[center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/231117/4397e947d9496e89a02a516a94d678c6.png[/img][/center][hr]Maya had never once regretted her move to Juniperus. Aside from the everyday benefits it carried for a Scion like herself, today it meant that she got to do all of her preparation for the Millennium Festival in her own penthouse - a relief, since she packed her day even more fully than a normal event would demand. It wouldn’t normally take several hours just to choose an outfit and do her makeup for the evening - not even [i]she[/i] could stretch the process out that long on her own - but stopping every few minutes to re-record a clip for a Get Ready With Me or to post one of several different pictures of her breakfast really made the process drag on. 

And it was all [i]very[/i] necessary. And not just the same kind of necessary that she always insisted to Edmund that [i]every[/i] Instagram post was, but [i]especially[/i] necessary. Maya had been hyping up the Millennium Festival for weeks, and her followers expected detailed coverage. More importantly, she had deals and collabs set up with brands for everything from her hydroflask to her nail polish, and everything needed to be photographed in the right light and at the right angle - but subtly, of course. She wasn’t a sellout. 

There was a bit of chaos, a few shrill profanities thrown around, but by the time the limousine came Maya had wrapped her day (and more importantly, her social media posts) into a neat little bow. Her dress was elegant enough for the red carpet but demure enough for a church function: long sleeves and a high neck covered most of her skin, but a slit in the neckline stopped her from looking like a seventeenth century dame, and modest gold accents glittered like stars against the midnight purple fabric. A matching gossamer veil completed the look, almost blending in with her hair if not for the tiny gold beads flecked throughout; her favourite piece of the night, since it came from a brand new sponsor of hers. The picture she posted of the completed outfit was already racking up likes as she and Edmund got into the limo. 

The ride to the Cathedra Incepta was short, but long enough to be awkward; Edmund usually didn’t ride with her, and it showed. Regardless, she took a selfie on the drive with him in the background, knowing that her fans would eat it up - they had made a game out of picking Edmund out of pictures, and they loved ammunition for their search. And, brooding or not, Maya would begrudgingly admit (but never out loud) that he cleaned up decently nice; the white Templar uniform was a nice change from the edgy dark clothes he usually chose, even if the purple accents did kind of make them look like prom dates. Maya shuddered at the thought. 

Aside from forcing Edmund to take a picture of her in front of the Cathedra Incepta, the ceremony itself was boring; sacred oaths, fancy light show, same thing she’d done herself two years back and witnessed a couple of times since. Maya supposed it was cool if you were into dusty old tradition, which meant that Edmund should have been having a blast, but not even Sir Knight himself seemed enthused by the display. Of course, that could have been because his panties were still in the same twist they’d been in since the news first broke about Sir Tyler’s appointment - tighter, perhaps, given that his usual dignified scowl was now coloured with shades of very real disdain at the sight of the returning Templar of Time. 

Maya couldn’t deny herself a coy little smirk at the display. It was so hard for [i]anyone[/i] to get a rise out of her duty-bound protector, this was a rare treat indeed. She knew on some cerebral level the source of Edmund’s animosity, but she neither shared nor cared to understand it; she [i]did[/i], however, care to push his buttons a little bit. It was a special occasion, after all. 

[color=7041A5]“Aw, isn’t it inspiring?”[/color] Maya asked in a whisper, leaning so that only her Templar could hear her. [color=7041A5]“I remember when that was you and me up there, don’t you?”[/color] She smiled sweetly up at Edmund; he knew her well enough to see that the smile didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

Beyond her brooding Templar, of far more interest to Maya than the blessing ceremony were the other figures in attendance. Kasper and Justinian she knew in passing - the former had been the adopted pride of Doumerc since long before she ever became a Scion, and the latter was like an algorithm barnacle on just about every social media platform frequented by teenage boys - and she and [i]Princess Belle[/i] over there were well-acquainted; it was amazing how much one can get to know someone through insincere pleasantries and venomous looks alone. 

But the rest were a little less familiar. The big one she recognized by his sheer size, remembering him as the middle-aged Scion of Fire whose name didn’t match his home country, even though she couldn’t precisely recall either; the girl scarfing down cookies was the Scion of Wind, Holly-something, whom Maya knew only enough to know this seemed on-brand; Maya got to hear all about Marchioness Lucienne’s heroic efforts for the poor and downtrodden every time she blessed a hospital, so she neither needed nor desired any introduction; and of course, despite living in the Holy City, Maya had never really met the little princess of Veradis - that giant guard dog of hers they called a Templar usually kept her at arm’s length. A freakishly long, man-ish arm’s length. 

The last one, though - the plain-looking chick who didn’t ring any bells, seemingly by design - Maya couldn’t remember which one she was. Which, by process of elimination, meant she must have been the Scion of Metal, whose ceremony Maya had attended only six months ago and whose name Maya had forgotten at precisely the same moment she learned it. No worries; if anyone from the media asked about the other Scions, they always prefaced the question with their name anyway. 
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