There was tightness in her chest. And although her aunt constantly kept that cheery smile as they walk towards the testing hall, two guards flanking, still, fear claimed Alve. When they continued to travel the warm corridors, the princess gave her sore attention to the windows they passed of snow furry.
“I suspect you want freedom from that horrible cloak,” Mistress Dasia said to her blithely in the cadence of the muffled winds outside.
“Must I wear this?” Alve considered the long blue thick wore. There was no exception for garb to future students and the dribble of sweat against her skin was starting to smart.
“I object to the thing myself, but you need to represent the Chonerin proudly,” Dasia waved her hand astrally. “Your Thanomtva is especially important, dear. The mages must see the proud princess regally.”
Alve swallowed the heavy air and sighed. She was also quavering. When her hands met at the hidden embrace of her sleeves, she felt the chill. They arrived at the double doors when the amount of anxiety caught her longingness. “I want to see Urda,” the princess said finally.
The Mistress's hand caught the doorknob but stopped heedlessly. Alve weighed the change of her aunt’s good faith as the teacher inquired, “and at this very moment?”
“Yes.” The princess replied in a whisper. There was a silent juncture before bravery had eventually arrived at Alve’s behest. “I want to have Urda again, if… if… I get an excellent score on the reading and writing test.”
Her aunt stared at her. Dropping her hands to her waist and sneering fondly, Alve had expected a current of barbs towards her insistence when the Mistress collectively responded, “and why should I accept the condition?”
“Because… because… Because I will try to fail all of it!” Alve was shocked by the idea. Though she wagered it herself, its origin even drew her aunt’s dark pupils.
The pause was long. Alve did not dare to recant. Mistress Dasia however surprisingly took the gamble as well. The instructor’s voice was calmer from her usual brevity but was equally cunning. “I will accept it, dear, however, as a part of the party betting, I will have the condition if and only if you have all of the tests in excellence.”
The princess hauled so much alarm that she could not reply when the Mistress continued, “I believe we have equal losses. Fail this exam and you will lose your chance at your Urda and Pillar State School. Succeed and it will make us all happy, don’t you agree?”
Alve was young. Too young and the assuring maid’s tenacity covered everything she had to endure of interchanging servants. So, when her hope rose, the deal was struct. “Yes. Yes, I agree.”
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Bapi peered at the jaunting and noisy noble across where he sat. Three golden heads of the Chonerin were present and to the mage’s curiosity were all tensed. He could see the tallest, the heir, grim in deep thought, shadows lining his young pale face. The other boy, although serene kept watching the doors. And the girl, who caught all the entourage of mages’ attention, was fulfilled to walk back and forth while chocking in harsh derision.
“Amusing little ones aren’t they? Such candor for such younglings that you could not believe that they are their kingdom’s future.” He was in a bright mood, the Doyen Lord Visor.
Bapi looked at the principal with divorced scrutiny. A rare find of a grandfather, he thought silently before finding the head’s right arm concerning. “They know something that the school does not. Typical for aristocrats.” Bapi replied while subsequently regarding the principal’s sleeve housing the encircled bandages. “What in goddess’s hellfire happened to your arm?” he hissed.
“And that is why I find this day exciting. We’ll find out why in a matter of minutes. You should have seen how that thing blew up a roof. I’ll tell you later.” Bapi burrowed his brows at the Lord Visor when the guard at the door caught him at the announcement, “rise, for the princess Alvedaima Novredin Chonerin, and her instructor, Lady and Mistress Dasia Zahroh Oldotre of Oholdon!”
The thwarted question was diminished from the mage’s thoughts when Bapi had a glimpse of their entering examinee. Whispers went out and about between the other mages as Bapi’s own hair tingled upright.
The very short and frail little girl wore a fancy blue-trimmed long cloak. Golden prints and stitches were scattered along with the familiar student drab. She looked very pale like snow and her curly dark hair hang long on her back. Yes, it was something the Pillar-State School in Cheron bid in shock. But the eyes. Her large eyes of pure dark green spoke enigma. And when those eyes inspected the gathered humans in the room, when it finally rested on Bapi, memories of blood, horror, and death washed his stern eth.
It was the Doyen Lord Visor’s fast reaction that saved both the mages standing and Bapi’s own desolation come to life when the principal said, “greetings young lady.” He bowed heartily before continuing, “we are the mages of the Pillar-State of Eth here in our kingdom and we were invited in the behest request of your entrance to our school.”
The princess nodded.
“I am the Doyen Lord Visor Zazun and with me are our very excellent mages and scholars who will be giving you the tests.” The principal was beaming with delight. “I believe these consecutive days are your Thanomtva?”
The princess nodded again but this time a little confident.
“That is good then!” He looked at the gathered nobles and mages greedily, “which means we will also be celebrating your birth tomorrow.” A tentative laugh came from the mages. “Your Thanom, today shall be the preparation and your exam day. Tomorrow, your Thani, and also our Derm, and a time for us to reconvene your answers. The day after that, your Thanavna will announce your results. We will have to finish these tests as early as possible so that we can celebrate the new term of Torion as such. And…” the principal dragged the word shortly in chaff, “the school has a special gift for you, my dear princess, once you succeed.”
An outburst of infinite bliss came over the crowd when the princess in jubilance grinned in delight. The comfort had only confirmed Bapi’s dread.
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