NationStates Jolt Archive

One of Marissa's maids was tightening her corset while another was getting her hair ready. An older woman, Lady Elizabeth, was sitting fully dressed in a chair across from her. She smiled slightly. "His High Majesty asked me to answer any last minute questions you might have about the ceremony while you prepared, Your Ladyship."

Marissa looked at the woman, her expression one of half happiness, half worry. “Oh, that is very kind of Owain.” She moved her head, pulling a little of
her hair as one of the maids was holding a strand. “Ow.” Her movements ceased. “I have so many, and yet I cannot think of anything.”

Lady Elizabeth smiled a little. "Well...most of the ceremony will be in Welsh. I hope someone already thought to tell you that."

“Yes, they did.” Marissa waved away the woman who was dressing her hair, before holding on to something as the other pulled the ties of the corset, jerking her body. “I have asked for a translation so that I might follow what is going on.” She smiled through gritted teeth. “I’m just sorry that I am unable to understand the language for myself. I wish I had time to learn.”

"It's perfectly understandable that you don't." Lady Elizabeth consoled her. "It is not a language commonly used in most countries."

“I just wish I could have done it for Ow…His High Majesty.” Marissa corrected herself, and gave a slight smile, as she woman behind her stopped pulling. “I am really proud of him. I do not know how he is coping so well.” She felt the woman tie the strings. “I think I am in more of a state than him, and I’m not even doing anything today other than watching.”

After her corset was on, the maids began to dress Marissa in a woman's green gown of the houppelande style. Lady ELizabeth shook her head. "It did not grow up expecting the throne but...he is a man of rank, born and trained to accept such responsibilities should they fall to him."

Running her hand over her body, Marissa smiled, wondering how she was going to breath. "He is a very good man. I knew from the moment I met him that he was special."

The maids got her stockings and slippers next. Elizabeth just smiled. "I know, Your Ladyship. I know."

"Shall we go over who will be attending?"

Marissa nodded. "Yes, please."

"Well, all the Princes of the High Kingdom are required to attend, of
course, to swear fealty, as well as all the lords and ladies of Tarana and of the High Court. Every Count and Countess in the High Kingdom and every Duke or Duchess born here or with any claim in this land is invited. Then there is the Prime Minister and the foreign ambassadors."

"I still cannot believe this is happening." Marissa moved over to the mirror, and gazed at her appearance for a moment, before turning back to face Elizabeth. "I still can't get over him not being just a duke anymore."

Lady Elizabeth laughed lightly. "I can imagine."

Marissa frowned. "It's like something out of a dream. One minute he's Owain, and we are planning a simple wedding and the next...all this." She waved her hand around as if she could encompassed everything happening around her.

"You do not wish to me a queen, m'lady?" the old woman asked.

"Oh, no, that is not what I meant." Marissa shook her head slowly and smiled sadly. "I'm...I'm afraid."

“You will be fine." Lady Elizabeth said reassuring. "Your first cousin is an Empress, after all."

Marissa laughed lightly, feeling slightly better. "Yes, she is." She paused. "I just do not want to let him down. I know I'm being foolish. I love him, and I want to be there for him. Whatever happens, I want to be there for him always."

"Not just for him." Elizabeth pointed out. "For your kingdom, as well."

Nodding her head, Marissa moved closer to where her companion was sitting. "Yes, for the kingdom, but mostly for him. To me, he is the kingdom now."

"Well...he is.

" Lady ELizabeth confirmed.

"I remember the day we first met." Marissa smiled to herself, as if she could see him standing there before her.

Lady Elizabeth nodded. "It's about time to be heading down to Court."

Marissa nodded and turned back to the mirror, giving her appearance once last glance. "I'm ready." She gave Elizabeth a smile and indicated for her to lead the way.

The road approaching the Royal Palace contained scattered groups of nobles walking towards it. Princess Marie seemed to be the first ambassador around. There was murmured conversation among the people going in. Most of them were dressed in the houppelande style, though all the styles common in the various Princely and Grand Ducal Courts were present. Marie's eyes might have been drawn by the familiar figures of Prince Aaron's family, in clothing that would fit in perfectly at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator.

Rachel was complaining, not knowing anyone was around. "I can't believe you actually made me wear this, father!"

"Shush." Prince Aaron said curtly.

At this point, a page ran up to the princely family, bowing and handing Prince Aaron a small notice. Aaron read it, balking. "He wants me to wear what? In this heat? At my age?"

"It's straight from His Majesty." the page replied.

Prince Aaron went off grumpily, while Rachel smirked slightly at her father. Many of the other princes were also getting pulled from their parties by similar pages. Princess Marie grinned a little at Aaron's reaction, and waited to be shown to her place.

"Your Highness!" called Princess Maital, Aaron's wife. It took her a moment to realize she could be speaking to any number of people in this crowd. "Princess Helen!" She waved the Pantocratorian over. Princess Sarah grinned to herself. Pantocratorians were so cool.

Princess Marie saw Princess Maital waving and suppressed a cringe when she called her by her elder sister's name. She made her way over to Maital, Rebecca and Sarah, and curtsied.

"Marie, mother." Sarah muttered under her breath as the ambassador approached.

"Your Highnesses, a pleasure to see you." she said, relieved that she had a chance to speak in French to fellow native speakers rather than stumbling through the ugly English tongue.

Maital smiled as the four women returned Marie's courtsey. "Your Highness. I do hope you are doing well."

"I'm doing very well, madame." Marie replied. "I trust you are all in good health?"

"Quite good, Princess Marie." Maital said. "We were actually wondering...Ambassadors in general are simply invited to observe but we were wondering if we might invite you personally to attend with our family."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I understand. I'm flattered of course, but what do you mean?" she asked.

"I mean I'd like you to accompany my daughters and myself to the ceremony and enter with the lords and ladies." Maital explained.

"How were they planning for me to enter?" Marie asked innocuously.

"I would assume with the rest of the diplomatic corps." Princess Maital said.

"It would be my pleasure." Marie smiled. The diplomatic corps was filled with fat, low-born, boorish men, most of whom were also drunks, and in the case of the Knootian ambassador, a drug addict. She'd much rather sit with people of her own calibre, or as close to it as possible at least.

Maital grinned. "Wonderful, then. Shall we?"

"After you, madame." Marie nodded deferentially.

Maital started on towards the palace. Her daughters followed, Sarah falling into step next to Marie. Marie smiled at Sarah.

"Mademoiselle." she nodded in a friendly fashion.

Sarah nodded back, grinning. "I can't even remember High Queen Agwene's coronation. I was..."

"Still a babe." Maital interjected. "You actually got a little upset and I had to have you discretely snuck out to your nurse."

Marie grinned at the exchange, biting her lower lip gently as the women of her house seemed prone to do. Eventually, they made their way into the palace. Rachel was summoned off, as Aaron had been. They were directed into a large room where all the adult noblewomen attending had gathered. Every Grand Duchy and Principality was represented by its rulers and a few ranking nobles, but the overwhelming majority seemed to be lords and ladies of Tarana. As they entered the herald announced them in turn. "Her Imperial Highness, Princess Marie!"

"Her Most Esteemed Highness, Princess Maital!"

"Their Highnesses, the Princesses Sarah and Rebecca!"

Lady Marissa was taken to the front of the room where the noblewomen were gathering, to stand with Grand Duchesses Gwendolyn and Morgan. Gwendolyn, her petite, lovely face smiling enthustiastically, took one of Marissa's hands in both of hers. "It is wonderful to finally meet you, Your Ladyship. I very much look forward to becoming your sister."

Morgan grinned crookedly. "I'm glad our royal brother found someone who makes him happy."

Behind the three, who were set to lead the procession, a young woman from the Office of the Royal Herald was deferentially but insistently guiding the noblewomen into the correct order of precedence for a procession. Among the hereditary noblewomen were also a few ranking ladies of the clergy, from denominations where women were allowed such positions and which were the established Church in at least one Danaan state. Princess Marie, a princess here as the guest of other princesses, was quite near the front. "Are you looking forward to your cousin's wedding?" Rebecca asked her, making small talk as they waited.

Duke Henri, a Pantocratorian noble invited for his wife's sake, the same wife who had just been guided off to join the other noblewomen, was led into a similar room where a smaller crowd of noblemen was being similarly arranged. Naturally, the lords spiritual made up a much larger portion of this assembly, including Archbishop Garber and a number of other important members of the Catholic hierarchy in the Resurgent Dream. The man from the herald's office was having a fairly easy time of it. Henri found himself closer to the front than Marie had, despite being of loyal rank. Many of the high ranking Danaan men seemed not to be here. There were only two royals, Princes Cesare and Prince Phan, who stood together at the head of the procession.

