Chapter 12: Sunrise

Melia woke up quite suddenly. She glanced at the clock to find it was quarter to six - too early to do anything, but probably too late to bother going back to sleep. She tried to remember the dream she was having; it had something to do with waking up a full thirty centimetres taller, only to find that everyone else was only half the height they should have been. It was both fascinating and spooky.

It took her a few seconds more to remember what the date was: 22 February Sorean 7, her seventy-fifth birthday, a date she had dreaded for many years.

High Entia society divided life into four very distinct blocks: "infancy", "childhood", "adolescence", and "adulthood". Each of the three underaged periods were exactly twenty-five years long, with the matching birthdays doubling as ceremonies to mark the hard-edged divisions of treatment of the person. It was much cleaner and less barbaric than the single ancient royal coming-of-age ceremony - which involved leaving the person alone in Satorl Marsh and waiting for them to return home - but when faced with a third birthday involving an instant change in the quality and content of her life, Melia almost would have preferred the trial.

Looking back at the clock just to confirm that she had more than an hour to stew in anticipation, Melia naturally started thinking about her previous two period-spanning birthdays. The memories of her twenty-fifth were hazy, the clearest ones mostly consisting of being derided for acting babyish, and learning that her schooling was to begin the next day, which turned out to be an unpleasant experience due to its suddenness. Her fiftieth birthday was also not a very happy memory, involving a massive shift in how she was expected to act just before the dinner began, in addition to several embarrassing presents relating to the uncertainty over whether certain aspects of her puberty would be primarily High Entia or Homs.

There is no doubt that this birthday ceremony will be at least equally disruptive to my life, she reasoned. Even discounting the past two such major ceremonies, no one seems to learn that sudden, uninvited change for no apparent advantage is inherently a bad thing. Gradual change is far more tolerable.

She looked at the clock again, as if hoping to suddenly find it advanced by an hour, when an idea struck.

I'm going to go watch the sunrise.

Melia had never slept in a room with a sun-facing window, nor had the opportunity to be near one or outside the palace in the early morning. She had seen multiple sunsets in her life, but never a sunrise, and this was the perfect opportunity.

Excited to do something rebellious on the day where she was supposed to magically lose all rebellious behaviour, Melia scrambled into the wardrobe and eventually into the vent, before firing herself across the city towards Contemplation Park. Arriving in a tool shed next to the fountain, she carefully pushed open the door to look around.

Contemplation Park was a medium-sized patch of greenery currently on the sun-facing side of Alcamoth, featuring a dozen colourful flowerbeds and a six-nozzled fountain in the centre. Not a soul could be seen.

Careful to stick a loose branch into the shed door to ensure she could re-enter, Melia selected a park bench to sit on before realising she had not changed out of her lavender nightgown. Oh well, it makes no difference. It's just a bit chilly, that's all. She looked up into the sky where the sun was set to appear in the next ten minutes.

It was not very well understood at all how the sun worked, and any attempts to find out were thwarted by its extreme heat by day and its invisibility by night. But it was very well-behaved, with more precise waking and sleeping times than any other natural object aside from the moon. In February and March, it would always "rise" at exactly six in the morning and "set" at six in the evening, seemingly fading in and out of existence.

Melia's eyes travelled back and forth between the sun's appearance location, the clock displayed on the Chozo interface, and the park entrance, hoping that no other early risers had the same plans as her. She wasn't expected to be awake until seven-thirty, but she figured there would be park-goers earlier than that, and so reasoned that she might as well return to her room immediately afterwards.

The sky slowly turned brighter, acting independently of the sun, its mechanics equally predictable and mysterious. Several bird species were heard chirping in the trees. Melia kept one eye on the clock and the other in the sky.

Three...two...one...

A white spark appeared for a split second, before vanishing and subsequently being replaced by a ring of fire, drawn in the sky as if by an invisible artist's brush. The ring's interior started emitting a soft red glow, creating the impression of a giant red disc in the sky, before accelerating through orange and yellow to reach a blinding white, like a giant spotlight had been turned on. The spectacle lasted only a few seconds, but it was far more impressive than a sunset.

Melia simply sat and stared around the park for a few minutes, no longer wishing for time to hurry up.

The first change to Melia's life manifested itself a bit earlier than she expected, before even the eight o'clock breakfast: everyone in the palace that she passed by called her "Lady Melia" instead of "Princess Melia". She was not quite sure what to make of this; she identified as a princess more than a lady, and the new term felt far more generic. Still, as changes go, this is probably the least-upsetting one I will see today.

