NationStates Jolt Archive

To: His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty, Andreus I Capet, By the Grace of God, Emperor of Pantocratoria, Autocrator of the Romans, Caesar Augustus, King of France and Navarre, Equal of the Apostles, God's Vicegerent on Earth, the Very Christian, the Most Pious, Sebastocrator, King of Kings Ruling over those who Rule
From:Her Imperial Majesty, Agwene ni Gwydion, High Queen of the Resurgent Dream, Duchess of Johsam, Countess of Ralaph, Lady Golding

In the interest of peace and friendship between nations, in recognition of the mutual interest of all peoples in relations between the powers of the earth, and in deep appreciation of the many achievments of the Holy and Most August Empire of Pantocratoria, we would wish to open formal relations between our the court of Tarana and the court of Christ Pantocrator.

To: Dr. Thibault Drapeur, Lord Chancellor
From: Juliet ni Gwydion, Lady Montrose

In appreciation of your new and more open minded policies and in keeping with the general foreign policy of the Empire of the Resurgent Dream, we would be interested in a formal exchange of ambassadors.

To:His Highness the Most Pius Prince Andreus Capet, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, Porphyrogenitus

From: Her Majesty, Eleanor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, Duchess of Dinoktos, Countess of Angal, Lady Sylvester

Recognizing the city of New Constantinople as a place likely to appeal to visitors and seekers of entertainment from Wintermore, our court would seek to establish relations with that of New Constantinople.

To: His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty, Andreus I Capet, By the Grace of God, Emperor of Pantocratoria, Autocrator of the Romans, Caesar Augustus, King of France and Navarre, Equal of the Apostles, God's Vicegerent on Earth, the Very Christian, the Most Pious, Sebastocrator, King of Kings Ruling over those who Rule
From:Her Imperial Majesty, Agwene ni Gwydion, High Queen of the Resurgent Dream, Duchess of Johsam, Countess of Ralaph, Lady Golding

In the interest of peace and friendship between nations, in recognition of the mutual interest of all peoples in relations between the powers of the earth, and in deep appreciation of the many achievments of the Holy and Most August Empire of Pantocratoria, we would wish to open formal relations between our the court of Tarana and the court of Christ Pantocrator.

To: Her Imperial Majesty High Queen Agwene ni Gwydion

Your Majesty,

We are well disposed to an exchange of ambassadors. We propose to dispatch an ambassador to be selected by our Imperial Chancellor to Your Majesty's court of Tarana, and to receive your ambassador to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator as soon as convenient. We offer the Church of the Immolated One to Your Majesty as your embassy in New Rome. It will be restored appropriately.

With warmest regards,
ANDREUS
Emperor of Pantocratoria, Autocrator of the Romans, Caesar Augustus, King of France and Navarre, Equal of the Apostles et al.

To: Dr. Thibault Drapeur, Lord Chancellor
From: Juliet ni Gwydion, Lady Montrose

In appreciation of your new and more open minded policies and in keeping with the general foreign policy of the Empire of the Resurgent Dream, we would be interested in a formal exchange of ambassadors.

To: Lady Montrose,

My Lady,

I thank you for your kind words about the policies of my Government. I had the pleasure to speak to Her Majesty the High Queen personally via telephone after the election, and am pleased to receive your letter as still more evidence of the potential which your government sees in diplomatic ties with Pantocratoria. I have always preached the policy of diplomatic engagement as the best for the ensuring of international security and world peace, and I believe we share this belief in common.

His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty the Emperor informs me that Her Majesty has formally requested the exchange of ambassadors. His Majesty has asked me to recommend a prominent Pantocratorian to be sent to the court of Tarana. I have the pleasure of commending Monsieur René Faucon.

Monsieur Faucon is a prominent member of the trade union movement, being the Imperial President of the Pantocratorian Dock Workers Union, and has been of great assistance to me and indeed, to the entire Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance. I believe that Monsieur Faucon will embody perfectly the attitudes and approaches of the new Imperial Government, and would be a far more appropriate ambassador to the Resurgent Dream than a churchman or Knight of the Order of the Pantocrator. However, if you have any reservations about the appointment of Monsieur Faucon, please let me know, and I will arrange another ambassador.

Kind regards,

Thibault Drapeur
The Right Honourable the Imperial Chancellor

To:His Highness the Most Pius Prince Andreus Capet, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, Porphyrogenitus

From: Her Majesty, Eleanor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, Duchess of Dinoktos, Countess of Angal, Lady Sylvester

Recognizing the city of New Constantinople as a place likely to appeal to visitors and seekers of entertainment from Wintermore, our court would seek to establish relations with that of New Constantinople.

To: Her Majesty Queen Eleanor ni Ailil of Wintermore

Your Majesty, while I would welcome a diplomatic envoy from Wintermore, I feel it would be inappropriate for me to accept one directly. To do so would be a breach of His Majesty the Emperor's perogative on my part. I would welcome a diplomatic envoy from Wintermore sent through an official embassy to His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty.

I apologise for declining your invitation, and wish to assure Your Majesty that I mean no slight, but as I mean no slight to any man or woman, I cannot slight the Emperor by accepting an envoy from a country with which His Majesty has yet no formal ties. I hope Your Majesty understands.

Sincerest regards and apologies,

Andreus Princeps
The Most Pious and Purple-born Prince, Despot of New Constantinople, and Dauphin of Viennois

To: His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty, Andreus I Capet, By the Grace of God, Emperor of Pantocratoria, Autocrator of the Romans, Caesar Augustus, King of France and Navarre, Equal of the Apostles, God's Vicegerent on Earth, the Very Christian, the Most Pious, Sebastocrator, King of Kings Ruling over those who Rule
From: Judge Epophit ap Dougal, Lord Williamston

Your Imperial Majesty,
Her Majesty, High Queen Agwene ni Gwydion, apologizes that military difficulties prevent her writing you directly. We do, of course, gratefully accept your offer. In fact, our Prime Minister, Lady Juliet ni Gwydion, had already made a similar offer to your Imperial Chancellor in his capacity as Prime Minister of Your Imperial Majesty's Parliament. However, Her Majesty's initial intent in writing Your Imperial Majesty was to propose to send a Herald of the Court in addition to an Ambassador of the State.

To:His Highness the Most Pius Prince Andreus Capet, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, Porphyrogenitus
From: Judge Uni ap Dougal, Lord Ferad

Your Imperial Highness,
Her Majesty regrets that military affairs prevent her from writing in person. It seems that there was a miscommunication in our last message. The central government of the Resurgent Dream has already established relations with Your Imperial Father's Court of Christ Pantocrator. As a local government, we wished only to initiate contact with comparable governmental units in Pantocratoria. Our government has asked the central government to request a program of this sort from your central government. Our apologies for the confusion. If possible, Her Majesty would also wish to visit New Constantinople as soon as she returns from the front.

To: Dr. Thibault Drapeur, Lord Chancellor
From: Judge Hof ap Dougal, Lord Casavna

Your Honor,
The Prime Minister has asked me to write you to clarify Imperial Law regarding embassies. We do recognize extraterritoriality and diplomatic immunity excepting cases of espionage. An initial land grant is made to all foreign embassies. The government represented by such an embassy is free to expand upon the original building and lands as they see fit. However, it is required, for such additions to be recognized as having the status of embassy grounds, that such lands be formally requested and granted as territory of the petitioning goverment by Royal Order. Please direct any questions to the Ministry of State. I have also been asked to request, on behalf of some of our local kingdoms, if regional and local governments within the Resurgent Dream might be allowed to establish consulates with equivalent levels of government in Pantocratoria.

To: His Most Catholic and Imperial Majesty, Andreus I Capet, By the Grace of God, Emperor of Pantocratoria, Autocrator of the Romans, Caesar Augustus, King of France and Navarre, Equal of the Apostles, God's Vicegerent on Earth, the Very Christian, the Most Pious, Sebastocrator, King of Kings Ruling over those who Rule
From: Judge Epophit ap Dougal, Lord Williamston

Your Imperial Majesty,
Her Majesty, High Queen Agwene ni Gwydion, apologizes that military difficulties prevent her writing you directly. We do, of course, gratefully accept your offer. In fact, our Prime Minister, Lady Juliet ni Gwydion, had already made a similar offer to your Imperial Chancellor in his capacity as Prime Minister of Your Imperial Majesty's Parliament. However, Her Majesty's initial intent in writing Your Imperial Majesty was to propose to send a Herald of the Court in addition to an Ambassador of the State.

To: Judge Epophit ap Dougal, Lord Williamston

My Lord,

Her Majesty's ambassador to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator may bring with him or her such personnel as your government deems appropriate, including such a person.

We look forward to receiving Her Majesty's ambassador and delegation.

Regards,

ANDREUS
By the Grace of God, Emperor of Pantocratoria, Autocrator of the Romans, Caesar Augustus, King of France and Navarre, Equal of the Apostles et al.