Meanwhile, the diplomatic corps was already been showing into the throne room, each ambassador announced by the herald as he entered. The room was mostly empty when the came in, the long, light-filled marble hall giving an impression of openness, light, and simplicity while at the same time projecting grandeur through its size and through the shimmering, flawless white marble from which it was carved. At the end of room sat the currently empty Gryffon Throne, hewn from the same marble with the heads of the noble beasts carved elegantly into the arms.

Lady Marissa stood with the Grand Duchesses Gwendolyn and Morgan, feeling relieved to at least be familiar with the two women before her, if not through actual contact, then through the times that Owain had spent taking about his sister. Her fingers closed slightly around one of Gwendolyn’s hands, as she gave her a smile, which managed to cover most of her nervousness.

“It is a pleasure to meet you too, Gwendolyn, Morgan.” She addressed both of the young women. “Your bother has told me so much about you.” As she spoke, she met each of the girls’ gave, before letting her eyes wander around the gathering throng, feeling once more slightly overwhelmed by the occasion.

It was not that she was not used to affairs of state or formal royal occasions, she was the first cousin of the Empress of Tartarus, and was herself in the line of succession. But this was different, not only was she getting married the following day, which in itself was nerve racking enough, but the thought that once she the ceremony was over she would be not only Owain’s wife but also his queen adding to her nervousness.

She looked back at Gwendolyn, wondering how she was feeling. She too was getting married the next day, in a ceremony before her own. This thought made her feel even closer to her, knowing that their days were not dissimilar, and that she was not the only one who was going through a huge change in her life.

Falling silent, she once more looked about her, silently hoping not to do anything that would embarrass her or Owain. She gave the young woman’s hand a squeeze and smiled.

Duke Slavosonov, the Grand Ducal Ambassador to the Danaan High Kingdom, entered the throne room alone, having left his adjutant in company of some Palace staff and of the box containing the Grand Duchy’s gift to the new High King. Ancestral Taraskovyan laws dictated that when invited, one should always bring a gift to the host, and Colonel Slavosonov made no exception to the rule.

He surveyed the other ambassadors already present in the room, greeting each of them as appropriate, before concentrating his gaze elsewhere, plunged into thoughts. He was one of the officers that had to flee Tarasovka when the Ruling Council came to power, because emigrating was better than ending up ‘committing suicide’ or whatever the Kaskad could come up with. It was without surprise that the Grand Duchess by Right Vethara named him as her official representative to the Resurgent Dream after that nation chose to recognize her government and void relations with the ‘Federation’.

Yet, the Grand Duchy was restored as the former Grand Duke returned to power. But his sister, reluctant to believe that her brother could just return from the dead, or deep coma as the official sources named it, did not dismantle her Government. And so, at least one nation was still dealing with the Grand Duchy of Vethara while the rest of the world was dealing with the Grand Duchy of Mikhail. To make the situation even more interesting, Ambassador Slavosonov had already been approached by a representative of Grand Duke Mikhail the Second to serve as the official Ambassador of the Grand Duchy of Tarasovka (the widely accepted one) once it was accepted by the Danaan High Kingdom. Quite a diplomatic riddle that could either frustrate or make people laugh, depending from which angle it was approached.

However, there was a hope that the diplomatic puddle would be resolved quite soon indeed, for both Vethara and Mikhail were coming to the event…

"I've never met the groom." Princess Marie replied to Rebecca's question about whether she was looking forward to seeing her cousin's wedding, in a tone which almost sounded like she disapproved or was offended about it somehow.

"His Most Esteemed Highness will be here tonight." Maital answered calmly.

"I think Her Highness is too young to marry. How old is His Most Esteemed Highness anyway?" Marie asked.

"Twenty-three." Sarah said with a slight smile.

"In my mother's day, people used to marry much younger than that, at least at Court." Maital commented. It was, incidentally, clear that she was very much younger than her husband, at least a decade.

"Her Highness is only seventeen." Marie said.

"This is really bothering you?" Sarah asked, somewhat surprised.

"No..." Marie said. "She's just very young, and she went through a very traumatic event quite recently. I'm worried that she might be too young, and worse, that it mightn't be very healthy to marry the man who rescued her."

Maital nodded a little, deciding a change of subject might be best. "I wonder where they took Princess Rachel? All they gave us beforehand about the ceremony were the translations of what would be said."

Marie, of course, had no idea what had become of Princess Rachel, and so instead of saying anything, she just smiled silently, while taking note of those who had been placed in front of her in line. The four of them were standing behind the two grand duchesses and His High Majesty's fiance. Of course, as she was the guest of the Selinian princely family, her position reflected how they were received at Court more than how the Danaans regarded Marie's own status.

"Is Mademoiselle la Princesse Rachel, participating in the ceremony in some other capacity perhaps, madame?" Marie asked Maital.

"Perhaps. It can't require much preparation on her part, however. She wouldn't neglect to tell me of such a thing." Maital said as she turned slightly, surveying the people behind her. "Princess Hermine is absent as well."

"Perhaps the ladies who would otherwise be with Princess Hermine know where she is, which might be the same place as Princess Rachel?" Marie suggested.

Maital nodded. "That is what I was thinking." she said, thurning to Princess Christina, who was near the front of the overall line but rather near the back of the cluster of royalty at its front. "Madame, do you know where our daughters are?"

Christina smiled lightly. "They're doing something special with the young girls. Do you know where our husbands are, madame?"

Maital laughed lightly. "I have some idea."

And then she turned back to Marie.

"I'm glad somebody found that exchange enlightening." Marie observed, not really having learned anything from the conversation.

"They're doing something with the youngest ladies, probably something symbolizing innocence or purity." Maital commented. "I'm not sure what. Perhaps they will present His Majesty with a bouquet?"

"Ah, I see." Marie nodded. "How old is mademoiselle, if I may ask, madame?"

"Princess Rachel will be fifteen next month."

"Really?" Marie asked, surprised. "I had mistaken her for at least two years older than that."

"She is mature for her age in some ways." Princess Maital mentioned. "At least by today's standards. Of course, when I was her age, I was managing a household."

Why do old people always pretend like things were so much tougher for them when they were young? Marie wondered to herself as she smiled back at Maital and nodded.

"Well, I'm sure we'll find out exactly what she's doing in the ceremony in good time." Marie observed.

That has to be uncomfortable, Lisa Scarlet thought, considering the throne at the end of the hall. Marble wasn't the most comfortable thing to sit in the entire day, certainly. Maybe that was why nobles were always so uptight -- because they had to spend their day on hard stone. Unless they propped up a pillow or two, or three, or maybe they didn't use the throne at all for daily business, which meant this entire place was just an insane amount of money spent to intimidate others. Quite silly, Weyr's ambassador to the Resurgent Dream thought, in the modern age. Certainly it was pretty, but the Grand Hall of the Tower of Twilight back home was bigger, and actually intimidated people though more than size, and was useful for daily business, having been built with practical matters in mind. Lisa Scarlet had learned to not hold it against others that they did silly, or impractical, or wasteful things.

Adish de-Vere-Frost, the Ambassador of the Elenaran to The Resurgent Dream, sighed into a headset, listening to his parents. Worse than simply being instructed by one’s superiors was being micromanaged by one’s parents. “Of course, sir,” he said, having half a mind to say ‘Sire’ instead, it was, infuriatingly, literally true. “I will pay especial attention to that, yes.”

The man on the other end, the ‘supreme director’ of the Imperial Security Agency, one Paul de-Vere, seemed not at all flustered, and continued to read down the list of things he expected the Ambassador to be aware of during the coronation. “Sir,” he said as he at last arrived at the Danaan Court, “I really should go now,” without waiting, he tapped the side of the slender earpiece, and took it off, pocketing it.

Looking around, he considered that he must still stand out in this crowd, dressed as he was in light azure and cyan robes in the Menelmacari style with chartreuse and gold trim. That said, he was at least able to carry such an outfit, thanks in no small part to both slightly Persian looks inherited from his mother and relentless ‘encouragement’ towards physical activity from his father during his youth. Even though both could be artificially duplicated with little expense, he also had a suave confidence that came with that upbringing. He’d managed, at least, to stop wincing at the corsets the local ladies wore, but he was still glad he could pull off what passed for the dress of nobles – barring expense, there was little true difference, - in his country with comfort.

Joining the various other diplomats, he spared a moment as he was announced - with grating formality, as ‘Lord Ambassador Adish de-Vere-Frost of the Necrontyr Empire,’ he could see why the title was advantageous in his work, but he often found the formality at these events a little oppressive, though sometimes, just sometimes, he revelled in it - to glance around for the Pantocratorian Ambassador. He frowned slightly, as she was not apparently present, and decided to engage his time by doing as his father had suggested, and observing the other ambassadors.

