There were so many. One after another, they arrived. I craned my neck to get a better look at the palace gate to see how many more carriages were arriving.

“Let me see, Ricky,” said Cena. “I can’t see.”

I moved to the side to let my sister move in front of me.

“Wow, are they all mortals?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Father said some are fae. Most are morals, though.”

“The carriages are so pretty,” she whispered. “Look, look at that one. The horses are gold.”

I nodded and watched the shimmering horses approach the front steps of the palace. It had to be some powder they rubbed into the fur. Their legs had some imperfections. We didn’t have anything that extravagant.

“Ricky.” She tapped my arm and pointed at the elaborate carriage being pulled by ten champagne-colored horses. “They’re gorgeous. Do you think Father would get me one if I asked?”

I shrugged. “I doubt it. We have plenty of horses, and he’s not one to buy one based on looks.”

Footsteps approached, and the door opened.

My father stepped inside. “Alric, Cena, get away from the window. We don’t need people noticing you gawking at them.”

I shuffled back as my sister sighed. 

“It’s the first time this many mortals have some to Thaloria,” she muttered, disappointed. “Is the banquet always like this?” She snuck another peek out the window. “We have nothing like this here.”

“It’s simply a display of wealth,” my father replied. “Some tend to get caught up in the performance.”

“Cena, Ricky,” called my mother. “Oh, there you are all. I thought I heard you.” She turned my chin from side to side. “Did you use the medicine?”

I nodded. “It’s fine. I told you it would heal.”

“Thank the gods for that.” She patted my cheek and glanced at my arm.

I turned my body to the side. My arm was still sore.

My mother scanned my father's appearance before looking at me. “Why is no one ready? The guests are waiting.”

“The children are staying here,” my father replied. “They can join us tomorrow at the garden party.”

Letting out a sigh, I glared at the wall.

“You should take Ricky,” said my mother.

“Alric,” stated my father.

“Yes,” she said sharply. “Ricky, your son. We are referring to the same person.”

“His name is Alric, and he will be presented to our guests as Alric.”

She shrugged, appearing unbothered. “And why would he not be presented by his name?”

Shaking his head, my father waved her off and turned to leave. “We are not discussing this again. Call him Alric. He’s too old for nicknames.”

“Too old,” she said, rolling her eyes. “When have you ever thought he was too old?” 

My mother approached me with her arms held out. I shuffled forward and hugged her.

“Are you excited?” She rubbed my back. “It’ll be your first time.”

“I’m only allowed to go because it’s being held here,” I muttered.

“Ricky.” She tucked my hair behind my ear. “You are of age. Despite what your father says, it’s only proper that you have a seat at the Grand Banquet.”

“He doesn’t think so.”

My mother leaned forward. “I don’t care what he thinks. Go and get ready. I left your clothes on your bed. I had them made for you for this exact moment.” She ran her hand down my arms. “Today is your grand debut as the Crown Prince of Thaloria.”

I mustered a smile. “Father—”

“Don’t worry about your father,” she said firmly. “I have handled the man for over a century. You are going.” She nodded. “Now go.” She spotted my sister. “Cena, get away from the window now.”

She hopped back.

“Mind your father, and don’t stare at our guests.” She grabbed my wrist and led me from the room. 

I followed behind her to my room. “What exactly happens tonight?”

“It’s a simple meal, Ricky. No one is going to make you give a speech,” she said, smirking over her shoulder.

“Father makes it sound like I have put on some grand performance.”

She stopped outside my bedroom door and looked me in the eyes. “You are old enough to see that we are not as wealthy as other kingdoms. The mortals use these events to flaunt their riches in hopes of stirring up jealousy. Your father won’t admit it, but he’d love to take part in frolicking about in pretentious carriages and painting our horses blue just to be different. It’s a waste. The gods don’t demand that we coat their temples in gold, so why do some do it to all of their possessions?”

“I suppose that is true.”

“You suppose?” she said with a smile. “I hope you don’t suppose you should listen to your mother.”

“Never,” I replied with a grin.

We entered the room. My mother went to gather the folded stack of clothes. She offered them to me. I ran my hand over the elaborate embroidered design of different shades of gold on a deep blue tunic.