"Happy birthday, Melia." Kallian popped into the dining hall with a large smile on his face. "How are things today?"

"Fine." Melia saw no reason to stir the pot, sensing that her brother was about to relay information, and simply went right back to her fruit.

"Good. The Emperor has requested I tell you that the banquet hall is off-limits, for obvious reasons. In addition, the first event of the day will occur at ten o'clock, so be ready in the entrance hall to leave the palace by nine-thirty."

Ugh. Melia nodded, hiding her disgust. She wasn't told anything about the day's schedule other than when to get up by, something that was clearly supposed to increase anticipation but in reality just aggravated her. She was wired to run on pre-determined schedules.

Kallian's smile faded a bit; he could sense something was amiss. "You haven't been looking forward to this day, have you?"

Melia was a little surprised that Kallian appeared to care; sure, he would sometimes try to make unwanted things better for her, but she figured this would be mandated to stop upon adulthood. "I do not appreciate having a day so filled with change at an arbitrary age."

"Well, look at it this way: Would you rather have the changes spread out across multiple days, or all at once and get it over with?"

Melia looked back down at her food. I would rather people realise that the changes themselves are unnecessary.

Kallian sat down at the table. "You are already a mature and responsible young lady, far more so than I was at your age. There may be less change in store than you expect."

"Oh? And how exactly were you less mature than I?"

Kallian chuckled, seeing a chance to lighten Melia's mood. "You were far too young to know me as an adolescent. Even the week before my adulthood birthday, I found myself in trouble for destroying a flowerbed in the courtyard while playing football. Tasked with helping the gardeners recreate it, I attempted to inscribe a rude word in a daisy patch with tulips." He chuckled again. "Father was very upset and spent about twenty minutes lecturing me."

Melia was unsure whether she was supposed to laugh or not. It was indeed a funny story, but at the same time it really wasn't funny at all. She tried to compromise by smiling, but only managed a few twitchy lip movements.

Sighing in defeat, Kallian stood up. "If nothing else, know that Father already considers your behaviour quite acceptable for an adult. I would not expect much change in that department." He made to leave. "Oh, and you are still to wear your public headdress outside the palace, so you may continue to pass incognito during excursions. I will see you later."

...Really? If there was one thing she was certain of being changed this day, it was being unmasked as a royal. She was actually looking forward to being able to ditch the mask, but was equally reluctant to lose the power of anonymity. I suppose that's one change I won't have to deal with for a while longer.

The first event on the schedule wound up being a performance at the Weisterland Concert Hall. It was not planned as part of the birthday festivities - it simply happened to be scheduled at a convenient time, so it was worked in. Melia approved of this kind of thinking, synergising with existing events rather than using royal influence and lavish spending to create new ones on a whim.

The rest of the morning was less enjoyable. A stage had been set up in the palace courtyard for various celebrities and other high-profile people to participate in gifting, with the public watching from beyond a cordon. Melia figured ingratiation was the main motivator of most of the guests, since pretty much all the gifts were over-expensive trinkets of no real purpose. The few artists were the most interesting, presenting her with intricate landscape works, but it still wasn't really anything she hadn't seen before.

Lunch was held in the courtyard immediately afterwards, and appeared to consist of the entirety of the kitchens. Stuck with several dozen famous people and gossips staring at her, Melia was forced to awkwardly slide her fork under her mask to eat, and had an incredibly hard time trying to drink anything. Only Kallian seemed to notice, and all he could do was make a face that suggested "sorry but I can't really help".

After lunch came the parade. Bands, dancers, jugglers, elemental artists, every performance art that existed seemed to be represented. Melia tried very hard to keep attentive, not wanting to waste everyone's preparations, but still ended up in a muddy haze by the time it had concluded and could only recall about a quarter of what had been presented. Her early-morning excursion was coming back to bite her.

By the time the royal family returned to the palace, it was two-thirty.

Sorean turned to Melia. "Now, it is your turn. Is there anything you wish to partake in for the next few hours?"

Melia did not expect to be given any decisions. She started considering her options, but her tired mind immediately stomped out the thought. "I wish to take a rest."

"By all means. Simply ensure you are ready and present at the banquet hall for six o'clock."

Not waiting for any further comment, Melia began scampering off to her chambers. She hadn't realised how tired she was until asked what she wanted to do. Fumbling with the door, she slumped into bed and fell asleep instantly.