Tarelis Tarsartír nós Fëanor, Etarosi Ambassador to The Resurgent Dream, stepped into the Hall in a state of slight awe. He paused gracefully as his title and name was announced, and then continued forward. The sweeping, deep navy robes that sparkled magically trimmed with a thin line of blazing white fit the Ambassador well. His long, flowing brown hair was fixed in a way that implied masculinity but offered a touch of sensitivity and grace, and outfitted with a small, hewn string "crown" with a white diamond resting on the forehead. Piercing blue eyes observed the others in the long and great Hall, and he took note of the other ambassadors. They appeared fairly quiet and patient, as he intended to be.

Stepping forth to take a seat, he looked at the throne. Magnificent, to say the least, though he had seen more extravagant seats of power in his travels. He deeply admired the way the Hall was designed, and took note of its apparent ancient revelry. He touched the marble with soft, thin fingers, and also admired its crafty construction. Tarelis was an elf that desired the tangible, and loved architecture above all else. The Erumna, or Princess, Ëarwen Eledhwen nós Fëanor, would be told with excitement of its intricacy. She and her assistant were milling about in the palace, having already offered a gift to the Sovereign.

After examining the marble and other specialties of the Hall, Tarelis sat and observed deeply the other ambassadors, their dress, and customs. He himself looked very mysterious and quiet, and also had an air of elegance about him that was not intimidating, but rather refreshing.

Jared Stych considers his wardrobe carefully as he packs his bags. His orders are to attend the coronation and mingle in search of opportunities to establish relations with a potentially friendly nation. He might be there as long as a day or a year, depending on how things go. He expects closer to the former than the latter; he had read the briefing regarding the Emperor's initial meeting with one of their royalty, and he understands that there might be...tensions to overcome. The Emperor is rumoured to be a highly unpleasant man when stressed.

He decides on a more informal set of clothes in addition to his standard silver-on-black suit. Something festive, with bright colours. Polo shirt and slacks. Casual shorts and a t-shirt. His exercise clothes are, of course, a given. Some semi-formals for meetings that don't require him to act in an official capacity. And shoes. Comfortable shoes are a must, especially during the flight.

Attention to detail is a hallmark of a successful diplomat. He can practically quote the text in his sleep. Jared is very good at his job. He has to be, to be given the job of establishing talks with reputedly magical folk. He feels the pride welling up inside and quells it with a mental reminder that he hasn't accomplished his mission yet. The time for celebrating is after, not before.

He picks up a pair of shoes and frowns at the scuff mark on the left. He'll have to have that taken care of before his shuttle leaves tomorrow. There's still a lot of preparation to do.

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v311/SpaceGhoti/Treznor/JaredStych.jpg

A young woman, the very same who had been herding the ladies into place, slipped out of a door in the side of the throne room. Another herald, this one male, slipped out of another door. From a door at the far end of the hall a procession entered. It was all the young ladies, led by the six-year old Princess Hermine, smiling adorable with her light blue eyes sparkling. They had all changed from what they had been wearing into loose white gowns, pure and simple in their effect. Each girl carried a small white bag as they split into two groups, one going to stand near the woman herald and one near the male.

The male herald then proclaimed "The lords, spiritual and temporal, of the Resurgent Dream!" At this, the doors were thrown open and the procession of noblemen marched into the room, spreading along the right wall to stand and watch the rest of the ceremony. Their daughters and younger sisters threw flower petals around and before them as they walked.

The lady herald cried out "The ladies, temporal and spiritual, of the Resurgent Dream!" The ladies glided out to a similar greeting from the girls, arranging themselves along the left wall. At this point, the girls all returned to their mothers and older sisters.

Another herald, this one near the throne, cried out "The people of the Resurgent Dream!" Of course, not all the people came in or even a sample as representative as that of the nobility. Prime Minister Minerva Karamanlis stepped through the door, resplendent in a formal, though modern, gown of flowing green and gold. Some of the nobles who were also members of Parliamentarians of the Liberal Party smiled at the woman who was, at least in affairs of state, their leader. Nationalists, on the other hand, made a point of adopting an attitude more haughty than that adopted towards most commoners, pointedly ignoring her entrance and the herald's words. The same man then announced "His Emminence, Archbishop Laurens Verhagen!" The elderly man stepped from the door on the other side of the throne from Karamanlis.

The herald near the main entrance then proclaimed "The Knights of the Cup!" The men who entered were resplendent in formal army which looked far hotter and heavier than that normally used for battle, certainly far hotter and heavier than what any man could comfortably wear. The metal nonetheless gleamed in the light, grand, extravagent metal-work, finely formed so as to display an intricate series of formal markings, telling all sorts of things about the wearer. While all the men were helmeted, one knowledgeable in Danaan heraldry could pick out all of the missing princes as well as the Lord Champion, several dukes and counts, and even one duchess. The armored knights formed two rows flanking the door, drew their swords, and extended their arms and blades in salute so as to form a "V" like passageway for the High King to walk through. Owain then entered, in armor far more grand and far heavier than theirs, though he wore no helmet. He smiled a handsome smile as he strode through his knights towards the throne.
...
Her Highness, Princess Ëarwen had been granted some of the finest guest quarters available, although the staff had expressed some surprise that she had arrived so early. She was served and treated according to her station and had the freedom of the court excepting the personal chambers of others and the Throne Room during the coronation ceremony.

OOC: Oops? I thought I was supposed to send everyone at once, but only the ambassadors attended the Coronation. Sorry. :(

IC:

Tarelis watched as the procession went by, thoroughly impressed by the armor and dress of those in the Danaan Court. He smiled as they went forth to the throne, and was exceedingly in awe (though his face did not show it much) at Owain. He also liked the way the name was said; as if it were not only a person, but a revered god. The people of the nation were represented by the Prime Minister, which he found odd, as Etaros had only toyed with democracy in the past. In his experience, the Erasito was not only the representative of the nation, but also the people, as it was his responsibility not only to lead, but to keep those under him happy and lively.

The elf continued watching the procession and ceremony, anticipating the climax. It was his understanding that this ceremony might be in Welsh, and he was thankful of his extraordinary skill in that language at this time.

He had finally recognized that he was seated next to the C'tani ambassador, and meant to speak to him after the coronation was over. Very discreetly as the music was sounding, he slipped a note by and put it on the C'tani's lap. It read (in English),

I notice you are of the Necrontyr Empire. I am of the Erasat. I was wondering if you'd like to chat later?

With the other envoys stood Ulrica von Festeburg, Ambassador to the Court of Tarana, her hair piled in elaborate braids around her head, a slightly off shoulder gown sweeping in a smooth light blue bell from her waist to the floor. Elbow length gloves graced her supple arms, and she was smiling slightly, observing the courtly rituals of the Danaan Kingdom, which were always strange and strikingly impressive. As the ladies and then the lords began to troop in her eyes danced merrily at this spectacle. She felt she was certainly the most fortunate of ambassadors, to be in a kingdom that was truly magical.

Sir Adam Taurins, His Imperial Majesty’s Ambassador to the Court of the Danaan High Kingdom, stood with the other members of the diplomatic corps watching the entrance of the new High King. Sir Adam had served his Empire in the Resurgent Dream already for many years. He had seen the High Kingdom through it emergence in the modern from a land of carts and horses to one boasting all the modern and postmodern conveniences.

Sadly, Sir Adam had also seen what he feared would be the Kingdom’s twilight with the passing of so many its fae and so many of its leaders. Yet, the Danaans had persevered. And now, not only was there a new High King, but soon, there would be an unexpected royal wedding – one that would cement the close relations that had developed between the High Kingdom and the Holy Empire.

Sir Adam straightened his formal, naval style uniform and looked admiringly at the High King. He seemed a good man, and indeed he would need to be, for he had many a difficult task ahead of him. Yet, he accepted his new role with equanimity and dignity.

Yet, the ambassador’s thoughts could not remain fixed on the events before. The entire Imperial family would be arriving shortly for the wedding – or more accurately weddings – and his embassy would be exceedingly busy.

Following her two future sister-in-laws as they entered the main chamber, Lady Marissa got her first view of her surrounding, her eyes flicking around, taking in as much as she could. She was proud to be witness to such an event, pleased to be able to support Owain as he took this huge step in his life. She smiled, as she took her place, with all the other nobles of the land and those friends of others who would become a part of the coronation.

She watched as the young girls led the groups into place and then found their respective families. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the spot where Owain would be made high king. She could not stop her heart beating loudly with pride, and this only grew when the final group join the room, followed by Owain. Her eyes once they found him, travelled upon him as he took the first step towards his coronation.

He looks more handsome than ever, she thought to herself with a secret smile, her eyes, if he could see them, revealed her love for him.

The oath was long and in Welsh. Owain swore to defend the laws, to rule justly, to practice wisdom and mercy. His role in the government of the land was affirmed by the Archbishop and his right to the Crown was established. Finally, he placed it upon his head and sat in his throne. The herald announced "I present to you, for the first time, His Most Esteemed High Majesty, Owain ap Cunedda, High King of the Resurgent Dream, Grand Duke of Tarana, Duke of Tasat, Sword of the Weak, Shield of the Vulnerable, Defender of the Laws, and Champion of the Peace!"

