This family really likes outings. As the weather has warmed, my parents have taken my brother and I out for boat rides, picnics, church services, festivals, barn-raisings, tours, fishing, apple-picking, shopping trips, errands, excursions and snacks. The Duke tried to sneak us along for a hunt, but he was overruled. Apparently the duke's huntmaster believed that my father was likely to get so excited by a hunt that he was likely to put a child down in the woods, intending to come back in a few seconds to retrieve us.... and the duke shamefaced agreed that he was easily distracted by baying hounds and fleeing hares.

  Madame Cushnere started dressing us differently. Less swaddling, fewer onesies. She made sure that I was wearing shoes when we went out to the park for a fireworks demonstration. Nathan was crawling, and I was doing a bad job of walking. Their Graces were ecstatic to watch us go, with me toddling ahead a few steps and waiting for him to catch up. Nathan would follow anywhere with me. I braced a hand on a bench and supported myself while I tried to give him a hand up and get him standing, but it was still too early. He flopped onto his butt and laughed. I laughed with him.

  Fireworks, however, was not what I expected. Rather than fuses and sparks, this was just a handful of men and women with shining medallions around their necks, walking up to the hill at the center of the park. They conferred among themselves while the sun set, the sky dimming. And then they began an orchestrated, choreographed act. Flares, flames, geysers and explosions all featured, and all of it shot out of the hands of the performers.

  Magic.

  I knew there was magic. Our candles never burned down, all the weather was planned days in advance, Father mentioned it as a viable farming technique, and my own status screen declared me to be a sorceress.

  I sat down on the lawn beside my brother, and stared at the fire workings. I wrapped an arm over his shoulders and pulled him close to me, I was giddy. I was excited. I was beside myself. I looked over, and Nathan was just as enraptured as I was. He glanced over at me, and we shared a broad laugh and smile, then stared back as the leader of this troupe started firing skyrockets in several different colors, bursting into roaring balls and nets of flame, high in the air. Sparkling chandeliers, lacy spiderwebs, and spinning spirals all formed in the sky, while the others ripped out great rippling sheets of colored flame, and shaped fanciful monsters out of heated light.

  The duke squatted down next to us. "You enjoying the show?" he asked.

  "Dad!" I squealed despite myself. "Magic!" I pointed, too overwhelmed to play it cool. I could see so much. The ether, the essence, I was watching it all. This was going to be my path. I watched a big buildup, the way that the power was stored, and built, and turned in on itself, and then the lead fire worker closed the loop and traded his essence for the fire, and he transformed himself. A leaping phoenix of molten gold lifted up and flew, streaming embers from its wings. He had turned himself into fire.

  My father had grabbed us both up and was crushing us with a hug. "She spoke!" he gasped, tears in his voice.

  It was not the most impressive. Most kids are using a few simple words by nine months. Even Nathan was able to Dada and Mama from time to time, if he was concentrating. But I had been very silent up until now, when anyone but my brother was around. I think everyone had high hopes because I was so far ahead in everything else, and then when I didn't speak they got disappointed. Well, joke's on them, I was just waiting until I was past the embarrassing parts so I could speak clearly when I was speaking for others.

  The Duke was always proud of how fast I developed and how fast I learned. The Duchess was always proud that I had a hand out reaching for my brother. Yes, I was faster than him. But I refused to leave him behind.

  But it was coming up on our first birthday. And while most of the planning was going on behind closed doors, Madame Cushnere did me a solid and sat down to discuss with me.

  "All right, Natalie, nobody really sits down with a one-year-old and asks her what kind of birthday party she wants," the governess said. She held us both in her lap, but spoke directly towards me. Nathan watched her with a very serious expression, very grown-up. "Now, the main function of nobility is to serve their people, but the second function is to form connections, and ties between each other. So social events are important, and valuable opportunities for people who normally would never have occasion to talk earnestly."

  The word 'networking' does not appear in the lexicon of Hearstwhile. Someday I'll introduce it.

  "Like parties," I prompted.

  "Very much so," she said. "And birthday parties for children are most special because it does not just tie across borders and families, but also generations. It gives the Count of Bricklie the chance to see who is going to be his neighbor in thirty years. It gives the Baron of Wallingwater the chance to see her daughter playing peaceably with her peers. Later in life these will be faces you recognize, names you have history with. The child that shares a doll this year will be a friend you share secrets with in ten years, and share strategy with in twenty."

  "I understand," I said. I reached out and Nathan caught my hand, holding it. I swung back and forth, and he giggled.

  Our governess bounced Nathan on her knee to make him laugh even harder. "So, this will be your chance. Watch the room. See who is already a spoiled brat. See who has been taught to respect their peers. Watch for good hearts and giving hands, Natalie. Some things children grow out of. Some things they just keep growing into. There are people who easily overcome the person they were in childhood, and people who set their hearts early and never change from that course. I think you may be smart enough to know."

  "I'll try," I promised her.

  The party came in two phases. The first was a big mixed event where children and parents all stood together. Guests arrived in carriages, and were escorted to the dining room to have punch and cake. They mingled, but not too much, or the tykes would get restless. The invitation list for this was culled down, not for the nearest allies to the Harigold house or the most powerful blocs to cultivate, but the families who had children nearly the right age, nothing over five years old, or under nine months.

  I found out that we'd gotten invitations to attend other birthday parties, but our parents declined because Nathan and I were too young. Good thinking, really.

