It was late in the evening, and the orange glow of the sun was seeping in through the many windows that lined the long stone hallway. Along the walls were soldiers, all spaced equal distances apart from one another, standing sentry as always. The whole place gave an image of strength and control, and it wasn't long before the silence was broken, by the clear sound of heavy footsteps. Immediately, the soldiers stood even more at-attention than before, their spears at the ready, but never turning to greet the one who approached. That man was their King, a true giant of a figure, marching down the hallway in full armour. His expression and demeanour was one of stoicism, and despite his age he remained a formidable sight, so much so that even those trained men quivered at the sight of him as he passed them by.

The same could not be said, however, of the figure who followed in his footsteps. A smaller man, barely out of boyhood, clad in a garb similar to the King, albeit far less worn and used from the look of it. His head bore a mop of barely-kempt hair, and his face was one of timidity and uncertainty. He said nothing, merely following the King as he kept on moving forward. Many minutes passed before the two finally reached their destination, a door at the very end of the hallway, flanked by two additional guards, who instinctively saluted as their monarch drew nearer. When the King arrived, he halted, looking upon the door with narrowed eyes, before turning to look upon the meek young lad beside him. When he spoke, his voice was deep and commanding.

"Son...you are of age now. And that means one thing. You must choose."

But the boy seemed almost afraid of those words, his eyes darting from the door, to his Father, then back again, before settling on the King once more.

"But...but Father, I...I cannot do this! Just picking some girl I have never met? Just like that?"

However, the nervousness in the boy's voice fell on deaf ears, as the King frowned at the timidity on display before him.

"Listen to me, my boy. You know our traditions. The bloodline must continue, and I mean to ensure that it carries on long before my eyes have closed for the final time."

His eyes narrowed further as he regarded his son.

"Since I cannot be sure that you would be willing to go through such a thing when you are king, I mean to ensure that it occurs before the kingdom has to endure that...rather disappointing succession."

The young prince looked down at the ground, twiddling his thumbs at the obvious displeasure his Father was showing. But, in about the most affectionate display the older man could show, he slapped his son on the shoulder, which, given his strength, nearly made the boy fall to the ground. But, luckily for him, the prince kept on standing, looking up to the old King as he looked to the door before him.

"You need not fret, son. I have had my agents scour the kingdom for the fairest maidens we could find. I assure you, there is not a single lass behind those doors that would not make any man in our realm jealous of you."

The boy, needless to say, was far from calmed by his Father's words. But, rather than press his objection, he simply kept his mouth shut, looking down and nodding his head. The King, letting go of the boy, gave a nod to the two nearby guards, who saluted a second time before moving in unison, each grabbing hold of one of the two knobs of the door. Together, they opened it, and the King and prince soon entered the chamber together. As the prince had expected, there, lined up before him at the end of that chamber, were almost a dozen girls his age. His Father had the right of it when he said they were beautiful, as each would have had it in them to turn heads wherever they went. All were clad in the same garb, that of a simple knee-length cloth dress, all bearing a single shoulder strap.

As the King entered in earnest, and his son followed, the maidens all looked to the ground, waiting for the monarch before them to approach. But, among those girls, there were three, standing at the far end of the line, who, by contrast to the rest, did not seem nervous about this in the slightest. In addition to this, they also bore distinct hairstyles, one orange, one blue and one purple. On top of everything else, there was also one thing of note that set them apart, and that was that they all shared similar-looking necklaces, each with a faintly-glowing red jewel. While the King and prince looked to the girls on the other side of the line, these three looked to one another, with the one in the centre, bearing a particular smirk, whispered to the other two.

"Patience, my sisters. Patience."

The other two smiled in a similar manner, but nevertheless kept quiet, only looking up when the prince finally arrived at their spot. He was, as ever, nervous about this whole thing, and as he looked to each of the three girls, they smiled sweetly to him, which, if anything, actually made him feel worse about this matter. Letting out a sigh, he tuned looking to his Father once more.

"My King...I...I just do not know if I can go through with it. How can I be expected to spend the rest of my life with a girl I know nothing about?"

Many of the girls seemed unnerved about being near a confrontation between Father and son like this, but all stayed silent, instead watching as the old king approached his boy, frowning as before.

"Son...it is our tradition. Choose your bride."

His eyes narrowed.

"Or will we need to have words about this?"

The air in the room became like ice with that utterance, and many here, even the two stalwart guards nearby, wanted nothing more than to flee. But the prince stayed where he was, and in spite of his nervousness, still managed to look his Father in the eye as he spoke.

"I...I cannot."

Silence fell, and the nearby girls looked to one another with uncertainty and concern. That is, except for the three at the end of the line, who regarded this scene with curiosity, and, on the part of the one in the middle, calculation. As for the king, he regarded his son carefully, and, whether out of a need to keep up appearances, or if he was simply tired at this point, he said no words of anger. Instead, he simply let out a sigh before looking away from the boy.

"Very well. We will discuss this matter...later."

And with that, the older man turned, making his way out of the chamber. The son, looking more than a little relieved right now, let out a deep exhale, after which he began to meekly follow his Father out of the place. Once gone, the door was closed by the two guards, and with a moment of privacy at last, the girls within all started speaking to one another. There was all manner of things discussed, but for the three at the end, things were more serious. The one with the copious amount of orange hair folded her arms and stared at the door, while the blue-haired girl approached her.

"Adagio...what do we do?"

Adagio turned, regarding her for a moment before letting out a sigh.

"This is...a complication. But I assure you, this plan will work!"

The girl with the purple hair looked to her elder and scoffed somewhat.

"We should just use our..."

Briefly, she glanced over to the other nearby girls, before looking back to Adagio and speaking in a hushed voice.

"...we should just use our magic and be done with it."

But Adagio shook her head.

"No. Our power, while greater than anything these mere humans can use, is still weak right now. We have to be sparing with it."

Once more, she looked upon the door.

"We need to play things more...subtly. The boy is hesitant, and that makes the plan more difficult than expected. But..."

A sly smirk crept onto her face.

"...if he's unwilling to choose a bride now, then I believe we can work this to our advantage."

Aria folded her arms and raised an eyebrow at her sister.

"You truly believe that?"

A chuckle escaped Adagio as she turned to her middle sibling.

"Have faith, sister. All I need to do is pay him a small...visit."