The hall erupted into cries of "Long live the king!" Once the cries had died down, Owain began accepting the oaths of his nobles. Each swore fealty and received Owain's oath to deal justly with them in return. Each received a token from the High King of some kind, usually something especially appropriate to the individual. The ritual started with Grand Duchess Gwendolyn and continued down to the barons and knights of Owain's court. After several hours of this, Owain stood after the last knight had been sword. "We thank you for attending." he said simply. He then walked to Marissa, still in his full formal armor. "If the lady would join us...?"

The ceremony, though it had been in Welsh, had been relatively easy to follow. Marissa still wished that she could have understood what had been said, rather than having to rely on a translation. Once everything had settled down, she would make it one of her first tasks to learn the language that her future husband and king spoke.

Her heart swelled as the room erupted with ‘Long live the king’, her smile brightening her face as she looked at Owain as he was proclaimed High King. Like the rest of the diplomats that had attended, she had stood watching as each of the nobles present had approached Owain, her eyes flicking around every now and then to see the reactions of those around her.

Dropping into a low curtsey as Owain approached, Marissa looked into his eyes as she rose and smiled. “I would be honoured, Your Majesty.” Her gaze briefly moved over his body, still unused to seeing him so formally dressed, until she once more found his eyes. “That was beautiful,” she whispered for his ears only.

The flight to the Resurgent Dream was proving to be quite uneventful as Vethara peered through the window of her aircraft. It was not her first visit to the country already, yet she looked forward to it being more joyful than the last of her comings to the Danaan High Kingdom. She looked forward to the parties and to the weddings, yet there was already one thing that she dreaded…
“Your brother has announced his intention to come, Your Highness.” She could hear the High Coordinator say as he sipped on his cognac, his voice as calm as ever. Her heart was beating furiously at the idea of meeting the man that called himself Grand Duke.

“Not only does he call himself Grand Duke, but the People call him that, too.” Uttered the High Coordinator as he looked at Vethara with a curious look. The Archduchess looked back, frowning.

“I guess I shall see once I meet him.”

“So you are going to meet him?”

Vethara sighed and nibbled on her lower lip for a moment before shrugging. “If he really is my brother, I am sure he will find the time to invite me for a dance.”

The High Coordinator chuckled and shook his head as the young Archduchess returned her eyes to the window.

***

“Well, my dear Alexei, you must consider yourself lucky,” Duke Khaor Nakhart said as he rested his empty goblet on the table near the bottle of wine. “You do not have such a rich arrangement of political parties eager to get at each other’s throat over in the Senate.”

Duke Vereslavskiy, Speaker of the Grand Ducal Senate, chuckled and shook his head. “Well, you should have run for Senator as well. Wouldn’t have ended up as the speaker of Duma.”

“Maybe, but then again, at least I cannot say I am all that bored during debates.”

The aircraft shifted slightly as it turned to the side, setting upon a new air corridor that would take it to the Resurgent Dream. The Grand Duke, who sat by the same table as the two Speakers, did not speak as he looked out through the window, pensively. He turned his head to look at the two men, as if trying to figure out whether it was a good idea to bring them along or not. But then again, he did not feel like debarking with an army composed of the Orlov and Tal-Nash Houses. So the representatives of the Parliament were sufficient. Besides, not that the Speakers and the Grand Duke made so many joint visits together, so that should make the representatives of the People and Fiefdoms happy.

“I’ve heard Strogoverov was stirring controversy again.”

“Indeed, he is,” Duke Nakhart nodded. “He has been calling for Your Highness to convert to Orthodoxy or… euh… face consequences.”

“Nothing new. I do wonder why didn’t the White Legion support my dear sister then when they had the chance.”

“Well, she is not entirely Slavic and they hate Taraskath.”

The men laughed as the Grand Duke shook his head. “Ah… my dear little sister. She will be attending the same event as we are. Goes without saying that you are to treat her as a Taraskovyan Archduchess, not less, not more. And I shall make certain that she returns to the Grand Duchy as such.”

The two Speakers nodded silently before returning to discussing various events concerning the Grand Ducal Parliament. The Grand Duke just looked out of the window without saying anything as his gaze was fixed in the distance.

"You're beautiful." Owain whispered back. Then he spoke louder. "Walk with me." He escorted Marissa out into the hall, walking to the Palace balcony overlooking Timon Square. The hallways were lined with Royal Guard in full dress uniform. He left Marissa at the door to the balcony and walked out in view of the large crowd of people that had gathered there. He raised his sword dramatically, crying out "Fiat justitia!"

The crowd answered with a roar. "Pereat mundus!" It was almost certain none of them really meant it literally, but the sentiment of staunch commitment to moral righteousness was deeply believed.
...
Meanwhile, back in the ballroom, the nobles and diplomats were free to mix with one another or to leave if they saw fit. For the most part, the nobility gossipped among themselves, talking about courtly affairs and subtly manuevering for position with one another. The men in the formal armor left swiftly, going to change. Prime Minister Karamanlis, after chatting briefly with a few noblemen and women involved in the labor party, made her way towards the diplomatic corps, not seeming to head for anyone else yet, waiting to see who approached her.
...
Of course, those actually invited to the Coronation were hardly the only ones watching it. The event was being recorded live by entirely unobtrusive cameras. There were at least three places it was being watched in the palace itself. A Banquet Hall in the East Wing had been set aside for ladies and gentlemen not quite of sufficient rank to attend the Coronation itself but who were attached to some court or another and were attending a wedding tomorrow. As they dined, the gentry and lower nobility there were provided with a screen on the wall showing the ceremony. The staff serving these men were also allowed a small television in the kitchen, a luxury not normally afforded while on the clock. Those of the servants not on duty were gathered in the recreation hall in the servants' wing, watching the ceremony on a screen there. At the Llewellyn Hotel, the most opulent in Tarana, movie stars, athletic champions, powerful financiers, and captains of industry played games of status far more fluid and far less formal but no less intricate than those of the aristocrats in the Throne Room, even as they danced and watched the coronation on a large screen taking up one entire end of the events hall. A truly gigantic screen played the event for the great crowd gathered for an open air coronation celebration in the newly opened Agwene ni Gwydion Royal Park. And, of course, the event was watched in hundreds of millions of ordinary Danaan living rooms. Some of the ordinary families watching the television had different views of the role of the High King than those at the coronation. Danaan mothers would point past Owain at Karamanlis and say to their young children "There's Min. She's our country's leader." Still, everywhere the cry was the same. "Long live the King!"

Princess Marie departed the company of the Selinian princesses of House Beaumayn, thanking them for inviting her to accompany them to the coronation. She went about mingling with the other nobles in the ballroom, hoping to find some familiar faces from the High Court at Tarana. She spotted the Ambassador of the Ctan, Adish de-Vere-Frost, through the crowd, and slowly worked her way through the room towards him.

Watching from the door of the balcony, Marissa smiled as she listened to the cheers of the crowds as they welcomed their new king. She felt a shiver rush over her body, as her pride and love in the man before her grew. Keeping out of sight, but being able to see at the same time, she felt the euphoria that such occasions brought. She could remember her cousin’s coronation and should still see all the celebrating that had gone on. Of course, today was hard on the people, having followed the loss of several of the more exotic species that dwelt in The Resurgent Dream.

She moved a little from the door, but remaining within sight, so that she would see Owain re-enter the room, she let her gaze wander over the others in the room, barely being able to concentrate on too much at the moment, what with the excitement of the day and the nervousness for the next. Her gaze moving slowly about her surroundings.

* * * * *

Helena Frewin followed the rest of the delegates as they moved about the room, meeting and greeting others. The new King had been whisked away and would likely appear later to allow others to congratulate him. Wandering around, she looked for familiar faces, which was not easy considering she had not had the privilege of meeting anyone here before.

She spotted the Prime Minister, and nodded her head slightly in greeting from across the room, as she continued to wander though the throng of people.

* * * * *

“Official escort?” Lord Stratton stared at Gehenna briefly, hardly able to take in what he was hearing.

The Empress met his gaze and smiled. “Yes. It is as much a family affair as it is a formal affair, and I asked if he would like to attend and he said he would.” She moved over to a chair and settled into one. “I see no reason why he should not attend.”

Val walked over to the chair opposite and lowered himself into it. He looked at his cousin again, his mouth opening and closing several times before he spoke. “Is this not a very high profile event for you to be bringing out Lord Daniels?”

“If I did not know better, Val, I would assume you were trying to put me off.” Gehenna frowned, her voice conveying a hint of annoyance. “He is a very good friend of mine, and I asked him to attend as my escort. If people want to read more into that they are more than welcome to.”

His Lordship shook his head and grinned. “You know that Damien is going to go mad when he finds out.”