To:His Highness the Most Pius Prince Andreus Capet, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, Porphyrogenitus
From: Judge Uni ap Dougal, Lord Ferad

Your Imperial Highness,
Her Majesty regrets that military affairs prevent her from writing in person. It seems that there was a miscommunication in our last message. The central government of the Resurgent Dream has already established relations with Your Imperial Father's Court of Christ Pantocrator. As a local government, we wished only to initiate contact with comparable governmental units in Pantocratoria. Our government has asked the central government to request a program of this sort from your central government. Our apologies for the confusion. If possible, Her Majesty would also wish to visit New Constantinople as soon as she returns from the front.

To: Judge Uni ap Dougal, Lord Ferad

My Lord,

Naturally once an embassy from the Resurgent Dream to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator is established, I shall happily receive representatives from your embassy. Her Majesty would be most welcome to visit New Constantinople during a state visit arranged through your embassy in New Rome.

Sincerely,
Andreus Princeps
The Most Pious and Purple-born Prince, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois

To: Dr. Thibault Drapeur, Lord Chancellor
From: Judge Hof ap Dougal, Lord Casavna

Your Honor,
The Prime Minister has asked me to write you to clarify Imperial Law regarding embassies. We do recognize extraterritoriality and diplomatic immunity excepting cases of espionage. An initial land grant is made to all foreign embassies. The government represented by such an embassy is free to expand upon the original building and lands as they see fit. However, it is required, for such additions to be recognized as having the status of embassy grounds, that such lands be formally requested and granted as territory of the petitioning goverment by Royal Order. Please direct any questions to the Ministry of State. I have also been asked to request, on behalf of some of our local kingdoms, if regional and local governments within the Resurgent Dream might be allowed to establish consulates with equivalent levels of government in Pantocratoria.

To: Judge Hof ap Dougal, Lord Casavna

My Lord,

I thank you for the clarification; our embassy staff will be briefed on all appropriate protocols prior to being dispatched to the Resurgent Dream. To reciprocate; in Pantocratoria we recognise extraterritoriality and grant diplomatic immunity (without exception) to foreign embassies. The foreign government is granted a building in or around New Rome, in your case, the Church of the Immolated One and its associated buildings, and is allowed to make such modifications to the building as they see fit (although they are strongly encouraged to keep such modifications consistent with the architectural style of the surrounding area). Further grants of land may be made through the ambassador petitioning His Majesty in person - additional grants are unlikely to be contiguous but enjoy all the same protections as the initial embassy grant.

Your local kingdoms are quite welcome to establish consulates throughout the Imperial demense, and in the Exarchate of New Jerusalem. In order to establish a consulate in the Despotate of New Constantinople, it will be necessary for your embassy to seek the permission of His Imperial Highness the Most Pious Prince Andreus, the Despot of New Constantinople.

Warmest regards,

Thibault Drapeur

Eleanor relaxed quietly in her private jet, heading towards New Rome faster than she'd known it possible to go a mere few months ago. Sipping her wine, the queen turned her gaze out the window, watching the ocean fly by beneath her. She was somewhat eager to get to New Constantinople but bypassing New Rome entirely would hardly have been proper so...here she was. Honestly, she was not looking forward to time spent at the, by all accounts, rather Summerish court of His Imperial Majesty. The one thing about New Rome, however, that did hold her interest was the former Chancellor. She had found herself fascinated by that particular racial and ideological enemy since she first heard the name and had to admit that meeting her in person seemed quite an...interesting...proposition.

At New Rome's international airport, a troop of soldiers in dress uniforms stood ready to salute the visiting Queen as her aircraft taxied to the end of the red carpet. At the end of the carpet in front of a black limousine (on the front of which was the flag of the Resurgent Dream on one side and the flag of Wintermore on the other) stood Dr Thibault Drapeur, a well-dressed intellectual looking man in his late middle-ages, and Prince Basil, a slightly taller, slightly younger man wearing a purple sash over his suit.

As the private jet came to a stop and the door opened, the troops fired a salute. Drapeur and Basil waited at the end of the carpet to meet the passenger.

Eleanor stepped from the plane, alone. She strode down the red carpet with a sublime grace, natural and wholly untaught. Her raven hair blew elegantly as though in a fresh, mountain wind, although there was no wind to speak of. Even as she walked in the open, her form seemed cloaked in enticing, lovely, and majestic shadow, playing games with the light upon the black gossamer of her dress and her alabaster skin. Her hands remained folded delicately in front of her as her eyes moved to survey those awaiting her, coldly at first.

After a long moment, she smiled, a small, subtle smile that seemed to catch the eye by its very eccenticity. Eleanor inclined her head to both human leaders who waited for her at the end of the carpet. "It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness, Prime Minister. I have been looking forward to this trip greatly."

The two men politely bowed to the Queen, Basil somewhat more naturally than the Chancellor.

"Thankyou, Your Majesty." said Drapeur.

"Welcome to Pantocratoria, Your Majesty." added Prince Basil.

"I trust Your Majesty's flight was pleasant?" Drapeur asked.

"His Majesty the Emperor asked that we escort you to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, Majesty. He is most eager to meet you." said Basil, indicating the car.

Eleanor studied them for but a fraction of a second, quite impressed with their self-control, though she was hardly going to let them know that. Her face showed not the slightest change from her politely pleasant demeanor. "My flight was quite pleasant...if still a rather unfamiliar process. I suppose I shall grow used to it eventually."

With another breathtaking smile, she started towards the car. "That is quite considerate of His Imperial Majesty. I have been greatly looking forward to meeting him as well."

The Chancellor and Leader of the Opposition got into the car after the Queen. The car sped out of New Rome's international airport and through the surrounding districts, and then drove at a more stately pace through the streets of the Old Quarter of New Rome towards the sprawling Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator palace complex. Curious crowds line many of the roads of the Old Quarter, trying to catch a glimpse of the strange creature they had heard about. The rumour had spread that they were being visited by an elven queen with the power to read men's minds. The thought that there were even more exotic forms of non-humans than elves didn't even enter their minds. The cars of the motorcade entered the courtyard and come to a stop in front of the inner courtyard of the palace complex. A red carpet was already laid out to the car's door, leading all the way up the long courtyard and into the palace.

"We've arrived, Your Majesty." said Drapeur as palace heralds opened the car's doors and helped the Queen out.

A troop of the Varangian Guard, tall Scandinavian men dressed in splendid uniforms somewhat reminiscent of Ancient Rome, snap to attention, offering their salute as the Queen and her escorts proceed up the vast courtyard along the red carpet towards the entrance of the palace proper. A bronze statue of St Constantine the Great dominates the courtyard, and the cold carved eyes of the emperor stare down at the Queen's delegation as Basil leads the other two into the palace's cavernous "waiting room".

This chamber has a gently-domed ceiling, decorated with a Byzantine-style icon of Christ as Pantocrator, looking down on the delegation with haunting eyes. The stylistic clashes for which the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator is so well known start immediately beneath the dome, the oldest part of the palace (since this waiting room over which the icon watches was the original great hall), as huge marble pillars stand in the corners of the room (the pillars serve no structural purpose, being added in the 17th century). On the wall to the delegation's left is a huge painting labelled "Le Martyre de Constantine XI", depicting the final moments of the battle between the defenders of Constantinople and the Ottoman Turks. Into each of the tiles on the floor are carved the initials "L & T", interwoven to form one letter with a T's top and an L's bottom, commemorating the 1810 marriage of Louis XVII, titular King of France, and the Empress Theodora II Comnenus.

At the end of the room are two massive bronze doors, with three Varangians standing in front of each door. Flanking the doorway are two marble statues, each dressed in imperial gowns of ancient Rome. One is the Roman Emperor Augustus, and the other is the Pantocratorian Emperor Constantine XVIII Comnenus (in the middle of whose reign in the early 17th century the statues were installed, along with the pillars). The doors at the other side of the chamber swing open, revealing a glimpse of the great hall behind them. As the doors open, trumpets blare to announce the Queen's arrival.

The great hall dwarves the entrance chamber, with huge marble pillars stretching from the floor all the way to the ornately decorated ceiling, spanning more than three stories in height (evidenced by the two levels of balconies which run along both sides of the hall). Underneath the balconies on each side stand dozens of members of the Imperial court. In the centre of the chamber is an imposing throne structure on a platform of its own, and seated on that throne wearing full imperial regalia is the Emperor, a tall man with gray hair and a well-kept beard. A man in golden armour stands on the platform at the foot of the throne; the Imperial Champion, Sir Constantine the Hardy. Standing on the platform behind Sir Constantine are two pretty teenage girls dressed in identical gowns, both wearing purple sashes. Across the otherside of the platform stands a young man around his early twenties, wearing a tuxedo with a purple sash.

"His Excellency the Imperial Chancellor, Doctor Thibault Drapeur." announces the herald. The order of precedence demanded that the most important person to enter the hall be admitted last, to a great deal more fanfare than the single blare of the trumpets Drapeur got. Drapeur enters, ignoring the barely disguised loathing in the eyes of most of the courtiers, and bows politely to the Emperor.

"His Imperial Highness Prince Basil." the herald announces to good deal more fanfare. Prince Basil enters, bows to his brother, and then stands by Prince Constantine.

"Where's Irene?" he whispered. Constantine shrugged.

"Her Majesty Queen Eleanor ni Ailil, Queen of Wintermore, Duchess of Dinoktos, Countess of Angal, Lady Sylvester." the herald announces. The trumpets play a full royal fanfare only exceeded by that of emperors. As Eleanor enters the hall, courtiers bow and curtsey as she passes them on her way to the throne.

