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[CENTER][I]“The truth is only hidden to those who do not seek it.”[/i][/CENTER]
Bright light beat against Noah's eyelids, causing him to stir from his troubled slumber. The source was immediately apparent as his eyes blinked open; the golden radiance of his sigil shined right against his face from the awkward position he'd slept in. 

[color=FFCC00]"Mother...?"[/color] he mumbled, voice raspy from sleep. The dream was not spun from his own mind, then. That explained the clarity with which he remembered it, though the contents were puzzlingly cryptic regardless. It was certainly auspicious timing. Did the Goddess intend to speak with Her children again, as she did in William's day? Did She intend to speak with [i]him[/i]?

Noah sat up in bed with a yawn as he turned his attention to the bleary room, cloaked now in only the morning's gentle luminance rather than the brilliance of Incepta's Light. It was tempting to go back to sleep, but a servant would surely burst in soon to inform him of his family's preparations for the evening and urge him into action, as if Noah really needed to do anything besides get dressed. Perhaps lesser men needed to psych themselves up in the mirror before such an event, but the Scion of Light was not cowed by small talk with brown-nosers or the daunting thought of mustering the fortitude to stay awake through lengthy state events.

The door burst open.

[color=lightgray]"Good morning, Your Highness. Prince Rowan bade me summon you for-"[/color]

Ah, right on time.

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Noah checked the time on his phone as the city drifted leisurely past the window. That should be long enough. He'd grown briefly worried when talk of the Scion of Water took social media by storm far earlier than Noah had expected - to give her more time for pictures, no doubt - but thankfully most of the staff had learned that Noah was a just and magnanimous liege that would absolve them of any and all responsibility for their complicity when his father inevitably chastised them for their role in his schemes, and thus talking them into things wasn't the chore it had been when he was younger.

[color=FFCC00]"You can bring us in now,"[/color] he called to the driver, who was professional enough to not look outwardly relieved. Noah had demanded they take the scenic route through lovely Juniperus, and the traffic generated from the road closures around the cathedral certainly did not disappoint. As a Bachmeier, Noah was no stranger to sitting in the Cathedra Incepta for unconscionably long periods of time in anticipation of one inane event or another; he didn't need to arrive early just to listen to his cousin prattle on for the cameras.

Noah's head lolled back to the window as the limousine approached their destination, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at the way all the reporters' heads popped up like dogs that just heard the word 'walk'. Silently, he cursed himself for not having the forethought to ask if the press were allowed anywhere near the afterparty at Duke Whoever's manor. He only had so many of these performances in him in one night.

As the car rolled to a stop, he straightened his posture and prepared for his departure. The door was opened and Noah stepped out, his eyes briefly scanning the crowd as if he hadn't already been doing so immediately prior to his exit. His outfit wasn't particularly showy compared to the preceding Scions, and were he not easily recognizable to every soul in attendance, he could've almost blended in with one of the mundane guests. Almost.

It was a simple evening tailcoat, tailored very traditionally from black fabric. The lapels were trimmed with real gold thread and decorated in some ridiculous art deco pattern that his tailor assured him was 'in' right now (and, admittedly, he thought it was kind of sleek). The underlying waistcoat, though white, was likewise lined in gold, but the remainder of his outfit remained unostentatious in presentation. The only sizeable splash of color was the translucent orange of the magitech visor still present on his face, which Noah petulantly retained despite the occasion. 

The prince started toward the door with casual ease, as if he couldn't predict that he wouldn't be allowed to enter without being accosted. Predictably, a reporter shoved a microphone into his face before he'd even made it a quarter of the way down the carpet. Noah was tempted to pretend he hadn't seen the man and keep walking, but that would probably end in more trouble than it was worth. Instead, Noah glanced toward the camera for a brief moment, then settled his gaze on the reporter, who at least remembered to bow his head late rather than never.

"Your Serene Highness, I think I speak for the nation, if not the entire Federation, when I say we are all interested in the upcoming end of the regency when you are of age. Do you believe you're adequately prepared to step into the role of sovereign?"

Noah resisted the urge to make a face. He also resisted the urge to ask the man if he was an idiot. Not because it would be impolite, but because he was a journalist, so the answer was already obvious.

[color=FFCC00]"I think the people of Veradis can take solace in the fact that we, over any other nation, have a head of state most directly chosen by the Mother,"[/color] Noah began with a pleasant smile on his face, [color=FFCC00]"The Prince of Veradis is not crowned by Her subtle guiding hand working through the actions of men, but through Her explicit bestowal of the blessing of Light through the line of William. That is to say, of course I feel ready. The Goddess does not give us battles we cannot win."[/color]

That should do it. Noah could answer any follow up questions with an implication that this reporter was daring to question the will of the Mother. Fortunately, he had either gotten the hint or his desired soundbite, and thus the reporter turned away with a formal farewell to prattle on to the camera more.

With that handled, Noah made his way leisurely up the stairs into the Cathedral. Royalty should arrive last, after all.

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