“It is fortunate that I am the Empress and he is just my heir, is it not?” She met his grin with a warm smile of her own, that had a touch of mischief reflected in her eyes. “To be honest, no one will think it unusual. He has appeared at several official events before.”

“But you control the media here, Gehenna,” Val replied.

Gehenna laughed lightly. “We are going into a country which has just had a new king crowned, and is going to have three royal marriages, one of which is the new king’s. Who is going to be interested in anything else?” She suddenly became serious. “And if I am honest with you, Val, I really am passed caring about people knowing that I love Lord Daniels.”

Nodding his head, Val gave her a wink. “And about time too.”

“I hope he is going to get here in time, he does have a habit of becoming distracted.” She frowned, hoping that some catastrophe would not keep him from attending, or being late for that matter. The last thing she wanted was him appearing out of thin air at the last minute and freaking everyone out. “I had better prepare for our departure. Can you make sure that someone remembers to include the wedding gift in our luggage?”

“Consider it done.”

* * * * *

The rest of Marissa’s family had arrived when she did in The Resurgent Dream, and they say milling around in their accommodation. The Duchess of Lorm was wandering around in front of the television as the Coronation was broadcast live. Her beaming smile highlighted her face as Owain was crowned and proclaimed king.

“He is such a pleasant young man.” She turned to her other daughter, Elizabeth who was sitting on the couch, staring at each of the people on the screen admiring their clothing or moaning about how bad they looked. Both women had almost cheered with happiness as they saw Marissa on the television with the other nobles.

Elizabeth laughed lightly. “I still cannot believe she’s going to be marrying a King tomorrow.” She looked over at her mother. “And to think, she was keen on Lord Hardcastle and could have been marrying him now instead.”

“Issi never really liked Lord Hardcastle. She was just waiting for the right man to come along. I’m so pleased he listened to my advice.” The Duchess stopped suddenly, realising what she had said.

The young woman got to her feet and looked at the Duchess. “Mother? What did you do?”

“Nothing.” Lady Lavinia chuckled. “I just told him to not show any interest in your sister.”

“How did you know he was interested?”

“That’s a mother’s secret, my dear.” The Duchess gently tapped the side of her nose and smiled. “I wonder where your father and brother are. I thought they wanted to see the Coronation.”

“Papa and Hugo will be back soon. They are probably wandering around enjoying the atmosphere.” Elizabeth climbed back into her chair, and hugged her legs in front of her as she continued to watch the proceedings. “They will make a very handsome couple, won’t they?”

Lady Lavinia smiled. “Yes, they will.”


[ooc: just a brief introduction to my characters to announce who is attending]

Adish, for his part, had found the actual ceremony most entrancing, he’d never actually seen such an event in person before, and the only instance his memory recalled that exceeded the event in opulence, splendour and overdressed courtiers was the recent marriage of the Elenaran. Nevertheless, he found time to wonder, as the ceremony continued, if they were planning to have every last knight in the kingdom show up. He was having difficulty remembering his impressions he had of the earlier dignitaries.

It came as rather a relief when the ceremony finally ended, and he managed to get to his feet again, working his toes inside his boots. While he had long been inured to the dubious art of listening to other people’s conversations, he was hardly a spy by nature, another strike against genetic determinism, and as fortune had it, and he found himself in the presence of the Pantocratorian Ambassador.

He bowed deeply, rather relieved to have an opportunity for actual companionship and perhaps, though knowing Pantocratorian etiquette, he did humorously consider the word should not be used within five miles of their nobility, relaxation. “Ah, good evening Your Imperial Highness,” he said with a smile, straightening up a little, “I consider myself honoured by your presence Mademoiselle la Princesse.” His pronunciation of the last French word was slightly inaccurate, he had, after all, only a passing familiarity with the language, but he was confident in it passing muster for this at least.

Tarana, Danaan High Kingdom of the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam Taurins spotted Minerva Karamanlis, the new prime minister, and made his way towards her. He approached and bowed deeply.

“Your Excellency,” he said with a smile, “a glorious day for the High Kingdom. And for your government. You, and your people, should be commended with the way you have weathered this crisis.” The ambassador seemed to shiver slightly. “I shudder to think of what it would take for the Holy Empire to recover from a similar catastrophe!” The ambassador took a breath and let his smile return. “Yet, today certainly marks a return to normalcy.”

Aboard Excalbia One...

As the blue and gold 777 streaked its way towards the Resurgent Dream, Prince Peter sat in one of the family compartments trying to look calm as he pretended to read a book. His cousin, Prince Joseph, entered and grinned slightly.

“Pretending to read is a little out of character for your, isn’t it, Peter?”

Peter looked up at his cousin and blushed. He closed the book and motioned for Joseph to sit. If not for a tragic accident, the cousins’ stations would have been reversed and Peter would be the heir to the throne, rather than the heir’s cousin. Yet, he bore no grudge towards Joseph. In fact, he rather admired his cousin’s earnestness and sincerity. Even if he was a little dull.

“How is Anna?”

“She’s well. Resting.” Joseph nodded towards his cousin. “How are you feeling? Any second thoughts?”

Peter’s mind briefly – and involuntarily – flashed to Helen and Vicotira. His eyes seemed to sink slightly and his head drooped slightly, but he shook his head. “No.”

He sighed, then smiled. “This feels right. Didn’t it feel that way with you and Anna?”

Joseph nodded. “Yes.”

“But,” Peter’s smile faded a little, “then, why am I nervous, Joseph?”

“It’s only natural. So was I, Peter. Everyone is. I think.” Joseph smiled. “In my case, I was afraid of screwing up. It was Pantocratoria, after all.” Joseph leaned forward and lowered his voice. “I love Anna’ family and have grown fond of Pantocratoria. But they have so much protocol.” Joseph chuckled. “Frankly, I was a little afraid of them. And of screwing up one of their rules. I thought I might burp at the wrong moment, insult the Emperor and throw the whole thing out the window!”

Peter bit his lip. “Well, I suspect that I needn’t be afraid of that in the High Kingdom. But I guess I am a little afraid of making a fool of myself…”

“Come now,” Joseph patted his cousin on the back. “When have you ever done that?” Joseph paused for just a beat. “Except for that time…”

Peter gave the heir to the throne a swift punch in the arm.

Karamanlis returned Frewin's nod before she encountered the Excalbian ambassador. Then she offered her hand to Sir Adam with a smile. "It is a return to normality. There are still emotional scars, as well as a population shortage and significant economic problems left over from the disaster. We can't deny that. However, we are working on emergency legislation to rectify both problems. I'm hoping things can truly be back to business as usual within a year or two." She smiled a little. "In any event, it is good to meet you, Sir Adam."
...
Frewin soon found herself in a small cluster of nobles. A man who had been introduced as Lord Yitzhak was telling a humorous story of Arthurian days. "In those days, the giant Ritto was a terror to all the Britons. The greatest of their kings and knights rode forth against him but their might was of no avail against the giant's great strength. Ritto, to sow fear throughout the land, made a cloak of the beards from the kings he had slain. Then he sent word to Arthur, the High King in Camelot, saying 'I am Ritto the Giant. My cloak is made of the beards of kings and I would add yours.' Arthur could never let such a challenge slide. He rode forth and did battle with the giant, slaying Ritto with Excalibur and lopping his head from his shoulders. The bard with Arthur, none less than Taliesin himself, proclaimed his intent to make the great deed known far and wide. Arthur looked at him and shook his head. 'My good sir' said the King of the Britons 'I am a knight, a king, and, moreover, a gentleman. It is hardly to my honor to have slain a barber.'"
...
Owain returned to Marissa's side from the balcony. "Come, lady. Most of the dignitaries, including your Imperial cousin, will be arriving tonight and we must receive them in a room that's been set aside. There's an Elven princess here already that we must see." He smiled adoringly at her. "I need to go change. One of the servants will show you to the room and you can wait for me there." He leaned in and kissed her lightly before walking off. a servant did indeed show Marissa to an elegant but cozy room for receiving guests of the Crown.
...
A woman from the herald's office entered Earwen's chambers, curtseying deeply to the Elven royal. "Your Highness, His High Majesty shall receive you now. If Your Highness would follow me..."
...
Of course, not everyone was entirely enthusiastic. Coronation day brought protests as well, though smaller ones than there would have been if it had not been for the recent disaster. In Wintermore, there was a large peaceful demonstration of republicans. In Bilbtoria, a communist-led demonstration turned violent and had to be dealt with by riot police. In Tarana itself, demonstrators demanded that Tarana be granted its own independent Parliament, like the other Grand Duchy and Principalities, and not be governed by Parliament. The more radical wing of that last protest also demanded Owain abdicate his title of Grand Duke of Tarana and allow it to fall to someone holding no other equal or higher titles, his youngest sister Morgan.