"Your Majesty," says the Emperor in his usual rigidly formal and severe tone. He went on to address Eleanor as a fellow monarch. "Welcome to Pantocratoria, sister. May I present my sister, Her..."

Sir Constantine leaned in to the Emperor's ear.

"Her Highness has declined to be present, Monsieur." he whispered.

"Pardon me," the Emperor says. "My second son, Prince Constantine."

The young man in his twenties bows politely to the Queen.

"My second daughter, Princess Theodora." says the Emperor. Theodora, thrilled that she hadn't been mentioned last for a change, curtseys with a natural grace and confidence which so often eluded her.

"My youngest, Princess Zoë." says the Emperor. The thirteen year-old curtseys expertly to the Queen.

"I take it you've met my brother, Prince Basil, and the Chancellor." the Emperor continues.

As Eleanor followed her escorts, she managed to maintain the same air of polite but casual politeness she had assumed at the landing. Her expression seemed perfectly content, relaxed, and pleasant. Inside, however, she was...overwhelmed was too strong a word, but not by much. The size, the grandeur, the ceremony of the Pantocratorian Court was truly astounding. The sidhe nobility, though certainly full of pompous attention to certain courtly details, were, for all that, much more informal, much cozier, and much less grandiose than these humans and this was Eleanor's very first taste of such Byzantine splendor. She told herself that this was all show, was all a way for human nobles to compensate for having no real, innate nobility in the same sense as she understood it. Still, if it was a show, it was a very effective one. Eleanor could not deny that Andreus looked as regal, as splendid, and as noble on his throne as any high king or queen who ever sat in Tarana, if not moreso. For the very first time in her long life, she felt in herself that sense of awe which she always sought to inspire in "lesser" peoples. Whather that was to be cause for love or hatred, only time would tell.

Eleanor entered when announced and inclined her head deeply to the Emperor. As they were introduced, she gave a smaller inclination of her head to his children. After the introductions were done, she spoke. "It is my honor to be here, brother. Your Imperial family is quite resplendent, your court charming, and your palace grand. I must say I am quite glad that I decided to visit Pantocratoria."

The Emperor nods at the complement but doesn't smile. He almost never smiles.

"I'm pleased that you did. You are the first sidhe Queen to grace the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. The pleasure is entirely mine, sister." says the Emperor as warmly as he says anything. "I understand you'll be visiting my eldest, Prince Andreus, in New Constantinople, during your stay in Pantocratoria. If that's the case, then perhaps you'll have a chance to meet my eldest daughter, Princess Anna, and her husband, Prince Joseph of Excalbia, while you're there."

"And my eldest too." adds Prince Basil, referring to Princess Helen. The Emperor is silent for a moment, long enough for Basil to know he didn't appreciate the interjection.

"This evening there will be a reception and ball in Your Majesty's honour." continues the Emperor. "Until then I thought that I could show you about the palace and its grounds."

Eleanor nodded a little to Andreus's comments. "It would be my pleasure, brother. I am quite looking forward both to the reception and to my trip to New Constantinople. I have heard quite interesting things."

"Indeed." says the Emperor. Normally he might ask what she had heard, but this was a visiting queen, not some courtier whom the Emperor wanted to throw off her ease. "So do we all."

"Theodora," the Emperor calls to his daughter.

"Yes, Your Majesty." replies Theodora.

"Show Her Majesty to her rooms and see that she is made comfortable." he instructs. He turns back to Eleanor. "I'll join Your Majesty there in an hour, to take you on a proper tour. Is that to your liking, sister?"

Theodora steps forward and waits for the Queen to indicate that she is ready to leave.

Eleanor nodded. "That is quite satisfactory, Your Majesty." She inclines her head to Theodora, waiting to follow the girl. She smiled ever so faintly as she moved, going over the encounter in her head and analyzing every detail.

Theodora curtsied to the Emperor and led the Queen from the hall. As the pair departed the courtiers bowed and curtsied to the Queen politely; in this way the Queen caused a ripple in the sea of courtiers as she moved down the length of the long hall, before finally leaving. Varangians stationed on either side of the doors snapped to attention as the Queen and Theodora passed through them into the corridor beyond.

The long corridor was sumptuously and ostentatiously adorned with gold inlay, marble relief carvings, and paintings depicting allegorical scenes. It led to another corridor, and another, and then a drawing room, and then another corridor. Finally the two reached a set of double doors, where another set of Varangians clicked their heels as they came to attention.

"These are Your Majesty's apartments. I hope they will be to your liking." Theodora said softly. The Varangians opened the doors for the pair, revealing a comfortable-looking private lounge, and several more sets of doors.

"Does Your Majesty require anything else?" Theodora asked.

Eleanor followed silently, taking in the entire scene. Once they arrive at the doors to her apartments, she smiled gently at Theodora. "I trust they will be, Your Highness. I trust they will be. Have a good evening." At that, she entered, looking about her chambers with a careful eye.

Theodora curtsies politely to the Queen again and turns to leave.

Eleanor pauses. "Oh, Princess?"

"Yes, Your Majesty?" replies Theodora

"I could not help but notice your aunt's absence earlier this evening."

Thank God for small blessings! Theodora thought to herself, but didn't vocalise.

"Yes, I'm afraid I don't know why, Your Majesty." she replies.


"You truly don't, Princess?" Eleanor asked.

"Her Highness doesn't feel the need to explain her actions to most, let alone me, Your Majesty." Theodora replies.

Eleanor smirked ever so faintly. "I was looking forward to meeting her."

"Why?" Theodora blurts out. Her eyes go wide as she catches herself too late. So this is why the Emperor doesn't usually trust her to greet visiting guests.

"I mean, I beg your pardon," she stammers. "If Your Majesty would like to meet her, I could show you to her."

"That would be most kind, Princess." Eleanor smiled.

Theodora leads Eleanor back out into the corridors, through more corridors, before arriving after a ten minute walk at the apartments of Princess Irene.

"We're here to see Her Highness." Theodora says to the Varangians, who click their heels and open the doors, revealing a small, ornate and uncomfortable waiting room in front of another door. A secretary is preparing a pile of papers on a desk in the corner of the waiting room, and quickly rises.

"Your Highness," he says politely to Theodora. He ignores Eleanor.

Eleanor arches a brow ever so faintly at the secretary, saying nothing.

"We're here to see Her Highness. Please let us in." says Theodora.

"Her Highness isn't taking visitors at the moment, I'm afraid, Mademoiselle." replies the secretary.

"Is she seeing her confessor then?" Theodora asks, with false innocence.

"I'll... I'll ask Her Highness to see you." he replies, before moving over to the intercom.

Eleanor frowned faintly, still silent.

"Your Imperial Highness, Her Highness Princess Theodora and the visitor are here to see you." he says into the intercom.

There is no reply, but there is the sound of the doors to Irene's office opening.

"Her Highness will see you now." says the secretary weakly.

Eleanor remained where she is. "After you announce me properly."

"Announce her properly, and then get to writing your letter of resignation." comes a stern voice from within the office.

"Her... Her Majesty Queen Eleanor of Wintermore." stammers the secretary.

Eleanor nodded curtly to the secretary before stepping inside, taking a look about with a pleasant smile upon her face. Theodora follows Eleanor in with a little trepidation. She never enjoyed visiting her aunt.

Sitting behind an antique wooden desk was a severe looking middle-aged woman wearing black. She didn't return Eleanor's smile, but then, the Emperor was known to smile more than her anyway. She rose from her desk, setting aside the papers she had been reading.

"Your Majesty," she said gravely, curtseying. As she rose her eyes fell on Theodora. "Niece."

Eleanor inclined her head deeply to Irene. "Your Highness. I hope you are doing well?"

"Thank you for the kind sentiments." replied Irene without emotion. She gestured to the single seat in front of the desk. "Won't you come in and sit down?"

Theodora started to retreat discreetly from the room. Without looking at her, Irene interrupts her escape.

"Theodora, you were not excused." she snapped. Theodora froze. "Ask Her Majesty's leave."

"Is there anything else, Your Majesty?" Theodora asked, her confidence now shot to pieces by Irene.

Eleanor shook her head. "No, that will be all." She sat quietly, crossing her legs with innate elegance. "Thank you, Your Highness." Theodora curtsied to the Queen.

"Theodora, you weren't at Mass this morning." Irene interrupted her niece's retreat again.

"Oh... I... uh..." Theodora started, but was cut short.

"You may leave." Irene said. Theodora curtsied a final time, before leaving. Irene sat down across the desk from Eleanor.

"Welcome to Pantocratoria, Your Majesty." she said.

"Thank you, Your Highness. I was disappointed you were not at court earlier. I had been quite looking forward to meeting you." Eleanor said with the same winning smile, seemingly unphased by Irene's expressionlessness.

"I'm afraid that I was unable to attend." Irene replied. "But I am nevertheless flattered by your sentiments."

Although her expression betrays no emotion, her general demeanor is of a tired, defeated, embittered woman. Behind her eyes, the slightest spark of envy is visible.

Eleanor nodded faintly. "I understand why you didn't attend. There's no need for pretense in private."

