A New Year Gathering (1)

The spacious pavilion was ablaze both without and within with the lights of over a hundred candles and colored lanterns, the entire edifice covered in embroidered gold-lace mosquito nets. The young guests were dressed in their finest damasks and silk brocades, the rubies in their foreheads and jewels adorning them glittering in the light as their chatter and laughter percolated the balmy night air.

Tables were arranged around the pavilion with food and drink, Maidens of the Royal Kitchens moving in and out to ensure there was a constant supply of both. Other Maidens and Eunuchs walked about, serving the noble guests. An ensemble of musicians and players of the Bureau of Music and Royal Performers occupied the stage attached to the pavilion, performing and gamboling for their audience’s entertainment.

Princess Ada accepted the goblet of palm wine her Chief Maiden lifted off a silver platter a Eunuch carried, but ignored the look of caution the Aye gave her along with the drink. Aye Sayoma was her closest attendant, having nursed and served her since she was a babe. She was also the only one who dared to nag her. Princess Ada knew she tended to get carried away when surrounded by such revelry, but she was not intemperate. Besides, she was the host of this gathering and intended to enjoy every moment of it. She took a sip of the delectably sweet beverage and faced her companions.

They were seated in an exclusive section of the pavilion partitioned with a rich red velvet rug and surrounded by attendants. She and Prince Etegah sat in ornate armchairs at the head, while their most intimate friends sat around them.

Ejaita Beliko Onajite, the boisterous son of the Minister of Domestic Affairs, was teasing Emuvoke and Ewoma about their engagement, which their families officially announced just a few days ago. Princess Ada grimaced to see his eyes suddenly fixed on her when she looked up. He leaned forward expectantly in his chair, an elbow propped on an armrest. The ends of his headcloth were already coming loose, so they hung down to his shoulders, the layers of cloth revealing his piled auburn locks. Princess Ada knew that by the end of the night the mound of hair will have come completely undone, the headcloth abandoned on the floor for the attendants to discard.

Ejaita was a voluble speaker with a habit of gesticulation, and such expression was bound to knock a few pins loose and generate heat. It was usually the case that by the end of a long discussion, he discarded anything that burdened him, including headcloth, outer robe, and jewelry. Princess Ada had even come close to seeing him doff his inner robe at one such gathering, except Emuvoke and Efemuaye were there to remind him he was not in the privacy of his home. Princess Ada found this trait of his amusing, but disliked his other annoying habit of prying.

Ejaita looked pointedly at her, grinning, “The only one left now is you, Princess Ada. When will you give us the chance to sing,” he sat up, swinging his arms smoothly as he rendered, “‘Have you seen my beautiful Ada? Have you seen my tomato Ada?’” a wedding serenade.

Efemuaye, Asa, Ewoma, and Ufuoma laughed with Ejaita at his rendition, but quieted when they caught her glare. They bowed their heads, amending, “Forgive us, Princess.”

Ejaita sat back, lifting an ankle onto one knee. “Truly, it is not your fault that girls younger than you are getting married while you continue to age by the day, unwed. It is Ovye and Oyoyovwi who are to blame. But look,” he dropped the foot, scooting forward again with palms open, “at least you are royalty. Someone will be interested even if you were a decrepit sun-burned fossil!” He laughed uproariously.

Princess Ada scowled. That was another thing that vexed her about Ejaita: his obnoxious turn of phrase. She was fully aware of her celibate status and lack of an engagement though she would be turning eighteen this year. Most noble ladies married the same year as their coming-of-age, or were affianced and wedded not too long after. She knew it was out of deference to her that her friends had even waited so long to be engaged, for Asa and Ewoma were seventeen, and Ufuoma would be twenty by the end of the year. Ufuoma’s wedding to a young marquis was scheduled for later that year, and Asa and Ewoma were now both betrothed.

Being eighteen years of age and still unwed was surely an embarrassment, but though Princess Ada was not embarrassed, there were plenty who were on her behalf. Since their Sovereign Brother was yet unwed, however, she and Etegah, as his younger siblings, were required to wait in fraternal and sororal respect. This, she did not mind. Her friends had been fortunate to be paired with individuals with whom they shared an affinity. But she knew that when she married, it would simply be a grand ceremony of exchanging her golden palatial cage for a smaller silver one encrusted in jewels. She did not fancy becoming the sweet wife of a young lord, attending pleasant meetings while maintaining hearth and home.

In truth, she had long since grown weary of the monotony of life in the palace. Which was why she endeavored to fill her days with activity. Horse races, vacations by the sea, and lively gatherings like this one. Once she married, she would have even less independence and would doubtless be miserable. Especially since most, if not all, royal marriages were arranged to consolidate power and strengthen the Royal House. Her bridegroom would be the lord of some powerful clan whose influence the Royal House sought to bridle, and who in turn coveted the greater prestige a connection with the royalty would bring.

It was a never-ending struggle of power between the clans and crown that Princess Ada wanted no part in. She might have had hope if it were up to her Sovereign Brother alone to choose her partner, for he would not disregard her feelings in making the match, she was sure. But in this case, the Queen Dowager had the final say.

Princess Ada sighed, taking a longer sip from her goblet. She had been born a princess and lavished with privilege but denied the one thing she truly wanted: freedom. What she desired more than anything was to be loose on the realm, unfettered by court rules, standards of propriety, and the expectations of others. She wanted to live as she pleased among the people, rather than to be moved from one fancy courtyard to another.

“Stop it, Jaita,” Oyoyovwi said. Her attendant offered her a glass of palm wine, and she covered her mouth with her delicate silver-gilt enamel fan, waving the drink away. “Princess Ada does not bother about such things.”

Princess Ada wrinkled her nose, perceiving Oyoyovwi’s act as prudish; her fastidious character irritated her at times. She thought, Is she so content to be always so prim? She sneered, “Besides, Yoyovwi is the most pitiful of all,” and thought, and she does not even know it.

Her friends looked perplexed, Oyoyovwi bothered. Princess Ada simply smiled, shrugging as she took another sip from her glass. They would understand soon enough what she meant, and how they would be shocked! It excited her to think of it.