As I rode through the streets of Bascalin, I had to tug a bit at the neck of my dress, the smallest beads of sweat forming on my brow. Clothes in Tarsa were made for cooler weather, even those of the nobility. And it wasn’t just the dress either, someone had elected to place heavy velvet curtains over the windows, trapping all the heat within. Even so, I could bear it, just as I could bear wearing the heavy, unwieldy garment in the first place. Though I always disliked Mer trying to force me into dresses, I could forgive her this time, as I had her to thank for purchasing one as fine as this. If not for her, I may have arrived in the Capitol in my miner’s leathers.

I had never felt so much like a noble as that evening, I don’t think I had ever stopped working long enough to notice. The inner fabric was so soft, very comfortable for all its restrictions. And the deep red outer layer was gorgeous, just like the finest rubies pulled from the mountains. Thankfully, the fur inserts meant to go inside the sleeves in winter were removable, else I may have fainted from the heat. I had convinced my Mer to let me wear a pair of leather gloves and a pair of boots, though finer than any I’d worn in the mines. My hair was down for once, but I had left it unadorned. The gold I wore around my neck and waist were enough for this day. A leather sash lay across my chest as well, and upon it were the crest of the family Blackstone and the crest of Tarsa. It was for both their honor I was here.

When the carriage slowed and the doors opened wide, my eyes fluttered shut for a moment as a cool breeze washed over me. It was quite a relief after that ride. But as I stepped out, I could not open them much wider. The grand carved cities of home were miniscule compared to this, and the throngs of people just waiting for the arrival of the women was massive. I wasn’t sure I had ever seen so many people in one place, except perhaps at the Day of Hauling. It required a national festival to compete with this city. Though in some respects, this was much like a festival as well. I gave a curt nod to the crowd, having nothing to say aloud.

The footman who had opened my door for me directed my attention to the Palace, and my heart nearly stopped. It was beautiful, absolutely stunning. I could see gold atop the towers, and had to wonder which mine it came from. There was so much, surely more than one would have had to contribute. As for the dome, I recognized it immediately. Only the Darkwing mine in Mindor had marble bands large enough to create such a piece, and of that color. It was beautiful craftsmanship, and though I would have loved to know how such a weight could have been lifted, I was ushered quickly inside.

As I waited to be announced, just outside the main hall, I straightened my attire, a bit wrinkled after the journey over. A passing servant was kind enough to offer me a cloth to wipe the sweat from my face. I would look neither nervous nor disheveled before my Emperor. Even if I was used to walking through the mines, coated in dirt and dust, I could carry myself in this gilded hall. Between Mer’s training and accompanying Das on his trips, I had learned enough. Hearing my name called, “Lady Marishka Blackstone of Tarsa,” I took that as my cue to enter.

The room was amazing, just like the city and the palace exterior. A rainbow of colors danced across each surface as the evening light trickled through the colorful glass. Yet I kept my eyes steady, watching a spot just before the Emperor as I walked up, slowly and deliberately. In Tarsa, I would have walked up to a noble lord with my head high, eyes meeting in mutual respect. Here though, I did not know if that would be too bold, for this was no noble lord. With a gentle curtsy, I looked up for a moment to meet his gaze. Though seated, it was as if he loomed over me, as if he looked straight through my body and gazed upon my soul within. I felt a shiver creep up my spine, but I had seen many things below the earth. I would not let this moment frighten me.

“Your Grace,” I bowed my head once more, “I come before you as the Daughter of Tarsa, as the eldest child of the Lord Blackstone and his wife. I represent my people with pride and honor.” My accent, lightly rolled ‘r’ sounds and a slight difference of certain vowels, was present. But I chose not to hide it, for it would be disgraceful to throw away that part of my history so quickly. As for the nickname, it seemed appropriate. It was what the nobility at home called me.

I looked to each of the princes in turn, giving each a quick curtsy as well. The eldest, Prince Prar, looked like he was as excited by this event as much as I was. Which is to say, very little. His manners were impeccable, which I respected, yet I had met men with manners before. They could be a bit boring at times. Yet it seemed he may be the type of man who could lead. I would keep an eye on him.