Ambassador Helena Frewin laughed as Lord Yitzhak finished his story, her eyes flicking between those gathered, sharing in their amusement. “Of course, if King Arthur was a woman, he would have had no such challenge set, and he could have remained in his castle enjoying himself.” She smiled, as she juggled the efforts of looking to see who was around while talking to those around her. Part of her job was to know what was going on.

“His Most Esteemed High Majesty’s coronation was most delightful.” Like most Tartarians her knowledge of Welsh was slight, and she like Marissa had followed mostly by way of a translation. “These affairs are so good at uniting everyone and giving a nation something to celebrate.”

* * * * *

Lady Marissa Devenish, having departed from Owain, watched as he walked away before she followed the servant that was given the task of escorting her to the meeting and greeting room. Stepping inside, she gave a small word of thanks to the servant, and made herself comfortable, her eyes wandering around her surroundings. She was a little surprised that he had asked for her to be in attendance, but she smiled, grateful to be able to share many parts of this important day with him.

Fortunately, every man there immediately thought of a witty reply to Ambassador Frewin's comment. Unfortunately, every such reply was a bawdy comment about Guinivere's adultery which they would not repeat in front of a lady. Instead, they looked about in a briefly awkward moment. Soon, the conversation was resumed. This time, the subject was the moralistic, pre-Machiavelli guides on princedom.

Frewin noticed that most of the princes and princesses had left as had most of the episcopacy (and its equivalents). However, a large number of lords and ladies continued to mill about. Most of the snatches of conversation she heard were either related to this or that obscure cultural point or to mundanities. Nothing of much interest seemed to be going on, at least on the surface.
...
Owain soon joined Marissa, dressed in courtly clothing and out of his formal armor. He smiled lightly at her as he entered the room. "Her Highness should be here any moment." he said as he moved to sit in the largest chair in the room. "Feel free to sit, my love."

Watching as many of those in the room seemed to disappear, Helena allowed herself a little time to wander around, her mind turning to events outside of her current location, as she ran through some details concerning the arrival of the Empress and her entourage. Of course, the Embassy had been making arrangements for the event at hand since the announcement was made, but this did not stop her feeling a little on edge, hoping that everything turned out for the best.

She milled around, then stopped and shared trivial conversations with those still in the room, before moving on and mingling. She had not been looking forward to attending such a big event, but it was turning out much better than she had expected.

* * * * *

Dropping into another curtsey as Owain entered, Marissa greeted him with a smile, her eyes sparkling. She waited for him to take his seat, and then made herself comfortable in one that she hoped had not been assigned to someone else. She felt a little out of sorts, not having a definite role, while wondering whether she should be where she was, at least at that moment in time.

She looked over at where he was sitting, and smiled at him, as she waited for the first of the guests to arrive. She hoped that she did not let herself or Owain done.

Ambassador Ssaarg took in the spectacle of the coronation, making mental notes for his report back to the Herpetological Empire. The splendor and pageantry was much more than he was accustomed to, but that is the lot in his life. To travel to foreign lands and be assailed by visual and auditory stimuli.

The pomp and circumstance wasn't as over-powering as other places he had been to, though. So it made post-coronation mingling easier on his senses. With a tall, fluted glass of fine wine in his hands, he steeled himself to make his presentation to the hosts, King Owain and Queen Marissa. He fingered the small, wrapped package in his relatively plain robes, and looked about.

Before departing for The Danaan Kingdom, Aurora had gone to Andreus and shown him an old fashioned huge hat with enormous feathers on it, and said, "Andra, what do you think of me wearing this hat to the weddings?"

Andreus arched an eyebrow and evaluated the hat, taking it in his hands and looking it over.

"I think you're much too pretty for this hat, Aurora." Andreus replied.

"You don't like it?" she asked, her blue eyes dancing merrily for some reason.

"It isn't that I don't like it..." Andreus started, rubbing her shoulder with his hand. "It's that I HATE it."

"But I have a delightful costume to go with it!" Aurora protested. "Let me show you, please?"

"OK, OK." Andreus playfully relented, settling back onto the bed. He teased: "But you have to let me watch you change into it."

"No, no you mayn't!" she exclaimed, dashing into her wardrobe and closing the door behind her.

Andreus shrugged his shoulders and gave a sideways glance to Thirty Camelias.

"It was worth a shot." he said. Thirty Camelias began to lick a paw as if he had not spoken.

After a minute or two Aurora came out, twirling, wearing nothing but the hat, laughing softly, her eyes teasing, and saying, "Are you sure you don't like it? I don't think there would be an outfit like it in the courts of the world..."

Andreus' eyes nearly popped out of his head. Then he smiled broadly and got off the bed and onto his feet.

"Lose the hat and I think it's perfect." he said in a silk smooth voice as he moved across the floor to her.

***

Aurora blushed later, remembering this as their plane carrying the Lavenrunzian imperial family touched down in the Danaan Kingdom and reached out to take Andreus' hand.

"Here we are. I hope that they will become as happy as surely we must." said Aurora softly.

Andreus took her hand and gently squeezed it, before raising it to his lips to kiss.

"Theodora deserves a little happiness." he replied.

The door of their stateroom was knocked on, and Aurora said "Enter." Baron von Bresnvorts, not looking at them, bowing, said, "Majesty, we have landed."

Aurora glanced at Andreus and said, "Shall we, Andra?"

"Let's." Andreus replied with a smile. He leaned in and whispered. "Too bad you're not wearing that other outfit. Nobody could miss your entrance then."

Evidently, he had not forgotten either. With a blush Aurora rose and went to the doorway.

The Erumna was sitting quietly at the desk in the chambers she was provided. A number of official documents were sprawled across it, and her personal assistant for the trip, VERITAS Ambassador Alexi Kasparov, was sitting on the bed with the laptop computer he had brought with him. The son of the former Boris Kasparov would be remaining in the room in the unlikely event that the Erasito or his staff called upon the two, saved especially for emergencies. When the Erumna heard the door, she put down her pen and stood. In front of her was a woman of the Danaan Kingdom curtsying. "Your Highness, His High Majesty shall receive you now. If Your Highness would follow me..."

She nodded with a benevolent smile, her white sparkling dress of special elven material swaying about her. The dark hair she had been born with was long and plain, save for a single braid in the back. Her crown was upon her head, made of the finest Etarosi silver with a touch of rare mithril inlaid with three diamonds. Soft chestnut eyes looked into the world about her with a sense of calm and wisdom. Ëarwen then followed the woman to the King.

Upon entering the room, she walked slowly to the King and bowed respectfully, but keeping eye contact the entire time. "Your High Majesty of the Danaan Kingdom, it is my honor to be in this quaint and beautiful country in the presence of your far-reaching talent and wisdom. I congratulate you on your ascension to the throne, and may your rule be just and fair, and most pleasing to the people of your nation." The Erumna had a certain air of humility about her, but it did not lack a taste of elegance. Always sincere, her humor and anger were used only when appropriate. King Owain would perhaps not perceive this immediately, but after several minutes it was very obvious that Ëarwen had no ulterior motives in anything she did. Her duty was to serve her father and her country, and she performed it with amazing tact and ability.

There are a lot of things Speaker-Rrit doesn't know.

Welsh is one of them. Still, being the professional diplomat, he sits and watches, following along mostly as one would follow an opera--minus the singing and the exaggerated expressions. Either way, it's an effective mental trick that gets him to the coronation, which he also politely observes and generally works not to be obtrusive.

Afterwards, the hosts are of course understandably getting jumped as everyone goes to meet, greet, and congratulate as is only right and proper. Speaker stays surreptitiously but not impolitely out of the way, waiting for the line to dwindle a bit.

A page approached Speaker-Rrit and bowed deeply. "Excuse me, sir..." he said, having been instructed that that term was considered more respectful by Scolpendrans than the honorifics Danaan aristocrats preferred. "The High King wishes to receive you as soon as he is done speaking with the Erumna of Etaros."
...
Owain smiled warmly at the Erumna. He did arch a brow ever so slightly at 'quaint' which seemed an odd choice of words. Still, it was fairly obvious she meant it as a compliment so he took it as such. He took the Elven lady's hand gently and kissed the air directly above it. "It is our honor to receive you, Your Highness." he said with a polite smile. "You are familiar with my betrothed, the Lady Marissa." He gestured to the young woman with one hand. "I am especially glad to have a chance to speak to you. I have heard of a certain degree of concern among the Quendi peoples that our recent tragic change in demographics might have somehow changed our policy. I am happy to assure you in person that nothing could be further from the truth."
...
As a matter of course, the purple carpet was rolled out for Aurora. She, her husband, her family, and their entourages were greeted by a uniformed detachment of the Royal Guard and to an orchestra playing Lavenrunz's national anthem. A general approached Aurora with a bow. "We are, as always, honored at your visit, Your Imperial Majesty. His Most Esteemed High Majesty does intend to receive you personally in short order. In the meantime, we thought you and the Despot might wish to meet His Imperial Highness's future brother in law."
...
A page approached Ssaarg with a deeply respectful bow. As different as the Sakkrans appeared, even compared to the remaining Fae and many of the other non-human races Danaans were familiar with, they were also an object of deep seated respect for their way of life which was, correctly or incorrectly, normally thought of as the epitome of chivalry by Danaans. "Your Excellency, His Majesty will receive you as soon as he is finished with the arriving monarchs. He will, also, of course, receive His Imperial Majesty of Sakkra when he arrives on the morrow."

