In Ayortha, sings were held more frequently than balls. It was because of the culture of Ayortha. Ayorthaians treasured their voices more than their grace on the dance floor. There were many songs for each particular occasion. That was the reason why the songs of tonight's celebration were all about homecoming, travel, and nature. There was a ball afterwards but the singing was the highlight of the evening.
The celebration was, of course, for Tristan. It had been a day since our confusing meeting. Tonight was the celebration for his return. All the Ayorthaians were invited for the sings. There were performers. Many volunteered to perform for Tristan. It didn't occur to me that he could be so popular, being the way he was to me when we were young.
I had not yet gotten over completely how Tristan the imp became Tristan the prince. I suspected that he too had not yet gotten over me being the way I was now in comparison to before. Last night during dinner, when we were all supposed to eat together, I couldn't even look at him. Unfortunately, he was directly in front of me. Father and Mother were both having a delightful time with Uncle Orono and Aunt Vanessa. Ettore and Adara were not speaking, as usual. Tristan also tried not to let his eyes fall on me. We were both quite uncomfortable in each other's company. Maybe it was because we still couldn't believe we had changed, or maybe it was because we were practicing the customs of Ayorthaian nobility.
Before the celebration, Aunt Vanessa called me to her room. I knew what was on her mind. It was confirmed when I stepped in her room and she ran to me, dragging me out of the doorway and leading me to her dressing room.
"Catleya!" she said. "I am so glad that you came! You know what I'm going to do to you."
Yesterday she told me that tomorrow was the ball and that she wanted me to be her masterpiece. She only thought of the ball because during sings, a person was not really judged by her looks but by her voice.
"Must I really come through this?" I asked. Submissiveness was not a special trait of mine. To be frank, I would rather not go along with Aunt Vanessa. The only reason why I was agreeing to it was because of pure courtesy. All my life I was taught to be courteous and my lessons had rubbed in on me.
"Good. Now, I want you to pick one of three colors. Violet, white, or red."
I never really had a favorite color. Mother said that when I was twelve, I was obsessed with the color blue. She said that every gown I owned was the color blue and I insisted blue on everything. I perfectly remembered the closet filled with blue clothes. The abundant number of blue gowns in my closet was proof.
Then, the color lavender. I recalled that I steadfastly refused the color of be labeled purple or violet or pink. It had to be lavender. My explanation was because lavender was the mixture of powder pink and violet, which was contrary to the mixture of violet which was blue and red. It was also contrary to the mixture of pink, which was red and white.
I supposed that it was better I didn't had a favorite color because I tend to go to the extreme, like what happened when I liked blue. Fortunately, right now, there was no definite color in my mind. Now, it really depended on what the occasion was.
"Violet?" My answer was more of a question.
Aunt Vanessa smiled broadly and went to one of the closets. She pulled out a violet gown. "I've been saving this for you, and only you. It's pretty isn't it?"
I studied the gown she held up. It was pretty, yet pretty was an understatement. The neckline was square with flowers embroidered at the hem. The skirt was not so voluminous. The bodice was in a lighter shade of violet (or something more like lavender) than the sleeves and the skirt. The sleeves were slit and revealed a darker colored cloth underneath. I touched the material; it was silk.
"It's too rich for me," I told her humbly.
Aunt Vanessa was indignant. "What?? My dear, your humility is more of an impediment. It's not too rich for you. You're too rich for it."
"I'm not!" I retorted. Then I shut up. Even though I was rebellious and contrariness was natural to me, I preferred to keep it under control.
She glared at me. "No, no, no. Wear this and I will fix your hair."
"Why do you want me to look so pretty anyway? I could do this myself," I protested.
"Because…" Aunt Vanessa's voice was in a tone that meant listen and don't answer back OR ELSE. "I want you to be my special project. Catleya, when you become a young princess you will find out that every occasion in your life is important. Balls and sings are as important as comings-of-age."
"It's not like I'm going to chase after anybody…" I muttered under my breath. Good thing Aunt Vanessa didn't here, else I would be in trouble.
She pushed me behind a dressing screen. She handed the gown to me. I was scowling at her. "Dress up alright? And about your...I'll deal with that after."
