It only took a few minutes for Ifanthien to get ready. As he stood in front of the antique mirror carved in spirals and twirls covered by a light gold shimmering dye in his room, the Elf Prince was doing a final check-up to make sure he was presentable for the hundreds of guests that were already waiting for the royal family to arrive. He had chosen to wear his high collar silk white tunic with dark blue accents at the neck and sleeves. On top of it, he added a royal blue coat robe with silver embroideries all over that was fastened with silver buttons up to his collar bones and opened to his waist. He opted to wear a darker shade of blue pants to contrast with his coat. Finally, he wore knee-high black leather boots that had bright silver hoops to attach the bootlaces.

Ifan didn’t wear any jewelry except for the necklace his little sister gave him for his 107th birthday only two months ago. It was a light orange crystal in a long diamond shape that was attached to a fine steel chain on his neck. Ifan would never forget the wide smile Ilithya had on her sweet face when she held up the necklace high to him. She had been so proud of herself to have found a gemstone that had the exact same orange sunset shade as his eyes.

“She chose it herself,” his mother had told him. “She even told the jeweler how she wanted him to carve and shape it.” She had added, thrilled that her daughter did everything by herself.

Ilithya was a shy child, but she was clever for her age, and whenever she would want something done in a specific way, she would speak up, making sure everyone would hear what she had to say.

Ifanthien took some more time to appreciate the beautiful rune engraving in the jewel. From afar, it was impossible to see them, but close, the Elf Prince could perceive all the intricate swirls of the runes. The translucent stone had an enchantment on it, but he wasn’t really sure what it was as his little sister only said something like “good luck charm”. Nevertheless, he still adored her gift as he always had it on him and rarely removed it.

Usually, he would tuck the necklace under his shirt, but he wanted to show it tonight. Plus, showing it off will make Ilithya happy. A servant had come behind him, making a loose braid of his tailbone length untamed silky hair. He always kept his curly fringe parted on the left side of his diamond-shaped face as it complemented his abnormally perfect pale skin features. The maid just finished his hairstyle and handed the Elf Prince the heir’s crown.

It was a simple laurel-like crown with silver steel working swirl designs. Ifan took the crown and stared at it for a moment. He was the crown Prince of the Soveryn Elves. His father had chosen him, the second-born, instead of his firstborn, Athelan, an excellent war tactician and respected from all on top of that, to rule the kingdom. And to add to all of that, Ifan didn’t have any magic abilities like other Elves. He was born of Wizard’s parents and ended up magicless. This had brought him some unpleasant remarks from the other nobles of the royal court as it was almost considered an insult that a royal member of the family didn’t have any magic. Worse, he was even chosen as the crown Prince. Most of the noble families were outraged and it had created a scandal in the kingdom for a while before things would finally calm down.   

He never really understood why and King Ulthien Lurandin would never speak of it whenever Ifan dared to ask why. His father only told him that he had his reasons and it was pretty much the end of the discussion after that. Even his training as heir was strange to the Elf Prince. Ifan was learning the usual heir’s duty such as how to rule a kingdom, politics, economy, although only a little of the military. However, his father also made him drink huge amounts of alcohol to be able to resist its effects. His father would say that ill-intended people will try to intoxicate him to get information or anything from him, so he had to resist its effects.

He also made him meditate for long hours, sometimes even days as his father told him it was to sharpen his mind and help him keep his composure in trying situations. His aunt, his mother’s sister Lady Mariuien, was always there for his unusual training, and Ifan never understood why as she simply stood there, observing him with her piercing violet gaze. She almost seemed to be waiting for him to do… something. But Lady Mariuien was also a renowned Master Aracane Wizard. It was also said that her odd calmness was what made her so strong. Ifan only thought that this was why his father invited her to their meditation sessions.

Nevertheless, even if Ifan didn’t want to be King and deeply believed his older brother would be a better fit for the role, he had accepted his father’s decision as he respected and trusted his judgment. He might not have clear answers as to why his father chose him, but he might see something in him Ifan couldn’t…

 He stared a little more at the heir’s crown before finally putting it on his head and looked at himself in the reflecting glass for a moment. His thoughts were suddenly disturbed by a knock on the door.

“My Lord, may I enter?” the voice on the other side of his chambers’ double doors called out. The Elf Prince grew a smile on his face as he recognized the voice of his best friend.  

“You may,” Ifan said.

The Elf Prince turned his head to look at his friend as he entered the room. Orian was now a royal guard, and even though he was not nobility, Ifan considered him his equal. They grew up together and he never saw him as a low class or anything. Orian and he would play all the time, and as they grew older, his best friend decided to enter the royal guards and had left for decades to train to become one. Orian’s father worked in the castle as a stableman. His choice of becoming a royal knight despite his rank in society brought him many darted looks and judgmental glares. A thing they had in common; being scorned for being out of the norm according to society. But Ifan made sure Orian got a place in the royal army. He would do anything to help his friend achieve his goals.