It turned out that Melia was even more tired than she thought she was, and remained dreamlessly dead to the world until five o'clock, the longest nap she'd had in half a century. Upon waking up she was quite confused, thinking it was morning yet seeing sunset orange sky outside, before remembering most of the day had already passed and she had somewhere to be in about an hour.

I must look awful. Sleeping during the day never agrees with my appearance.

Still a bit groggy, Melia changed into her bathrobe, entered the bathroom, and started unbraiding her hair. Normally she would only re-braid it once a week, but figured that it would be a good idea to do so now; Yumea would always gripe at her appearance during major banquets and the like, and she wanted to provide the least ammunition.

Finishing up the re-braid after a shower, Melia exited the bathroom to see the clock reading five-thirty. Good, that leaves ample time to choose... The thought trailed off as she spotted a dark fabric mass beside her bed, suspended in the air by a levitation hanger.

Is...is this supposed to be a dress? Melia tugged at the fabric, disconnecting the dress from the hanger and dropping it into her hands. Strapless and backless, it was a midnight purple with golden trimming and a complex lavender design traced across the waistband and bottom edge of the large flowing gown. This fabric is unsettlingly thin. And where is the rest of the top half? There is no way this meager offering can provide sufficient coverage, let alone support. Who is the fool that gave this the figurative stamp of approval? She couldn't say she was surprised to be told what to wear to the banquet - the clothes she had been wearing earlier had also been removed from the room - but she did not expect it to be something both new and unacceptably revealing. With a few moments more reflection, she concluded that while it made sense that "the child princess shall bare no skin" would no longer hold as an adult, it was still maddening for the tailors to seemingly assume she was desperate to escape the decree.

Dismissively tossing the dress onto the bed, Melia spotted a pair of golden pumps placed beside her desk, with a pair of wrist-length gloves on the chair and what looked to be a jewelry box on the desk itself. They can't even get the gloves right? Should it not be obvious that all of my gloves are of at least elbow length? She was starting to get rather upset at the apparent lack of care for her preferences.

Well, I suppose I should at least try this thing on. It took her about five minutes to manipulate the dress into the proper position on her body. The waistband ended up feeling uncomfortably tight, and while the chestpiece latched onto her skin disturbingly well and ended up with more coverage than she initially suspected, it still felt like she was missing half of it.

I will NOT be going out there half-naked like this. I must have an overcoat that matches this reasonably well. With two or three candidates in mind, Melia sourly stepped to the wardrobe and opened the door.

The wardrobe was empty. Save for the suitcases in the corner, it was a clean slate, with not a single article of clothing present.

It took a few moments to process what she was seeing. Once the realisation was complete, she became quite angry at the amount of disrespect she felt she was being shown, and stormed over to her Practice Staff to fire a whole dozen imaginary bolts out of it.

After stomping around stewing for another several minutes, Melia listlessly dumped the provided jewelry box out onto the bed, trying to find something half-decent.

Too large. Tacky. Ugly. Even tackier, somehow. All metal no jewels. Also too large. What is this even supposed to be? She pulled out a mass of jewels linked together in a series of chains that would reach down to her knees if she wore it as a necklace.

Her anger and indignance boiled over.

No, I've had it. They think they know what I want? They think they can turn MY birthday, my LAST TWO-DIGIT BIRTHDAY, into some sort of adults-only dinner party with me as the trophy centerpiece? I'll show them.

She violently jammed the pumps onto her feet and stormed towards the door. Dress and shoes, that's all you're getting. No necklace, no headdress, no rings, no bag, no gloves, no make-up, NOTHING!

Melia blasted open the bedroom door with a mighty kick and started stomping towards the banquet hall, not even looking to see if there was an escort waiting for her. You think you can dress me up like a bimbo and I won't care? You think my birthday is just an excuse to waste money and socialise?

Continuously mentally ranting while thundering down the corridors, it took until almost arriving at her destination to notice that she had not seen a single other person anywhere in the palace since she left her room. It was such an unusual realisation that she was stunned out of her raging trance.

Where is everyone? Considering the distance I've travelled, I should have seen at least twelve guards by now. The anger returned, though in a more controlled fashion. How could they all abandon their posts just to attend a birthday feast? Irresponsible, the lot of them. I'll see if I can't give them a piece of my mind.

Melia finally reached the entrance to the banquet hall. It was completely silent, though this wasn't informative, as the closed doors were highly soundproof.

Still fuming but rather calm about it, she considered the next move. Someone is going to express discontent at my simple appearance. I will say something to the effect of, "As an adult, I have the right to control my appearance." If they try to weasel out of that, then comes something like "So I'm not an adult, and I should have been provided ample clothing?"

