[center][h3][color=b069d4]Liviana Traianus of the Lusitanian Empire[/color][/h3][/center][hr][hr]

	Even after sixteen years of it, Liviana was still not entirely used to jolting awake in the pitch dark to searing pain all through her body. She definitely wasn’t expecting a crisis on the one night in her life that she’d not had a maid watching over her, either. As she jolted awake, terror gripped her and she instantly found herself unable to breathe or move or do anything, just immobilized with pain with tears streaming down her face. Aeli would wake up soon, Aeli would get her medicine and hold her until the pain dulled.

	But no she wouldn’t; she was half a world away. No one else could help. Liv let out a desperate whine, writhing around as she tried to get a grip on the pain. She was proud, and she was stubborn. She gritted her teeth, stifling her cry, trying to force the rest of her body to relax– as she knew from the past, tensing would only increase the pain, not to mention exacerbate her respiratory issues. Her left hand reached out to the bedside table, fingers closing around the small dish that held a dose of her fastest acting pain medicine (kept by her bed for just this purpose.) She clumsily dropped the tablet into her mouth, holding it under her tongue and counting the seconds, knowing she just had to endure it for three more minutes and then the medicine would start taking effect and she could breathe and think again.

	The pain subsided to a dull ache in her chest and bones, likely the best it was going to get. With a muffled whimper the girl tried to roll to her feet – if she was awake, she might as well be up and doing things actively. Of course, pain dulling her mind, she conveniently forgot that she couldn’t just roll to her feet, and so wound up on her knees with her face pressed into the bed, fighting to not pass out or throw up. Finally, shaking and sweating, the small girl forced herself to her feet, leaning heavily against the wall, chest heaving as she gasped for air.

	Gods, it was times like this, alone and shaking and in the dark, that she desperately wished Aelia was with her. One of her best friends and her handmaiden – but Aeli had made the (honorable) decision to stay in Lusitania, as she was heir to her father’s place in the Lusitanian senate. Liv’s parents had, of course, been rather unable to spare any of the household guards (or even servants, for that matter) with the Festival of Spes, not to mention her elder brother’s wedding, coming up. 

	Or at least that’s what they said. Liv knew that the numbers could have been shifted around a bit, to provide her with at least one escort. It was just a (not-so)-subtle statement that Liv was clearly barely an afterthought.

	The girl mentally slapped herself, forcing herself to stop wallowing in pity. Who really cared that she was small and sick and all alone? A true daughter of the empire would not be so saddened by a chance to prove her worth entirely on her own terms.

	Emboldened by that thought, Liv forced herself away from the wall, though she nearly fell again. She wobbled to the bathroom, determined that pain or not she was going to look her very best to do pride to her people and her country.

	Almost an hour later, as the sun was just peeping over the horizon, a much-refreshed Liv wandered out of the bathroom, standing before the closet, reaching for the dress that she decided she was going to wear for the first meeting with the other royals. A dark violet dress, more or less in the traditional loose tunic style of her people, though the skirt (which only brushed her knees) was far too short for everyday wear in Lusitania. An ivory wrap to cover her otherwise-bare arms and further mask the (lack of) shape of her figure. She laced up her brown leather sandals, a rather delicate pair that only wrapped a few times around her ankles, and quickly slipped her lunula amulet over her head, though she tucked the pendant itself under her dress and wrap, the cold metal kiss of the goddess against her skin to soothe her mind.

	She hesitated for a moment, rummaging around to find her makeup bag, then took a seat in front of the mirror. This would be the long part, doing her hair and makeup without Aeli’s skilled hands to help.

	As expected, making herself up took more than an hour, but at last she was left with a (somewhat messy, though artfully messy, she told herself) braided updo and a full face of cosmetics: bright gold eyeshadow, winged eyeliner, and heavy mascara to make her eyes bigger, a generous dash of blush and highlighter in an effort to bring color to her pale face, and a soft red lipstick. She was actually rather proud of the end result, all things considered... sure, she did still have the size of a child, but at the least she might to a first glance pass as someone sixteen or seventeen.

	A soft sigh escaped the girl’s lips as she turned to survey the room, eyeing what all needed to be brought with her. She supposed that in the grand scheme of things she hadn’t brought all that much—just one suitcase of clothing and a duffel bag with all the essential things, plus the cloth-wrapped package that was to be her gift to the royals of Aciras. 

	With another sigh she levered her duffel bag over her shoulder, though it nearly tipped her over, and grabbed her suitcase, cradling the cloth-of-gold wrapped box under her free arm. Thus encumbered, she proceeded to exit the room.

	She’d been staying at a hotel, of course – the shortest available trip from Lusitania to Aciras had been a grand total of sixteen hours, with three layovers, and of course Liv couldn’t have been expected to go to a social gathering after all of that. So instead she’d spent the night at a (thankfully) rather fancy hotel. At least, it was fancy enough to have a limousine service, one of which was reserved for her.

