Prajan royal palace

some kind of field used to gather and/or hold festivals

an endearing way to address 'mother'

grandpa/grandma

.·。.·゜·༺♥༻ ·゜·。.

Avantie was always a perfect queen, though she wasn't raised to be one. That was the reason she raised her daughter like one, despite her being the last in line to the throne.

The eldest daughter of a wealthy family of the merchant class, Avantie was no stranger to the manners and etiquette of the upper class. Her mother was one of the Prajan-Qingxin; thus she spoke both languages fluently.

When thinking about the future, she had never once thought to pursue a life at court. She thought she would expand her family's business; perhaps build a few ones of her own and live the rest of her life in the beautiful terrains of Dewata, far from the pretentious milieu of the capital.

Life was too short to get tangled with the aristocrats parading their daughters to get in favour with the king, or politicians pretending to be white knights while smuggling pockets of gold in between hushed voices. Huge factories hoarding resources. Had they not been blessed with such fruitful soils, plenty of their people would've suffered. Prajanagara might be well off, but they were not as fine a nation as they should be.

But Avantie wanted no commotions, so her political opinions were mostly kept to herself.

Mostly.

Sometime after her eighteenth birthday, she attended a festival in the alun-alun which featured a swindling governor who was unfairly pardoned from jail. During their introductions, she refused to work for him. It brought a lot of stares, and her parents thought that would be the last time she ever came out in society.

They were wrong.

Not long after the fateful event, the crown prince started to pursue her. A year younger than her, he was impressed by her display of valour at the festival and asked for her hand in marriage. Knowing all the ruckus and emotional upheaval that she was to endure if marrying into the royal family, let alone becoming the crown princess; she rejected his proposal.

Then, one day, her parents witnessed him standing outside her window in a downpour; soaking wet.

She offered him a bargain.

She would agree to marry him only if he swore to make her queen, honouring her first and foremost above his other consorts in the future. To survive this life, she couldn't depend on a man's love. A throne and a crown, however, would give her enough power and authority to ensure the life of her future children and her own.

As years passed and he was crowned Nataraja IX, she began to realise why he wanted her as queen. She had always offered him her honest political views behind closed doors while pursuing no bounties for her family; unlike his other consorts.

Her presence kept the swindlers at bay, preserving the stability at the court.

Their union produced perfect children. Their firstborn Aditya was the epitome of a perfect Prajan heir; the son that every Prajan parent was dying to have. Hardworking, respectful of his elders, excelled at education, married to a respectable woman, and he had never been involved in a scandal.

Alongside seven other children, consisting of strapping young princes and a beautiful princess.

But somehow, Avantie knew that it wasn't enough for her husband. He wanted more.

Eight hundred years ago, Prajanagara was a thalassocratic empire called Mahawijaya, marked by its conquests that extended throughout the southeastern globe, before it fell, and the neighbouring countries started separating themselves. Centuries before the present great empires even existed.

The years didn't get any easier for them as two other provinces declared their independence as a result of an authoritarian regime by her husband's grandfather. As their defence weakened, neighbouring behemoths like Morioka circled them like vultures, waiting for a moment of weakness.

Plentiful sun and bountiful supplies used to be the making of a great nation. But nowadays the world had settled on guns, aircraft and warships— things the modern empires like Angletonia had.

Avantie had always known that something was strange with the way their daughter was raised. She was always being kept to the side each time the princesses made a dance performance, receiving extra classes alongside her brothers, and taught the western etiquette.

Her husband would always receive proposals for his mistresses' daughters, securing them with sons of nobility and high-ranking officials; but none for Gianita.

As she gave him an earful for neglecting their daughter, he calmly told her; "Don't worry, dear. I'm saving her for the best."

Just for whom did he claim to save their daughter? She was prepared to throw a fit if he didn't measure up to it. Until one day, everything made sense. Gianita had received a marriage proposal from the new Emperor of Angletonia.

The King has made his intentions known, but as her mother, she had the final say to seal the arrangement.

