Eliza's Birthday

Last week was Eliza’s fifteenth birthday. One of these years, I’d like to be able to say that we celebrated her birthday together and if I am to be honest, I was disappointed that this year didn’t turn out to be the one.

As she’s done every year before, Eliza took the day off and one of the older maids attended to me in her place. Up until now, I’ve assumed she does something enjoyable on her birthday, but that’s always been an assumption lacking proof. She’s never looked happier returning or leaving on the day off than she’s looked working the day before. So this year, I finally decided to ask her what she does for her birthday. She told me that she visits her parents every year.

“What are they like?” I asked.

“The normal kind of parents who love their daughter very much.” She said.

“Did you enjoy this year’s visit?”

“As much as I could.”

From her behavior, that never appeared to be very much. “What did you do with them?”

“I talked to them about my year and they listened.”

“That’s all?”

“That’s all they needed.”

“I see.”

The Founder's Speech

I didn’t see my mother when I was a child. From as far back as I can remember, up until the day she died, she spent more time traveling than she ever did living on the estate. And when she did stay at the estate, she rarely showed herself to me. But what of those rare times that she graced me with her visage? Mayhaps it would have been better if I had never seen her at all. She often ignored me and I can’t recall a time she had ever spoken to me with warmth. Considering the circumstances, it wasn't surprising that I held no admiration for the woman. At least, not until I heard her speak before our people.

At the time, instead of by her side, my escort and I were disguised and standing amongst the crowd. I’ve always been told that this was because she hadn’t wanted me seen in public before my debut. Such an excuse gave her more than enough reason to keep me away at these sorts of events.

And so I stood below her balcony amongst the common man. I watched her as they did and listened as they did before coming to a conclusion; the woman upon the balcony was a stranger to me. Kind, confident, and hopeful, she was the mother that I had wished for and the mother I never knew I had needed before then. If I was asked that day what I wanted to be, I would have said, more than anything, I wanted to be like the mother I saw standing above us.

Without a doubt, that day was the first time I felt the desire to be queen.

I learned more with every season’s passing and I grew to understand what that wish meant and the duties that came with it. It would be a daunting task, but still, I chased the shadow of my mother. I copied her every step, I copied her every move, and though I am sure she could see me chasing, she never slowed down to help me. Yes, there were many times I tripped along the way, but eventually, my diligence paid off. In a sense, I was steps away from that balcony, ready to speak, just like she had been before me. However, before I could do so, there was one last failing I had to overcome, a final stepping stone that I had tripped upon.

My instructor said to me, “You speak well, but the speeches you draft, they’re too similar to your mother’s.”

“How are they too similar?” I asked.

“When you recite them, I can’t tell the difference between the two of you.”

“I find myself failing to see the problem.” In fact, I would have considered this the highest form of compliment. My mother was an outstanding speaker.

“The problem is that while your mother is speaking from her life’s experience, you’re just copying her words. Excuse my discourtesy, Your Highness, but it makes your speeches ring hollow.” He took out a document. “Perhaps, reading the works of other great orators will help you understand. In fact, it would do best for you to read anything, besides another speech from your mother. Here.” It was a copy of the founder’s speech, revised with consideration for the Pact, of course. “Try to see if you can garner some inspiration from this.”

He was right. Ever since I heard my mother give a speech, I hadn’t acknowledged anyone else. Yes, I had read the works of other orators before, but the only works I had truly studied were my mother’s. Everything else was fleeting. As a result, I had perfected my mother’s voice, but I had never found my own. To do that, I needed to open myself.

And so I did. I read the founder’s speech and felt the difference in author’s voice to be immediately apparent. My mother grew up in a period of great shame for our country, when she spoke, she aimed to bring back our people’s optimism for the future. The founder, however, he spoke as the lord of a prosperous city with untold potential lying beyond its valley’s bounds. His words were filled with ideas of patriotism, expansionism, and duty.

Both of them were defined by—or perhaps it is more accurate to say reacting to—their context, but what of me? What was my context? The Dark Age’s legacy still haunts the older generations of our country, but for my generation, it is only a memory passed down. My mother has succeeded in reaching the optimistic future she referred to in her speeches. But what does that mean for me? Am I to be the custodian of her achievements or am I to search for my own bright future?

In Consequence...

Studying the Founder’s Speech has made Diane interested in reviewing Vallis’s founding within her greater National History studies.