Father brought Heather and I down the long walk to the front of the palace with Great-Grandmother in tow. While not having been taken all around, I’d seen enough to know the general layout of my new humble home.

There was the courtyard and front gardens leading into the Southern Wing housing the administrative rooms, offices, and throne room. In the center of building lay a massive inner garden into which the ballroom jutted. The Northern Wing held my family’s rooms, spare rooms for important guests, parlors, and the private offices. The Southern and Northern wings were then connected by the longer, narrower Eastern and Western wings, which contained other things like the kitchens, staff quarters, record rooms, and bedrooms for the not-quite-as-important guests.

When we reached Mother and Great-Grandfather Gawain with Theo and Lucian in the sitting room where they waited, the others having left for the Grand Chapel, it was safe to say my siblings and I were, in fact, not ready to meet the world.

A terrible cycle started. Heather soiled her diaper. Then I soiled mine. No matter how much I wished, the bodily functions of this form were not mine to control. Worse, my round stained my stark white ceremonial dress with a leaking hint of brown. The servants rushed to clean it while my brothers’ bowels did their work. Following came the gremlin, bleating chorus of the four of us needing to be fed.

“Come on, Theo,” Mother fretted with wet eyes.

A wet nurse had been called to help, making us only half an hour late when we were finally in the spacious and elegant coach of, of course, deep crimson with gold, orange, and white accents heading to the Chapel. Theo remained lazily attached to Mother’s breast with eyes half-lidded and mouth slowly suckling not in any rush to be full or fall asleep. A warbling, shrieking cry would escape his lips if Mother dared move him an inch from his comfy spot.

“It will be fine, dear,” Great-Grandfather comforted, brown eyes reassuring with patience and confidence. “The people are anxious to see the children. They will wait. The ceremony won’t take long either.”

I’d laugh if we were there for five minutes after all this trouble.

“I know, but I simply can’t help it. The emotions come without call,” Mother sniffled.

Father wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “I’d help with Theo if I could.”

Mother laughed enough to calm her tears. Perhaps the gentle jostling woke Theo up enough, for he fed properly from there. I stole as many glances as possible out the curtained window, Great-Grandmother burping me giving a higher vantage, while the coach rolled along. Past the main gate of the courtyard, a transitory protective circle of grass and pathways hosting guard towers and barracks ringed the inner wall. The massive gate of the outer wall groaned open to give me my first glance of Sulien, the capital city.

A calm river offered something of a moat where a hefty bridge of golden-toned stone led us to the final barrier. More a formality, the iron gate and wall offered little blockage of the massive flood of bodies. A line of city guards neatly kept the citizens back from the road, this area an organized collection of multi-story buildings of dignified stature. Administration buildings? Nobles houses? My glances were meager. The silk curtain covering the window permitted nothing but a sliver of sight.

It was safe to say our coach was the highlight of the tiniest parade in the world. Energetic cheers and merry calls burst from the colorfully dressed populace heavily lining the way to the Grand Chapel. We split off onto a small path five minutes later where arching tree branches shadowed us from above as a viridian ocean. Men and women in red robes opened another gate welcoming us to the back gardens of a building certainly ostentatious enough to be the country’s main chapel, blurry as it was to me at this distance.

Mother let out a long breath of relief at Theo finishing in time to make herself proper when a redhead older guard opened the door. My brother got burped as we were ushered alongside the building to the front. The drenching buzz of crowded chatter reverberated louder and louder into the air as our group stopped behind a hedge wall blocking us from the lucky citizens who’d claimed a spot at the Grand Chapel courtyard. One of the women in red scurried placing leaf crowns upon each of our heads. Even with my arm and fingers that barely wanted to listen to me, I managed to swipe a leaf and be transfixed at its odd, shiny coloration morphing between deep garnet and amber gold with each small tilt.

“We’re sorry for the wait, Mother,” Father apologized as Grandmother Sidhana came over. Her dress of choice was multi-layered burgundy and bronze with sheer, gossamer sleeves.

“It is no worry. The crowd laughed when we explained a ceremony for four infants would happen on their schedule and no one else’s.”

“The children are set for now, but I can’t guarantee how long that will last,” Mother warned.

“We’ll start immediately then.”

Grandmother Sidhana disappeared around the hedge. Within seconds, dignified fanfare of trumpets and horns blared high to the gods and goddesses above. Heather started sniffling, but Theo’s eyelids dropped from the resounding lullaby.

An unfamiliar man’s voice boomed over the hushed crowd when the melody faded. The crowd laughed again at an opening joke of us children finding time to squeeze the event into our daily responsibilities. He talked briefly about the blessings of Iteus, the greatness of our family, and the hopeful future the country walked towards.

Then came another fanfare, smaller, to usher us out. Great-Grandfather carried me last in the little procession spilling us into the circular cobble courtyard surrounded by a garden lush with budding red flowers. In the center stood a massive tree with stretching branches drenched in fire. Or, in actuality, leaves the same as the crown on my head, which mimicked roaring flames. I swore a glowing ball of light hid within as gentle spokes of light trickled past the boughs.

To a podium in front of that tree we went with an unending crowd packed tightly before us. I assumed in the seated first rows were Solstice nobles or visiting dignitaries, but my vision blurred everyone into blobs.

The man speaking from before, the head priest if his intricate robes signified anything, motioned for my sister. Father handed Heather over.

“Born to the dawning light, Prince Eagan,” the priest and his unnaturally loud voice announced, his necklace glowing faintly, “and the light’s reply, Princess Renira, the first princess...Heather Vittoria of Solstice!”

The crowd cheered. Heather cried.

“Born to the dawning light, Prince Eagan, and the light’s reply, Princess Renira, the first prince...Theodorus Rannoch of Solstice!”

Theo, on the other hand, remained on the verge of sleep.

“Born to the dawning light, Prince Eagan, and the light’s reply, Princess Renira, the second prince...Lucian Groves of Solstice!”

I tried not to squirm as it was my turn to be passed to the head priest. He was holding us up like we were lion cubs at the edge of an elevated rock.

“Born to the dawning light, Prince Eagan, and the light’s reply, Princess Renira, the second princess...Evianna Emara of Solstice!”

The crowd cheered again. I sighed inside but figured I should make a good first impression. I smiled just a little.