"The Emperor of Angletonia— Cal Raedan Leroy, what is he like?" she asked her private investigator.

"He's twenty-seven, widowed, with an apparent heir."

"I know that, but what is he like? How was he toward... his mother?" she inquired. "Get me everything you can find about him."

A week later, the man came with his final reports, and the news of their engagement was broadcasted throughout the country.

The revelation of their union caused an uproar among the women at court. The mistresses who had just accepted proposals from governors for their daughters were now trying to bring Gianita down because her husband-to-be was a widower; spreading rumours that her marriage was doomed to fail.

Avantie knew better than to feed their petty envious rage, calmly leading her daughter through her wedding preparations.

"Marriage is a give and take," she told her during one of the fitting sessions of her wedding attire. "That includes the marriage bed. Remember Gianita, you're not just a wife, nor a mistress; you're the Empress. You have the right to demand pleasure from your husband."

Gianita twiddled in her lace white kebaya. "You think he would care about what I need, or even listen to me when he never talks to me?"

Avantie tilted her head. "You haven't met him yet, it's too early to pass a judgment."

"Mother, why are you doing this? You're willing to gamble my life and future because he has an empire?"

"A Queen never gambles," she asserted.

A few minutes later a couple of maidservants came in carrying some headpieces that she would wear at her wedding. An ornate crown was attached to her head, perfecting the entire look. Gianita looked even more beautiful than she did on her wedding day.

Avantie looked upon her daughter with pride. "My daughter, the Empress of Angletonia."

***

Months had passed since Gianita departed for Angletonia, and already their union had been proven resourceful. With military aid from Angletonia, tumultuous provinces were quickly managed, Prajan security strengthened and Morioka had taken a step back from invading their country.

If only the tanks and gunships could also vanquish the rotten practices inside the bureaucracy... But they couldn't have it all.

Her interest weighed more on her daughter's wellbeing. Gianita had written very little, and though she envied the other mistresses for receiving countless letters from their daughters, she knew her daughter well enough not to worry about it.

Soon, words about her daughter's success in Angletonia spread. How she popularized Prajan fashion, news of pregnancy, and finally— her awaited return, with a daughter by her side. A granddaughter whose middle name was named after her.

Aravin visited her once. He came back venting about his disappointment that his sister had switched her allegiance to the Emperor. Avantie welcomed it with laughter, a sign that their relationship was going well.

The royal family gathered before the Keraton on an afternoon in August when it was the hottest. Only Avantie and her sons stood in the front line, with Aditya on her right, followed by his full-blooded brothers in their birth order; except for Aravin who was sticking to her side. The mistresses and their children at the back, along with the internal palace staff. There they had arranged a special welcoming performance as usually given to every guest of the state.

A black Cadillac drove through the front yard, and the Emperor exited the passenger seat with the little prince. And from the other side of the car... came her daughter!

"Cal!" Nataraja came forward.

"Father!" The latter responded with similar enthusiasm. With a batik scarf draped on his neck, he was a lot taller in person, with every defining feature of a western aristocrat. He welcomed the King into his arms.

"Welcome to Praja, son!"

"It's good to be back." Cal grinned. Avantie looked upon him with interest as he turned his attention to her, bending down to press his lips onto her hand. "Bunda."

Not bad.

"Gigi and I meant to come sooner, I'm sorry we did not; we've been kept occupied."

Avantie meant to look behind those lively brown eyes, catching some kind of false pretence or hidden intentions. She was always good at seeing through people. But she must admit this time, there was none; just a young man genuinely anxious to impress his in-law.

She gave him a regal smile. "You've arrived here safely, that's what matters."

"Nobody could blame you after what happened with Seol-il," her husband added.

"Mother, Father, I have returned," Gianita came to join them. With her shoulders straight, she didn't curtsy nor lower her head. She was a princess no more.

"Cal! Cal! Cal!" Aravin jumped up and down, and for the moment everyone thought he was referring to the Emperor and not the little prince who threw an awkward smile before quickly hiding behind Gigi.

