myself."
"Indeed, Your Highness. It feels like a lifetime ago. You've grown into such a remarkable woman since then."
"And you've been by my side through it all. Much like a sister I never had. I am grateful for your unwavering loyalty, Maka."
Maka fought tears. "It has been my honor, Your Highness. To serve you is the greatest privilege."
"Tell me, Maka, what do you think awaits me in this new kingdom? Do you believe I am ready for the responsibilities that await?"
"Without a doubt, Your Highness. Your strength and wisdom surpass those of many twice your age. I have faith in your grace and resilience."
"Thank you, Maka. Your words give me courage."
The captain of the guards stood tall and commanding at the front of the carriage, his voice ringing out with authority over the rumble of the wheels and the clip-clop of hooves, interrupted the young women's conversation.
"Attention all! We have just entered the Njo forests. These woods are infamous for harboring bandits and unspeakable evils. Stay vigilant and keep your weapons at the ready. Our safety depends on the strength of our unity and the sharpness of our wits. Together, we shall navigate these dark woods and emerge victorious on the other side. May courage guide our hearts and valor steel our resolve!"
The other soldiers, their expressions solemn yet resolute, echoed their agreement with a resounding clash of their shields, the sound reverberating through the forest like a thunderous proclamation of unity and determination.
With a resolute nod, the captain signaled to his guards, instilling a sense of determination among the travelers. As the carriage pressed forward into the shadowy depths of the forest, each member of the convoy braced themselves for the challenges that lay ahead, their spirits bolstered by the captain's unwavering leadership.