A Celebration

On the first day of the second month, a banquet was held in the Imperial Palace. Because of a funeral and the continuous disasters happening in the Kingdom, the King dissuaded the Director of Festivities from hosting a grand feast. Rather, he intentionally planned for the banquet to have at most his royal family, or at least those who were still in the Capital from the New Year. As for those who haven't returned or have left immediately, the King did not lose any sleep. Most of his clan were just idlers who didn't even live with outstretched hands. Rather, their mouths were perpetually open knowing they would be fed. 

Thus, the estimated attendance would only be roughly a hundred people, a very intimate number in comparison to usual events. Yet, even then, the King believed that was too much. However, this celebration was necessary for his Prince. It had been a month and the Prince must be given a name. 

Another reason left unsaid was that the King did not want the young prince from coming into contact with others yet. It's to be expected that letting others close will give ministers and aristocrats alike ideas of how to stuff their people into the Prince's door. The King has fallen prey many times in the past to these fastidious and quick-witted schemes. Sometimes, it would take him until he laid his head down on the pillow next to one of his lovely concubines to realize that he had been swindled that day.

In the King's changing chambers, attendants fluttered about preparing the Prince with opulent clothing. Since the moment imperial doctors determined that the Concubine was having a boy, the palace tailors have been working endlessly to provide the most beautiful accessories, clothes, bedding, and even handkerchiefs that would be used to wipe the Prince's drool. The workload was so heavy that even some of the seamstresses dedicated to the other royal children and mothers were recruited. No one dared to argue… At least, not outwardly. As for what they said in their heart, one could imagine another bloody storm coming so soon should a word slip. Ultimately, before the Prince was even named, he was given hundreds of outfits that will probably be outgrown in just a few months. 

In an hour and a half's time, the attendants finally settled on a blue satin suit dress decorated with exquisite lace tributed from the Gorejin regions and elegant, purposeless buttons that could easily add up to a golden ingot when melted all together. On top of his head, a small, jade-colored peak cap with crisp bells was placed, matching his tiny shoes that served more as socks. The room looked satisfied before his nanny covered him with a swaddle embroidered with golden silk. 

Throughout the process, the Prince changed a total of ten times, quietly fading between consciousness and unconsciousness while letting the attendants pamper him to their hearts delight. They have never seen such a good child before. With the little prince's behavior, they were able to get their work done quickly. It was because of their fanciful whims did the process take so long. In comparison, when the several princesses were born, whether it be dressing, bathing, feeding, or changing their diaper, nine times out of ten, the child would cry. Although it is in a baby's nature to cry, who told the princesses to be born royal? Naturally, since the day they were born, they were scrutinized with watchful eyes and open ears. No one dared to open their mouths inside the Palace walls, but gossip away from the nose of their supervisors was allowed, right?

With the prince already ready, the servants hurried out of the King's changing chambers, leaving only the Nanny, wet nurse, and two of four personal guards set for the Prince by His Majesty, the King.

The banquet was to be held in a few hour's time and the Prince should be fed, burped, and put down for a nap so that he could be fully rested for the big battle ahead.

Viscountess Antonia Bellinichi, the prince's nanny, smiled at the little boy in her arms. She was twenty-seven years old, married for only two years, and widowed without children. Her husband did not have any male relatives eligible to receive the title, so she was one of the few women in the Kingdom that was conferred. For the past ten years, in order to support herself as well as her husband's two younger sisters, she had been working in aristocratic households as a nanny.

According to many of her previous clients, she had very capable hands. However, in order for the children to not be too dependent on her, she usually left once the child was around four years of age, a year before the age of studying.

When she was given a referral for the position a few months ago, she was so surprised she accidentally pricked herself with her embroidery needle. More than a hundred applicants were present for the interviewing process and the competition was almost as fierce as the past harem selections. When the viscountess saw an interviewee planting washi powder to another, she finally realized that this job was going to be more vigorous than the backyard intrigues of her previous employers.

With this in mind, she believed it was in her best interest to not participate any further. She was a simple woman who was barely a noble. Her father was a baron and her husband had earned his title through battle. She didn't believe that she would be a good candidate in such an environment. So, the Viscountess did her best to stay low and not bring any attention to herself. She did not agitate others and when facing criticism by the examiners, she kept it in her heart to use in her work later. By the time she realized it, she was offered the job. 

Now, the young prince was in her arms. Such a beautiful baby, his features were open and his complexion was white and tender. Teasing his little nose with her finger, the Prince let out a tiny grunt while watching her face with his watery, doe eyes.

"Are you not tired, Your Highness? You have worked very hard just now," the nanny joked. As if to confirm her statement, the Prince snorted. With this, a bit of drool leaked from his mouth. The nanny diligently wiped his spit with a silk handkerchief then handed the baby to the wet nurse to feed. 

Turning away from the guards watching from the doorway, the wet nurse unbuttoned her tunic robe and undressed her breasts. Without needing to be coaxed, the Prince latched on a nipple and began to suck. Despite having just been fed two hours ago, the Prince fed for more than thirty minutes before burping in satisfaction. 

Not too long after, the Prince had his diapers changed and began to nod off.