Dead prince(ss) [bl]

Heretical Suns 1

"𝖂𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖉𝖔𝖊𝖘𝖓'𝖙 𝖐𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖒𝖊 𝖇𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝖗𝖚𝖓." ― 𝕷𝖊𝖎𝖌𝖍 𝕭𝖆𝖗𝖉𝖚𝖌𝖔, 𝕾𝖎𝖝 𝖔𝖋 𝕮𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖘

Chapter 1. Tsars Rich Palace.
When your country loses all its fortune, the Rich Palace  is the worst place you could go. If you assume the sight of him will make you feel better, I assure you, you indeed ASSUME. Its splendor just hurts.
The palace is just a vacation residence, but it is better in every way than any you will ever visit. When you look at it from a distance, you will immediately notice the golden window frames, door handles, ornaments, figures in the shapes of previous tsars and tsarinas, and the famous Golden Fountain. This warm decoration contrasts with the silver gate and carriages, as well as blue forget-me-nots and painted roses and daisies that grow nowhere else for more than a day. Maybe it's a paint thing? Or special water? I have no idea, but they look amazing, so I can't complain since I had the opportunity to see them. The Worthy Palace is also distinguished by a purple roof and a special yellow tower - belonging to the future Tsar of Dnardia.
And I'm sorry - I didn't mention it. He's the reason I'm here. Today is his eighteenth birthday. He's throwing a big party, as always. I don't know why I would go there, but once I received the invitation, refusing would be like declaring war. Considering how devastated my country was by breaking the pacts with Moira's country, I prefer not to risk war. My people are starving. I don't want them to be in danger of being attacked by the united forces of Dnardia.
The courtyard was crowded. The carriages formed a long, winding queue, and more were arriving every now and then. It was literally like the whole world was invited to the party. When my patience ran out and I felt like jumping off the carpet to end my torment, I simply got out of the carriage. I smiled to myself and slowly walked to the front door of the palace. Why should I make my life difficult? It's bad enough that I don't know if I want to be here and I think the answer leans towards the negative. I don't need to depress myself even more.
I brazenly pushed myself in front of Princess Evengral and, regardless of her protests, I did not stop or turn around. I saw a huge hall that, despite being a vestibule, was almost as big as the ballroom in my palace (yes, of course, I also have my own palace, but it is mortally and humiliatingly small in comparison). In the middle of the room there was a staircase forking in half. They were perfectly polished and I'm sure there wasn't an ounce of dirt on them. The line of guests had gathered again in the middle. The invitations were probably checked there.
I took the decorative paper from my pocket and grabbed the sealed envelope in my hand. They were checking her. A letter can be forged, but gold sealing wax cannot. Or at least that's the rumor I hear in my area. I haven't visited Dnardia for a long time. I knew the prince when I was a child and we even became friends, but it was ten years ago and I don't remember anything about it. It happens. The line moved quite quickly, so a moment later I moved to the front. While waiting, I managed to look around those gathered and notice that they were mostly women dressed in yellow. I felt like an intruder in a way, among the daffodils and bright dresses. I looked down at my black suit and adjusted it to at least look like I could be there. For a moment I was afraid I was in the wrong place, even though I knew that couldn't be possible.
I handed the butler the letter, and he looked at the sealer and then at me. I froze when I saw his appraising look. He read the text on the parchment slowly and carefully and handed it back to me.
'On behalf of His Highness the Prince of Dnardia, I cordially welcome you to the reception. Have a nice evening.' He said in my native language.
'Tanak'. I replied in Dnardic. Thank you.
I climbed to the top of the stairs, straightened my jacket, and entered the ballroom without further thought. The sight of her left me speechless. It was huge, all gold, with thirty-eight chandeliers with huge candles giving a lot of glow, with tables groaning with food, the entire wall was lined with shelves with various types of alcohol and... oh my lord... everyone here really is dressed in yellow. Is this some special dress code that is so obvious that they didn't mention it in the invitation and I'm committing a faux pas? I swallowed loudly and decided that I would try to blend in with the crowd as much as possible and not draw attention to myself.
