For the staff employed by the Royal Family, the days leading up to the signing of the treaty were long and tedious. The official ceremony, complete with press presence, was to take place in the Citadel that housed the Crystal that was guarded by the line of Lucis. The place had to be spotless and orderly, positively shining with radiance. For Noelle Valencia, this was to be done on top of countless hours spent in the kitchen with the cook, pouring over the list of lavish dishes to be served the guests of honor: Emperor Idola Aldercapt.
The young woman glanced at her reflection in the mirror, smoothing the flyaway hairs that refused to be tamed into submission. Although she would not personally be appearing on camera, King Regis undoubtedly expected the staff serving their esteemed guests to look impeccable. Satisfied with her appearance, Noelle slipped her feet into the black high heeled pumps waiting for her by the door.
"I'm leaving!" she called.
A middle aged woman bustled into the entryway, wiping her hands on the apron tied about her waist. She looked Noelle up and down appraisingly, taking in the black and white uniform assigned by King Regis, the softly curling hair clipped away from her face which was full of uncertainty. The woman smiled reassuringly at her daughter. "You look beautiful. Be careful on your way to the Citadel, and have a good time tonight. Make sure that you call to check in when you get a chance, all right?"
"I will," Noelle assured her mother. "I don't know how long I'll be gone tonight, so you don't have to wait up for me."
"I know I don't have to, but I'm going to."
Mother and daughter exchanged a smile and hugged goodbye.
"I'll be home as soon as I can," Noelle said as she stepped out of the door, closing it behind her.
She strode calmly down the sidewalk, her heels clicking nicely on the pavement, a feeling of foreboding following at her heels. Her brown, almond shaped eyes were glassy and faraway. Having tread this path many times before, she could navigate her way to the Citadel without having to worry about missing her turn, which she automatically took as her thoughts strayed to the events of the night.
The terms of the treaty were suspicious and not to be trusted. King Regis was giving up much of his land and wealth to appease their enemies, much to the chagrin of the citizens. The king's decision had been met with a division that Noelle had never seen in all her short life living in the Crown City. It appeared that the majority of the people loathed the terms that had been agreed to, and they protested vehemently to ensure their voice was heard. On the other hand, there were those that eagerly welcomed the thought of peace. These were mainly the older citizens who knew well the costs that war brought with it.
Noelle found herself somewhere in the middle. She longed for the days of peace, where one would not have to worry about what was going to happen to their home or their future. On the other hand, Niflheim's sincerity was dubious at best. The king was surrounded by the best advisers that the kingdom had to offer, so surely he had already taken this into consideration? The only thing the average person could do was to trust that their ruler had exhausted all other options and had opted for what was best for the people of his country.
As she neared the Citadel, she flashed her ID at the guard watching over the staff entrance, and was ushered into a scene of utter chaos. Servants dressed as she was, with the same black trousers and white blouses, were rushing to and fro. Some carried vases of flowers to set out near the podium, others with plates piled with hors d'oeuvres.
Noelle made her way strategically through the bustle until she had reached the eye of the storm: the head chef. He was dressed in the traditional white frock of his profession, looking down a long list of items, bellowing orders to any who would listen. Occasionally he would mark an item off the list.
"Make sure you don't drop that bowl, boy, or there'll be hell to pay!" he bossily ordered a young, harassed looking boy. "That was expensive, mind you, shipped all the way from Altissia."
The poor boy hurried away, eager to be rid of the ill-tempered cook, as Noelle approached. "Are you scaring all the new staff away already, Cooky?" she teased in lieu of a greeting. "If you keep this up, there won't be any help left by the time this ceremony is over."
"Noelle!" Cooky turned to her fully, prepared to give her his orders as well. "It's about time you showed up. Emperor Idolas is here already, and he's brought Chancellor Izunia with him. In fact, it appears that he brought the whole Empire with him! Even with all our preparations, we still don't have enough help on the floor. I need you in there."
"Yes, sir," Noelle answered and moved away.
With her duties for the night now given, she grabbed a large serving plate, loaded it down with as many glasses of champagne as she could fit on it, and backed out of the kitchen onto the floor. The hustle of the room behind her was drowned out by the chatter of the richly dressed crowd, a live band softly playing music in the corner. This was the territory of the rich and the famous; barons and lords rubbed elbows with politicians and important members of the press. Servants meandered through the mix, platters of hors d'oeuvres and glasses of champagne snatched from them. Noelle settled herself near the wall, resigned to a dull evening of waiting hand and foot on the pampered people.
Near the front of the room, a tall, well dressed man wearing glasses took his place at the podium. He held a glass of champagne in one hand, and pushed his glasses up his nose with his free hand. Using a fork, he gently tapped the side of his drink, the note sounding loud and clear. The band in the corner ceased their playing, and the murmur of the people gradually died away.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the man began, his British voice clear. "For many years, our nation has been at war with the Imperial Army. The brave men and women of the glaive have risked life and limb to bring security to the people of Insomnia. Many of us have lost loved ones.
"We are gathered together tonight to celebrate peace. Peace that was fought for so fiercely. No longer will we worry what the future may bring. We shall have safety and prosperity together. Ladies and gentlemen, please put your hands together for King Regis and Emperor Aldercapt."
The room erupted in applause as the man left the podium, leaving it open for the two introduced to take their places. Cameras flashed, and reporters vied for the best position in the front.
"People of Insomnia," began the king in his warm voice. "Thank you -"
A deep, echoing boom sounded from somewhere outside the Citadel, cutting off the words of King Regis. People shared the same confused glance. The same sound came once more, this time as more of a rumble. The room shook and the crystal chandelier swayed, tinkling merrily in spite of the ominous sounds. For a moment all was still, and someone chuckled nervously as the buzz of talk began once more.
Then the glass of the windows was broken, people shrieked, and for the people of Insomnia the world was plunged into chaos.