The Ceremony ?

Names and titles are more than mere labels; they symbolize our identity and place in the world. The anticipation and ceremony surrounding a name reveal our innate desire for recognition and significance. As we navigate our roles and relationships, our understanding of ourselves and others evolves. This journey of growth is marked by both the comfort of familiar bonds and the challenges of new dynamics, illustrating the complex interplay between identity, tradition, and personal connection.

**Toddler POV**

Time passed quickly, and it had been about a year since my rebirth. During this time, I had begun to speak, albeit haltingly, managing one or two words at a time. My attempts at communication had been ongoing for the past six months, but initially, all I could muster were embarrassing, unintelligible noises. My tongue and voice box were still undeveloped, making it difficult to produce coherent speech. 

Despite these challenges, I remained determined to communicate with my maid and my mother. Although my vocalizations were often indistinct, they somehow understood that I was trying to convey my needs and feelings. For example, when hunger pangs struck, I would make a sound resembling "miiii" and cry softly, as my immature body could not regulate my emotions effectively. These cries were not frequent, thanks to the diligent care of the maids who ensured I was always well-fed. Being born into nobility afforded me certain privileges, including attentive caregivers who promptly addressed my needs.

Over this past year, I marveled at the rapid changes in my abilities. Initially, I felt frustration as I struggled to make myself understood, but gradually, I noticed small victories. The ability to utter even a single word felt like a monumental achievement. I found comfort in the way my mother and maid responded to my attempts at speech with patience and encouragement. Their understanding and support were invaluable as I navigated the complexities of early communication.

Reflecting on my progress, I realized that my initial frustration was a natural part of my development. Each attempt at speech, no matter how clumsy, brought me closer to effective communication. I began to appreciate the subtle cues my caregivers picked up on—my gestures, facial expressions, and the varied tones of my noises. They had an intuitive understanding of my needs and emotions, which bridged the gap that my lack of speech created.

The past year had been a period of immense growth and learning. The maids' attentiveness and my family's support made the challenges of early childhood more manageable. While my journey toward fluent speech was far from over, the progress I had made filled me with a sense of accomplishment and hope for the future.

Baths were something I enjoyed immensely. Ce, as I now called Celine, was happy with her nickname since I was the one who gave it to her. She would take me to baths, and we would bathe together. It was surprising how someone who was just three years old was given the responsibility to care for me. I didn't mind, as long as she took good care of me, which she did. Ce would gently splash water on me, making me giggle. Her laughter, sweet and innocent, always made bath time enjoyable. She treated me with such care and affection that it warmed my heart. Despite her young age, Ce had a surprising maturity about her, and our bath time was filled with giggles, splashes, and the warmth of her gentle touch.

One day, my curiosity got the better of me. "Mom, Cel, Me, why? Other maids big, why?" I asked. Mom found it very cute and understood what I was trying to say. "Aww, my baby is curious. Don't worry, Mommy will tell you!" She explained that there was a tradition where a maid, butler, or aide was usually assigned to noble children. This was similar to how she was given a maid, Roxy, who coincidentally was Celine's mother.

"Curious about something else," I pointed my finger at her, "Lyra?" She nodded. I then pointed to Celine, "Ce?" She nodded again. Finally, I pointed to myself and asked, "Baby? Young Master? Boy?" She quickly shook her head left and right. "No! Baby, your name is not Baby or Young Master, or Boy. You will be given a name in a few days. That is all I can say for now. I'm sorry, Baby. Mommy can't say more. It will either be a blessing for us or a tragedy for you, me, and Celine." Her words hung in the air, a mixture of anticipation and dread, hinting at something momentous and uncertain looming on the horizon.

Mom started to shed a few tears, her sorrow palpable. I was shocked as I saw her eyes turn a bluish-grey, filled with an emotion I couldn't fully understand. Slowly, I walked towards her and gently tugged at her clothes, seeking to comfort her. She leaned down, and I wiped the little tears from her face with my tiny fingers. She laughed softly, a bittersweet sound, and said, "Sorry, baby. Mommy showed you something unbecoming of her." Then she gave me a long, heartfelt hug, her warmth and familiar scent enveloping me, offering solace and reassurance in that tender moment.

A few days later, there was a huge commotion in the mansion. The maids, butlers, and servants were all scurrying about, preparing for a big event. The air was filled with excitement and urgency. I overheard one of the maids say, "Do you think the Master is here for the Young Miss and Young Masters?" My heart raced as I realized this might be what Mom was talking about—the event where I would get my name! The anticipation was almost too much to bear as I watched everyone hustle and bustle, knowing that my identity was about to be defined in a momentous way.

The entire household was bustling with activity. Maids were polishing silverware, arranging flowers, and preparing lavish decorations. The air was thick with anticipation and excitement. Every corner of the mansion seemed to be glowing with a special kind of energy. The walls seemed to hum with life, and the usually serene atmosphere was now charged with a sense of urgency and importance. I watched with wide eyes as the maids darted around, their faces a mix of stress and excitement.

As the day drew closer, the air of mystery deepened. I watched from my crib as everyone prepared for the big event. The suspense was palpable. Mom seemed anxious yet hopeful. Celine was more attentive than ever, her eyes sparkling with excitement. What was this event? Would it truly change our lives as Mom hinted?

The nights were the hardest. The anticipation kept me awake, my mind racing with possibilities. I would lie in my crib, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint sounds of preparations echoing through the mansion. The servants worked late into the night, and I could hear their muffled conversations and footsteps. The wait was almost unbearable.