Irene looks stunned for a moment.

"Pretense?" she asks. "Madame, I think you presume too much."

Eleanor blinked once, a little taken aback. "Very well." she said, her expression sombering.

Irene stared at Eleanor in silence for what seems like minutes, but could only be seconds.

"So, why were you looking forward to meeting me?" she asked. "Please indulge my curiosity."

Eleanor smiled again, recrossing her legs the other way. "Because, I have followed your career carefully and have found myself consistently impressed."

This time Irene blinked. "Oh?" she said. "You have?"

Eleanor nodded. "For rather obvious reasons, I have rarely approved of your positions but your tactics, your political manuevers...quite worth following. You're mentioned in quite a few Wintermore political science texts, you know?"

"No... I... No I had no idea." Irene said, not concealing her surprise. "I'm flattered. I didn't realize that I was.... ah."

She caught herself and became cold again.

"Now I understand." she said. "You're here to gloat. You've followed my career, and in a burst of triumphalist petty spite, you've come here now at its end to see what the beast looks like."

She leaned in. "Look."

Eleanor looked at her closely for a very long moment. "No, I haven't. I don't gloat over people I didn't defeat myself. You lost an election. I know. You've won some too. You've built a great party. You've organized national policy. And, in the end, you had to yield to mere sociological trends and not political opponents worthy to take you down. And it breaks my heart. Skill should have better rewards than that. Besides, I thought I was the beast."

"Do not think that you are alone in knowing something about my career." Irene said. "I know something of yours too. Not as much as perhaps you do of mine but enough to know that you have many ideas similar to my own."

"You're right of course. I did build a great party. I was a giant brought down by insects, who were set on me through the treachery of my own flesh and blood." she said bitterly. "Ask yourself whether you will still look so young when it happens to you, because it happens to all of us who play this game."

Eleanor paused a long moment. "You might be right. It is something that has crossed my mind more than once. Perhaps that's part of why I came today."

"Well," Irene replied. "I've no reason to bear malice against Your Majesty. Feel free to ask me anything; I will withhold no ugly detail."

"What was your most triumphant moment, in your mind?" Eleanor asked.

Irene closed her eyes and thinks.

"Prying the chancellorship from my brother seems the obvious answer, but it was strangely unfulfilling." she confessed. "My most triumphant moment was winning the first 2004 election. To have moulded Pantocratoria to my will for the better part of twenty years, to have my vision vindicated, to have ordinary Pantocratorians thank me for telling them what they could wear, what they could listen to, what they could talk about, what they could watch, how they could raise their children, to have them admit I was right about everything by affirming my mandate to continue."

Eleanor smiled a little. "That makes sense. All rhetoric aside, how do you honestly feel about...people like me?"

"What, Queens?" Irene replied.

"Non-humans." Eleanor responded, quite bluntly and to the point.

Irene cracked a rare smile. For any Pantocratorian it would be a genuinely terrifying moment.

"It isn't something you should take personally, Madame." said Irene. "We Pantocratorians have a manifest destiny. The way so many inhumans carry on is so unseemly, so disrespectful of that destiny. Everything in the universe has a place, everything is ordered according to the divine plan, and mankind stands between the rest of creation and God. I have no great personal dislike of most inhumans, I even have a great regard for some of them, individually. And a Queen is a Queen, irrespective of her race. I found my secretary's behaviour towards Your Majesty utterly appalling. But divine plans and universal hierarchies aren't so easily explained to the masses as distinctions drawn along racial grounds. Does that answer your question?"

"It rather does." Eleanor paused a moment, to take this in and consider her next question. "Have you ever done something you considered to be generally wrong, but nonetheless necessary?"

"Do you have something in mind in particular?" Irene asked, always looking for the hidden meaning.

"Honestly, I don't."

"Perhaps there were times when I acted in a questionable fashion by the standards of others. But as far as I'm concerned, I always did what was right. That which is necessary is always right." Irene answered.

Eleanor smiled at that. "A wise sentiment."

"Honestly, those who believe otherwise are just desperately reaching for the moral high ground. Those who understand what must be done know that it is also the righteous thing to do by definition. What about you, Madame?" Irene asked.

Eleanor shifted her hands ever so slightly. "I've only done the necessary."

"You have therefore done what is right." Irene said, matter of factly.

Eleanor nodded. "My point exactly. But, that being established, have you ever been troubled by a regrettable necessity?"

"Very infrequently." Irene replied.

"Which is still a yes." Eleanor noted.

"Then yes. But not for very long." Irene elaborated, somewhat indignantly.

Eleanor arched a brow faintly. "I meant no offense, Madame, I assure you."

"It is Mademoiselle actually. I've never married, and I'm not the lady of any estate or holding." Irene said. "Do regrettable necessities ever trouble Your Majesty?"

Eleanor nodded. "One does not like to make sacrifices, though one always must."

"Indeed." Irene said, glancing knowingly down at the file she had just put aside on her desk, before looking back up at the sidhe queen. "Can I offer you anything, Madame? A drink? Something to eat?"

"A drink would be welcome, Your Highness." she replied.

Irene pressed a button on the phone on her desk, which soon summoned a maid from an adjacent chamber. The maid curtsied to the two women and silently awaited their decision.

"Tea? Coffee?" Irene asked. "Water, juice or wine?"

"Wine, please." Eleanor answered, smiling.

"White or red?"

"Red."

Irene turned to the maid.

"Two glasses of a red Chantouillet." she said.

The maid curtsied and retreated from the office back through one of the side doors.

"His Majesty believes that one can tell a lot about a person based on their choice of drink." said Irene. "The science remains somewhat of a mystery to me."

"One can tell some things, I believe. But I would not place much trust in such a deduction."

"So, while we're waiting for the wine," Irene said. "What possessed Your Majesty to make the journey to Pantocratoria?"

Eleanor smirked faintly. "Bluntly, Your Highness?"

"It would be in keeping with most of the conversation."

"Wherever Agwene sends an embassy, I try to make a better impression yet."

"Care to elaborate?" Irene asked.

"I would if there were more to it than that. I generally try to outmanuever the high court in matters of diplomacy. It is something which....might have uses."

"Indeed."

The maid returns carrying a silver platter on which sit two crystal glasses of wine. Irene waits for Eleanor to take one before helping herself to the other.

Eleanor took her wine, smiling gently to the maid. "Thank you kindly, miss...?"

"...uh..." the maid started uncertainly. "Henrique, Madame. Marie Henrique."

"You may go." Irene dismissed the maid.

Eleanor furrowed her brow slightly, looking to Irene. "She seemed disconcerted."

"Naturally." said Irene. "One doesn't trouble oneself with one's maid's names insofar as one can help it here."

"Local custom." Eleanor noted, not commenting further.

"There wouldn't be any point anyway. What kind of conversation could possibly exist between a maid and a princess? Or a queen for that matter?" Irene asked.

"Rhetorical question or do you honestly want to know what I talk about with my maids?"

"I'm genuinely interested, since I've never tried." Irene replied.

Eleanor pondered for a long moment. "The last conversation I had was about automobiles, actually. I had gotten one of the first in our kingdom, of course. She just saved enough pay for her own this week and she wanted to know what to expect."

"She initiated it?" Irene asked, now genuinely surprised.

"Yes." Eleanor answered simply.

"I see." Irene said. "I still don't see the appeal. But nevertheless, local custom, as Your Majesty said."

Both women sipped their wine.

"I do believe I am out of questions." said Eleanor.

"So, now that you've seen the beast up close, what do you think?" Irene asked.

"I find you a most charming woman to be honest." Eleanor replied.

"Oh?" Irene asked, looking vaguely disappointed. "I wonder what you see that my nieces don't."

"Your nieces have not so many years in politics as we do."

"I pray that they never do." Irene said. "If I may be so bold, how many years has Your Majesty spent in politics?"

"I can only clearly recall the last century to be truthful. But I would not doubt some years before that as well."

"Does that memory lapse extend to the rest of your life? Do you not remember anything before the last century?" Irene asked, curious.

"Very little. I didn't live on earth before then."

"Where did you live?" Irene asked.

"I don't know."

"Ah." Irene replied. She didn't know what Eleanor meant and wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"What did you think?"

"I was trying not to actually." Irene replied.

"Oh?" Eleanor smiled slightly.

"Well, Your Majesty, I must confess that I had thought you came here to gloat." Irene said. "I've been proven wrong. It is strange in a way, but in certain respects we are much alike."

"I agree. Just not...cosmologically." She grinned slightly. "It was good to meet you, Your Highness."

"A pleasure, Your Majesty. I will be sure to attend court this evening." Irene replied. Naturally, she didn't return Eleanor's grin. Eleanor rose and inclined her head.

"Then I shall see you there." Irene said as she rose and curtsied to the Queen.

"Good evening." And she turned, heading out.

One hour after her reception in the Great Hall, Queen Eleanor of Wintermore was informed of the Pantocratorian Emperor's arrival at her apartments.

"Your Majesty," said the herald. "His Majesty the Emperor awaits your pleasure in the antechamber."