The approaching page was met with a quzzical eye at first, and then a respectful bow from Ssaarg was done at the receipt of the message. "Oh, yes. Very good, very good. I will await word for when they are ready." When the page turned to leave, Ssaarg cupped his leathery chin.

I wonder if the Emperor got held up in traffic? I know Vubz has been quite tough recently; i hope it doesn't impede him. He shakes his head to dispel the thought, and looks about for something interesting to eyeball, such as a staffmember bearing drinks or snacks.

A page approached Speaker-Rrit and bowed deeply. "Excuse me, sir..." he said, having been instructed that that term was considered more respectful by Scolpendrans than the honorifics Danaan aristocrats preferred. "The High Queen wishes to receive you as soon as he is done speaking with the Erumna of Etaros." The 'Pendran bows shortly to the page in response to his hail. "Thank you. I look forward to speaking with her and will wait here until she is ready." No more is needed, and any less would not convey the message. Typical.

On board the Emperor's 747, en route to the Resurgent Dream, the assorted members of the Imperial Family had been reflecting on Theodora's impending wedding in different ways. The Emperor had been reflecting on his daughter's appalling captivity in Marlund, and hoping that she knew that it was behind her now and that she was ready for this momentous new stage in her life. Zoë had been imagining her sister's perfect, romantic wedding day, and, although she would never admit it, had been fantasising about what Theodora's honeymoon might be like with Brendan. Constantine was rather melancholic, reflecting that he would never be able to marry the person he loved. Jacqueline had been feeling old - it made her realise how long ago her own wedding was when her niece, who wasn't born when she and Basil were married, was herself getting married. Basil's initial enthusiasm had been dampened by reflection upon the fact that both his daughters were older than Theodora and were as yet unwed. And the very thought of Theodora in a wedding dress infuriated Irene, who secretly envied Theodora's apparent happiness with Brendan.

Theodora herself was surprisingly calm and serene. She hadn't cried, nor had she smiled or joked very much for the voyage - instead, she had sat in tranquil near-total silence since take off.

"Papa," she said, finally stirring from her quiet contemplation to look up and across at the Emperor across his stateroom on-board the aircraft. "I'm... I'm going to miss living with you, and Constantine, and Zoë, and..."

"Theodora, we're going to miss you very much." the Emperor replied warmly. "But you'll be able to talk to us as much as you like, and see us whenever you like. You'll always be with us, and we will always be with you."

"I know..." Theodora replied with a smile. She got to her feet and took a few quick steps across the state room to sit down next to her father and hug him. The Emperor kissed her forehead and embraced her.

"Your mother would be so proud of you." the Emperor told her softly. "The day before our wedding, she was so nervous, she was bursting into tears without provocation all day, she wasn't able to keep any food down. You're serene, like an angel."

"I wish she was here..." Theodora murmured quietly.

***

"Pele must be such a romantic place for a honeymoon." Zoë said dreamily in the dining room next to the Emperor's stateroom, where the rest of the family was gathered. Helen opened her mouth to reply, but her father cut her off before she even began.

"We must find you a husband, Helen, and soon." Basil declared out of the blue. "Both Anna and Theodora are younger than you, and are already married."

Helen blushed and looked a little indignant, as if her father had declared her to be an old maid out of the blue. Then she bit her lower lip and smiled. She looked over to Constantine and held out her hand. Grinning back in return at the joke, Constantine hopped over to her and took her hand. The two of them smiled at Basil. Jacqueline chuckled.

"It might work..." Basil replied thoughtfully, seeing that they were kidding around and pretending to take it seriously. Helen blanched a little and Constantine swallowed nervously.

"Cousins marrying cousins!" snorted Irene from the corner. "They'll only produce stupid, inbred children."

Helen's jaw dropped open and Jacqueline was taken aback and then slapped Basil on the arm as if to urge him to say something. She scowled at her sister-in-law as Irene rose from her seat and left the room.

"Twisted, bitter old bi..." Jacqueline started, but Basil glared at her to warn her off calling Irene such a thing. "You might have said something, Basil."

"She wouldn't have heard." Basil replied quietly.

***

A very pregnant Anna groaned as she got to her feet on-board Excalbia One. She pulled some shoes on her feet and shuffled towards the door, entering the corridor which linked the family compartments. She entered the compartment where Joseph and Peter were speaking.

"Your Highnesses..." she said as she entered. She walked over to Joseph and put an arm around him. "How much longer until we get there, Joseph?"

Aboard Excalbia One...

Joseph and Peter both stood as soon as Anna entered the room. Joseph put his arm around her and helped her into the seat beside his. “We should be there soon, maybe another hour or so before we start our approach. How are you doing?”

“Yes,” Peter chimed in, “how are you, Anna? How are you holding up with the flight and all…”

Elsewhere aboard the Imperial family’s custom Boeing 777, Empress Elizabeth and her daughter sat chatting about the Resurgent Dream. “Do you think,” Princess Rebecca asked excitedly, “that Father will let me just stay in the High Kingdom until the school term begins?”

Elizabeth smiled and stroked her daughter’s long reddish-blonde hair. “You are excited about spending a year abroad you, Rebecca?”

“Oh, yes, I am.” A momentary look of sadness passed across her face.

“You miss Vicotira, don’t you, Rebecca?” Elizabeth continued stroking her daughter’s hair and spoke softly and reassuringly.

“Yes, Mother, I do.” Rebecca looked sadly towards the window of the plane. “Part of the reason I came up with the idea of studying here to get to know her better.”

Elizabeth smiled. “I though it was Grand Duchess Nianki’s idea that you study here, dear.”

Rebecca blushed and turned towards her mother.

“Don’t worry,” Elizabeth said, “your Father and I both realized that you and Vicotira were probably behind the idea.”

Rebecca smiled and turned back to the window. “I’ll miss Vicotira, but I know I’ll still enjoy it here. And I know she would have wanted me come anyway.” Turning back to her mother, she repeated her question. “So, do you think he will let me stay, Mother?”

“I don’t know, dear. We’ll have to wait and see.”

In another compartment, Prince James and Tariq played together, while a short distance away the Emperor and his sister sat coolly beside each other.

“I trust there will be no further embarrassments, Christiana.”

“Of course not,” Princess Christiana looked down at Tariq – she was already thinking of him as an adopted son, “things have changed.”

“I have heard that before, Christiana.” The Emperor sat stiffly in a white naval uniform. He had grown considerably greyer in recent years and seemed older than his years. “Elections are coming up soon and I will not have you destablise the government any further.”

“Of course, your Majesty,” she gave her brother’s title sarcastic emphasis and shot him a cold look.

The Emperor met her look and held it. “You needn’t use titles in private, Christiana.” The Emperor stood. “You are still my sister,” he said cheerlessly before turning to leave.

"It's hard..." Anna said. "Flying in the third trimester just seems so... it seems like madness. I wish Theodora could've waited another couple of months..."

She blushed as she heard her own voice and reflected on how selfish she sounded. How much would she have hated it if her own wedding was postponed on account of one of her sisters? She bit her lower lip and smiled a little sheepishly.

"Mon Dieu, that was self-centred of me to say!" she said. "I'm so glad I'm going to see Theodora's wedding, and I'm so happy that she's fallen in love. My doctor's on-board, and he checked me over beforehand. I'm fine, I'm just being a big baby."

Lady Marissa bowed her head in greeting to Princess Earwen, and smiled before she turned her head and watched as Owain spoke to the elf, once he had finished she uttered a brief. “It is a pleasure to meet you, your Highness.” Before once more leaving the conversation to the two, after all, it was Owain’s day, tomorrow would be their day.

* * * * *

The Duke of Lorm and his son, Lord Hugo Devenish had managed to escape the confines of the suite they were sharing with his wife and daughter, and had come outside for a breath of fresh air and a moment to see what was happening in the street. They had viewed the coronation on a big screen, and had smiled as they saw Marissa appear briefly amidst the nobles.

“It is going to be a very busy weekend for his Majesty.” Hugo uttered as they moved through a group of celebrators making their way back to their rooms. “I’m surprised he did not postpone the wedding for a few weeks or something, to allow himself time to adjust to one change at a time.”

His Grace nodded. “He could have done that, but this way, everything gets completed, and he can focus on his new role. I suppose having someone with him, to be there for him will make things a little easier.”

“With Issi?” Hugo suppressed a laugh. “He’ll have his work cut out with her, let alone the rest of the nation.”