  Then we got dressed (the maids and governess dressed us while Their Graces went to be attended to by handmaids and valets), and then reconvened at the top of the grand staircase. Mother adjusted my dress, and we made our way down the stairs. Father carried me, Mother carried my twin. There was polite applause as we descended the stairs, all four of us dressed in striking red-and-white outfits. As soon as we reached the bottom, Nathan and I reached for each other, bridging between our parents. A few sentimental 'aaaw!'s came from about the room.

  The ducal herald came up to make the announcements of our names and titles, followed up by a summary of the occasion "momentous anniversary of the arrival of two heirs together", and we posed prettily. Father loves to talk to people, and hates to talk to crowds, so his herald does all his speeches for him.

  And once those pro-forma maneuvers are accomplished, my twin and I are handed off to Madame Cushnere and the children around the room are gathered and brought round to the parlor, where a smaller table bears a larger cake, and more colorful decorations abound. Almost immediately, the children around us relax, putting away their good-manners masks and letting themselves be children again. A couple of the girls literally did let their hair down, and a four-year-old gusted a big breath and let out the stomach he'd been holding in.

  One of the five-year-olds was already gathering attention, a few other children already mustering around her, trading greetings or nods. She had turquoise hair and an easy, comfortable way about her.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  I smiled, and Madame Cushnere set me on the ground. I was steady enough to help Nathan stand with me if he held my hand. "Hello. My name is Natalie Harigold, this is my brother Nathan. Do you like to draw?"

  She turned to me, almost startled. "Oh! I am sorry! I was hi. I thought you were baby. Like with Papholy Gansward," she said and nodded towards a child being carefully loaded into a high chair and prepared with a bib to cover his drool-covered chest.

  "I understand," I said. "And when you catch me on a bad day, it's quite a resemblance. I did not catch your name?"

  "Oh! My apologies," she said, and dipped a curtsy. "I'm Taeril Danacor, daughter of the Baron of Hingstal." She was five years old and precocious. And she was well-drilled in her etiquette.

  I tugged at my skirt with one hand. "I've not practiced curtsies," I confessed. "And I fear I would sacrifice all dignity if I tried. So, neither of us has been to one of these events before, and we don't really know anyone."

  "You talk funny."

  "I sure do," I said. The maids and guards in the room all smirked a little, among the staff it was an open secret that the daughter had a vocabulary far past her age.

  "You sound grown up," Taeril said suspiciously.

  I nodded. "I've got magic and it made me like this. Nathan likes to draw," I said, tugging my brother's hand. For once, he was looking bashful, staring around the room at the other kids. This was the moment I realized how much he and I are not socialized. No playmates our own age except each other. Nathan might not know what to do with someone who was neither an adult nor his twin sister.

  Taeril waved at one of the other children. "Geland! Did you bring colors? Nathan likes to draw."

  Geland was a year younger, and a bit mush-mouthed, but he was a full head taller than me and very sturdily built. I'd guess he came from a family of warriors. Or perhaps roadblocks. The quick-stepping nurse that came with him did in fact have a valise with pages of paper and charcoal pencils for the boys. Nathan started working on a deer, and Geland started drawing his family to show us how many brothers he had. When the boys were duly distracted, Taeril looked back at me, slyly, a little impish mischief in her smile. "Are you really magic?"

  "Hm," I said. "Have you seen this spell before?" and I reached for her face, just slow enough that it wouldn't frighten her, and then with a twist of my wrist I tucked my thumb through my fingers. And with my right hand, I reached past her to the dinner table and palmed a spoon. "I've got your nose!" I revealed my left hand.

  "Nuh-uh!" she said proudly, touching her face. "I seen this! Daddy does that trick!"

  "Oh," I said, disappointed. "Well, if I don't have your nose, then whose nose did I just turn into a spoon?" and I brought my hands together for a reveal. Taeril fell back with a gasp and a squeal, her eyes all lit up. Madame Cushnere brought her hand up to her face to cover her laugh. My sleight of hand was clumsy, and obvious, but it was the perfect trick for a child her age. And obviously way past what a one-year-old should do.

  My intention was that the news would propagate, slowly, that I was very intelligent. Word of mouth from household staff, and from these children to their parents, who may put limited stock in what the children have to say about me. But just enough to get the message circulating, so that down the road people would not be surprised too much by me. It would be easier for me to be the bookish and brilliant teenager when I had established my credentials as a bookish and brilliant pre-schooler. Especially through the aristocrats around my own age.

  Hearstwhile had the tradition of birthday cakes, but not the candles, or singing, or anything like that. Instead, the maids began cutting modest-sized slices onto saucers for the children, with small forks for some and small spoons for those that shouldn't be trusted with forks. Geland and Nathan abandoned their art project to come get treats, and I walked over to see their work. Geland had given stick figures for all his family and one that ran off at the end that may have been a dog, before he got distracted coloring in a door in the background with a heavy hand. Nathan's deer had its antlers upside down, but he had drawn two small figures with red hair petting its legs. Us.

  I sat down next to Nathan, and gave him a hug. He looked at me with a question in his eyes. "Kabebimymymy?" he blurted.

  I pointed at the page. "You drew me. Thank you."

  He smiled and hugged me back. The cake in his lap smushed on my dress.

  [ You have earned 1 experience point. You have -9 experience points. ]