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Caitlyn’s fifteenth birthday party was a bore. The hall was filled with jazz music and champagne glasses, and the mutterings of stifling political conversations grew tiring. The banquet hall was filled with jazz music, champagne glasses, and the ambience of old wealth. The estate’s hall was grand, but Caitlyn was losing interest in the stiff talks about politics, the fake pleasantries; this was supposed to be their birthday. It certainly didnt feel like one. Caitlyn stood by one of the tall windows, her short, unruly hair slightly tamed, tie loosened and askew, with one hand behind their back; they were mimicking their father’s class and Grayson's confidence. quietly observing the adults, acting like security at her own birthday party.
Caitlyn’s father engaging in conversation with several guests, likely his colleagues. He always had captivating stories to share, so Caitlyn walked by the group to hear the conversation. They caught a brief moment of the conversation in which the topic shifted to praising his child’s marksmanship with a rifle. “Under Officer Grayson’s tutelage, Caitlyn will become a crack shot in no time at all.”
On the other side of the ballroom was Officer Grayson who was trying her best to keep her composer at the event, smiling at some guests and engaging in small talk. However, Caitlyn noticed that Grayson’s gaze was ,fixed on their mother. Caitlyn rolled their eyes at how silly the pair of them looked while exchanging glances. Get a room.
Caitlyn's mother maintained her composure and professionalism, but it was clear her mind was elsewhere.
Caitlyn couldn't help but huff in annoyance at how ‘typical of them.’ Their mother was talking to one of the notable families; Caitlyn was already disinterested in their attempt at fake pleasantries, the idea of speaking in vagueness and secrecy just to simply gain an advantage in Piltover.
And then Caitlyn saw her, a girl... no, a princess.
A young girl, about fifteen, stood by the dessert table, her fingers twisting the edge of her dress. The pretty girl's hair was styled short, in soft curls of flaxen hair, held in place with a satin purple ribbon. Her eyes scanned the room, searching for the same escape as Caitlyn. When their eyes met, she offered a timid smile.
Caitlyn felt a flutter in their chest. Before the anxious overthinking could take over, they walked over with the confidence of a prince from their favourite tales. However, their confidence faltered when they stumbled on their final step.
Clearing their throat before speaking, “G-good evening,” Caitlyn said, bowing far too dramatically. “I don't believe we've met, milady.”
The girl had the sweetest giggle that they had ever heard. Caitlyn makes a mental note to make the girl laugh and, out of habit, runs their hands through their own hair.
She was prettier up close, Caitlyn noted, doll-like.
“I'm Orianna Reveck,” the girl introduced herself. “You're... one of the councillors' children, right?”
“Kiramman,” they declared proudly, “Caitlyn Kiramman,” straightening up and trying hard not to trip over themself. “I’m Councillor Cassandra’s progeny, ankle-biter or nuisance to some, but I am truly” gently taking the ashen girl's hand softly, “at your service.”
Before losing their nerve, Caitlyn leaned down and kissed the back of Orianna’s hand. They had seen noblemen do that in theatre shows and books they had read. It was slightly awkward, and their nose bumped a delicate knuckle, but still—it was a success.
Orianna’s cheeks flushed bright red, and her eyes sparkled. “You're quite charming,” she remarked. “And... somewhat princely.”
Caitlyn’s heart did a flip.
“Thank you, Miss Reveck,” Caitlyn stated, straightening their posture, “Rather kind of you to say.”
Orianna tilted her head, her cheeks flushing. “Do you kiss every girl's hands, or am I lucky?
No, no—I reserve such courtesies for those who have taken my breath away,” Caitlyn declared, completely serious. “May I ask, Miss Reveck?”
“Shall we escape the ballroom for a tour of the estate? It’s grown quite crowded… and I would much prefer a setting where I can enjoy your company somewhere, quieter.”
Orianna nodded, cheeks flushing, and linked her arm with Caitlyn's “I would be delighted,” Orianna said, a soft giggle escaping her. The warmth of Orianna’s hand where it rested against their arm, the faint brush of silk against their sleeve,
“Although…aren’t you meant to be the birthday prince? Shouldn’t you be keeping up appearances?” Orianna couldn’t help but blush as she took the taller one's arm.
Caitlyn glanced around for their mother. As was expected, their mother was too busy, enamoured with the officer by her side; Caitlyn couldn’t help but sigh to themself.
“No one is going to notice, Miss Reveck.” They gently cupped the shorter girl's hand, which was relaxed on their arm.
The night air felt more humid than it had any right to be. They walked behind her at a slower pace, as Orianna skipped and giggling. The gardens stretched wide, just forward before them were perfectly trimmed hedges, pale gravel paths, and bright lanterns being attacked by moths. Orianna gasped at how luscious the Kiramman garden was. Caitlyn agreed, but their attention was drawn elsewhere; it was being pulled by the girl before them.
Orianna’s presence felt like a dream; it was refreshing, as if she stepped out of a fantasy novel.
“…and it just kept going,” Orianna spoke with such awe, her hands lifting slightly as if she could shape the memory in the air. “I thought that was the end of it, but—oh, the library just kept going, and going.”
Caitlyn let out a soft huff of amusement, their eyes meeting each other for a brief moment before quickly darting her eyes straight ahead. Caitlyn was animated and giggly, how her sage-green eyes lit up when she spoke; her voice didn't carry, it was quite fragile, almost a shy whisper.
“I imagine you could get quite lost in there,” Caitlyn replied, their tone lighter than usual, touched with something almost fond.
Orianna couldn’t help but laugh. “I bet that isn’t even the full library, huh?”
“You caught me," Caitlyn replied with their hands up, raised in defeat at keeping the other wings of the library a secret, They couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll show you next time, when you visit”
For a moment, neither of them spoke, and the silence that followed was not awkward at all; it was a comfortable silence, alongside the distant chirping of the night birds and the occasional noise from the cicadas.
“My father would have loved it,” she said. “Dr Reveck—he’s always surrounded by books, you see. Though… not quite so many as yours.”
“I’m afraid he has been deep in his research— usually, we do not have time for such pleasures,” Orianna continued, her gaze drifting briefly toward the lantern-lit path ahead. “Which is why… tonight has been rather special.”
Caitlyn could see the hesitation before the girl continued,
“I-I don’t often get to attend things like this, as I get quite sick often.” Caitlyn watched the girl's expressions; they could see the nervousness in the girl's fidgeting with the hem of her dress as she walked backwards, facing Caitlyn.
Orianna turned her head slightly then, offering a small, almost apologetic smile. “Most of the other kids…” She trailed off, searching for the right words, then gave a soft shake of her head. “They tend to treat me as though I might break.”
“You don’t seem particularly fragile to me, Miss Reveck,” Caitlyn said, finding their voice at last.
Orianna blinked. The words caught her completely off guard, her mouth slightly open in a surprised gasp. “Thank you, Caitlyn”
Caitlyn wasn’t entirely sure what Orianna was thanking them for.