It was Aditya's turn to be introduced, but Gianita gestured over to her handmaiden with a baby in her arms. "Syena has come to greet you, Father."

"Syena! My granddaughter!" The King laughed, rushing toward the baby and raising her up in the air. "Oh, you're so beautiful! You're coming with grandpa!"

Gianita took her daughter back and wrapped more blankets around her as the baby began to wail. "She's not used to the weather here. She hasn't slept a wink since we docked."

"She'll get along, she's Prajan isn't she?" The King guffawed, monopolizing their granddaughter for himself. "Let's talk inside."

"Father, the performance?" One of the princesses asked.

"Let's cancel the performance for today. Can't risk the baby getting sunburned, can we?"

"I brought my horse on the voyage, could I entrust him in your stable boys' capable hands?" Cal inquired as he walked alongside him. "He's my favourite."

"Of course, any horses of yours shall receive the best treatment." Nataraja chortled.

With a glance from the King, Aditya, his brothers, their families, the mistresses and their children bowed in unison as Gianita and her family passed by.

The palace served them rendang at dinner; a dish made of beef braised in herbs and spices. A Prajan specialty. To create a perfect composition of the spice, the cook utilizes no less than twenty different herbs.

The King was having an interesting conversation with Cal about something he did in Seol-il, as Gianita caught up with her brothers, but all gazes stopped and stared as the servant he summoned came to serve the Emperor some wine.

"But I thought you're not allowed to drink here?"

"Who says? It's getting drunk that's not allowed." Nataraja chuckled, pouring a glass for his son-in-law.

Avantie caught a glint of jealousy from her eldest's eyes.

After dinner, the Queen finally got a closer look at her granddaughter.

"You're the brightest, most beautiful little princess that I've ever seen." Avantie cradled her granddaughter, humming nursery rhymes to her. "Syena, dear."

"She looks a lot like you, Mother," Gianita said, sitting by her side.

"Does she?" Smiling, she gently rocked the baby who kept reaching up to touch her jewellery. "How old is she?"

"Three months this August."

"Then you shouldn't get pregnant again so soon if you're to breastfeed her full term. Don't make the same mistake that I did with your brothers, even with the wet nurse."

"It's fine, Mother. Cal and I have agreed that we'll not have another child for a few years."

"Did he? I wish your father could've been so thoughtful. Well then, you can focus on your child while he's with his mistresses."

"He doesn't have any. Angletonia hasn't had a mistress for a hundred years."

"Perhaps not officially. Kings do have some..."

"No," Gianita shook her head once more, her gaze solemn. "I am all he has."

Avantie paused to let that sink in for a moment. "Very well, let me show you some good methods of prevention."

"Mother," Gianita cut in. "I'm a married woman. We can handle ourselves. Although, I do have one request."

It was surprising Gianita asked to stay in her old quarters in the Queen's wing rather than taking the one prepared for them in the main building. She claimed that she couldn't wait to show Cal the room she'd been using as a maiden.

While the Queen had no reason to refuse, there was one little problem.

"They are so loud..." A woman giggled.

"What did you hear? ...Move, it's my turn!"

"Can you peek from the keyhole?"

It was nearly midnight, and yet as the Queen strolled the dark corners of the hallway, her motherly instinct had proven to be right again. A group of court ladies had gathered in front of Gianita's quarters, pressing their ears to the wooden door, as if the sounds of moans and bedboard hitting the wall weren't so audible in the background.

The issue with an unmarried princess's bedroom was that it was deprived of the soundproof structure of a married couples' room, to make sure that the princesses weren't misbehaving.

"It's been over an hour, and they're still going..." One of them bumped at her friend's shoulder, unaware of her presence. "It is true what they say about Anglesemen!"

"I want to marry an Angleseman too!"

"I heard the Emperor has an unmarried cousin."

"Like he would want you!"

"It's said they have a big...."

Avantie cleared her throat, appearing from the darkness. The girls froze before cowering in fear. "Evening, girls. Trouble sleeping?"