The Emperor waited for Eleanor in the antechamber of the Queen's apartments, dressed now in a dinner suit with a purple sash instead of the heavy, restrictive regalia he wore for her arrival.
Eleanor stepped out into the antechamber, inclining her head to the Emperor. "Your Imperial Majesty."

The Emperor rose from the chair in which he had been sitting as the Queen entered the room, and returned her polite nod.

"Your Majesty," he said. He offered the Queen his arm. "May I have the privilege of showing you about the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator?"

"The privilege is mine, I assure you." Eleanor responded, sliding her arm into his.

"These royal guest apartments were first built for visiting royalty by my ancestor Manuel V around the turn of the 18th century." the Emperor said as he guided Eleanor out of her apartments and into the hallway outside. There were half a dozen sets of doors leading to identical apartments in the hallway. "They've never actually all been in use at the same time."

He guided her down the hallway back towards the heart of the palace complex, and reflected upon how good it felt to have a queen on his arm again. Eleanor's natural sidhe nobility and beauty made quite an impression on him.

Eleanor nodded. "They are quite excellent chambers. I have found them pleasant during my stay."

The two walked through the whole guest wing with similar comments made about the apartments which had been constructed for one rank of visiting dignitary or another. Manuel V was apparently a busy boy.

Eleanor nodded, noting each chambers entrance and politely paying compliment.

"So," the Emperor slipped in, between tour-guide like remarks. "I understand you'll be visiting New Constantinople after your stay here?"

"I will. I hear it is a most fascinating city." she answered.

"It has its appeal." the Emperor conceded, leading the Queen through a particularly grand door as they left the guest wing. At every set of doors the Varangian Guard clicked their heels together and stood to attention as the Emperor passed without comment.

The pair had just entered a large chapel built in a distinctly Byzantine style - it was clearly older than the baroque wings through which the two had thus far been walking. Icon of the Emperor Constantine I adorned the walls. The Emperor crossed himself with holy water and held his damp fingers to Eleanor for her to touch and do the same.

"This is the Chapel of Saint Constantine the Great," the Emperor said. "He was the first Christian Emperor of the Romans. There's a practically identical chapel on the otherside of this part of the palace, like a mirror of this side, dedicated to Saint Constantine the Martyr, the last of my line to rule from Constantinople."

He pointed out the various pieces of art before he was ready to move on.

Eleanor paused, looking at the Holy Water in mild confusion. After a moment, she touches his fingers and then touches the points of a cross on herself, though the order is slightly off.

The Emperor politely ignored the defects in the ritual, although he couldn't help but notice them. Even if she wasn't a foreign dignitary whom the Emperor didn't wish to offend, he'd find it hard to be angry or disapproving to the charming Eleanor. He guided her out of the chapel and back down the hall without comment.

"Are you planning to visit any other parts of Pantocratoria other than New Rome and New Constantinople?" the Emperor asked as he led her down another long hall.

Eleanor shook her head. "Unfortunately not. Rank has its burdens as well as its privileges. Time is not something I often have to spare."

"I share the sentiment." the Emperor said, leading the Queen into a series of drawing rooms, whose doors were opened and aligned such that it formed a pseudo hallway down one side. "These drawing rooms were built by Emperor Louis, the first Pantocratorian Emperor who was also the King of France. There are six drawing rooms, each dedicated to a King of France. This one is dedicated to Charlemagne, the next to Saint Louis, the next to Philippe Augustus, the next to Charles VII, the one after that to François I, and the last to Louis XIV."

Eleanor simply nodded, taking in the rooms. "Quite lovely, if I may say."

"Normally one would have a view of the gardens from here..." the Emperor said as the two stood in the Louis XIV drawing room looking out of the window. "Unfortunately it is rather too dark to see very much."

The formal gardens in the courtyard immediately below were clearly visible, thanks to being lit up with flood lights. Those gardens were mainly for the benefit of observers from the palace - they were very impressive when viewed from above, but weren't particularly interesting to stroll through. Beyond that the darkness obscured the jousting field, private hunting forest, and the gardens for walking. The Emperor stared out of the window for a few seconds.

"I understand that noblewomen joust in the Resurgent Dream?" he asked, the thought coming to him as he looking out into the dark palace grounds.

Eleanor nodded. "We do. I'm not as good as some of my peers, I must admit."

"I imagine it must be an interesting spectacle. When I was young I jousted, but I've not for twenty years or so." the Emperor said. "Shall we head to the ballroom for this evening's reception?"

Eleanor nodded. "That sounds lovely, Your Majesty."

The Emperor led Eleanor back down the drawing rooms and through the palace towards the main ballroom. The ostentatious opulence of the baroque and rococo decorations, and the conspicuous abundance they represented, were designed both to delight the visitor with their delicacy and beauty, and to impress petitioners and foreign ambassadors with the wealth and power of the Emperor. It was so over the top as to be easily taken to be in poor taste by modern standards.

The two finally arrived at the ballroom, where their arrival was announced by blaring trumpets and formal announcements. The assembled courtiers all stood to greet the pair as they entered and made their way through to the head table, over which hung the arms of both the Emperor and the Queen. Courtiers bobbed up and down with bows and curtsies like a Mexican wave sweeping the room along their route. Eleanor smiled lightly, inclining her head to the crowd. Seated with them at the head table were the Emperor's children, and both his siblings (although they were seated as far apart as the table would allow). Seated beside Prince Basil were his wife Princess Jacqueline, and one of their daughters, Princess Marie, a young woman of twenty. Basil politely made the necessary introductions. Eleanor nodded graciously to all of them as they were introduced.

The entrée was more than a full main course by any regular standard, with far more food laid out on the guest tables than it could be reasonably expected they would eat, in a demonstration of the Emperor's largesse. Omelettes made with peacock eggs, thinly sliced red salmon in crepes, honey glazed ham, and any number of other exquisite dishes, lovingly slaved over for hours in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator's cavernous kitchens. The guests were served but a small fraction of the food which was laid out, in the knowledge that the main course was still on its way.

"Do you have any children, Your Majesty?" asked Princess Zoë.

"Zoë!" Theodora hushed her younger sister.

"She doesn't need you to mother her, Theodora." the Emperor chided. He'd rather his children ask questions freely, even inappropriate ones, and look relaxed rather than freeze up and not speak at all, afraid of making a mistake.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." Theodora apologised to her father. "I apologise, Zoë."

Eleanor laughed lightly, smiling reassuringly at the children. "It's quite alright, really. However, I have not yet aquired a husband, Princess Zoe." She held up her right hand, showing the naked ring finger. "After I am wed, then I will see about children."

Eleanor ate politely, yet heartily, savoring the rather impressive feast.

"Careful, don't wait too long to look for one, or it might be too late." Zoë said and looked over to Irene. Theodora's eyes widened and she quickly fixed them on her plate, not allowing herself a glance elsewhere. Prince Constantine surpressed a chuckle.

"What a charming rebellious phase Your Majesty's daughter has entered." Irene said to the Emperor, her voice icier than usual. "None of the older girls ever said such things, especially to such esteemed visitors as Her Majesty. Marie, you've conducted yourself wonderfully."

"Thankyou, Your Highness." said Basil's younger daughter quietly.

"I'd like to spend more time with my younger nieces." Irene continued. "Perhaps if Theodora and Zoë had been old enough to attend my etiquette classes for Helen, Marie and Anna..."

This provoked a look of horror from Theodora and shook Zoë's resolve a little.

"I see what you're driving at," the Emperor replied. "And I agree with you. Theodora and Zoë could certainly benefit from your tuition, and it would give you a chance to spend more time with them. However, I am equally certain that that Her Majesty isn't interested in the education of my daughters."

The Emperor finishes his glass of wine. A servant holding a bottle, another holding a cloth of purple velvet, and another not holding anything wearing white cloves step forward. The one in the gloves picks up the Emperor's empty glass, and steps back. He turns to the servant holding the velvet, who wipes the edge of the glass clean, and then to the servant holding the bottle, who pours and refills the glass. The servant in the gloves then places the glass back on the table. The Emperor continued to speak to Eleanor throughout the ritual.

"Actually, perhaps sister, you would consider contributing to the education of everyone at this table by describing your people and the other peoples of the Resurgent Dream?" he asked Eleanor.

Eleanor smiled at Irene's manuever. It was an easy opening, true, but something about the delivery and execution required appreciation. "Well, Princess Zoe, that would hardly be the end of the world. There are any number of great leaders who never wed, both at present and throughout history."

Eleanor nodded to Andreus. "As you wish, brother. Our people, meaning the fairy races collectively, draw sustenance from creativity. We do not age more than we wish. We are overwhelmingly Danaan in religion. We value passion and freedom highly. We tend to build on a small scale with the obvious exception of the trolls, who prefer things grand. There are fifty-six distinct races of fairy of which only nine dominate in number."

*bump*

The entrée was cleared and the main courses were laid out on each table. Spit-roasted peacocks, roast beef, and roast lamb were laid out with baked vegetables, salads, pastas, and breads. As the main was being served, Zoë opened her mouth to ask another question, but no sound came out as Theodora sharply elbowed her in the side underneath the table. She didn't want to see what other wonderful disciplinarian delights her little sister could get her into in addition to Irene's etiquette lessons.