The clock tower chimed six, interrupting her planning. She gave the doors a firm push.

The banquet hall was spectacularly decorated. The ceiling and upper walls had been wired to appear as the starry sky outside, giving the illusion of an open-air gathering. Holographic streamers of every colour hopped across the ceiling like coiled springs. Perfectly spherical balloons, some glowing and some translucent, hovered across the room, gracefully avoiding contact with any other objects. Soft, ambient music filled the room from an indeterminable location.

The room was filled with dozens of round tables that each seated six, each one with a unique colour of linens. There didn't seem to be an empty seat in the house; it appeared as if every single occupant of the palace was present, from janitors, chefs, and maintenance workers to guards, tailors, and scholars.

"Ho!" Sorean's booming call cut off the chatter; it came from an elevated table at the opposite side of the room where the rest of the imperial family was seated. "The lady of the day has arrived!"

The room broke out into applause as everyone stood up. Melia was somewhat dumbfounded; none of her previous birthdays had had this much of an "audience". Then again, this was the "you're now an adult" party, and as such would probably be more like a formal imperial event than a birthday celebration.

Anger defused by nervousness, she started walking across the room towards the head table. Looking around as she passed through the continuous applause, she recognised many faces she hadn't seen in decades, such as her various elementary school instructors. It was quite disconcerting to see so many people she knew out of their typical getups and in formal wear.

Upon reaching her seat, Melia remained standing, expecting to be told when to sit down. Unsurprisingly, Sorean kicked it off by raising his glass.

"A toast! To the princess Melia Antiqua, to her pinpoint intellect and unadorned beauty, to a long and fulfilling life!"

A cheer rose up as everyone took a drink and began to sit back down. Melia followed suit in the sitting, trying to avoid reacting to what she considered an overpoweringly-cheesy toast. The phrase "unadorned beauty" in particular seemed very off-key to her, and felt more like a backhanded compliment on her accessory-less appearance than anything.

The serving of food began, with the waiters helping themselves once done with the others. As usual for most feasts, Melia was given about one-and-a-half times the amount of food she could handle, though at least none of it was stuff she flat-out disliked. More thirsty than anything, given what had happened at lunch, she reached for her glass before realising it was full of a pitch-black liquid that smelled strongly of darkgrapes.

Ugh. Alcohol, yet another thing that adults expect those coming of age to be desperate for. She had tried darkgrape wine for the first time about seven years prior, at her father's three-hundredth birthday feast. Kallian had offered some to her under the premise of "You'll be expected to have this someday, you should find out now if you can stomach it." It was a sound idea, but the results turned out to be less than promising, with her becoming dizzy and overtalkative after just half a glass. She despised the experience of losing mental control and and was very keen on never re-living it.

I suppose I must simply hope that being older means having more resistance to its effects. She took a tiny sip, just enough to say "this doesn't taste bad", and started on her food.

There wasn't much to do aside from eating. Sorean and Kallian were having a discussion on the clothing economy, something that Melia had just enough knowledge of to know she should stay out of it. Yumea offered her opinion every now and then, but mostly sat quietly with a look of disgust on her face - as she tended to do at all of Melia's in-palace birthday celebrations.

Bored, Melia cast her gaze across the room. Her four personal bodyguards were situated three tables away on her left, along with the chief and second-in-command. She spotted Reddel in a two-table group of ethermasters, looking quite strange in a mustard-coloured jacket. She couldn't find Alvis, though even given that he would be the only Homs in the room, it was difficult to recognise anyone at the farthest tables.

As expected, after dinner came the cake - or rather, two dozen large cakes, each seasoned with a different spice. Melia was glad she was not asked to cut the first slice; she honestly did not trust herself with large sharp knives. A bit overfilled, she only took a small slice and sat in silence listening to the various garbled discussions occurring around her.

"Oh yes, before it escapes me again." Sorean turned directly to Melia. "In accordance with your newfound adulthood, I see it fit to expand your privileges."

Melia sensed there would be a catch to this, but still offered her attention.

"You are now free to leave the palace at any time, provided you are masked and accompanied by at least one guard. Alternatively, you may continue to use the transporters to have anonymous excursions, also at your leisure."

This is a logical continuation of giving me fewer and fewer restrictions and objectives during excursions. But I don't expect to be going out any more often just because I can.

"Secondly, you may now order food from the kitchens at any time. Within a few sensible restrictions, of course."

