[center][h2][color=#e58726]Amunemhet Ramesses Sipar[/color][/h2]
[h3][color=#ba4d1e]Prince of Egypt[/color][/h3][/center]

Shortly after Amun arrived in the ballroom, things started to become a little hectic. A veritable multi-national procession pulled up to the entrance in near-perfect synchronization, bringing with it the future of most of the world’s leadership. For the first time, he was struck by the idea that should some terrorist group want to organize an attack, this would be the [i]perfect[/i] time. Of course, he didn’t allow the thought to worry him; he knew perfectly well that his hosts had the matter under control. 

He was definitely impressed by Prince Niklas, the first to return his greeting. Amun took a near-immediate liking to the Prince; he’d clearly made an effort to be welcoming. Whether or not he was being sincere mattered little to Amun at the moment, while he returned the Prince’s warm grin, eyes bright. 

[color=#e58726]“I am honoured and impressed, Prince Niklas. My brother sends his blessings, as do I. The Pharaoh has been an admirer of your country for quite some time,”[/color] Amun replied honestly. He leaned in, as if he were sharing some inside joke. [color=#e58726]“He often looks to your country as an example in military affairs.”[/color] Amun found himself grateful that his brother had kept him up several nights researching the various figureheads he saw assembling. [color=#e58726]“As well,”[/color] he added, [color=#e58726]“I would be flattered to speak to you about Egypt, if you’d teach me about your culture.”[/color] Even better, he was telling the truth. He’d talk anyone’s ear off about Egypt, and happily at that. 

Soon a rather frail thing, arriving just after himself, caught Amun’s attention. He nearly mistook the girl for an attendant; luckily, her dress and posture stood starkly in the favour of her position as royalty. He felt a pang of something between fraternal concern and pity at the sight of her. The princess (Liviana of Lusitania, as he remembered from his research) carried herself almost painfully proper, as if she had something to prove. Pairing that with what he’d read (the dejected tenth child of a busy empire) Amun found himself wondering if she felt as insecure as her posture subtly suggested. 

Of course, he would not embarrass her by displaying his concerns. Carrying himself with confidence, he approached the princess and bowed again, taking her hand in his and touching its back to his forehead; an old, but respectful greeting. In his culture it was used by royal men toward royal anyone, but he hadn’t thought that many of the princes here would take kindly to the gesture. Toward women, however, he knew that many cultures shared similar greetings. [color=#e58726]“Charmed, Princess Liviana. I believe our two nations have had numerous dealings over the centuries.”[/color] He offered with a nod, [color=#e58726]“A beautiful culture, yours. Ours has learned much from it over time.”[/color]

The next to catch his eye strode in wearing traditional dress comparable to Amun’s own clothing and introduced himself as Akumatsu Hiko. He looked less than comfortable in his clothes, something that, while Amun couldn’t really identify with, he could understand. Sauntering up and offering a more stiff bow - closer to that given by the prince himself - Amun summoned a sly grin. 
[color=#e58726]“And here I thought I’d be the most dazzling one here,”[/color] he joked - an attempt to ease Hiko’s nerves. [color=#e58726]“In all seriousness, excellent work. I commend your tailor,”[/color] a good-natured laugh escaped him, and he struggled to regain some seriousness. [color=#e58726]“An honour to meet you, Prince Akumatsu.”[/color]

Next in line was Edwin of Britannia, who greeted all present rather curtly and rattled off a list of titles about a mile too long; as if Prince Amunemhet Ramesses Sipar of Egypt were one to talk. He seemed rather preoccupied and… Worried? Amun couldn’t tell. He chose to leave well enough alone, for now. 

At this point, Amun was rather enjoying himself. He had always loved gatherings, and as the crowd began to grow, he relaxed further. As long as he could remember, he’d adored the thrum of a crowd, and even one as nervous and unsure as a room full of unfamiliar royals. He drew disproportionate joy from each greeting as they came, every one without fail referring to him as Prince Amunemhet. Now, [i]technically[/i] they were all addressing him wrong: The culturally proper greeting would have been to use his middle, or [i]crown[/i] name, Ramesses. It was a rather recent etiquette, having come from his own dynasty. Many fathers, sons and brothers in his dynasty shared first names (he, his brother and his father all shared Amunemhet, for example) and using the middle names as identifiers had become a matter of respect. His father was called Tuthmose, his brother Menes, and he, Ramesses. However, Amun had always preferred the nickname, and would not be correcting any of the royals who greeted him as such.

Now that newcomers were being essentially bombarded with greetings, Amun allowed himself to sink into the party a bit, finding himself some champagne and waiting for things to calm a bit before overwhelming the new arrivals. However, in the middle of sharing a laugh with his attendant (who also happened to be a childhood friend named Tuyat) one particular guest caught his - and likely, everyone’s - eye. 

The sight of her made his laughter fade as he became distracted, not particularly by her beauty (although of that, there was no question) but by how utterly [i]different[/i] she was from the other arrivals. She was a welcome burst of brightness, gleaming in her dress and jewels. Her hands and arms were adorned with delicate patterns (something he especially admired, seeing that Egyptians shared a cultural love of henna) and she walked with a careful purpose, cordially introducing herself to the attendees. However, Amun didn’t need her introduction to recognize her; he’d seen her image and her name more than any others. She was Meenakshi Banerjee, Princess of Arudhya. 

She also happened to be his future wife.

Without looking, Amun handed his glass off to Tuyat, who donned a smug grin and made herself scarce. He strode forward, gut trembling as if someone had released a throng of locusts inside it. Oddly enough, he was nervous; meeting one’s fiancée for the first time tended to do that. He approached with a delicate step, waiting patiently for Niklas to say his pleasantries and move on. 

Half-awestruck, half-eager, he moved to stand before her and bowed low. Much like he had with Liviana, he took Meenakshi’s hand in his; however, instead of touching it to his forehead, he gently kissed its back. Rising again, he cleared his throat and did his best to wipe the uncertainty from his face.

[color=#e58726]“Princess Meenakshi,”[/color] he croaked, quickly recovering with a chuckle and a self-deprecating smile, [color=#e58726]“It is a privilege to meet you, you look… You’re a vision.”[/color] He allowed himself to exhale, visibly calmer. Still, he held eye contact with the Princess. [color=#e58726]“I am Prince Amunemhet - call me Amun. I believe we’re engaged to be married."[/color]

[hider=TL;DR]
-Amun greets Niklas, Liviana, Hiko, decides to leave Edwin to his thoughts, and introduces himself to Meena as her fiancé.
-Points out in narrative that everyone is addressing him wrong (should be using his middle name/ 'crown name', being Ramesses) but has absolutely no problem with it - prefers Amun anyway
-Gets a bit flustered when he meets Meena, understandably - I'd be freaked too if I was meeting my (future) wife for the first time[/hider]