"I understand that the Resurgent Dream has engaged in some sort of military exercise with Excalbia, Your Majesty." said Prince Basil. "Excalbia is Pantocratoria's closest ally. Does Your Majesty have any opinion on the events currently unfolding in the Excalbian Isles?"

Eleanor arches a brow as she began to eat daintily. "We do certainly value our friendly relationship with Excalbia, though the matter is more the affair of the High Queen and of the King of Holista than it is of Wintermore. Whatever the case may be, I am not aware of any joint military excercises being conducted. We do have an often exchange program, but only on the individual level."

The queen frowned as she considered. "The situation in the Excalbian Isles is certainly a tragic one and we are always hesitant to take positions on the affairs of others when we are not involved. Still, it is hard to avoid sympathizing with Excalbia. Not only are we on friendlier terms with them than with the other parties, indeed we have had no diplomatic contact even of the indirect sort with some nations involved, but we are also more in sympathy with the ideals for which Excalbia fights"

The sidhe shook her head a little as though to clear it. "Still, we find reports of radical secularism in some parts of the Isles to be even more troubling than the wars. While it might sound odd for a Danaan to defend the sanctity of Excalbian Churches, the idea of large numbers of people living their lives with no thought whatsoever to their own spiritual life and development and to the Creator of All That Is troubles my heart deeply."

"It is profoundly disturbing," the Emperor replied in his usual cold, authoritative manner. "But not altogether unsurprising. Through lacking an ultimate authority and moral absolute, the Protestant churches, including the Church of Excalbia, sow the seeds of the secularism and atheism which have consistently proven to be their downfalls in other nations. Remove God from a church, and the people will soon be removed as well. A religion built around the usurpation of legitimate ecclesial authority will soon have whatever authority to which it lays claim usurped in turn."

"The Excalbian Imperial Family are Protestants, Your Majesty," said Prince Constantine, a hint of protest in his voice. "Prince Joseph is a Protes..."

"And I am deeply saddened by it." said the Emperor. "They are our dearest friends and closest allies, and it is because of the filial regard I have for Emperor David that I am unafraid in indicating the true cause of the religious crisis unfolding in Excalbia. I am not saying that the Excalbians are directly to blame for the fearful claptrap which is sweeping across the Excalbian Isles, but it is through their own vulnerability that such doctrines have taken hold there. Protestantism is that vulnerability. It is the Protestant religion which has made that nation, our dearest ally, victim to such godless dogmas as are held dear in Knootoss. Mark my words, such doctrines could never take root here in Pantocratoria!"

Constantine and Basil both seemed uncomfortable with the Emperor's assertion. Irene seemed unphased, and most everyone else looked supremely disinterested. But the Emperor found these sort of discussions quite engaging, and so nobody expected the topic to pass quickly.

Eleanor smiled politely with a measuredly bemused expression as she paused in her eating. "Your Imperial Majesty will forgive me for being somewhat at a loss to comment on theological differences within the Christian faith."

She took another delicate bite of peacock, smiling lightly. She studied Basil and Constantine a moment, taking note of their apparent disagreement.

"Of course." replied the Emperor, nodding to Eleanor.

"Surely Your Majesty isn't suggesting that the Excalbians brought this Knootian mess upon themselves?" Basil pressed.

"Not the Excalbians, but their church." said the Emperor. "The decline in the moral authority of the Church of Excalbia is perhaps best illustrated by the ignominious way in which its former Presiding Bishop died the other night. You've seen the papers haven't you? Bishop Purins died of a heart attack, presumably as a result of getting too excited in the company of his young mistress. When the leader of a church is a moral bankrupt himself, the church which follows him cannot be far behind, surely. Small wonder Excalbians are turning elsewhere for their answers."

"And Your Majesty is confident that the same thing couldn't happen in Pantocratoria, that Pantocratorians won't turn elsewhere for answers themselves?" asked Constantine.

"Quite sure." replied the Emperor. "But the topic is boring our guest, so let's put further discussion on the matter aside for later."

Eleanor was silent for a long moment, sinking deep into thought. "Lady Galadriël Táralom nos Círdan..." She shook her head a little. "To be honest, we have had essentially no contact with Knootos in the past. It is not that we would object to such a thing. The policy of the Danaan High Kingdom, and even moreso of the Kingdom of Wintermore, is to seek normalized relations with willing nations in spite of racial and ideological differences or even hostility and crossed purposes on the world stage. Still, if Knootos seeks to have greater influence in the Excalbian Isles even as we seek to strengthen our own relationship with Excalbia, they will have to be given more consideration."

Eleanor then smiled lightly. "Before we wholly abandon religion, I believe Your Imperial Majesty will be pleased to hear that Gregory ap Liam, King of Holista, has recently accepted the Roman Catholic faith."

"I am pleased to hear that, although I wish it were you, dear sister, to have the distinction of being the first sidhe monarch to convert to Christianity." said the Emperor. "Baptism opens more doors than just the pearly gates."

"The Knootians will use any method they can get their tendrils on to achieve their objectives." said Basil, changing the topic slightly. "It wouldn't surprise me if the spread of their philosophy is being deliberately orchestrated by the Knootian government in an effort to undermine the resolve of the nations which boycotted Knootian goods in response to their invasion of Tanah Burung."

"If the Invisible Hand comes to the Empire, remember who was responsible for the Knootian Boycott Act, dear brother." Irene remarked to Basil in a cold, accusatory tone.

"Somebody had to do something, dear sister..." said Basil, almost spitting the last two words. "...because clearly, you weren't going to."

"Enough! Enough!" said the Emperor. He maintained his composure, as always, and talked firmly but without emotion. "It has been far too long since we have been able to sit down as a family and break bread together without arguments about politics. You're both in opposition now, so stop your bickering!"

"I apologise, Your Majesty." said Irene.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty." said Basil.

"And I apologise to Your Majesty." said the Emperor to Eleanor.

Eleanor let the Emperor's wish pass without comment. She smiled lightly, knowing that he meant it as a compliment, at least. "I have always been rather unclear about why the Knootians invaded Tanah Burung. I believe there was an accusation of terrorism involved?" The question is an innocent one, seemingly.

"The Invisible Hand..." Eleanor shook her head again as she had at the mention of Lady Galadriel. "We do believe in market economics, though not of the absolute and unregulated kind. Still...to elevate even the most moral economic principles to the point of usurping morality as such...." She bit her left delicately, looking off in visible disgust at the thought.

She smiled oh so softly to Andreus. "It is quite alright, Your Majesty. I cannot but be impressed with the zeal of Their Highnesses on matters of political principle."

"A false accusation, judging by all evidence not originating from Knootian sources." said Constantine.

"Will Your Majesty be spending much time here before travelling to New Constantinople?" asked Princess Jacqueline, Basil's wife, eager to stop talking about politics.

Eleanor shook her head sadly. "Unfortunately not, Princess Jacqueline. I will only remain in New Rome for a tiny march of days. However, I assure you that it has been a very pleasant visit. Pantocratoria is a beautiful country with most charming people and I do hope our peoples might become friends with time." She smiled warmly to the princess.

"Perhaps Your Majesty would do me the honour of accompanying me to Mass tomorrow morning at the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator? At least that way you will be able to see a little more of New Rome in that tiny march of days before you leave." the Emperor offered.

Eleanor grinned. "I would love to accompany Your Majesty. You will have to tell me exactly what it is that I am supposed to do. Unfortunately, I have never before had the opportunity to attend a Mass."

Eleanor finished the food on her plate, smiling contentedly. "I must again compliment my hosts on a most impressive meal."

After the main course is complete, dessert is soon laid out. A spread of bombe alaskas, crême caramels, and gateaux of several varieties replaces the remnants of the mains. There are both generous and smaller servings of everything provided, to provide a choice to those who were already thoroughly gorged.

"I promise you, you will not find me a negligent host." the Emperor replied to Eleanor. "I will tell you everything you need to know."

Irene looked across to Marie and Theodora, neither of whom served themselves a dessert.

"Theodora, Marie, is there something wrong with the food?" she asked.

"I'm quite full, Your Highness." replied Marie.

"I'm watching my figure." Theodora said.

"You hardly need to, Theodora!" said Jacqueline. "If anything, you're too thin."

"I just don't like desserts, that's all." said Theodora. She was thin, but not unhealthily so, and didn't appreciate her aunts making a big deal out of her not eating dessert.

"Not even a little?" Jacqueline asked, not aware of how the topic was annoying Theodora. "Go ahead and have something, you're in no danger of getting fat my dear! You're so pretty, isn't she pretty?"

Basil, quite involved in his generous serving of bombe alaska, wasn't following the conversation, but knew to politely nod along with his wife.

"Please stop." Theodora said, embarassed.

"You know who you look like, Theodora?" asked the Emperor, looking across the table from his crême caramel. He rarely engaged in these sort of discussions, so his interjection instantly attracted Theodora's attention.

"Mother, Your Majesty?" she asked hopefully, taking a sip of water. The Emperor frowned and thought over it for a moment.

"A little I suppose. But I was going to say you look like Irene when she was your age." replied the Emperor.

Theodora held her hand to her mouth to stop herself from spraying water all over the table. Marie did so too, but to surpress a laugh rather than a spray of liquid. Zoë didn't bother surpressing her chuckle.

