As the sun set in Romania, a large group of people began to gather at the Royal Palace. Inside, the calming, yet somehow also exiting sound of a waltz could be heard, with the faint sounds of chit chat and laughter escaping out into the night. 

Upon entry, guests were guided to the source of this noise- the grand ballroom. It's walls and floors shone like pure gold in the yellow lighting that radiated from grand chandeliers on the ceiling, only being broken up by the colorful clothing adorned by the visitors who had assembled there. Lining the inner wall were elegant tabled, draped in pure white tablecloths, and covered in various foods, surely all rich in taste. Meanwhile, at the far end of the room, various small tabled that seated four persons each sat, barely visible from the entry, blocked first by people standing and chatting in groups, and then more so by the large open space where people had taken to dancing to the music being performed by a live band, located somewhere in the mass of people.

As the flow of people into the ballroom stopped, a final name was checked off a list being held by a man at the door, and the large doors to the ballroom were all closed, shortly followed by a stop in the music. After exchanging formalities, dance partners joined the group of people being held back near the base of a large staircase, leading up into the actual housing area of the royal family. The large doors at the top of the stairs opened, and guards walked down, lining both ends of the split staircase, and pooling at the bottom, in front of the large crowd. 

Shortly after, a small man with a thick white mustache and almost no hair on his head walked out the same doors, but stopping at the edge of the stairs, and steeping off to the side. As he cleared his throat, the lights of the room were dimmed, beside the one sitting above the staircase. The crowd hushed to whispers, and the elderly man began to speak.

“Thank you all for gathering here tonight, for this celebration of the eighteenth birthday of Prince Ferdinand of Romania. On behalf of his majesty, the king, I would like to thank you all for any gifts brought for the occasion. Now, without further ado, I present to you the royal family!”

A small burst of clapping filled the room, before dying down so the announcer could continue.

“First to join you all this evening, is the lovely Princess Mirela, accompanied by her mother, the beautiful Queen Nadia!”

As the clapping picked back up, a tall woman with curly, dark brown hair and slim features stepped out in a large, white dress, accompanied by a younger girl with a matching hair color, but without the curls and wearing a sleek dress of the same color. With bright smiles, and a small wave from the older woman, the two descended the staircase, both giving a small curtsy upon reaching the bottom. Still not losing her bright smile, the queen gave a nod to the guards, who let her through to greet her friends and family. The princess, however, stayed where she was, shyly trying to keep out of notice.

After a good ten minutes of the queen greeting everybody, the lights dimmed once more, and the announcer spoke up again. 

“If I can have your attention, it is now time for the prince and king to present themselves. So, without hesitation, here they are. King Vlad, and Prince Ferdinand.”

With more clapping, the doors opened, and out stepped a large man with broad shoulders, in the dark green formal outfit of Romanian military men. He looked over the crowd with stern grey eyes, and released a toothy smile from between a closely shaved beard and mustache. To his left, with the kings hand resting on his shoulder stood the prince, who was completely dwarfed by his larger father, despite standing at 178cm himself. With finely cropped hair, matching grey eyes and even a light beard growing in, prince Ferdinand could easily be identified as his fathers son. The only difference was the lack of uniform, and the more perplexed look that sat on the princes face as he scanned the crowd. 

As the two began to descend the stairs, people began to congratulate the prince on his coming-of-age, many also wishing him luck in the military, which he was due to join later in the month. After noticing his son not responding, the king tightened his grip on his sons shoulder, and thanked the guests in his place, before shooting a glare down to the prince. When they reached the bottom, the prince dashed off into the crowd before the king could even properly introduce him to people whom he wanted his son to get to know, prompting another stern look from Vlad. 

Despite knowing his father would be angry, the prince made his way through the crowd, avoiding people wishing to get his attention. As far as he was concerned, they didn't exist right now, as he was looking for somebody specific. As he searched through the crowd, he heard a high voice call out his name from somewhere behind him, and turned just in time to receive a large hug, and a dazzling smile, which he returned right away.