“It’s beautiful.”

“I know.” She brushed her finger along the design. “I put the finishing touches on it.”

Sucking in my lips, I nodded. “I should have known. Thank you.” I kissed her cheek.

“Well, go on.” She waved me off. “I’ve waited long enough to see you in it.”

I stepped behind the changing curtain and removed my clothes. “I’m surprised I didn’t catch you embroidering it.”

“I was very careful.”

I could hear her wandering around the room as I finished getting dressed. I stepped out from behind the curtain and held out my arms. “So?”

She clasped her chest and moved closer. “It’s beautiful on you. The gold brings out the blue in your eyes.” She clasped my cheek. “The dark color brings attention to your face.” She brushed my long blonde hair over my shoulders.

“You put a lot of thought into this, didn’t you?”

“Too much,” she breathed. “I don’t want to give your father an excuse to ignore you. Twenty isn’t much for an eternal, but the mortals are married with one, maybe two children by eighteen. It’s your time.” My mother lifted her chin. “If we’re so desperate to outplay the mortals, why does he insist on hiding you away?” She paced the floor. “You’re his son, his heir. If he’s hoping for another, I won’t allow it. I gave him one, and until he appreciates him, Arkin doesn’t deserve another.” 

Picking up my overcoat, she held it up to me. “Come one. We’re not done yet.”

I slipped my arms into it. My mother adjusted how it lay before cinching the thick belt around my waist. She motioned to the vanity.

I sat on the stool and let out a sigh.

She grabbed my shoulders and rolled them back for me. “Sit straight. Never give them a reason to look down on you.”

“Being an elf is plenty,” I muttered.

She snatched my chin and turned my head. “The gods kissed your ancestors. Our people have been blessed with eternal life, while mortals are lucky to live for a hundred years. We stood tall while they knelt and kissed the god's feet.” She patted my cheek. “So roll your shoulders back.”

I did so and faced the mirror. 

She grabbed a small pair of scissors to cut the band out of my hair. “You’re ripping it out when you tie it so tight,” she said, dropping the string on the table.

“It keeps it in place. I’m considering cutting it—like Father's.”

“Cut it, and I’ll have it glued back onto your head with tree sap. I did not give birth to a mortal, and I don’t intend to let my son look like one.” She started brushing it out. “Your father can do as he pleases. He was raised in the lowlands surrounded by unkempt men. You clearly take after me. A highland eternal who won’t stoop to trying to appease others.” She placed her head next to mine. 

We looked at each other in the mirror.

“One day, I will take you north,” she whispered. “This kingdom is too young, so the elves here are too easily swayed. The northern eternal would never even think to cut off their hair and rub the shit on their faces in the hope they may grow a beard.”

I turned to her, confused. “Does he really?”

She smiled and used a comb to separate the hair on the crown of my head from the rest. “He’d never admit it, but I’ve seen plenty.”

I touched my jaw.

She secured the top portion and started braiding back the front portion on her side. She brought all the ends together and hid the string with a golden cusp with white gems embedded in it.

“Much better.”

I swallowed hard. 

My mother finished my outfit with a golden pendant and matching earrings. She secured the delicate chain that looped from near the point of my ear to the lobe. 

She smiled at me in the mirror. “I think you’re ready.”

“You’ve thought that for years.”

“Ricky.” Lifting me off the stool, my mother turned me to face her. “You are the Crown Prince of Thaloria. Say it.”

I sighed. My mother eyed me.

“I am the Crown Prince of Thaloria.”

“A prince,” she stated. “Not a duke or a lord; you are a prince. You are of noble birth. Most of the people here hold titles that are beneath you. Our kingdom may be young, but all, including the gods, recognize it. I will remind anyone who challenges that title.”

“Thank you.” I rested my head on her shoulder. Standing up straight, I let out a deep breath. “I feel like I might be able to do this,” I said with a laugh.

“You can do this. One day, you will be king. For an elf, it can be an eternity away, but one day, you will be one.” She nodded as she scanned my final appearance. “And I believe that day may be closer than we expect.”