"Oh God..." murmured Theodora inaudibly.

"I think Your Majesty will be impressed by the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator." Irene said to Eleanor, quickly changing the topic.

"I do hope so." Eleanor said. "It will be a new experience, at any rate. In Wintermore, the houses of worship are almost all in the open air of nature. In Shieldcrest, there are some rather grand temples but I have rarely had occassion to travel there for long."

Eleanor took some of the dessert, eating daintily. "I must say that I have found Pantocratorian architecture rather impressive so far. The style is much more grand and...rather larger than anything back home."

"Are we even grander than the trolls?" asked Zoë, finding the opportunity irresistible. The table fell silent for a few moments.

"I'll start those etiquette lessons first thing tomorrow after Mass, Your Majesty!" Irene promised the Emperor, glancing at Zoë as she did so.

"The architecture, on the whole, is a mix of both Byzantine and Western, chiefly French baroque influences." said the Emperor. "On the whole, the older the building, the more it tends to Byzantine influence. The Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator, as you'll see tomorrow, is extremely similar to the Hagia Sophia in Constantinople, before its own style was corrupted by the addition of Turkish adornments. In some ways the styles are very complementary, in other ways they clash horrendously. The tendency towards large, impressive rooms exists in both original styles, and is therefore quite complementary. The attention to minutia, the opulence are more baroque characteristics."

Eleanor smiled indulgently at Zoë. "Yes, Princess Zoë, you are. Trollish buildings, while large, are not given to extensive decoration. They are normally very Nordic in style, huge, grand halls filled with nothing but a huge grand table or with trophies of war hung on the walls. However, statuary is not something the trollish decorator seems to have much use for. The designs are almost all martial in nature even in buildings built during long periods of peace."

Eleanor nodded to the Emperor. "Unfortunately, I have not seen the Hagia Sophia, though I have heard of both the grandeur of Byzantium and of France. I understand that Your Imperial Majesty is sovereign to both of those kingdoms."

She took another bite of her dessert. "Yeats wrote some of the immortal grandeur of the Byzantine Empire. Are you familiar with Yeats?"

The Emperor fell silent and his gaze went distant. He had a eidetic memory, that perculiar sort of intellect which stored and collected everything he had ever seen, heard, and read. He was like that for a few seconds, then he recited part of a poem he had read as a teenager studying English in his father's favourite palace, Chantouillet.

"An aged man is but a paltry thing,
A tattered coat upon a stick, unless
Soul clap its hands and sing, and louder sing
For every tatter in its mortal dress,
Nor is there singing school but studying
Monuments of its own magnificence;
And therefore I have sailed the seas and come
To the holy city of Byzantium." he recited in the original English before returning to French. "Yes, I have read some Yates, a long time ago. One of the few poets which breathes some life into that clumsy language."

"I don't think I understood very much of that." said Jacqueline.

"I seem to recall, Madame, that your English tutor had an almost pathological dislike for poetry." the Emperor replied. "Rest assured, Yates was not the cause."

He turned back to Eleanor.

"The founders of Pantocratoria were refugees, fleeing the barbarous Turkish Sultan who conquered Constantinople in 1453. The painting you would've seen in the entrance hall, Le Martyre de Constantine XI, illustrates the city's fall. The Pantocratorian crown is a continuation of the imperial diadem of the Roman Empire." the Emperor explained. "As for France, my Great-Great-Great Grandfather was the Dauphin Louis-Charles, Louis XVII, who disappeared during the Revolution. He was smuggled to Pantocratoria, where he married the daughter of the last Comnenoi Emperor, and the two were crowned co-sovereigns. I am therefore the King of France by any legitimate measure."

The queen seemed to glow faintlyduring the recitation, taking it in with rapt attention.

Eleanor smirked faintly. "You are speaking of my native tongue, Your Imperial Majesty."

She listened politely to the tale of Pantocratoria's founding. "Yes, it certainly does. It is nice to visit a nation where old traditions remain strong in spite of historical hardships."

"A grave misfortune for you," the Emperor replied to Eleanor's remark about English being her native language. "But a great boon to the language. Your French is excellent, may I add."

"Tradition is, of course, at the heart of Pantocratorian society." Irene replied to the Queen's second remark. "Without tradition, a race is nothing. A people without traditions are no longer a people at all, but beasts."

An appropriate attitude to have, perhaps, for a family which was the living embodiment of tradition, which had always existed admist stultifying ritual, crushing ceremonial and oppressive routines. It was not, however, an attitude which sat well with some of the younger family members.

"Traditions are certainly very important, but surely not having them doesn't make a person a beast." said Constantine. Irene's only reply was a silent icy stare.

"In any event, we are proud of our traditions, as I am sure your people are, Your Majesty." said Basil.

Eleanor arched a brow faintly at the Emperor's comment, her smile fading. "I consider it a great fortune to speak the same tongue as Shakesepeare, Marlowe, and Kidd, Oberon and Titania, King Arthur and his knights, the language of Timon himself."

Eleanor considered the argument for a long moment. "Perhaps. But there are peoples in the world with traditions which they would be less beastly for losing, not more, peoples who traditionally practice blood sports or other wicked behavior. And such things are not limited to barbarians and savages. The ancient Romans, before the conversion of the Empire to Christianity, were among the most civilized people of their day and yet they still revelled in spectacles where men lost their lives for sport."

Eleanor smiled to Basil. "Thank you, Prince Basil. We are very proud of our traditions, though most impressed by yours, as well."

"And thank God for those traditions, without them we wouldn't have so many martyrs." pronounced Irene, her only reply being silence.

"My dear," the Emperor said. "Shakespeare invented a quarter of the language himself, if he really existed King Arthur would've spoken Welsh instead of the language of the Saxons he fought against, and Timon of Athens spoke Greek."

"His Majesty is, I suspect, being unduly critical of English just for the conversation." Theodora ventured. Normally she wouldn't dare but she could see Eleanor wasn't enjoying the attacks on her native tongue. "Pardon me for presuming, Majesty, but you always took such interest in our English lessons. Surely if you thought so little of the language you wouldn't have it taught to your own children, or insisted that we spend more time on it than any other subject."

The Emperor glared at Theodora for a few moments, before smiling ever so slightly - which amounted to a barely perceivable upwards turn in his lower lip. Theodora beamed back, and tried to think of the last time she had made her father smile. No such instance came to mind.

"It appears that I have been given away." said the Emperor. "Theodora's quite right. I love criticising English, but I do have a certain affection for the language. It is the new language of diplomacy, and I have always been eternally grateful for my English lessons."

"Timon of Athens, despite my admiration for a few witty remarks he might have made to Arcesilaus, is not who any native of the Resurgent Dream means when they refer to Timon. I mean Timon, son of Gwydion, father of his country. And as for Arthur Pendragon, there is more truth to the legends and less to the historical reconstructions than you might guess. He is a figure well known to us. He was half-sidhe, if you'll recall."

Eleanor finished up her dessert, smiling to Theodora. "And I love and admire French. It is a noble language, courtly and romantic. It was the language of civilization for centuries on end and the language of many of history's greatest leaders and writers and warriors."

"We can certainly agree on that." replied the Emperor. He briefly wondered about whether Arthur, Oberon and Titania were mythical figures at all if Eleanor could be so sure about them speaking English, and about Arthur being half-sidhe, but didn't bring it up. He preferred his childhood fairytales to remain just that - fairytales.

With everyone now having finished their desserts, there remained little still to do at the table. The Emperor rose, and was followed by everyone else.

"Well sister, I have found your company most pleasant indeed." he said. "I trust you will join me tomorrow morning for Mass. Good evening."

The Emperor left the table, and the hall, joined by Varangians and Sir Constantine, and the whole court bowed where they stood as he did so.

Eleanor stood when the Emperor did. "I look forward to it, brother." She inclined her head deeply and smiled slightly as he and his company left the room.

For her own part, Eleanor made her way back to her chambers. She sat quietly on the edge of the bed for some time. Eventually, she undressed and went to sleep, her mind on what this Mass would be like.

Depending on her sensitivity to such things, Eleanor may have found the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator a difficult place to sleep. On nights like that night, when it stormed outside, the lightning briefly illuminated rooms and halls through their windows, and when the winds swept through the vast courtyard making haunting howling noises, it seemed to crawl with the ghosts of four centuries worth of emperors and princes, plotters and poisoners, murderers and their victims, lovers and warriors.

***

Despite the poor weather of the night before, the storm broke before sunrise, and calm which followed it was magnificent, the best weather New Rome had experienced of the season. Outside in the palace's huge courtyard, attendants scampered about the place as the procession to the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator was prepared.

At the procession's head, four Varangians in their dress uniforms held heavy, ornately decorated golden poles, holding up a magnificent purple canopy embroidered with thread of gold and silver. On the top of the canopy in silver and gold, a stitched double-headed eagle wearing three crowns clutched at sceptres, swords and orbs showed onlookers that the Emperor walked underneath. On the underside, the Cross of the Pantocratorian Crusade stitched in gold, to remind the Emperor of his divine right and obligation. Standing underneath the canopy in a different set of regalia to that which he had worn yesterday, with an olive wreath of gold and silver instead of a heavy crown, was the Emperor. Next to the canopy, Sir Constantine stood, wearing shining armour, barking orders to the Varangians who were forming the procession's honour guard. Behind the canopy, members of the Imperial Family and courtiers were pottering about, engaged in petty bickering and gossip, ready to fall into the procession according to precedence.