Orian had come back from his training right after his birthday two months ago. Even though they haven’t seen each other for some years, Ifan thought that he hadn’t changed that much. He was tall and slim, he still had his straight almost spiked ashy hair, although this time, they were longer and tied into a low ponytail. However, he still wore the same brooding look on his face. The only thing that really changed was his outfit as he now wore a beautiful white silvery rune engraved plate armor of the royal guard instead of his ragged stable boy clothing.

As Orian was approaching the Elf Prince, a hand resting on the hilt of his rapier sword at his right flank, he whistled, looking up and down at him with his light grey eyes. “Well, his majesty sure looks quite proper tonight, I must say.” Orian grinned. Clearly, he was making fun of Ifan.

“By the Gods! I hate it when you call me his majesty!” Ifan complained.

“You see, Ifan, that’s exactly why I call you that. Because you hate it.” He chuckled teasingly at his friend. “Anyway, you sure are well dressed for tonight. Maybe a tad too much. But hey, who am I to know how a crown Prince should dress.” He shrugged, still smirking at Ifan as he knew the Elf Prince hated having to wear flashy apparel to distinguish himself from the others. But it was tradition and Ifan had to respect that.

“Stop making fun of me. I have to take care of my appearances according to Athelan.” The Elf Prince retorted, adjusting the crown on his head.

“Taking care of your appearances?” his best friend repeated, amused. “You, of all people, really don’t need to.” He snorted. “You already look nice. Just look at all the women that court you! I’m pretty sure the ladies would find you attractive even if you rolled yourself in horse’s shit!” he added, laughing.

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Very funny, Orian.” Ifan said, unamused, but a faint smile could be seen creeping on the corner of his lips.

“Seriously. I’m always wondering why you aren’t engaged or married yet! You have so many suitors that are eager to become the woman of your heart!” his best friend mockingly said as he held his hands together up near his face, his lips in a kissing shape. "Surely, your Soulmate is one of them!"

“Stop that, you look ridiculous!” Ifan chuckled.

“Well, if you could find your future Soulmate-Queen fast, I would finally have a chance to talk to a woman without being asked, “where is Lord Ifanthien?” he said in a high-pitched tone, imitating a woman’s voice. “You know, I’m kind of always in the shadows of your bright beauty so they only see you!’’ Orian whined, making a desperate expression.

“Nonsense, Orian. You are looking as fine as me. I’m sure you’ll find a pretty noblewoman that will accept your horrible humor and awful fashion sense… someday.” the Elf Prince teased. “Besides, I’m not really interested in that for now. Honestly, I would rather wait for the right person, for my Soulmate. I don’t want to get involved with someone if I don’t feel anything.” he added, a faint smile on his lips.

Orian sighed deeply. “Yep. I’m going to die alone.”

The two friends laughed for a moment. Ifan was glad to have his best friend back by his side again. He missed those moments where Orian was being, well, Orian. His friend was the only one that was honest with him as he didn’t only see him as the Crown Prince but as a friend. Those years without his support and, dare he thought, his dreadful jokes and comments, had been challenging for Ifan. He had trained almost every day with his father in order to become a good King and supported the unpleasant comments thrown at him by the nobles.

Whenever he wasn’t with his strict teaching father, he was learning and reading books on how a kingdom works with the Ancient scholars of the royal council. Those old Elves were so very boring and Ifan had some hard time keeping up with their endless babbling on how great the world was back in their days. But the Elf Prince still took his training seriously and he didn’t want to disappoint his parents. He also studied thoroughly as he wanted to impress Athelan. Ifan looked up to his older brother and he sometimes wished he could be like him, having his charms, wits, and… magic abilities…

Orian was still chuckling a little. “You’ve always been a big romantic. I guess it’s a good thing you haven’t found your Soulmate among all those charming noble ladies.” He scoffed as Ifan's cheeks became pink. “Shall we go, now? The Queen is waiting for you and she looks pissed off.” Orian said with a smirk as he turned towards the doors to open them for Ifan. “Not to mention that the King was very unhappy before I left to come and get you.” He added, grabbing the lever handle on the door.

A slight shiver coursed through Ifan’s back at the mention of his displeased father. He will clearly scold him for being late. “Splendid! Now I’ll have to deal not only with the outrageous number of women that want to steal my heart but with my mother too.” He sighed. “And I’ll certainly get scolded again by my father. I cannot wait.’’ Ifan whined.

“Well, I can always help you with the ladies, but your mother is too scary. You’re on your own with her!” his best friend said as he sniggered.

“I very much appreciate your support, Orian.” Ifan chuckled. “In my opinion, you’ll be dealing with way worse than my mother with those noble ladies.” He brought a hand near his mouth, letting out a peal of laughter. “Believe me, those women, no matter how beautiful or well behaved they are, are absolutely terrifying at times.”

Orian puffed with laughter and shook his head in disbelief. “You complain when you have all those pretty women around you. I can’t understand that. You’re so weird, Ifan.” He held the door for Ifan to go through it. “We should get going now. The Queen will have my head if I don’t bring you to them soon.” He shivered, probably at the thought of Ifan’s mother scolding him with her imperious tone.

“Yes, we shall.” Ifan agreed as he walked through the doorway, Orian following right after him.