The world is a bold one, a brave one, where adventure reigns, and magic flows freely, full of wondrous vistas, powerful feats, and impressive people.

For good or for ill, Azerosa is much like Oz - for it is both Great and Terrible, in equal measure.  The greatest heroes must contrast themselves against the most horrible villains.

Like the ones that even now should soon awaken within the almost bucolic realm of Villarosa - the Heroine, and the Villainess, of a romance that will shake this world to its core.

...Though, if she has any say in the matter, the Villainess of Villarosa will be opting out of the world-shaking part of this plan.

Speaking of world-shaking...

The Kingdom of Villarosa is, by most definitions, not a world power.  It doesn't have huge stretches of land or huge armies or take part in many huge wars.

What it does have is magic.  Well, everyone has magic, but Villarosa has schools of magic.  The Royal Academy of Villarosa is famed around the world for the archmages it's produced.  Several other schools in the kingdom are scarcely behind it.  A lot of the graduates stay in Villarosa between their adventures - not anywhere near all of them, but enough that wise rulers and generals and archmages make sure not to get too far on the wrong side of Villarosa.

And the King of Villarosa is happy not to disturb that balance.

The Crown of Villarosa is an elective monarchy.

The King or Queen is elected by the Grand Assembly, which's chosen from the various Shire Assemblies (elected in turn by the people) and the Archmage Conclaves and the nobility, according to... well, it's a complicated system that's added on encrustments and epicycles over generations.  And then, the Grand Assembly is usually called every several years during their reign to put in their word on whatever they want to.  No one said everyone gets an equal voice or vote, but everyone gets a voice and vote, which is far and above most other places in the world.

King Ambrose Laertes wouldn't have it any other way.

(Otherwise, they probably wouldn't have chosen him king in the first place.)

The Royal House of Vaudelle dates back to Queen Aurelia, King Ambrose's mother.  She was Duchess of Thorn before being chosen Queen, but she passed on that title to her brother and chose to name her family "Vaudelle" to signify a new beginning.  She trained her son Ambrose in hopes the Assembly would give him the crown after her - and they did, which wasn't at all to be taken for granted.

He's hoping that one of his children will be ready to take the crown in turn after him, but... well, that certainly isn't to be taken for granted, the way Princess Alicia's been behaving.

(Aurelia's brother almost immediately passed the title to the woman who had long since been rumored Queen Aurelia's Left Hand - but the sleight-of-hand of titles obscured the now-Her Grace Ophelia Ferrule's installment from open scrutiny, which she quite preferred.  She has always been more comfortable in the shadows.)

...yes, Dad, how has Alicia been behaving?

...Dear gods.

...Really, as far as spoiled royal brats go, this one was positively tame - if a bit full of hubris, which has at least ensured her illicit experiments with Light and Chaos have had Light in more than sufficient quantity to keep her safe from Chaotic backlash and the consequent mutations.

"Your Highness?"

A young woman's hesitant voice comes from outside the curtained bed, in the early morning sunshine.

"Mhrmgl?  I mean - yes?  Is it morning, again?  ...I mean.  Of course it is.  You'd hardly be here, otherwise."  She yawns, blearily rubbing her eyes.  "...I have been having the worst nightmare, I'm not going to be quite right at all, today.  And given how vivid it was..."

She sighs.  "But that's hardly your duty."

(Her Highness only wakes up promptly when she's not on her usual schedule.  Much has been tried to fix that; little has proven worth the effort.)

"...Is there something I must attend to?"

"I'm sorry, Your Highness?" she ventures.  "You'll remember your parents did invite you to breakfast together today, if you feel willing to get out of bed now..."

She's not going to phrase it as a "must"; she doesn't want to try forcing Princess Alicia to do anything.  Unless the Queen tells her to, which isn't that unlikely here now that she thinks about it...

"There's not anything you should be apologizing for, I should think."  She pinches the bridge of her nose.  "Laying in never works anyway; I'll get up.  Despite the part of me that wishes I could justify delaying, out of petty spite for people expecting me to function in the morning.

"...That would be inexcusably rude to the chef, though, so...that's just right out.

"...Mother's not done it formal, has she?"

She's already rolling out of bed, with a quiet grumble.

Alicia doesn't want to be rude to the chef?  No, it couldn't be; she's obviously quoting what her mother would say.  And explicitly naming her petty spite here in private is like Alicia.

"Not formal, Your Highness.  But perhaps the red or blue dress?"

She did say she was going to be out of sorts!

"...The blue, I think."

...She has dresses!  ...She has memories of wearing dresses and not spontaneously combusting!

That's...pretty good!

Rill takes the blue dress out of the wardrobe and helps Alicia into it.

(And Rill helps her out of her nightgown if she isn't slipping it off on her own.  But, if Alicia tries to put on the dress on her own, she's going to have some nasty surprises - even the Princess's less-formal dress has some lacing in back which needs to be undone before it's put on, and then redone afterwards with two hands that aren't craning around your shoulders.)

Alicia will notice her nightgown is pure white with a rose embroidered on the bodice, and the blue dress has several flowers embroidered together with lacework around the neck and skirts.

Well, that's what magic is for!  And-or slipping your hands around the back under your shoulders.  That also works.  Sometimes.

Rill's help is appreciated, regardless; she hardly wishes to step on it.  "Thank you," - pause - "Rill."

...Oh, she has a bodice!

A small one, as of yet, but...

The gender!

Rill is surprised at Alicia using magic to help, and several times ends up tugging one way on something Alicia's already tugging the other way with magic.  It doesn't help that Rill is a lot more used to actually lacing up this sort of dress than Alicia is.

She's even more surprised at the thanks.

"- Of course, Your Highness," she says after a moment.

"Oop, ah - oh, there we go - it's all done up alright?  I can hardly see back there...well, if I did an ice mirror, but, no."

...She thought she might hear a response like that.

"...That nightmare - put a lot in perspective.  So.  I'm...trying to be better.  Kinder.  Less...thoughtlessly presumptive.  And more - personally capable."

She doesn't know what to say to that.  "Thank you" would probably be rude; "best wishes" would probably sound too sarcastic...  What would be something the Queen might say?  No, no, that definitely wouldn't be the right answer.  All right, what's something the King might say?  Or one of the stewards?

After a couple dumbfounded moments, Rill says, "I hope your plans work, Your Highness."

A moment later, she picks up the Princess's hairbrush, wondering what will be different next.

...This she would like Rill's help with.  Hair is...annoying.  Though she probably could...  But...no.  She will let the grooming instinct work.

"...I hope they do too; so much will eventually ride on them that I almost flinch from contemplation thereof."

Is the Princess thinking several years ahead to the Royal Academy?  Or hoping to eventually take the throne?  Or become an archmage and render extinct whatever that nightmare was about?  Or has she overheard some plot of Duchess Ophelia's she's trying to twist?

... Whatever.  Rill isn't asking.  At least not yet.

Soon, everything's ready, and Rill opens the door and stands aside to let the Princess go first.  "The Tulip Patio, Your Highness."

And she shall join her family there.

...It's not really the best sign that this feels so familiar from both lives.  She wonders how Lila's holding up...

Good question!

For all the magic of Villarosa, it hasn't invented magical long-range telepathy.  At least not anything that two twelve-year-old girls can do when they haven't met each other yet in these bodies.  So she'll need to wait.