This was the scene Eleanor saw as she left the palace for the courtyard to join the procession. The Emperor turned and saw her - even with so many people buzzing about, she was hard to miss. He gestured for the Queen to join him underneath the canopy.

Eleanor slept like a baby. She was, in truth, quite sensitive to such things but that did not mean that she minded them. Nights in Wintermore were often witness to much more literal ghostliness.
...
The next morning, Eleanor took a long moment to take in the scene heading for mass. Smiling, she glided over to join the emperor beneath the canopy. "Good morning, Your Majesty."

As Eleanor made her way to the Emperor, she could see an orchestra setting up on the thick walls which surrounded the palace compound, performing sound checks, and setting up electronic equipment so that the music would be audible along the entire route to the Cathedral.

"Good morning, Your Majesty." said the Emperor. "I trust you slept well."

Half-a-dozen pageboys dressed in splendid jackets stitched with the letters "AI" carrying poles with ostrich and peacock feathers took their positions flanking the canopy, three on each side. Behind the canopy heralds gathered carrying the standards of the Empire, and of the House of Bourbon-Comnenus-Palaeologus. In a few moments the procession was ready.

***

Outside the palace gates, a crowd was gathering. A simple notice of the imperial attendance on the gates had been enough to attract them - the people of New Rome had been waiting for the Emperor to officially celebrate the fall from power of General Altman in Upper Virginia by attending Mass at the Cathedral for some time now. Besides that, the newspapers said that he had a foreign queen in his company, and a non-human one at that. The curious crowd was pushed back by Varangians and a purple carpet was laid down in the direction of the Cathedral.

Trumpets blared and the orchestra began to play Lully's musical accompaniment to a two choir version of the Te Deum. The gates were opened and the crowd cheered as the imperial procession left the palace compound. Their curious eyes immediately fell upon Eleanor, next to the Emperor underneath the purple canopy, and an excited murmur broke out which threatened to drown out the occassional "Ave Caesar" and "Vivé l'Empereur". Above all the music played and the procession made its way at a stately pace along the purple carpet. Behind the canopy and the standards walked the courtiers in order of precedence - princes of the blood, dukes, counts and so on.

Eleanor inclined her head. "Indeed. My night was quite peaceful. Thank you for asking, Your Majesty."

Eleanor glanced around for a long moment, taking in all the sights. She arched a brow ever so faintly at the heralds, looking off thoughtfully a moment.

As the procession began to move, Eleanor glided alongside the Emperor with perfect grace. She turned to the murmuring crowds and gave them a small, winsome hint of a smile, her eyes twinkling.

"Mama, is that an elf?" asked a little girl at the front of the crowd as the procession passed by.

"No Isabelle, that's... ummm... I don't know, but it isn't an elf. Don't stare, it isn't polite." answered the child's mother.

"Why?"

"It just isn't."

"But why?" the little girl asked again, no doubt with the intent of repeating the question ad nauseum.

The huge Byzantine structure of the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator loomed over the rooftops of the picturesque homes of New Rome's wealthiest citizens as the Emperor's procession made its progress towards it. The crowd's usual enthusiasm for imperial pomp and circumstance was overshadowed by its curiousity. More than a few scowled disapprovingly at the sidhe queen, but the majority were too impressed and dazzled by her supernatural beauty and exotic appearance for such expressions. Those not too awestruck reached for cameras and snapped away eagerly.

Finally the procession reached the steps of the Cathedral. The pageboys carrying the feather fans withdrew, and the canopy was stretched out over the carpeted steps for the Emperor and the Queen to enter the Cathedral. The Emperor led Eleanor up the steps and stepped inside. He dipped his fingers in the holy water, crossed himself, and held his hand out to Eleanor.

"Touch my fingers with your own and repeat the same motion." he whispered, true to his promise of making sure Eleanor knew what to do. Behind them the canopy was withdrawn and taken aside.

The glittering interior of the Cathedral was breathtaking. Most of the walls and ceilings, including the massive dome in the centre of the huge church, were covered in Byzantine icons. The huge mosaics were haunting, their style much more primitive than the oil paintings which dominated the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, and yet no less beautiful - perhaps even more so for the obvious devotion of the artists who had made them. The people in the cathedral had all risen to their feet for the imperial arrival, and the purple carpet continued up the aisle down to almost the centre of the building, where the altar stood, where it diverted towards an elevated box with enough room for a dozen people, decorated with a silver double headed eagle and draped in purple silk.

Eleanor smiled ever so gently at the little girl as she passed. She murmured something in Gaelic and closed her fist, then opened it. A small, white acacia flew out, tossing itself to the child. Eleanor continued on her way.

The queen gave the same gentle smile to the crowds everywhere, including the scowling faces.

Eleanor touched the Emperor's fingers and copied his motions exactly, managing to cross herself correctly this time. "Thank you."

She continued to walk along with the emperor, heading down the carpet.

The congregation bowed as the Emperor and the Queen made their way along the purple carpet, followed by the rest of the Imperial Family. The Emperor reaches the foot of the stairs to the imperial box and genuflects to the tabernacle, nodding for Eleanor to do the same. He then proceeds up into the box, where he stands waiting for Eleanor and his family to join him.

Eleanor also genuflected to the tabernacle, gliding up to join the emperor quietly. She took the alien ceremony in with a slight smile as she waited.

Princesses Theodora and Zoë joined the Emperor and the Queen in the front row of the imperial box after genuflecting in turn. Prince Basil, Princess Jacqueline, Princess Marie and Princess Irene went to the row behind them. After the Imperial Family assumed their places and the courtiers settled down on the benches below, the Cathedral's enormous choir of four hundred (seated in the wing of the church behind the altar) rose and started to sing the entrance hymn, accompanied by the orchestra. The Archbishop of New Rome, Cardinal Conomos, entered the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator in a procession of altar boys carrying crosses and candlesticks.

The singing and the music were superb; and it should have been. It was explained to Eleanor that the choir (mostly school-age boys) had been selected from all across the Empire. Pantocratoria's best singers had been handpicked and assembled in New Rome. The Mass itself was said in French although most of the singing was in Latin. The Mass took about an hour in all, and included a homily in which Cardinal Conomos acknowledged the fall of General Altman in Upper Virginia, which he called "a great victory for Your Most Catholic Majesty, granted by God in His mercy for the good of all the world, and for the cause of peace." The Te Deum was sung to celebrate the victory, despite the fact that if there had been an end to the fighting, nobody had told the Pantocratorian troops in the Excalbian Isles. The Imperial Family all received communion (and the Emperor whispered to Eleanor that she could stay seated and safely avoid communion without embarassment).

Eleanor smiled at the music, glowing brightly as the choir sang. She nodded slightly to the Emperor's whisper and remained seated as the others received communion. She smiled a little to herself, taking everything in with a keen eye and a reflective mind.

The closing hymn was sung and the Cardinal left the church with his procession. The Imperial Family was next, the Emperor leading them down the steps, where they genuflected again, before proceeding out of the Cathedral of Christ Pantocrator in front of the bowing congregation.

The crowd outside the church was enormous, having grown several times over as word spread about the strange queen. Because of the difficulty of reorganising the procession in the public gaze, cars were waiting for the return trip to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. The first, flying the flags of Pantocratoria and Wintermore on it, waited for the Emperor and Eleanor at the end of the purple carpet. The Varangians struggled to keep the path to the car clear as the curious citizens of New Rome all tried to get a better look at Eleanor. Sir Constantine rushed ahead of the two monarchs and opened the limousine's door for them.

Eleanor walked with the Emperor, genuflecting herself once more. As she followed him out to the car, she smiled to the crowds, raising one hand in a genteel wave. She watched the guards clearing the path curiously as she climbed in after the emperor. "Why thank you, Sir Constantine."

"Well, I'm very sad you can't stay in New Rome longer." the Emperor said as the limousin pulled away and the next one pulled up for the princes and princesses. "And I dare say that New Rome is just as distressed."

Eleanor laughed a little. "I must say, I can't understand why there would be such a huge crowd merely for me. I am sure Pantocratoria has much more impressive visitors on a regular basis."

"You're very modest." the Emperor replied. "New Rome doesn't get many non-human visitors, let alone sidhe queens. I hope you weren't offended by their curiousity. Hopefully next time you visit your people will be a common sight in the city!"

Eleanor laughed. "I doubt we have enough to spare to become too common. The entire world sidhe population is probably only a little more than the population of New Rome."

"Well, Madame, common is one thing you will never be." said the Emperor. "I'm sure you'll light up New Constantinople as you have lit up New Rome."

Eleanor blushed ever so faintly and glanced out the window. "Your Majesty flatters me, I'm sure. I am no Lady Sascha."

"Lady Sascha is no Eleanor of Wintermore." said the Emperor, intending a complement, as the limousine arrived at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

Eleanor colored fiercely, blushing and looking out the window. "Thank you, Andreus of Pantocratoria."