I slowly went down the stairs, trying not to trip on the slippery material. When I set foot on the dance floor, I straightened up and relaxed. I fixed my hair and went to hide somewhere near the wine shelves. Getting through the large and crowded hall was something of a challenge. I trampled on a few ladies, was hit painfully in the ribs a few times (ah, how I love being tall), but I made it to my destination. There were thousands of bottles of liquor there, and it seemed like heaven. I took sparkling wine, which I didn't like, but it's weak, so at least I won't look like an alcoholic who came here to drink three barrels of wine and stare at beautiful princesses from other kingdoms or empires.
I stood against the wall, looking for someone familiar to start a conversation with. When someone dressed in black, like me, appeared in my field of vision, I immediately decided to approach him. I grabbed his arm and gave him a smile.
'Dakra' I said cheerfully. Good morning.
'Dakra.' Replied the stranger. 'Wi serleto de Per?' - Where are you from?
'Fra. Kamdun'. - From afar. From Kamdun.
'Prince Racquas?' He asked surprised in Kamdunian.
I frowned and looked at him more closely. The blood drained from my face. Short, blond, freckled, with a still childish face. I didn't recognize the birthday boy. Now I regret not drinking something stronger.
'Hmm... Starkovic wasn't joking, you really have changed.'  I said, pretending that I didn't recognize him and that's why I didn't go to wish him well earlier. It's not that I feel prejudiced against him, but I feel prejudiced against him. 'Happy birthday, Prince Eric!' I smiled and extended my hand to him.
The Dnardian heir to the throne looked at my hand in confusion, and after some thought, he bent down so that my hand landed on his hair. As surprised as he was a moment ago, feeling awkward, I ruffled his hair (what was I supposed to do?) and, trying to sound funny, I said:
'Oho! What a reaction... Not what I expected.'
'Oh my, was that tactless? Psahir.' – Shit. 'I didn't mean to offend you in any way, I promise! But... I don't know anything about Northern customs... It's humiliating and shows my ignorance, but... well, I don't know what other than a friendly pat on the shoulder or a fix of the hairstyle this gesture could mean.' He replied with an apologetic and silly face.
'Well, in the North, we greet each other by shaking hands with the other person.' I held out my other hand towards the first one, which imitates Erick's hand 'And the other person grabs it like that... and then you just shake it up and down.'
Erick was staring at me like I was stupid, so I grabbed his wrist and presented it again. I rolled my eyes at his fake and definitely learned interest. Tsa... you can immediately see that he is a spoiled prince.
'Hmm... thank you for... a valuable lesson. You might ask what brings you here? It's a bit strange that you're here.'
'Excuse me? You sent the invitation yourself!'
Erick looked at me, blushing from neck to forehead:
'It was nice to see you again, sorry, but I should say hello to the others.'
I watched him nervously walk away, thinking only about how unlucky I was to have met him, of all the people in the world. I adjusted my suit, took the drink the waiter offered me and almost spilled it on me when Princess Siral - my dear childhood friend - crossed my path.
'What do you all have with these yellow dresses?' I asked straight out.
'It's the prince's favorite color. Are you wearing black as usual?' She looked at me and rolled her eyes. 'Where's Racksie?'
'My sister received an invitation to some meeting... they didn't write anything special, but it sounded military. We were all surprised... and I'm still here.'
Siral looked at me surprised. 'So what brought you here?'
'You too? You're already the second person to ask me this! I got an invitation, so I'm here.' I replied, irritated.
'This is a ball to which each country was supposed to send a pretender to the position of tsarina... Am I to understand that you are Kamdunia's chosen one? Sorry, I didn't expect it after north!'  

I spat my drink on myself. 'What?!'

English is not my native language, so if you see any mistakes - no matter if in the dialogue or grammar - please tell me 😍😍😍

I was translating this from my Polish story (also on wattpad: acc name is polcia9999) so I may have made some mistakes 🥲

I HOPE YOU LIKED IT, HAVE A NICE DAY!