Introducing Princess Matil-Whoops There She Goes

You and the others wait for the princess's entrance, and then continue to wait. And wait a bit more. At length, the red-faced herald coughs into his hand and leans slightly towards the hallway, whispering something quietly just past the open archway. You watch with raised eyebrows as a pale yellow head hesitantly peeks over the wall, and then out shuffles the terribly shy princess. The herald straightens, eager to brush over the rough start.

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Matilda!"

The princess flinches a bit at the booming introduction, then swallows and fidgets with her skirts as she looks down at her awaiting suitors. Her features are delicate and very pretty, with a button nose and flawless, creamy skin. Her ash blonde hair is very long and perfectly straight, reaching to her waist in the back with a straight fringe in front that comes close to covering her big chocolate-colored eyes. Beardy's assessment wasn't wrong, but he was pretty damn uncharitable; the princess's figure is definitely slight but she would be the very picture of grace and elegance if she wasn't so flustered, her shoulders hunched as she shifts around in a poofy dress that while lovely, would be more suited to a twelve year old than a grown woman. She's even a good bit taller than you'd imagined, perhaps three or so inches short than Roan who's pushing six foot. God does she remind you of a skittish fawn.

Princess Matilda swallows, then begins to haltingly say something. You say "something", because she's still standing at the very top of the stairs and seems either unable or unwilling to speak in anything louder than a soft whisper. Her herald, red-faced again, coughs insistently, then indicates further down the stairway with his head when Matilda nervously glances his way. The shy princess nods shakily, visibly plucks up her courage....and then takes one careful step down the enormous staircase and begins trying to whisper her greetings again.

You glance over at Beardy and the other princes, who seem to be unsure of whether they should find this embarrassing, or hilarious, or terribly painful. You manage to catch Beardy's eye, who seems to be taking all of this with a sense of expectancy, and nod your head towards the stairs. He rolls his eyes, but nevertheless nods back before the two of you begin climbing the stairs to meet the princess halfway. Matilda gives a start as she sees a pair of princes ascending towards her, the rest of the horde of suitors scrambling up behind them, the girl looking for a moment as if she'd like to pick up skirts and flee. At length, though, she seems to resolve herself and clasps her hands before her waist. Now that you're closer, you're sure of it. Despite clear attempts to infantilize her, Princess Matilda is quite the beautiful woman.

Matilda gives your group of princes, now perched a few steps below her, a nervous little smile, and when she attempts her greeting again her quiet, breathy voice is actually audible. "I, um, that is we are so very pleased you've all come for my, um, rather our Birthday Feast, and I, ah! I mean, er, WE mean...." The princess's hard won courage visibly drains away. ".........the feast is at seven." She looks desperately over at the herald and before he has halfway finished nodding she has scampered off, leaving behind several quite befuddled suitors.

Huh.

Beardy is the first to speak up as you all make our way down the staircase. "Well, wasn't I right? Like a board shoved into a gown. Not to mention..." he taps the side of his head, which you guess is his way of saying the princess is an airhead. He looks for approval from the other princes, continuing on when a few of them nod in agreement. "Well, we knew the job was dangerous when we took it. Worst case it's a free feast, then a ride to the next fucking castle and the next goddamn princess." The other suitors mumble their assent as the group breaks up, everyone heading off to prepare for the feast.

Well shit, who are these assholes, that they're such prizes? Besides, you know, literal princes? You found Princess Matilda perfectly charming, if not exactly the most gifted orator. Or, uh, standing-in-the-presence-of-others-er. You've been on the fence about this whole matter for a while; do you really want to do something just because it's the only clear path the universe has set before you? But now you're much more inclined to see the princess's wooing through to the end. You should see what Roan thinks.

You don't have to wonder for long, because your valet darts up to you with a speed belied by her gravid form. Her hands are clutched to her breasts, eyes wide and quivering as she gives you a weapons-grade puppy dog look. Oh God it's so powerful. She throws her arms around you, burying her face in your chest as she croons. "The princess is sooooo cuuuuute~!"

Well. That settles that.