When I put on the dress, I didn't want to take it off. It felt so soft against the skin and the gown felt like it was especially made only for me. I stepped out of the screen and Aunt Vanessa sighed.
"Good. Now for your hair. I simply cannot believe that you would just leave it flowing behind your back without the merest adornments! Can't you at least use a headband?"
I didn't like putting adornments in my hair. I thought it a burden to look at myself in the mirror, checking if my hair looked fine. And then, I would have to crane my neck just to see the hair was properly fixed. Sometimes, I tied my hair in a hasty ponytail, not caring whether this particular strand was standing up or not in place. I did use headbands but not often. If the wind was strong and practically blew my hair in all directions, I would fix it but then how frequent was strong wind?
Aunt Vanessa fixed my hair herself. Before she could start, I already knew what she had in mind but then, Aunt Vanessa was unpredictable. She was fixing my hair into a braid but instead of separating it into the usual three sections, she only separated two. I saw her retrieve a long ribbon the color of lavender (yes, I still refused to call lavender purple even though it wasn't my favorite color). She tied it to my hair, and I thought she was done with me. But she wasn't. She braided my hair with the ribbon. And when she did finish, my hairstyle was unique: a long solitary braid interlocking ribbon and hair.
Even though I was already done with the gown and hair, Aunt Vanessa was adamant about face paint. I looked at her with horror because I didn't like to put paint on my face. I had once tried applying face paint, on the ball of my sixteenth birthday. My face felt like there was another layer of uncomfortable skin on it. And I was frequently worried about the paint getting smudged. I also had a hard time taking it off. It seemed to have hardened on my face, refusing to leave its new home. When I finally got it off, my face was red from the scrubbing and itchy with a slight allergy.
Although face paint was fashionable among nobility throughout the kingdoms, I swore never to use them again. Besides, it was not all fashionable. In a span of twenty years, fashion had changed very much. During Father and Mother's time, face paint was fashionable in the eastern kingdoms and to traveling foreigners or gypsies but not popular in Kyrria and Ayortha. The ladies of the court soon dabbled on eastern fashion and decided to practice the usage of face paint. It was like a disease that went from lady to lady, and eventually, every lady who wanted to look exceptionally beautiful practiced it. Well, one could look beautiful using face paint but if the intent was too look ghastly, then it could be fulfilled. But if that lady really didn't know how to apply the paint, most likely she would look unpleasantly wrong. Many ladies were rejuvenated using only a brush with some colored powder, yet I didn't need it. My face was young and was only burdened with the things that made other women lovely. And I didn't want my face to have rashes like before.
I explained all this to Aunt Vanessa, and her crestfallen face made me feel guilty. I knew all to well that she was only sad because she wasn't able to play with me thoroughly. Yet she insisted that I put a little color on my lips and then she would be happy.
"You don't need rouge on your cheeks. Your cheeks are already noticeably roseate against your pale skin," she said.
I allowed her to do so. Pretty soon, she asked me to stand up and show to her what she had done. She was beaming at me.
"You reminded me when I was still your age," she told me. Then she smirked, "But then, I was enthusiastic."
She looked me over one more time then let me go. It was already quarter to six, and the celebration would start at six. I decided to stay in my room for awhile. I didn't want to go to the celebration too early. They might think I was too enthusiastic. I especially didn't want my parents think I was enthusiastic to see Tristan.
I stared outside my window. I couldn't see much point in looking at the rooftops. Night was already arriving, and it was clouding Ayortha with darkness. There was nothing to see. I averted my stare unto the right of my window. I could see lights and people walking. Flowers were being carried from one place to another. Last-minute preparations were being conducted.
Why was there so much fuss on Tristan? I must have closed my ears to whatever news considering him. He couldn't be all that mean now. I had changed and so did he. He must have learned a lot from his travels.
I looked at the clock. It was already six. Father wanted me to be there punctually. It was because our presence would be officially acknowledged by the whole of Ayortha. By this he meant that we would have to be in a parade of royals, waving our hands and smiling. My humility might be too much but I believed that I was already princess and many knew that; I didn't have to flaunt it. Mother disliked doing this. She was truly the most unconventional queen. She didn't like showing to the people how great she was. It was because she felt like it was demanding adoration from them. Mother didn't like unnecessary ostentatiousness.