	Of course, when she approached the driver she had another problem – he raised an eyebrow at her, incredulous, when she gave him her name, and made no move to do his job.

	[color=b069d4]“My name is Liviana Traianus.”[/color] She said, for what seemed the thousandth time, anger making her accent heavier, the words almost unintelligible. The driver stared at her impassively, as ever. Finally in exasperation the girl rummaged through her purse, producing her ID and slapping it down into the driver’s hand. He peered at it for a moment, even passing it under a black light, before finally straightening up and offering the girl a small bow as he passed her card back.

	“Forgive me, your highness, but for someone of your station I expected someone a little more…” the driver trailed off for a moment, a bit of a flush coming to his face, and abruptly reached for Liv’s bags, taking them from her (and nearly tipping her over when he took the duffel off of her shoulder) and placing them into the trunk of the vehicle. Then he opened the door for Liv with a slight bow. “Your highness.”

	The small girl was debating just not getting in, but she forced herself to be reasonable. Being petty would solve nothing. So she clambered into the limousine with only a muttered ramble.

	[i][color=b069d4]“Qui superae, dicit... Qui pulcherior? Qui… fortior? melior? Sed di caela mihi ponor… ita maneo.”[/color][/i]

	Despite her words the girl internally played back the thoughts. Oh, he was right. She was out of her depth and wouldn’t be taken seriously and it was just all a horrible, horrible idea… she thought back to the other girls who were here, thought back to the files that the soldiers back home had printed out for her – she’d insisted on having no part in social media or even the internet at all, out of respect for tradition, so other people would provide her information – Did she really deserve to stand next to Mai Mei, beautiful, graceful Mai Mei who’d successfully led a country through rebellion? All Liv had ever done was cry. Cry and shut people out and break promises – why was she here, amongst these capable, powerful young ladies and gentlemen?

	She’d been so lost in thought that she almost didn’t notice that the vehicle’s forward progress had stopped. Not until the limousine driver came to open the door for her, helping her out. Rude and condescending he might have been, but he’d gotten her here safely, and it was always a good idea to give thanks for that. She pressed a semuncia, a small-value copper Lusitanian coin, into his palm. It would be a fascinator more than anything else, but still, it was something.

	Then she turned to face the open gates, and the royals waiting inside. As before she was suddenly acutely aware of her vulnerability. What had she been thinking, letting her parents send her alone?

	She didn’t even realize she had started walking until she was inside the castle. She didn’t quite know what she was expecting – maybe some hard looks, a few people pointing and a couple snickers. She didn’t expect outright /laughter/ from the press, or the hard, disbelieving stares she could feel burning into her back. As she walked her body tensed – by the time she stood before the king and queen of Aciras, she was holding herself so painfully taut that it seemed as though a gust of wind would provide all the necessary tension to break her spine.

	The little girl gave a deep curtsy, carefully holding the box that contained her gift. She held the curtsy for a moment as she spoke softly, her accent very pronounced in her rolling Rs, silent Vs, and odd inflection. Her voice even higher and more shaky than usual. [color=b069d4]“Your Majesties, your highness. An honor to be here is it- a great honor, to myself and my family and all of my people. I am Liviana Traianus of the Lusitanian Empire. If I may, gifts I have—I have brought gifts for your house, as a mark of the appreciation of my empire.”[/color] She flushed as she fumbled her words, realizing that she’d gotten some of her English word order backwards and some of her noun endings wrong. She knelt then, taking the moment as an excuse to look down and make her blush less apparent as she placed the large gold-wrapped bundle on the floor and unwrapped it, revealing a glossy oak case. With shaking fingers she unfastened the latches on it, revealing inside an ornately embellished sword and dagger pair in the style of the ancients. Functional enough, sharp and well-balanced, but more designed as dress pieces, to make a statement.

	She would have said more describing her gift, but she didn’t trust herself to not fumble the words. Instead she rose, a bit awkwardly – thankfully, one of the servants of the Aciras nobles rushed forwards to take the box. The moment they did, Liv again offered another curtsy to the hosting nobles and then took her leave, wandering to one of the walls along the side of the room so that she would not be so prominent. Surely if no one could see her they’d stop looking at her, right? Besides, it was always better to observe first… And she had not yet seen her betrothed. The picture from the file was ingrained in her memory, had been for the better part of a month. She was sure she would recognize him the moment he arrived.

[hider=tldr]
Liv wakes up in the wee hours of the morning having a pain crisis thanks to her illness!
Bemoans the fact that she came/was sent alone without any sort of entourage.
Struggles of trying to be independent.
Gets into a spat with her limo driver
Existential crisis
Being laughed/stared at by reporters/npcs
Has a mild internal panic attack while presenting herself to the king and queen of Aciras
Wanders out of the spotlight ASAP.[/hider]