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“You look fine.” Ozpin leans forward and whispers in Oscar’s ear. “Stop fidgeting.”
“Sorry.” Oscar looks down at his boots. He resists the urge to straighten their laces yet another time. “I guess I’m still not used to all of this.” Oscar gestures to the throne room around them.
Thankfully Vale’s isn’t as lavish as Mistral or Atlas’s, but it’s still an imposing room. Oscar may not have been a shepherd before his princehood, but he knows enough about the textile industry to recognize the top quality threads and dies the tapestries covering the walls are made of. Hours of work must have gone into their creation. He and his aunt could have never afforded such luxuries, or even saved up for any. The little money they had was better spent on thick, wool blankets to help keep the freezing cold of winter at bay.
Oscar’s thoughts linger on his aunt. He hopes she’s alright. Although he’s been reassured that, as family of the Prince Apprentice to the King, she’ll be well taken care of by the Crown itself in his absence, he can’t help but worry. She’s been getting older in recent years. Her joints have been giving her more and more aches and pains as time goes by. Oscar knows the healers Ozpin sent to her are some of the best in all the kingdom, but his aunt is very particular about taking her meds. That and the newly hired workers don’t know the quirks of the farm like he does.
He just, he can’t help but worry that, without him there, things will fall apart, okay?
Plus, Oscar’s not really—well, he supposes he is, according to Ozpin—meant for this whole royalty thing. He’s not of noble birth. He’s fairly certain he doesn’t have any especially regal attributes. He’s just a farm boy, who came to the aid of a man who happened to be the king, when he saw a Grimm attacking him.
That says less about Oscar’s capacity to rule and more about his mentor’s recklessness, in his personal opinion. Not that anyone’s asked for Oscar’s personal opinion specifically, or that he’d actually tell them if he did. Oscar may find many, many things about how his mentor goes about his business questionable, but he knows enough about politics to not blurt that out in front of the entire court.
The throne room doors creak open, preventing Oscar from getting lost further in his thoughts. He straightens himself, even though his posture is already impeccable. In his defense, everything his teachers told him in preparation for this moment have led him to believe greeting these guests will be the most difficult out of any.
“Announcing General James Ironwood of Atlas, Lady Robyn Hill of Mantle, and the Delegation of the Kingdoms of the North.” Having accomplished his duty, the attendant steps back and lets the guests enter.
General Ironwood pauses just inside the room and inspects his surroundings with a critical eye. Lady Hill steps forward, in front of Ironwood, and begins her approach to the throne. Oscar hears Ozpin inhale a sharp breath and then release it when there’s no protest from Ironwood about the order in which they’ll present themselves to Vale.
Although technically sister kingdoms, due to their close proximity to each other and the fact that Atlas grew out of Mantle, there has been conflict between Atlas and Mantle for years now. Ozpin invited both to the festivities surrounding Oscar’s ascent into princehood to avoid being perceived as favoring one over the other, but no one expects the Northern Kingdoms’ leaders to get along, or even attempt a show at it while they’re in Vale.
Lady Hill stops a respectful distance from the thrones. She opens her mouth to begin her introduction and—
“SALUTATIONS!”
There’s a green and orange blur. Then there’s a girl. Standing before Oscar and Ozpin, having darted in front of Lady Hill at what cannot possibly be a speed humans are capable of. If he wasn’t already looking in that direction, Oscar would miss the tiniest of grins as it flashes over Lady Hill’s face.
The girl notices everyone staring at her. “Sorry, was I not supposed to do that? I’m just so excited to finally be here in Vale!” She emphasizes her point with a little hop. “I’ve never been to another kingdom before. It’s so exciting!” The girl turns to Ozpin and Oscar, her curly, orange hair flopping against her back as she does so. “Your majesty.” The girl makes an attempt at the Royal Bow For Kings, and gets it about half right. Then she turns her attention to Oscar. “And you must be Prince Oscar!” Before he realizes what she’s doing, the girl has grabbed Oscar’s hand and kissed the back of it.
The kiss gives Oscar a warm, tingling sensation. His mind goes utterly blank as he considers it. No one, and he’s met quite a few reverential crown loyalists, has ever kissed his hand like that before. Or at all. It’s odd and nice all at the same time, and…
Ozpin coughs politely. “Ms. Polendina, how nice it is to see you again. I trust your father is well?”
“Yes, sir,” she replies cheerily. “He wishes he could make the journey, but with his health, you understand.”
“Of course.” Ozpin nods. “Oscar,” he addresses his still somewhat shocked prince. “I would like you to meet Ms. Penny Polendina. Penny, well, you clearly know who Oscar is already. Perhaps the two of you could get to know each other better in the coming days. You’ll find you’ll have a lot in common, I think.”
And just like that, what was going to be yet another tedious, boring Royal Duty becomes something far more exciting. Oscar looks at Penny, at the way her green eyes sparkle with excitement, and what can be considered a small, quiet crush blossoms in his chest.
Without really thinking about it, Oscar reaches forward, takes Penny’s hand in his own, and gently presses his lips to its back. He lingers a second, because his mind gets wrapped up in the wonderful, flowery scent of her perfume and he loses focus. Oscar remembers himself and scrambled back up. Penny giggles. He smiles at her.
“I would be delighted to get to know you better, Penny.” Oscar hopes he sounds princely, but feels like he probably doesn’t.
“Likewise.” Penny says in a similar manner, but in a telling way that reveals she’s only pretending, like him, to really care about the pomp and circumstance surrounding them.
Ozpin clears his throat again, signalling that they do have duties to attend to, but Oscar finds he isn’t as nervous anymore. Penny’s abrupt entrance seemed to have scared all his anxieties off and they haven’t returned.