One evening, as I lay in my crib, I heard Ce humming a lullaby. Her soft voice was soothing, and it helped to calm my racing thoughts. She sat beside my crib, gently stroking my hair. "Don't worry, little one," she whispered. "Everything will be fine." Her words, though simple, brought me a sense of comfort. I closed my eyes, letting her lullaby wash over me, and drifted into a restless sleep.

The day finally arrived. I was woken up early in the morning by the sounds of hurried footsteps and hushed voices. The maids were bustling around, making last-minute preparations. I was dressed in a fine outfit, the fabric soft against my skin. Ce fussed over me, making sure I looked perfect. "You look so handsome," she said with a smile, her eyes twinkling with pride.

Mom came to get me, her presence bringing a sense of calm amidst the chaos. She was dressed in a beautiful gown, her hair elegantly styled. "Are you ready, my little one?" she asked, her voice gentle. I nodded, my heart pounding in my chest. She took my hand, and we made our way to the grand hall.

The grand hall was magnificent, adorned with flowers and decorations. The chandeliers sparkled, casting a warm glow over the room. There was an air of elegance and grandeur that took my breath away. The hall was filled with people, all dressed in their finest attire. I recognized some of them as noble families who visited our mansion occasionally.

As we entered the hall, all eyes turned towards us. I felt a mix of nervousness and excitement. Mom led me to the front of the hall, where a grand chair was placed. She picked me up and placed me on the chair, her eyes filled with love and pride. "Stay here, my little one. Everything will be revealed soon," she whispered before stepping back.

I sat there, my heart racing, as I took in the scene before me. The hall was buzzing with whispers and anticipation. I saw Ce standing with the other maids, her eyes fixed on me, a proud smile on her face. The atmosphere was charged with excitement and curiosity.

Suddenly, the grand doors of the hall opened, and a hush fell over the room. A figure entered, dressed in a regal robe, exuding an aura of power and authority. I recognized him as the Master, the head of our family. He had an imposing presence, his eyes sharp and discerning. He made his way towards me, and I felt a mix of awe and apprehension.

The Master stopped in front of me, looking down with an intense gaze. "Is this his child?" he asked, his voice deep and commanding. Mom stepped forward, her head bowed. "Yes, my lord. This is your grandson," she replied.

The Master studied me for a moment, then nodded. "Very well. Let the ceremony begin." He raised his hand, and the hall was filled with a low, resonant hum. The air seemed to shimmer, and I felt a strange sensation, like a tingling in my chest.

He placed his hand on my head, and I felt a warmth spreading through me. "You shall be named…" he began, his voice echoing through the hall. My heart pounded in anticipation, every fiber of my being hanging on his words. But before he could finish, a loud crash interrupted the ceremony.

The doors burst open, and a figure clad in dark robes stormed into the hall. Gasps and murmurs filled the room as the figure made their way towards us. The Master's eyes narrowed, his expression turning from surprise to anger.

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded, his voice cold and stern. The figure stopped in front of him, pulling back their hood to reveal a man with striking features and fierce eyes but not scary it looked awfully similar.

My mind raced with questions. What could this possibly mean? What was so important that it warranted such an interruption?

"Son," the Master said, his voice firm and resonant. "So, you have returned."

"Yes, I have returned, Father!" the man, now revealed as my father, replied. "I have indeed completed the true requirements to be the head of the household." His tone was laced with a hint of pride, accomplishment, and self-satisfaction.

The Master's eyes softened slightly. "You've done well. It is no small feat to meet the expectations of this family. Today is a significant day, not just for you, but for the future of our lineage."

"Yes, Father," my father said, his gaze steady. "I am ready to take on the responsibilities and lead our family with honor and dedication."

I looked towards Mom, and she had an expression that I had never seen before—one full of love and relief like never before. This loving expression was different from the one she showed me; it was so beautiful and intense. Her eyes were practically glowing pink, radiating a warmth that captivated me. I didn't know what it was, but I felt a deep longing to experience that same emotion she was feeling. I was mesmerized by the sheer depth of her affection and the overwhelming sense of peace and joy in her gaze.

I then looked towards my father, and he was watching my mother with an expression that remained unchanged, but his eyes told a different story—one of deep, unspoken emotion. When he turned his gaze toward me, his eyes softened with a look of satisfaction. I didn't fully understand the source of his contentment, but it was unmistakably there, a silent acknowledgment of something profoundly significant.

Then, the doors opened again, revealing a striking woman with green hair and blue eyes, a beauty spot beneath her left eye. She seemed to embody an intense ferocity, yet her eyes conveyed the same tender emotions my mother displayed when she looked at my father. She moved with a captivating grace that contrasted with my mother's more awkward charm. Her presence was as enchanting as my mother's, with an elegance that drew the eye. Two children accompanied her, one a young maid and the other a young butler, their presence adding to the scene's refined and almost intoxicating allure.

From my memory of the gossips between the maids, I knew this was my father's other wife.

I could only imagine how this was going to unfold. When I looked back at Mom, her expression had shifted once again. She was now smiling, but it was a smile that spoke of deep camaraderie, radiating an intensity I hadn't seen before. It was a smile of profound connection and understanding, as though it held unspoken promises and emotions that transcended ordinary expressions.

"Mom! Good lady?" I asked her while looking towards the green-haired lady.

My mom looked at me, then at the green-haired lady. She gave me a reassuring smile and said, "Yes, honey, she is a good lady. We will all be family together."