Scarcely begun, and the festival’s already trouble.

“Look, Luci, you love me, right...?”

That question, when it was used to lead a conversation, was trouble. The girl asking it was the pure embodiment of trouble. She was a little less menacing than usual while pitifully dancing on her heels, shifting her bottomheavy figure back and forth. By contrast, her redheaded sister was a stone wall.

“Somehow, Mariasole.”

“So let me off the hook! Come on, it’ll take like five minutes. Ten, tops.”

The castle did have more bathrooms than the surrounding town, though not by much. It was even possible to catch one free if the stars aligned. They could sneak out, get Mariasole taken care of. Lucianne wasn’t going to deny that she could use a restroom break, too, before the start of the festival. It would be pragmatic.

Today wasn’t a day for pragmatism, though, and certain things weren’t done.

“We must prepare our minds, bodies, and hearts to lead the nation, Maria. This ritual has been passed down to us for a dozen generations of the royal family.” Lucianne could see how convincing that wasn’t, written on Mariasole’s ****, pale, outraged sweaty visage.

“You’re gonna be the one leading things! It’s been made clear to me for years that I fucking… I’m just the spare!” Being drunk wasn’t affecting Mariasole’s judgment much, since she wasn’t born with any. She wasn’t wrong that she’d been the odd one out, and their parents hadn’t even planned for her, but having it rough didn’t excuse bad behavior.

No, it was all the more important for a person in bad circumstances to make the best of it, and demonstrate to the great god Sol that they were strong. That they could endure. Maybe it was easier for Lucianne to refuse, because she only had that most basic of physical reactions telling her ‘I should find a bathroom soon’. Whereas Mariasole was past that, and on to internal screaming, and soon probably crying like a little baby about it. In fact, tears could be seen welling up in her eyes.

An old trick by her little sister, and one that would get Mariasole nowhere.

They’d moved this conversation out of the public eye, mostly by the huge-assed blonde getting dragged by her ear. Now, the two of them were alone, and the temptation was there. Lucianne always believed you were what you did in the dark, when nobody was watching.

So for the hours of the festival, it was her sacred duty to keep a very close watch on Mariasole, and ensure she didn’t make a dash for the restroom.

Thereby necessitating, of course, that she couldn’t take the time to get one herself. It made it easier, and allowed the stoic battle maiden to convince herself that she had **** in the matter. She was stone, a statue. She was part of the castle itself, and cobblestone didn’t need to pee.

When night fell, it was impossible to tell in Antioch, for everywhere was lit.

Most of all in the castle grounds, on which an enormous track was laid across the outer wall facing down towards the city. Upon the track was piled flammable liquids and materials, detritus that would serve its purpose well once ignited. From the spark of Lucianne’s high-heeled steel, and to the roaring applause of troops and ministers gathered in the castle courtyard, the fire rose. In a line, going up, and then, for just a moment, it appeared as though the entire outer wall was aflame.

Just within the tracks, though. It was still an impressive fire, and from the perspective of the townsfolk, it would appear as though the mighty Phoenix, prophet of the sun god himself, had come back to bless them in the spirit of rebirth.

Standing beside her, greeting the high dignitaries of the empire, was Mariasole, who had obediently put on her holy head-dress and regalia of state. Though she took being denied poorly on any day, and those bright yellow eyes shot daggers towards her sister. She had nothing but smiles for the generals and staff, even if she scoffed behind their backs for being so puffed-up and prideful.

Lucianne, on the other hand, dealt with everything by charging into it, and that included people. She took them at face value, and had been in awe as a child of the high ministers and decorated generals of Antioch. Even now, she held some deep, profound respect for them that they could see conveyed in the way she acted. She was the crown princess, but nobody was expected to bow and scrape for her.

This difference in respect was also reflected in the drinks both ladies were given.

Oh, yes, in some ways the most relevant part of this celebration of light and life. A ritual so embedded into culture that to even question it was impossible; even as Mariasole hated it, she could find no reason it would ever not be this way.

For during the two business weeks of the festival, a princess could not refuse any drink that was offered to them, by anyone, from the lowliest serf upwards.

The party started that night, and so did the offering of drinks. Though as mentioned, the way they’d treated the courtiers and ministers who ran their government changed the offers considerably. Lucianne was cordially offered a mug of beer in friendship by the generals, and clinked glass against theirs in hopes for Antioch’s further victory.

Mariasole was approached by the maids, who humbly made her the same ‘offer’ they’d gotten many times in other parts of the year. A barrel, an entire barrel, of the palace’s best wine. Antioch-brewed, and well-aged in barrels cut from the Hollyhock Woods to the west. In fact, as the barrel was emblazoned and could just be made out, it was about fifty years old.

Faced down with wine twice her seniority, Mariasole tired to run, but the palace guards got her sorted out, and held her in place as the first fancy wine-glass was brought to her lips.

The soldiers around here had fared little better under that sharp tongue, which was now **** to reckon with the explosion of fanciful flavor and rich bouquet of the royal wine. Certainly there remained at least a hint of grapes they had once, half a century ago, been, but the sweetness and pungency combined, assailing different parts of her taste buds.

It all went down nice and smooth, gulp after gulp, while Lucianne watched on.

Perhaps this would be a lesson in responsibility~