I frowned. I wasn't about to present myself to public scrutiny. If my defiance would anger Father, let him be angry! I wasn't about to do something ridiculous just to showcase myself.
The celebration was going to be the highlight of my visit to Ayortha. I felt bad that Owen wouldn't be able to be there. Where was he anyway? Mother sent him a letter, but what if he really didn't receive it. That would be terrible!
There was a knock on my door.
It was a young squire. He ogled at me. I was confused, actually, on what he was doing there. Luftmensch… He stared at me as if I was on display, and I was beginning to feel uncomfortable.
"Sir? What are you doing here?" I demanded. I was cross, suddenly.
He suddenly was alert. He bowed deeply. "I was asked to escort you, your Highness."
He gave me his hand but I didn't take it. "Please tell those who are concerned of your escorting me that I will come down by myself in a while."
"But your Highness, their Highnesses King Charmont and Queen Ella wish to see you as soon as possible."
I shook my head. His whole sentence irritated me. There were too many Highnesses in it. "They will understand my delay. You may now go."
I could see in his eyes the bafflement he was feeling. He bowed uneasily and left.
Father would be vexed with me, and so would Mother but Mother would be proud that I would not allow myself for display. She encouraged me to speak my mind and be myself. She would be lenient with me.
In the celebration below, I could hear the herald declare their names.
King Orono.
Queen Vanessa.
Prince Ettore.
Princess Adara.
King Charmont.
Queen Ella.
He pronounced Father, Mother, and Aunt Vanessa's names. Father became King Echarmont. Mother became Queen Elle, although it was alright because Elle was the Ayorthaian counterpart of Ella. Aunt Vanessa's name became Avanessa.
Tristan was not called of course. He would have the grand entrance.
When his name was called, I stood up and went down. The halls and corridors were empty. They were all in the celebration. I could here the Ayorthaians singing the homecoming song.
Oak, graniteLilies by the road,
Remember me?
I remember you.
Clouds brushing
Clover hills,
Remember me?
Sister, child,
Grown tall,
Remember me?
I remember you.
I sang along softly. The walls echoed my voice. When I reached the celebration, the song had ended and they have started singing a new song. It was a funny song this time. It was about a boy who shot an arrow on the air and looked up, only to find that it had not returned back down. He didn't realize that the arrow had already come down and struck itself on his hat. Ignorance was bliss after all.
When I arrived at the celebration, I saw that the audience was applauding the singers. My parents were upfront with the Ayorthaian sovereigns. I could see their heads. Mother's head was thrown back in laughter. Father was laughing along with her, but he didn't laugh so ostentatiously. The others must have heard the song before because their reaction was not as flamboyant as Mother's. I smiled. Mother was always outspoken with her every action.
All the spectators were seated and I didn't want to disturb them. I decided to hang out at the back. I was the only one standing there. I supposed that it was kind of depressing: me, a princess of Kyrria, standing at the back while all the others were sitting. But I didn't mind much.
A new song began. This time, it was more melodramatic that the previous one. It was that way in Ayorthaian culture. A happy light song was prior to a heavier and emotional song. It was to prepare the audience. After the emotional song, another happy song would follow, to lighten up the mood of the listeners. I preferred listening to the heavier songs, although some people were far too affected by it. Songs speak truth through melodies and fiction, but though the truth is shrouded it would always affect a person.
Your footsteps come to me
Yet you are far from me
Your voice whispers in my ear
But screams cannot make me hear you
You eyes gaze at my soul
Although your eyes have turned away from me
You are no longer here
But your presence lingers
You are here
With me
And though you are gone
Away from my arms
I will never not see you
Never not hear you
Never not feel you
Never not completely let you go
(A/N: I demand poetic license! Yes the negation use is appalling but POETIC LISENCE!!)
I noticed Mother look back at me. She was signaling something with her hands but I couldn't understand her. She seemed like she was waving at the air. I mistook her sign language for "Come here". I went to her, saying excuse me, almost stepping on people's feet, and feeling my face redden with embarrassment.
Mother was furious I came. "Why did you come?"
I was crouched beside her chair, peering up at her like a puppy begging for food. "You said you wanted me here!"