I don't see myself ordering snacks and the like between meals when I've done well without them so far.

"And thirdly, you now have control over the Villa of the Second Consort, henceforth known as the Imperial Villa. You may live there once again should you so choose."

This was the surprising one. While she had of course been upset to leave the villa when moved into the palace, once over the initial reaction she had never even considered that going back was possible - mostly because it was lodged in her head as "mother's house", and so effectively vanished alongside her.

"...I suppose that is something I shall have to consider." Though I doubt I will accept the offer. It seems like it would be nothing but an inconvenience to reside outside the palace proper.

With the meal concluded, the gift-giving began. Attendees began filing to and from the storage room next door to retrieve their gifts, concealed by cloths, and one by one stepped up to the head table to reveal them. The offerings were not quite as disappointing as the ones from the public in the morning, but there were still no real standouts - ornate dishes and silverware, over-the-top jewelry, small artworks and sculptures, scented candles, and cosmetics.

Things got a bit more unique when those who Melia knew more personally started to reach the front. Reddel had sealed a bolt inside a solid glass ball before dispelling it, turning the sphere into a veiny crackle of sparkling lines. Aizel, Hogard, Garan, and Damil pooled their resources to procure a bouquet of longroses, bred to survive for months or even years when displayed in a vase. Alvis had somehow commissioned a holopiece of her, about eight centimetres tall on a round base. Yumea clearly did not care, her gift one of the many overblown necklaces. But Kallian's gift was a book: Heart of the Prognosticus, a two-toned blend of comedy and romance against impending doom. And Sorean, the last to present his present, revealed a purple tea hat with six lavender roses on the front, which Melia jitteringly donned to the applause of everyone.

With the presents sent off to be delivered where they now belonged, most of the maintenance staff and guards left while everyone else began to wander around and socialise. Melia considered the party now over, but knew she wouldn't be allowed to leave for quite a while, and was probably also expected to participate in the socialisation.

Kallian, the only other one left at the head table, leaned in. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it?"

Melia hesitated. The day itself was indeed not bad, but she could sense that there was at least one unwanted surprise still in store. She decided to change the subject. "How was it possible for every member of the guard to be present here without compromising the security of the palace?"

"It was quite simple, actually. All it took was to spread a bit of misinformation that extra security measures were being taken, to fool any would-be interlopers into believing today would be a poor choice for their deeds. Since any important persons were in the same room as all the guards, and any important artifacts have their own independent security systems, the risk was more minimal than it would seem. I believe similar if not identical tactics were used for my adulthood birthday feast."

"...What was your adulthood feast like?" Melia was only twelve when Kallian became of age, so she had no memory of it.

Kallian pondered. "It was quite similar to this, all-in-all. Impressive decorations, splendid food, many cakes, and a wealth of gifts." He started chuckling. "But then I imbibed too much wine, had difficulty walking straight, and spectacularly tripped onto the floor. Not even Father could keep himself from laughing."

Melia still had a hard time believing the image of "troublemaker Kallian"; it just didn't fit with the personality she knew.

Kallian took his drink and stood up. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think we both ought to mingle with the crowd." He walked away.

Now alone, Melia glanced at her wineglass, still half-full. Kallian's anecdote was at severe odds with her thirst. At least I got through half a glass with no apparent effects. But how do I know where the line is without crossing it? ...Well, I know that time is a factor. Perhaps I will be okay if I continue to go extremely slowly.

Not wanting to attract attention by sitting alone at the head table, Melia reluctantly picked up her glass and started wandering around the room, trying to make it look like she had somewhere to be and so should not be disturbed. It didn't work for very long.

"Ahh, Your Highness." Lorithia, the head of the Ministry of Research, had sidled up. "How goes it?"

"...Fine." Melia was not very fond of Lorithia. Sure, she had a usefully brilliant mind, but she quite liked parading it around and always seemed to know way more than she was supposed to. It didn't help that the height difference between the two meant that Melia was almost eye-level with her disturbingly large breasts.

"Good, good." Lorithia swirled her drink around. "Tell me, Your Highness, how would you feel if I told you that you have another present on the way?"

No, I don't need any more useless presents. "I would find it difficult to believe that any further gifts would be of unique qualities."

"Of course. There are only so many things that a princess could possess." A dramatic pause. "But I daresay you could not say no to your own personal craft?"