 The middle son, Prince Delt, was far too amused by the ordeal. I could not place what his face was telling me, but I was not interested to find out. He seemed the type I would dislike: too much fun, not enough dedication. A good thing he was not next in line for the throne, perhaps? Yet he reminded me a bit of Kiezer, eyes twinkling as if he had a joke he just had to share. I would give him a chance, but so far I was unimpressed

As for the youngest, Prince Tamd was obvious uncomfortable. It did not benefit a prince to show such weakness. A leader must keep face no matter what. If the head were to panic, how are the hands to know what to do? He was young though, a boy of less years than my first brother, perhaps he had just not grown enough to be ready for his role. I was not interested in him yet, but I would give all the princes a chance, for it was my duty.

After I had made my rounds, I returned my eyes to the floor before His Grace. He spoke, asking me why I was here. I considered the question for a moment, developing what I hoped was an honest and appropriate response: “Your Grace, I come to offer my people pride, and my family great honor. I come before you to become a member of your esteemed house, to become mother to the next line in that house, and perhaps to help this house lead this Empire to even brighter tomorrows. I come before you to do my duty, and I come before you because I wish to be here.”

With that, I looked up to him once more, hoping myself not too bold. I could read nothing in his face, though I am sure he read something in mine. Perhaps many things, I could not say how much. He nodded to the footman who had announced me, and I was led to a chair on the side of the room. There was one for each region, and I sat in the middle, unafraid of my competitors. I had faced death, women were no trouble. Once I was situated, the soldier returned to his post, calling the name of the next girl. My eyes went between the princes one last time, before watching her enter as I had.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Responses From Emperor and Princes (GypsyMoth)~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Emperor Nixus did not respond to Marishka’s introduction. But he continued to look at her steadily. It could have been an unnerving stare, if Marishka chose to interpret it that way. But at any rate, he did not seem put off by her accent. Prince Prar nodded politely to her curtsey, and even let his eyes linger on her a moment before gazing away. Prince Delt did not seem particularly impressed, but he still smiled, so it was hard to tell. Prince Tamd smiled back sweetly at her curtsey, and stopped fidgeting until she had taken her seat. Marishka’s answer to the Emperor’s question was well-spoken. Emperor Nixus nodded deeply. Was it an approving nod? It was hard to say for certain. But it was surely not disapproving. Prince Delt did not seem impressed by her answer. Prince Prar’s expression flickered slightly, but what that could mean was anyone’s guess.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Responses to Other Contestants~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was only the second woman to arrive, a lone girl sat on the side. I knew not her name, but I could tell she was a fighter, likely the submission from Elgra. A fierce look sat upon her features, and whoever she was, it did not seem as if she was pleased to be here. I did not acknowledge her presence, there was no need. I had no idea what she had said or done, nothing to base an opinion on yet.

The woman after me was a pale beauty, and carried herself with great poise. Surely this Cyrilla Frostthorn was a noble, likely from a much older family than my own. Being from Bascalin herself, she must have far more practice dealing with the nobility here, perhaps she was someone I could ask for guidance, unless she was too intent on winning to help a competitor. I noticed she had looked right in the Emperor’s eyes, perhaps I had come off as too meek in my presentation, instead of respectful. She showed no fear, or very little at least. It seemed as if, for a few seconds, she would be unsure, unsteady. But her grace overall was astounding. However, it seemed her interest was in Prince Prar as well, so perhaps I had some honest competition. As she approached, I gave her a brief nod, respectful of the display she had given.

The fourth to enter carried some sort of containers with her, a strange display. Senaria of Vandrea, she did not seem like a noble’s daughter. Too relaxed, for she spoke to the Emperor as if he were a common man. When she began to hand out the tins, of goat’s milk apparently, I had to suppress a snicker. His Grace could have the finest milks from across the land with a mere wave of his hand. She was sweet perhaps, but a leader is not just sweet. Again, her interest seemed to be Prince Prar. This was becoming a bit troubling, if so many were after one man, it would be even more difficult to win. She was led over, and I did not acknowledge her. I had seen nothing I was impressed with.

The girl named Fenil... I was not sure what to make of her. Arriving with bangles of gold was one thing, but shackles of iron? The words she spoke were eloquent, yes, but barbed as a rose. I noted the Emperor’s dislike of her, and couldn’t help but agree. Did she view this as a joke? It was an honor to be chosen to come before His Grace, why would her nation offer her as their representative? There was no way a criminal would win, surely they had more suitable choices. I avoided watching her any more than I had to.

Sarina of Chastry was yet another sweet one. I could tell her nerves were shaken merely being in the room. She could not be a queen, not enough strength to keep her body from revealing exactly what ran through her mind. Her words were simple, something to be expected of the jungle men, but even so, they were enough, and said what they needed to. And this girl at least seemed interested in the other princes. I let her sit, feeling no need to draw her attention.

