Aurelia had only achieved a few short hours of sleep by the time her personal attendants woke her, opening curtains and setting out breakfast and filling the room with soft, excited chatter. Aurelia would normally have [i]vehemently[/i] opposed the early intrusion, but she knew as well as they did that today was a big day. 

She rose without protest, accepted an unusually hearty breakfast (oat porridge sprinkled with dried fruit and nuts as opposed to her usual meal of fruit and cheese) and allowed her handmaids to dress and groom her. If not for the date, it would seem like an almost normal morning. However, as she went about her routine, she was also giving orders and opinions as her rooms were torn entirely apart by both her own attendants and their apprentices, offering counsel on what to pack and where, invited or otherwise. She did, however, insist on packing her cosmetics personally, carefully arranging them in padded boxes to ensure none of them would spill or be broken; some of those little pots and jars were very rare and worth an inordinate amount of money, and many were gifts from her father, her brothers, or other figures of consequence looking to curry favour. They contained a wide array of salves, balms, pigments and perfumes of both the liquid and solid variety. 

When that was done, she set about packing away her other treasures, personally overseeing the packing of her jewelry after it had been unearthed from the palace vault. She always loved taking inventory of her jewelry, gorgeous pieces in largely sapphire and silver, ranging from grand collier necklaces to priceless earrings and gilded circlets, but it was a small consolation when she knew she was taking them with her only because she was leaving her life behind. 

It took all morning to get her affairs in order and by the time she sent the last of her things to the coaches, it was nearing noon, and her rooms were empty save for the furniture. Aurelia took only a moment to herself in the newfound silence to glance around the bare walls and empty shelves, look at the courtyard through the window she'd been using since she was a child. Down there, a procession of stagecoaches in royal regalia awaited to take her to her new home. She could see the few Firthian escorts down there as well, all yellows and blacks from the knights to the coaches, and she noticed that from this height, they looked rather like wasps. In all, it was a magnificent procession indeed, but to Aurelia it still looked like a slaver's caravan. 

Now, with the last of her things being loaded into the caravan (they had taken up about four stagecoaches in total, though she was pleased to see two others at the ready) her time was running out. Soon her father's knights would start lining up for a formal sendoff, as would her brothers and their families, all smiles and waves and childlike well-wishes as Aurelia stared down her fate. Her father would be there, dressed to the nines, sending her off to be wed to a foreign king in a far-off land, likely never to be seen again. 

But now was not the time for grieving. She would have plenty of time for that later. Now was the time for her to be a princess, and take up the reigns of her duty with pride. She tore her eyes away from the procession in the courtyard below and turned them to her vanity, one of the few possessions she wouldn't be taking with her. On it laid a twisted silver circlet with a single, teardrop-shaped sapphire nested at the front. In the vanity mirror she saw herself, raven hair gleaming in cascading waves over the shoulders of a light cloak, grey in colour and ornately embroidered with shining eagles. Underneath the cloak was a long-sleeved blue gown, rather plain by her standards, but better for travelling, and still much more lavish than anyone outside of noble circles would ever wear in their lifetime. The collar of her cloak concealed the dress' delving neckline, but all in all it was relatively demure a look for the Bastollion Princess. 

[i]Gods, I look like a commoner,[/i] she thought, sliding onto the padded vanity bench for the last time and giving herself a good, long look. Her emerald eyes shone with a glimmer of wetness, and a hard lump began forming in her throat as she looked on. She blinked hard, scowling into the mirror and breathing deeply to stretch her chest as she picked up the circlet and settled it on her head. 

[i]Too late to cry now,[/i] she told herself, [i]it's time to do your job.[/i]