"Yo-Your Majesty! We were just passing by..."

"Is this the behaviour that one would expect from a court lady?" She gave them a stern look. "Eavesdropping. Invading other people's privacy. Lying. Sharing vulgar jokes! What would your parents think?"

They shook their heads fervently.

"I beg you, do not inform my parents, Your Majesty. They'll send me home!"

"Then I want you to return to your own rooms immediately and never linger in this hallway once Empress Gianita has retreated to her quarters, or your parents will be told. Understood?"

The girls nodded before running off to save their asses.

Summoning a guard to keep other people from approaching the room, Avantie took one last glance at Gianita's door, a small smile tugging at her lips.

***

The following morning was spent with the little princes.

"Selamat pagi, Eyang!" Prince Cal chirped, pushing the carriage of his babbling sister. Such a responsible big brother, she'd been wondering what else the boy had to captivate her daughter into legitimizing him as her firstborn son.

Well, Gianita and Aravin.

"Selamat pagi, Cal!" she greeted him back. "Where are your parents?"

"Still at breakfast. Mamma told me to go first, and that she'll come along shortly." The Prince answered in Prajan, before taking the Queen's hand and kissing it. Gianita did a magnificent job not only in teaching him their language but also their etiquette.

"Eyang, Mamma said that you own the largest library in the palace. Is that true?"

"It is true indeed. Your mother used to spend most of her time there."

"She also said that you're the wisest person in Praja, and I could learn a lot of things just by staying at your side."

"Caaaaal! You came to see me!" Aravin came sprinting in; and Prince Cal suddenly looked uncomfortable again.

"Aravin, behave," she scolded, picking up her granddaughter.

"That's right, Aravin, behave!" Prince Cal echoed.

Avantie looked at them both, smirking. "Cal, since you're Gigi's son, and I'm your grandmother, that makes Aravin your uncle. In Praja, we're not allowed to call our uncles by their first names, no matter how young they may be. So you must call him 'Uncle'."

"Bunda, no!" Aravin shrieked.

"Call him Uncle," she petted his head. "Go on."

Cal Junior blinked widely, hesitating for a moment before cocking his head at Aravin with a mischievous smile. "...Uncle?"

"Nooooooooo!" The other prince cried.

"Waaaaah!" Baby Syena mimicked.

Cendana, her third-born son, suddenly marched into the sitting room. "Hi, Cal, we meet again! Is your Uncle Philippe coming?"

"Aren't you supposed to be assisting Aditya on the hunt?"

Cendana sat down near his niece. "It's been called off. Father decided to take the Emperor on a horseback ride."

***

A week went by, and Avantie got to observe more of her daughter and son-in-law, given their stay in the Queen's wing. How they would always walk hand-in-hand. How their physical gestures mirrored one another. How Gianita's eyes would always light up whenever she was with him, and he would often steal a kiss on her hair or her cheek when he thought that no one was looking. At this point, she could no longer deny that it was love.

Once they held a performance in the alun-alun, in which Gianita was dancing with the other princesses. No longer being kept to the side, she graced the centre of the stage, and Cal was first to raise in ovation as it ended.

And as the Emperor stood, everyone did too.

Even before she married the King, Avantie was convinced that romance was dead. Common folks struggled to have it, let alone royals whose hearts and souls were tied to the very core of their nation. But to see Gianita having a husband who truly cherished her, whom she needn't have to share with anyone else, she was happy.

Since Prajan moral codes didn't allow them to show their affections in public, they were trying their best to work around it. Though they were also very bad at hiding it; always sneaking around her gardens thinking no one would notice. Such as right now.

Cal pinned Gianita against a tree, face buried in the crook of her neck as she desperately clung to him, her palm sliding downwards.

She grabbed his ass.

"Naughty Gia," Avantie snickered, drawing the curtains back on her.

"Mother," Aditya came into the room, casting a look at the blessed couple. "Oh, the overrated couple. I thought father hadn't stopped parading him around like a trophy; 'my son-in-law, the Emperor of Angletonia'."