The Beauty of Courage

~ Thirty Three ~

The morning of the balls dawns brightly, birds chirping in the air and wispy white clouds floating across a azure sky. Sophia sits by the window, her forehead leaning against the cool glass, eyes half closed, eyelashes brushing her cheeks with each tiny flutter. In her arms lies her son, finally asleep after being up in the early morning before the sun deigned to make an appearance. Indeed the sun most likely refrained from making an appearance until the little one had finished his upset. It is unlikely that anyone in the ear vicinity could have fallen asleep at their post for the lungs on the future King are strong and forceful.

A bird lands on the window sill and sings its heart out upsetting Dax, who similar to the prince has only just gotten some shut eye. He gruffly growls, eyeing the bird with contempt, startling it away just as Sophia opens her eyes. She softly shakes her head at Dax and softly murmurs, "Did you not wish to hear a morning song?". Dax lays his head back down between his paws and looks balefully at her. With great care Sophia stands and places her son in his bassinet. When he remains asleep she goes to her dressing table and sits down. Dax follows and lays his weight at her feet.

She picks up a comb and begins to brush out her hair until it shines. One of the speechless maids enters without knocking, a rule implemented for the sanity of those without sleep. She walks over and places her hands on Sophia's shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze. Their eyes meet in the mirror and Sophia nods. "Today is the day. However I would prefer to not look as if I have not slept in a week. You have your work cut out for you."

The maid sets to work, laying out the powders on the table before turning her attention to Sophia's face. Sophia closes her eyes and finds herself falling asleep as gentle fingers dab brightness onto her skin and colour into her cheeks. She is unaware when the wet nurse enters and takes the young prince with her and she only wakes when she feels a firm squeeze on her shoulder.

• ● ○ ◊ ▪ ◊ ○ ● •

Isaiah adjusts his jacket and turns to glare at Navi. "I feel like a peacock."

"And you look like one too," Navi agrees with a humorous smile. Out of the two of them he looks much more at ease. Isaiah's brows draw together and he once again adjusts the deep blue jacket, shrugging his shoulders ill at ease. "Stop doing that. You're drawing attention to yourself, something I thought you were against."

"I am not the one in a green brocade jacket. I thought you were getting us black jackets for this evening so we could blend into the background."

"You are about to become a foreign King's advisor. He should at least see you as something that can fit in and blend into the background at the same time. Regardless we are attending a royal ball as invited guests and not as servants. We must dress appropriately." Navi grins as a girl catches his eye. "In fact I look good in green so it does no harm for me.... perhaps the blue is too much for you."

Isaiah suddenly stands tall and it is as if he regained his earlier roll of a confident leader. "Enough. Sophia should be making her entrance soon. What if this does not go as she planned? What if they are cruel to her?"

"She has withstood cruelty already. She can stand it again. But I believe that this will empower her. Look around, even the dead King would have been astounded at this ball. It is elegant yet a show of wealth and power. Every single candle is lit, the chandelier is magnificent, the table for dinner is picture perfect and the musicians have the finest instruments I have ever encountered. Everyone looks happy and privileged to be here. I never saw such a room as this when they feared him."

The laughter and chatter around the room dies down as the announcer steps onto a podium. The guards stand ready at the doors at the top of the stairs. Navi glances at Isaiah to see that he has lost all expression and he stands like a statue, fists clenched at his sides ready and able to defend if he must.