Melia didn't know what to make of this. Generally speaking, aside from the scout ships that surveyed the wilderness and the cargo ships that supplied the city with resources from Eryth Sea and beyond, the entire High Entia society was within walking distance of itself. Personal vehicles certainly did exist - such as the imperial yacht, which her father would use to occasionally take a few days' break from royal life - but were often marks of excessive wealth and eccentricity more than a practicality. She had absolutely no idea what she'd do with something like that.

"...That is not something I have ever considered."

"Well, I am sure that once you do consider it, you will find a great deal of uses for the freedom it will bring." Lorithia took a large pull of her drink. "I don't believe the Emperor wants you to know just yet, but a little anticipation never hurt anyone."

This was something else that bothered Melia about Lorithia: an almost casual disregard for some of her father's lesser requests. She felt compelled to speak her mind about it. "While I appreciate advance knowledge of events, I do not condone secrets being spoiled before their progenitor is prepared."

Lorithia looked a bit slighted but recovered quickly. "Do not worry about it. If anything, I will take your excitement as motivation to progress more quickly. Take care, princess." She turned away.

Melia scoffed, upset that her attitude towards the "spoiled surprise" was distorted into "excitement". It would be nice for her to stop misrepresenting me.

"Hello, Lady Melia." Reddel was the next person to address her. "You are well?"

"Fine." It was uncomfortable to address the instructor outside the teaching environment.

"Indeed." He twirled his mustache. "Well, I have news that may interest you. Just moments ago, Mr. Keldon has informed me that he believes you are ready to possess a staff of your own."

Melia didn't know what to expect, but it was not this. "Really?" She was both excited for and apprehensive at the idea.

"I myself am surprised at this decision, but I certainly cannot disagree with it." A small pause. "Of course, it's not quite as simple as saying "yes". Over the next few months I shall be searching for the best craftsman available, and from then it may be several more months before it is ready. But make no mistake, it is on its way."

This was unquestionably the best news Melia had heard all day.

By the time Melia escaped from the banquet hall, it was eleven-thirty. She was massively tired from all the conversing she was effectively forced to do and slightly light-headed from the glass of wine she had eventually completed, but above all relieved that the long day was almost over.

I'm still a little thirsty, she considered as she walked slowly towards her chambers. I need to find a way to build up a resistance to the effects of wine, so I can drink a decent amount without fear. I wonder what can be done about beginning to have it on a regular basis, such as for dinner on Saturdays. I'm sure that Father could not refuse if I explain my reasoning.

Reaching her room, she noticed that she had a new nightgown, coloured mauve instead of lavender, lying on her bed instead of the mess of jewelry she had dumped on it earlier.

Finally, I can take this stupid thing off. After placing her hat on the desk, Melia had her dress off in seconds, carelessly tossing it down the laundry chute, and replaced it with the new nightgown. It was a fair bit larger than the old one, long enough to completely cover her even if she were to grow five more centimetres. Much better. Oh yes, how is my wardrobe looking now?

She opened up the wardrobe doors to find that it was fully-stocked again, which was a relief. But closer inspection revealed a sinister change to the general styles available: shorter skirts, shorter sleeves, lower cuts, thinner torsos, and higher heels. It seemed as if an invisible directive had been changed from "hide it" to "flaunt it".

And there it is again, that assumption that new adults want out of their kid rules instantly. The unusual wording of her inner monologue revealed both her tiredness and frustration.

Part of the reason Melia so disliked showing skin, aside from the imperial decree on child princesses, was a very low opinion of her body. She disliked the shortness and skinniness that resulted in her notoriously poor physical strength, even though she recognised them as situational advantages. She was mostly over not having features such as full wings and pointed ears, and didn't inherit any potentially ugly Homs traits such as acne or body hair, but every now and then she would still imagine how much easier life would be as a pure-blood. Most of all, she hated the obtrusiveness of her breasts, which were about three times as big as she would prefer and seemed to always be in the way. Overall, she was effectively desensitised to being repeatedly told that her beauty and attractiveness were top-notch, and she hated looking at any part of herself in the mirror.

Melia's sourness over her new wardrobe abated somewhat upon seeing that there was still a decent selection of overcoats available, while the contents of her dresser remained unchanged, leaving all her long gloves and leggings intact. It looks like these will be seeing much more use now.

Dropping into bed, she recounted what exactly had happened today. Her new title was "Lady Melia", she could leave the palace at will yet still had to remain disguised as a royal, she had a bunch of new possessions that she wouldn't notice the majority of, all her clothes were more revealing, the Ministry of Research was building her a personal ship, and the process had begun to get her a staff. All in all, she really only cared about the last one.