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Fireworks from the few that managed to get their hands onto them shot into the Regalian sky as midnight bells tolled the New Year. 208 AC had arrived onto Aloria, at least onto this piece of it finally as others waited for the time to arrive for themselves, and further others had already crawled into bed from their earlier celebrations.
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A certain Harhold leaned onto the sill of her bedroom window, having long sense pulled said window open so that she could watch the distant celebration. Like many, she did not plan to actually celebrate until the following weekend when unstopping work was put at a short pause for weekend rest- even a brand new year was no reason for work to end. Of course, that wouldn't stop her from enjoying the cheer of others that did not have work in the morning, apparently.
She looked back onto the year she had been through- 307 AC, a time that had been unlike any other due to its speed in event and actually… happenings in her life, rather than her just being another child of Hengest Harhold. The girl had been shoved into a betrothal, and left it just as quickly. She had seen families rise and fall, including her own in titleage when her father had stopped being a Duke and had instead become a Count.
The young girl had become a young woman as well, officially, as she reached the age of eighteen. Although she was likely considered an adult already at sixteen, there was a certain excitement that came with passing that and nearing closer to her twenties. She had befriended many of the peerage, finding friendship in those that would offer her the time for it. While she did get close with every member of the nobility, it was enough of them to make her feel truly… wanted within a circle. More than she had before in her life. And she was proud to be close to those that offered her the time and space to think of herself near to their heart.
Haeddi had seen her closest friends gain titles, as well as see those that she rather despised get the same. But thinking of titles, she had done such as well, in a manner. The Little Harhold- Young Madame- had earned her spot in two scenes. She was a director, and she was the curator of the Imperial Court, wasn't that something to be proud of?
Yes. Obviously it was.
She offered a grin to the fireworks that shot across the sky, leaning further out her window to watch the color explode into the darkened clouds, the moon glimmering behind them like a beacon. Where would this beacon lead her into the new year?
Only time, days and weeks and months, could tell.
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