[Norien's Point of View]
I despise having diplomatic matters as any royal would, but I have no choice but to participate. My name, is Norien Ravenhan, daughter of King Nosos Ravenhan, and sister of Noran Ravenhan, who is the heir to the throne of Northrest. Today is a special day, for me, and my family. My brother is to be wed with the Ballister daughter, Orelia, who is the son of the Ballister King Orastor.
"Norien, my dear daughter, why don't you help me with your brother's clothes? He is so out of touch with trends recently!" my mother, Queen Consort Odelia Ravenhan, exclaimed. I nod my head and follow her across the lively lit hallways, each wall filled with paintings depicting our family legacy, which I have always been interested about.
My eyes wander on the painting that was of our oldest ancestor, Nostan Ravenhan, who was born a noble, and served King Orevon Ballister during his last few years as king. As King Oreon Ballister, Orevon Ballister's heir, brought chaos to the lands, our ancestor knew he had to act.
According to the tales of old, he would poison the young king, bringing an end to his short reign. Nostan would then come to rebel against the king's son, Orelius Ballister, in The Great Rampage. Nostan Ravenhan would die heroically in the battle, yet his legacy lived on.
I gaze at the next painting, which showed one of our ancestors standing beside Strix royal families. Nostan's son, Noreul Ravenhan, would take his father's place as royal advisor, serving the new royal family of House Strix.
In those 15 years of Strix rule, our family remained loyal to the king. According to legend, two Ballister children survived The Great Rampage, and they were raised by a lonely merchant. As they grew, they reconquered the kingdom, and killed the king, Forlan Strix, at a great duel atop the mountains of Nortenhein. Ever since then, our family became nothing but a minor house in the eyes of many.
Again, I pass another painting. This time, it is of a man, kneeling down to a king, a Ballister king, whilst lifting his hand towards him, which bled, signifying a blood alliance that would last forever. This was, of course, a painting of Noreul's brother, Noraian Ravenhan.
Noreul would disappear mysteriously one snowy night, and in his place came his brother, Noraian Ravenhan, who would be known in our family as The Thankful One. Noraian would pledge his loyalty to the new Ballister king, Orevion.
After Noraian's blood pact to House Ballister, our family was given land south of the Nortenhein Mountains, which would become the kingdom of Northrest. Our family has been loyal to the Ballisters for centuries, even now, we are allies of the great house.
"S-sister! I need your help..." my brother exclaimed, running towards me, his undergarments revealed, pants left hanging at his ankles.
I cover my eyes swiftly using my fan. "Pants, brother." I reply.
Noran looks down, ashamed. He pulls his grand yellow leggings up until it reached his waist. "Sorry, sister. L-look, I need your opinion on this..." he says as he struggles to walk towards his closet.
"Seriously, brother? You're the heir to the throne and you can't even dress yourself up!" I exclaim.
He pulls out two mantles, the first having a red and white checker pattern, decorated nicely with rubies. The second one on the other hand had a more complex design featuring blue, black, and white lining decorated with gold knitting. I put my finger to the tip of my lips, and pretend to think. "The right one suits you best, brother. In addition, it is the color of our family after all." I said to him.
He leaps in pure joy like a child. "I-I will thank you later by giving you the best meat during the feast with King Orastor Ballister. Wish me luck; meeting the bride isn't much of a stress, but the father!? I-I'd rather be dead! T-thanks again, Norien!" He closes the door swiftly with a loud BANG, which disturbs some of the maids working in the hallway, who stare at me with disapproving looks.
Is this really what has become of our house? A grown-up man who can't even match a mantle with his pants? I can't imagine the looks of our ancestors looking down on us right at this moment... then again, they never really seemed the type to be independent in the first place.
Mother always admired our ancestors, saying they are wise, but when I look at them, the only thing I see are some men who can't live on their own. Every single Ravenhan has always been a puppet to a greater house. Our family is enslaved because they are weak and dependent, and they don't even know it!
I scoff at the painting of our ancestor, Noraian Ravenhan. Look at him, kneeling down to the king, his hand raised in loyalty. He couldn't even care for his own house, he had to burden the Ballisters with that duty, unbelievable. I walk towards the dining room, where our Ballister guests will arrive tomorrow at morning.
"Norien! Norien!" my father exclaimed as he swiftly came to me.
"Father, what is it?" I ask.
"Is your brother ready for tomorrow's event?" he asks, sweating nervously, fidgeting his hands and touching his golden ring.
"He should be. But please, next time show him how to take care of himself or the guests will make fools of my brother."
