We were lifted from our cradles and placed on a soft carpet. Now that I looked around, I realized the entire room was covered with it—was it just for us? I assumed so. The texture was surprisingly nice beneath my tiny hands; I guess even babies get royal treatment here.
Our parents stood still, waiting for something. Their faces were unreadable, but I could sense a mixture of anticipation and... was that nervousness?
"Let's go to Dad," Elanor said with glee, and without hesitation, we followed her lead. Crawling up the carpeted steps, we reached the thrones, our parents' eyes tracking us the entire way.
Without much thought, we clambered onto our father. He stayed still as a statue, even as we pulled and climbed over him. Elanor made it all the way up to his neck—quite impressive, actually. I ended up sitting on his lap with Iris. We didn't have much stamina; climbing his legs had been exhausting.
"Phew," I muttered, catching my breath. "He's like a mountain."
"More like a giant tree," Iris replied, giggling as she held onto his arm for balance.
Then I met her eyes. She had been watching me eagerly from the start, her gaze dripping with warmth. My mother. I had a mother—no, five mothers—a father, and four sisters. I wanted to treasure this family. There was something about the way she looked at me that made my heart feel full.
So, I did what any child would do: I raised my hands toward her. I had always wanted to do that. Her eyes brightened instantly, and she moved forward to scoop me up, her touch gentle and familiar. But before she could hold me completely, a voice cut through the air.
"Consort Petunia, the child has chosen the path of the crown. You can't do that," the old man said, still smiling. I really didn't like him. There was something unsettling about how calm he was as he denied me my mother's embrace.
"Cardinal, she has already chosen, meaning the decision is made. I can hold my child now." My mother's voice was firm; she wasn't one to be trifled with. The look in her eyes was enough to freeze anyone in their tracks.
The king finally spoke, his voice deep and commanding, "Consort, bring her back."
There was a flash of hurt in my mother's eyes, a look so brief that I almost thought I'd imagined it. Was my dad really as good as Elanor said? He didn't seem like the kind of person to dismiss us like that.
My sisters exchanged worried glances. Though reluctant, my mother put me back. Surprisingly, the other consorts consoled her, and it seemed genuine. That was a little strange; I thought there would be more rivalry.
"Make haste. Bring the magician here," Father ordered.
"Yes, Your Majesty."
A young man with glasses stumbled in, bowing deeply. "I pay reverence to the light of the stars. May Cassiopeia forever grace us."
"Forgo formalities. Take the magic imagery," the king replied.
"Yes, yes, right away, Your Majesty," the young man stammered. He was nervous and sounded like a parrot. It was a little amusing.
"Wow, that's Archmage Melbus," Dorothy squealed like a fan.
"Who?" I whispered to Iris, not recognizing the name.
"He's the one who gave the plausibility constraint theory," she replied, as if I should know what that meant. "Remember Chapter 6?" (Oops!)
Ohh, right I remember now.
Before we knew it, Dorothy slipped out of Father's arms and crawled toward Melbus. She had learned that from me—I was sure of it. She even made the same gesture I did, asking to be picked up.
"Pri—Princess, no, I—how could I? Oh, the stars!" Melbus panicked, throwing himself to the floor and banging his head on the carpet. "Your Majesty, forgive me. I have sinned."
Thank goodness there was carpet. Dorothy merely patted his hair and giggled, oblivious to the chaos she had caused. Father's eyes twinkled with amusement. "Rise," he said.
"Yes, yes, Your Majesty." I felt a little sorry for the poor man.
"You shall become the royal magician of Cassidoria."
"Yes, Your Majesty. What?" he exclaimed, his eyes wide with surprise before quickly correcting himself. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. Thank you, thank you for your grace." He was about to kneel again.
"Just make the imagery," Father waved his hand dismissively.
Melbus began weaving spells, still jittery. He seemed quite happy now, though. I couldn't make heads or tails of this situation, and the swirling lights and patterns he conjured only made me more confused.
Meanwhile, Dorothy was brought back to Father's side.
"Good job. We have an Archmage in our country now," Elanor remarked with a hint of pride.
I glanced at my sisters. "Anyone need an explanation? Because I certainly did."
Elanor sensed my confusion and finally spoke up. "The blessing ceremony begins with children choosing either their mother or father. This choice basically determines their future."
"Wait, what happens if someone doesn't want to follow the path they chose?" I asked, frowning. That seemed like a huge decision to make for a baby.
"They can opt out, but unless they excel in the path they pick, they'll likely be boycotted," she explained matter-of-factly.
"That's a little messed up," I whispered to Iris, who nodded in agreement.
"After that, they receive the blessing and return home. But for us, it's different. We have to make two more choices," Elanor continued.
"Oh? What's the second choice?" I asked, my curiosity growing.
"The second choice is our entourage. I chose Archmage Melbus. Stars, I'm so lucky to meet him. Ofcourse he's not an archmage yet.," Dorothy chimed in, clearly excited. "After the imagery is finished, we would typically be led to a place with our potential entourage candidates, but I skipped a few steps."
Iris raised an eyebrow. "Skipped a few steps? Isn't that… kind of against the rules?"
Dorothy shrugged, grinning mischievously. "Rules are flexible for princesses, remember?"
"I see," I nodded slowly. There was definitely a lot more to being a royal than I'd thought.
"And the third choice?" I pressed on.
"Later," Elanor said, cutting me off. "Look up now; we're taking a picture." She glanced forward, directing our attention to Melbus, who was now adjusting a shimmering orb above us.
Click.
The orb flashed with a soft light, and I blinked away the bright spots dancing in my vision.
"Consorts may hold the princesses now," the king announced, his voice echoing through the hall.
Maybe Dad wasn't so bad after all—he just couldn't skip the formalities. I caught his eye and he gave me a small nod, as if to say, "This is how things are."
Mother swept me up into her arms, and this time, no one stopped her. I rested my head on her shoulder, letting out a sigh. I didn't understand everything that had happened today, but one thing was clear: my family was complicated. And I was just beginning to unravel the mysteries surrounding us.
But that was fine. I had time. After all, I am only six month old.