"I said leave!"
"Why?"
Mother threw up her hands in exasperation. "Quick before your father—"
"Catleya?" Father leaned from Mother's right side.
I swore my face lost all its color. It was not because Father's face was threatening, which it was not. He was actually grinning. I paled because Mother's face was pure horror. Father had something in mind and I feared it had something to do with me.
"Why weren't here early?"
I opened my mouth to speak. "I had a slight migraine…" I lied.
Father was not convinced. "Catleya. Orono suggested that since you are the guest of honor, you must present a song. With my consent of course. I could have said no but then, since you didn't come, I will have to tell him that after the last singer you will perform a song."
My mouth dropped. I knew that my actions would lead something more terrible. Why didn't I foresee it? Of course Father always gave out subtle punishments to his children. Once, when I deliberately skipped Language class to read in the library, instead of depriving me of the library, he said, "Since you love books so much, therefore read this whole section. Finish it by the end of the month." He gestured at the Philosophical section of the library. I was still a mere twelve-year old girl. I loved reading but reading all those books that were redundant was unbearable. I couldn't understand half of what I read. The punishment was fitting because I wanted to read books so he gave me books. I could have hated him by then but I knew better. It was my entire fault.
"You can't do this to me!" I retorted.
"But I am doing this to you, so I suggest that you go to a corner and think of what you will sing," he pointed out.
Mother was slightly grinning. "I wanted you to leave because he told me that if you came near us during the sings, he would make you sing. Don't worry, Catleya. You have a beautiful voice."
I chastised myself for not coming. I would bear the parading but not the singing! Yet I did what Father told me to do; I went to a corner and thought of a song. I decided to sing one of the love songs.
Sometimes, Mother sang this for me while I was a child. She said that it was my song, and should be especially sung for me. It was because the song had lines that reminded her of my name: Catleya. The title was "Flowers Bearing My Name". It was a love song.
In the corner, I sang to myself the song. I wanted to make it sound beautiful to me and to the Ayorthaians, especially. If I were to sing in front of an audience, then I would, but mind you, I would not embarrass myself by giving a lousy show. I wanted to make them listen with awe and when I was done, they would stand up and applaud for me. Their applauding would ease the humiliation I would feel.
One of the Ayorthaians stood up and introduced me. He said that it was a great honor that the princess of Kyrria would be gracing them with a song. He beckoned me to come. I felt all their eyes on me. Once in a while, I heard some murmurs. What were they telling each other? Uncle Orono and Aunt Vanessa were beaming at me. Ettore and Adara clearly showed anticipation in their faces. Father was smiling at me, and I swore Mother was laughing a little. I couldn't blame her; I was practically miserable up here. I could see Tristan smiling. He must be wondering what good I would be. I was determined enough to show them all I could sing, and not just sing—but sing beautifully.
My determination was incredible in times of dire need. If I pushed myself to do something, I would not only succeed, I would excel in it.
Give them to me
Flowers bearing my name
Tinge with oranges
Splashed with yellows
Painted with white
Present my name
In a bouquet
With a violet silk ribbon
And a note written in your own hand
Those three special words
I long to hear for so long
When the last note left my lips, everyone was standing, and they were applauding.
~*~
I'm sorry this chapter took eons to upload! I've been very busy. There's a debate coming (Debate is a love-hate relationship. I love it for doing it but I hate it for the time it takes) and I'm part of the research committee. I have to research about it because the format is Oregon-Oxford, and it's prepared. ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ Ok…I'm talking nonsense. And third year is HECTIC! My goodness, I might just kill myself! I really do try to find time to write stories! I mean it!!! I am really sorry!!!!!!!
I hope you like this chapter!! The last chapter was entitled An Exotic Colorful Bird because Catleya described Ayortha as "an exotic colorful bird with a harmonious song" I didn't add "with a harmonious song" because it was too long. ÜÜÜÜÜÜ
BTW, I also uploaded an essay! Ü It's really stupid in a way but I want to preserve it! The teacher said it was good anyway, although I only got an 8/10. Do you know why?? Because I forgot to put quotation marks! JUST FOR THAT MEASLEY MISTAKE!!!
And thank you to all the reviewers! I love you all for reviewing!! ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