"What do you mean?" my father asks, his brows knitted and his eyes tweaking.
I pause, cross my arms, look him and the eyes and say-- "Noran is 25 years old and he's the heir to the throne yet he can't even dress himself accordingly! What makes you think he can rule the kingdom or even raise a family? He's like our ancestors, those men that mother praises—helpless and dependent on others to survive!".
My father pauses shortly, his eyes blank, and probably his mind, too. Finally, he speaks. "What would you have me do, Norien? Curse our ancestors? Rebel against the Ballisters and have our house decimated!? Are YOU as mad and crazy as King Oreon was? We are here, alive and well because of them!" he says, pointing towards the nearest painting.
"I have nothing against the Ballisters, in fact, I thank them. But this..." I reply, my feet shuffling towards the painting of Noraian Ravenhan. "...This is embarrassing! Our house has never learned how to be independent, whether that comes in ruling a kingdom or even living life!" I exclaim loudly.
"You are ungrateful!" my father exclaims, pointing at me. "You should be more like your brother, mature and industrious--"
"Mature!? You call my brother mature when he can't even change clothes without my opinions on his fashion? Look at our history! Isn't it peculiar that it's filled with nothing but the history of other houses instead!?" I retorted, slamming my hand unto a small table.
My father looks at me with disgust and disbelief. He points his hand at me and exclaims-- "I do not know what is wrong with you, young lady. Move to your quarters! You are not to attend the feast unless ordered to as to not embarrass our family!"
I argue no further, and leave my father's presence. I wander the halls, which are filled with decorated walls, lanterns, the occasional maid sweeping up the floor, and the scent of beeswax from the candles my mother lights. No matter how foolish and naive my mother is, she does know how to make a house smell like home.
I find my quarters. As I enter the room through the white wooden doors, I am greeted with a small round table and my right-hand side. My bed looked soft as usual, with its white covers inviting me for a soft nap. The one window to my room lets in sunlight, but not too much, and my closet is open, revealing my wardrobe, filled with dresses.
"Brother never would've had this kind of room, he's never tidy" I say to myself.
I lay on my bed, flat on my back. My father's words echo in my head, but I decide to block them out. I wonder what the Ballister king is going to be like... I have never seen him before. I heard he has his son to accompany him, perhaps he might have better attitude than my brother.
I close my eyes to sleep, until a knock on the door disturbs my peaceful time laying down. It was my brother... great.
"What do you want, Noran?" I ask.
"I'm sorry, sister. I'd like to apologize." he replied.
I rise up from my bed and look him in the eyes. "Apologize for what?"
"For always being on your tail. Something about what you said to me earlier had me thinking about myself... you know, changing me for the better." He replied.
"It's..." I think about my words carefully; as much as I despise my brother, I still love him as one. "...fine. Just, try to be more... mature, please. You're about to be wed to a beautiful woman. Imagine what she'll say when she realizes you can't even dress up right." I say to him.
He chuckles for a bit and takes something from his pocket and tosses it to me.
"What's this?" I ask.
"Something to compensate for your time, sister."
I open the small box, careful not to make a mess. As I opened it, my eyes widen with shock. Two earrings, each one having a small diamond hanging off of each one. "Where did you—How –"
"I bought it with my own money yesterday. I thought I'd thank you for all this time. I promise I will become a better person someday, Norien. Who knows, maybe I'll have a painting like one of our ancestors hung up on our hallway?" he says with a chuckle. He greets me farewell and closes the door.
I admire the earrings, looking at their every detail. Perhaps this family is not doomed after all. One thing is for sure, Noran is maturing—finally. I may not have the most mature and gentleman-like brother in the world, but at least I can teach him to be one.
I still despise our ancestors for their actions, but as I look at Noraian Ravenhan's painting hanging in the hallway and my brother walking down the halls, I see things from a new perspective. Maybe it is time for a change in this family, starting with me, and my brother. From now on, our family will no longer be dependent on other houses when it comes to ruling their kingdom.
Of course, we will still be loyal to the Ballisters and the Strix as allies; however, we shall no longer be puppets controlled by them, but merely friends and brothers (and sisters, of course) at blood. Because if there is one thing that I am sure of, it is that a Ravenhan never forgets to give what he receives.
As for my father and mother, the only thing I can do is hope that they will one day see their errors and change their minds on our ancestors and our family's awful habits of dependency, but that is for another day. Perhaps when the family changes, so will they...
My hopes for this family just got higher, I pray my hope is not in the wrong place...