“Adriana!” The prince said, laughing. “I was beginning to think you weren't here!”

“Please, as if I would miss this!” The young woman said, her green eyes sparkling. “I haven't seen you in nearly three months!”

“Has it really been that long?” the prince asked.

Instead of answering, though, the girl suddenly became very sheepish looking, and looking down at her feet. Before he could ask why, though, Ferdinand saw a shadow looming over his shoulder, and turned around to face his father, who grabbed his wrist. 

“Excuse me, Adriana. Ferdinand here has some obligations he has to fulfill before he can socialize. I am sure you understand.”

“Yes, sir.” the young girl replied after straightening her posture, and giving a cordial nod. The king, noticing how he must look, stopped glaring, and put his free hand on her shoulder, smiling down at her. “I promise, once this is done, you two can spend the rest of the evening together.”

With another nod, and a slight blush from hearing the king say that in front of a crowd, Adriana excused herself, as the king took Ferdinand to the other end of the room, where a group of men where waiting.

Upon reaching their destination, the king let go of the prince's wrist, and stood up straight, giving the prince a knock in the spine, prompting him to do the same.

“Ferdinand, these are the people I had planned for you to meet.” the King said, gesturing to the three men. After a brief moment of silence, Ferdinand held his arm out, and gave a firm handshake to all three men, one after another.

First was a man nearly the same size as the prince, but with a much lighter skin tone, clean shave and dirty blonde hair. 

“Marian Mircea, my prince. I am the minister of foreign affairs. My job is to make the workload for your father much easier.”

With a small laugh, the prince's hand moved on to the muscular, stocky man next to Marian, who's handshake would have crushed the princes hand had he not been raised by his father. 

“Dan Pauker. Though, I'm sure you already know me. I will be your superior soon, after all.” 

This time, the prince didn't laugh, and instead, tightened his grip, giving a much more firm handshake in response, prompting a smile from the general. Finally, a bald man with a goatee, and light blue eyes shook the princes hand. 

“Yousef Gorie. Personal barber for the king.” The obviously Russian man said with a wink. The prince smiled, albeit awkwardly, having already met the man, and returned the handshake.

“Let's move into the other room.” The king said, after having the prince introduced in front of the crowd. The men all nodded, and followed Vlad into another room, where the door was shut behind him.

Instantly, the prince spoke up. 

“You had me introduced to Yousef? And as your personal barber?” the prince asked his father, who only replied with a hearty chuckle. 

“Sorry.” said Yousef in a quiet voice. “My job title is supposed to be a secret, and rumours have been circulating. So we figured it best that we could help keep it a secret by saying that in front of all those people.”

A little astonished, the prince nodded. He hadn't even thought that could be why. And he must have had a look on his face that said that, because the king shook his head, and put his hand on his sons shoulder again.

“You still have a lot to learn, boy.”

Ignoring his fathers comment, Ferdinand walked over to Marian, who began to explain what the king had wanted the prince to do all this for.

“Well, you see. We figured that now was as good a time as any for you to sit in on your first meeting, seeing as you turned eighteen today.”

After a brief silence, the prince replied. 

“You're kidding, right? I mean... This is supposed to be a party for me, for my 'last day of being a child', isn't it?”

“Yes, it is.” The king said, sternly. “However, you haven't been paying much attention in your studies lately, and your mother said she caught you flirting with a gardener when you were supposed to be practicing tonight’s speech. So I figured this would be the best way to get you to pay attention. Now, sit down, sit up straight, and pay. Attention.”

Meanwhile, out in the ballroom, Princess Mirela had successfully managed to avoid too much attention, and was just about to brave up enough to go get herself some food, when a large, loud man stepped up to the table, prompting the princess to retreat into a small side room. However, after turning around once inside, she let out a shrill, yet quiet shout after discovering the room was already occupied. She apologized profusely, and tried to leave the room, but the man inside told her to calm down, assuring her it was fine, and that she didn't have to leave.