The girl from Qan was also nervous. It was as though she had only sea legs, for she seemed to sway on a ship merely walking across the floor. When she spoke, her metaphor was quickly tore down. I felt sorry for her, I was glad I had gotten no response. It may not have been good, but at least it was not a bad either. But she recovered decently at least, and I had to admire her courage to use such tricky phrases. Unless it was not courage at all, but an accident. Either way, she was not of much interest to me yet.

Tanaris Summerwing, the girl from Prendit, kept her composure well. I could have grinned as she spoke of proving herself. A strong woman, if a bit outspoken. In Tarsa, we have strong women, such as myself of course, but we had no need of such brazen declarations. We merely do what we must to achieve our goals. I wanted to know more about her, perhaps we could get along in this castle. I gave her a nod as she headed over as well, marking her the second lady to win some measure of respect from me.

Wenth’s representative Lyla appeared confident and respectful, as any good lady should. Confident, just like Lady Summerwing, perhaps those two would get along. Lyla said little, but her message was clear and powerful, almost challenging the Emperor. Maybe a bit too bold, but she made an impression at least. As she was led over, I also nodded to her. I couldn’t help but respect the women who carried themselves with strength and dignity, and she had done just that.

Of course the woman from Rixier was dressed in an elaborate dress. She outclassed most of the women, though I had to wonder if it was too much, even for her. When she addressed His Grace, this Corasara Arosi was blunt, as several had been before her. Her response was very similar to mine, if shorter, but I could see the traces of worry on her face. Even so, she was respectful and mature, and added her to my list to watch.

When the entrant from Zyle entered, it was as if a symphony of birds and bells rang out together. I couldn’t decide if it were a song, or merely noise. Then she chose not to speak, instead writing on a glass tablet and having a servant read for her. It was quite a spectacle, and I had to wonder what a mute had to offer the Empire. Her introduction was rather pointed, and her response very short. Though she seemed confident, I did not appreciate her silence, and did not acknowledge her.

Symelia of Ytria was dressed simply, with flowers adorning her hair and arm. I was very interested, the forests of Ytria were so very secluded, how would a woman from that far-off place carry herself? She looked like a simple girl, and though she carried herself well, her response was underwhelming. Here to learn? That was not our duty here. She made no mention of the task for which we had been called. I felt no need to address this girl yet, her priorities seemed strange to me. Perhaps it was just due to her isolation from the rest of the Empire, but that was no excuse.

The next woman to enter was Cora of Kretrin, and she was a mess. Between losing all composure as she walked in, blushing, falling over her own shoes, her walk before the Emperor was underwhelming. When she reached the throne, she seemed to forget what she was trying to say. I had to shake my head, this was saddening. I felt sorry for her, but at the same time, here was one less woman to have to compete with. She tottered over on her heels, and I just looked to the next girl who entered.

In walked a girl in a tattered dress that once must have been beautiful, but was now worn and dirty. And for some reason, she thought it was funny. I raised an eyebrow when she let out a soft laugh, and caught sight of a scar. Nothing I was unaccustomed to seeing though. When Ismene finally spoke though, she used a quote to support her point. Though the words were beautiful, I was disappointed. Could she not come up with her own answer? She was bold though, and I debated nodding to her. In the end, I did. I could relate well enough to her dirty clothes, and she seemed quite brave.

The entrance of Thera Undonae of Phitra was unremarkable, she walked in calmly, greeting the princes with smiles. I was about to tune out, getting a bit bored with these proceedings. Yet her answer drew my attention. She was not here for honor or family, but for love? I shook my head, ever so slightly. Coming here was not how to find love, not as your only goal. This was a competition to find a Queen, not merely a wife. Even so, her answer frightened me; would the princes be blinded in their search by these silly words? I ignored her as she walked over, mulling over this question in my head.

One of the last girls was the entrant from Mindor. I perked up, interested to see the entrant I hoped would have the most in common with me. She walked with grace, and offered a gift. While others laughed at the rough stone, I grinned, and when it split open, I eyed the gems to identify them. They were beautiful, just like her words, and I had great respect for her. She was working hard, in spite of coming from a poorer family. As much as I liked her though, I also feared her. She would be a good competitor, and even as I nodded to her, I was concerned as I caught a glipse of a smile on Prince Prar’s face.

(Dolls with no stories, respond eventually: Kasha)

(No doll or story: mmgirl’s character)