After taking a moment to evaluate her choices, Mirela decided one person was hardly as terrifying as hundreds. Taking a seat, she looked at the man, who she could see in detail, and who, by the looks of it, saw her in detail, as well. Immediately, he stood up and apologized.

“I'm sorry, princess! I didn't recognize who you were, otherwise I wouldn't have been so informal!” With a bow, the man stood, and walked to the door, leaving immediately, not wanting to be alone in the room with the princess, most likely fearing what kind of assumptions would be made. 

This made the smile that had begun to form on the princess' face to fade, as she sat alone in the dark, waiting for the sound outside to die out. It was then that the door opened once again, revealing her mother in the doorway. Entering the room, and locking the door behind her, the queen approached the princess, and sat down, gently resting a hand on her back. 

“Are you okay, dear? You didn't have another attack, did you?”

The princess didn't answer verbally, and only shook her head. 

“That's good.” The queen said, taking a seat. “Oh, I know you hate these events dear, and I'm sorry that your father makes you take part... I just don't think he understands.”

“... you think?” the princess mumbled, prompting a small laugh from her mother. 

“You know how he is. I'm sure he doesn't mean to hurt you. He just thinks that exposing you will help you with your shyness, that's all.”

“It's not shyness.” The princess replied quickly, barely letting her mother finish first. “The doctors said so too, you know that. They said there's something wrong with me, with my brain.”

Angered now, the queen stood. “And I told you that they don't know what they are talking about. Your grandmother was the same way, and they never told her anything was wrong with her. She was just quiet and shy, the same as you.”

Knowing her mother wouldn't agree, the princess surrender. “Yeah, I know mom. You're right.”

Nodding, the queen smiled down at her daughter. “Thank you. There really is nothing wrong, I promise you. Now, I need to head back out there, okay? You can stay in here, join me, or excuse yourself, and head back to your room, alright?”

Nodding, the princess stood. “I think I'll go back to my room. I'll say I wasn't feeling well. Please tell daddy I accidentally ate salmon again.”

“Of course.” the queen said, opening the door for her daughter, before following her out. Just as they exited, a new song started to play, and a man with jet black hair and tanned skin approached the queen, and asked for a dance. Smiling at her daughter one last time, the queen accepted, and was swept onto the dance floor, while the princess retreated up the staircase, to her room.

A few songs later, the door the king and prince entered swung open, and the prince walked out looking deadbeat tired. After a quick scan of the room, he located who he was looking for, and briskly walked to her, only stopping to thank people, per his fathers orders.

Upon finally reaching Adriana, Ferdinand grabbed her hand and, after giving a quick glance around searching for his father, he led her out of the ballroom, and into the back garden, where they sat down under the stars. After ensuring that nobody was around to see them, the two locked in a tight embrace before kissing under the moonlight. When Ferdinand pulled away to speak, he was quickly pulled back into another kiss by his girlfriend, and just decided to go with it.

After almost fifteen minutes of this, the prince finally was able to speak.

“Adriana, we need to talk.” He said, looking a bit worried. “As you know, I'm getting shipped off to the military base soon for training, per fathers orders. I really don't know how soon I will be able to see you after that, considering I haven't been able to see you for three months already, and that's just because of normal business. So... I want to make our time tonight matter, don't you.”

It took her a moment, but it seemed like Adriana finally caught on, as she agreed with a rapid nod.

Smiling, the prince took her hand, and stood up while helping her to her feet, as well.

“In that case, what do you say we ditch this party, and find somewhere where we can be alone.”

“But... won't your dad kill you?” Adriana asked.

“I'm sure he will. But it'll be worth it. Not to mention, I'm only stuck with him for another month. Then I'm free.”

After thinking briefly, though most likely caught up in the moment, Adriana agreed, and let the prince take the lead. Laughing, the two ran off into the night, not to be seen by anyone until the following day, very, very much to the anger of Vlad, especially when it came time for the prince to give a speech, and him being nowhere to be found, leading to the formation of the rumour that Vlad, in anger at his son, bent a trumpet in half, before storming out to search for his son.