The Duke grinned. “Don’t let her hear you say that.”

They continued on through the crowd, soaking up the atmosphere as they walked towards the rest of the family.

"No, my sweet," Joseph said, patting his wife on the knee, "you aren't self-centered. You're a woman about to have a baby; it's only natural that your first thoughts would be about the pregnancy." Joseph looked at Anna. "Truthfully, I would be happier if we were back home, but I knew you would want to be here, so I didn't object. But, the doctor's have assured us that everything will all right. I promise."

Peter sat back and watched Joseph and Anna. So comfortable and happy together. He wondered if he and Gwendolyn would be so happy together.

Aboard the I.S.N. Flagship Tiamat, Emperor Gorrm sits in his chambers, going through the customs and habits of the denizens of the Reurgent Dream on his datapad. Relaxing and reclining in his luxurious suite, the comm comes in from control. "Confound it all! I am catching up on needed reading! What is it?"

"My liege, we're approaching Sol system. We're preparing to leave sub-space, so crash harnesses should be on for your safety." The voice of the ensign sounded apologetic, but firm.

"Fine fine." He sits upright and attaches the harness to himself in the gel-cushion chair. A slight jarring is felt, as well as a profound sense of vertigo.

A few minutes later, the interior comm piped in. "Now entering Sol System. ETA 2 hours before reachig Sol III. Please extinguish all smoking limbs and place your tray tables in an upright position." The sound of chuckling could be heard in the background.

Gorrm activated the ship's internal personal comm to the ship's Handler. "Commander! Silence those giggling fools! This is a military vessel, not some hatchling ride!"

"Thankyou, Ambassador." Princess Marie replied, smiling warmly. "I'm flattered. I thought the coronation was wonderful, didn't you?"

***

Anna smiled quietly and put her hand on Joseph's as he patted her knee.

"I'm glad we came. It's going to be magical, and I haven't seen Theodora since she was kidnapped, I've wanted to see her so much..." Anna said. "Anyway, I'm looking forward to it."

As they had begun to descend, the courtiers gathered properly, one of them being the ravishing black haired foxgirl, Raven, Aurora's adopted sister, who greeted Andreus with "Hello!" and a click of her heels and a bow. She was wearing a handsome riding outfit version of the uniform of the Imperial Dragoon Guards, which looked very fetching on her, and said, "I am Archduchess Raven, Aurora's adopted sister! It is a pleasure to meet you! I'm afraid that I was in Antarctica during the wedding, and it was impossible to get a plane out under the circumstances. You look different from your photos somehow."
"Raven, we're going out now." said Aurora, placing her hand over Andreus'.
Raven smiled at her but shut up, moving to stand with Sophia,who looked cool and elegant in a blue gown that was simpler than Aurora's but mirrored it in its simplicity. Aurora for her part was wearing her strawberry blonde hair in flowing waves down over her shoulders and a small coronet. Thirty Camelias prowled out along with the Imperial couple. Following along with the two Archduchesses came Baron von Bresnvorts, Baroness Toll, Colonel Zimmermann, and a group of maids of honor and equerries in service to the Imperial persons present.
Aurora smiled graciously to the honors done to her, and said, "Thank you General, and I would like to meet him as well. And does Princess Theodora arrive soon?"

“Well, here we are.” The High Coordinator said as the VTOL aircraft touched down on the landing pad indicated by the local air traffic control. Vethara (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Vethara_Shakhovskaya) just smiled back, as a tide of thrilling and anxiety filled her, for not only was she making a visit abroad, but she was also sure to meet her ‘supposed to be dead’ brother, at least the man who called himself her brother.

The pilot came out of the cockpit and saluted the Grand Duchess by Right (as Vethara was still referred to by many), instructing her that they have arrived safely to Tarana and that a welcoming committee was also waiting for her. Vethara smiled and nodded as she stood up and directed herself outside, followed by the High Coordinator for escort.

***

The aircraft of the Grand Duke (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Mikhail_II_Shakhovskoy) landed softly on the landing pad and its occupants began to get ready to walk out. The Grand Duke went first through the craft towards the exit doors, the two Parliament Speakers following him. He passed several Alexander Guards (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Alexander_Guard), from the “Silence and Death” Battalion, nodding to them as they stood up to salute him. Closer to the exit, the Colonel of the Leib-guards Duke Kiltharan, in a parade uniform, saluted the Grand Duke, Mikhail saluting the commander of the guards regiment back with a smile.

“I shall leave the men behind, but I am taking you along.”

“Are you sure it is wise to leave the guards behind, Sire?” The Colonel arched an eyebrow.

“If anything, they shall storm the city and free us.”

Mikhail chuckled as he waited for the door of the aircraft to open, the commander of the Guards standing by his right side.

“There are only seven of them, not counting me.”

“And since when does numerical inferiority intimidate a Taraskovyan?”

The Colonel smirked with mischief and inclined his head politely to the Grand Duke. The door of the craft opened and let the Grand Ducal delegation out into the fresh air of the outside.

***

Back at the Palace, Ambassador Slavosonov was clearly wondering how he was supposed to hand in his gift to the new High King if he did not really know where the gift was. The latter was something that tended to happen when the gift was left with the locals and the guest had no idea where they moved it. But at least he could still gain an audience with the High King. And with that goal in mind, he decided to lay his hands on some local to ask for directives.

Adish smiled, “It all seemed to go very well, yes. I thought the actual coronation was wonderful, but I must admit,” he smiled conspiratorially, “I found some of the swearing of allegiance a little repetitive though – of course, that’s rather the point, but still,” he seemed to pull himself up a little taller than usual, “I’m glad to be back out and on my feet.”

Outside her plane, Vethara found the Royal Guard standing at attention. As a matter of course, the red carpet had been rolled out for her. Approaching, a general bowed to Vethara. "Welcome, Your Highness. His Most Esteemed High Majesty will receive you as soon as possible. In the meantime, might I show you to your chambers?"
...
The Tarasovkan Grand Duke received a similar welcome and an identical offer from another general.
...
The young lady, a gentlewomen in Grand Duchess Gwendolyn's entourage, looked up as Ambassador Slavosonov approached. "Yes, Your Grace?"
...
"I'll have someone check that momentarily, Your Majesty." responded the general. He only had information on the Lavenrunzians, who he was responsible for. "Lieutenant Marrington, go find out the information Her Majesty wishes." A young lieutenant saluted and immediately moved aside. The general then led the Empress, the Despot, the two Archduchesses, and everyone else to the Old City and from there to the palace, pointing out the details of the great marble edifice as they went along.

Soon, they were in an ornately decorated Victorian sitting room where Prince Brendan sat in an armchair, looking at the fireplace. As they entered, the general announced "Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Aurora of Lavenrunz; His Imperial Highness, Prince Andreus, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, and Prince Consort of Lavenrunz; Her Imperial Highness, Archduchess Sophia of Lavenrunz; Her Imperial Highness, Archduchess Raven of Lavenrunz....

Brendan stood and bowed to Aurora, which could just as easily been taken as a bow to the group if one so choose. He bowed over the hand of each lady, not just the Archduchesses but Toll also, and kissed the air directly above it. "It is my honor, Your Majesty, Your Highnesses." He smiled broadly before turning to Andreus. "I have been particularly eager to meet Her Highness's brother."
...
Ground control gave instructions for the Excalbian, Pantocratorian, and Sakkran transports to land.
...
Owain glanced towards Marissa as she spoke before looking back towards the Elven lady. "Our policies on such matters are determined by eternal and immutable moral law, not on what happens to be the demography of the nation at a given time."
...
The page returned to Speaker-Rrit and bowed once more. "I have orders to escort you to His Majesty's chambers, sir."

Having only just discovered he had an additional sister-in-law, Andreus met his future brother-in-law. He sized him up and couldn't help but judge Brendan against himself. Both men had impressive physiques, but Brendan's clearly wasn't merely the result of vanity. Brendan looked tougher, and had a slightly rough quality about him from his military background. Andreus judged that he looked more civilised than his sister's soon to be husband. He also noted with some satisfaction that he was several inches taller than Brendan. Deciding himself to be the better man, Andreus determined that he could therefore like Brendan, and a smile spread across his face as he offered Brendan his hand.

"It is a pleasure, Your Most Esteemed Highness." Andreus replied. "I understand that my family is endlessly indebted to you for rescuing my darling sister. I couldn't think of an act which could better prove a gentleman's worthiness of Her Highness' hand. Thank you, monsieur."

Andreus stole a glimpse of Aurora's adopted sister, Raven, out of the corner of his eye, before returning his gaze to Brendan. It occured to him that he had never slept with a foxgirl before.

...
The page returned to Speaker-Rrit and bowed once more. "I have orders to escort you to His Majesty's chambers, sir."
The Supreme Emperor returns the bow, gently whipping his tail from side to side. "Thank you. Please, lead the way." Needless to say, he follows after the page.

The page led the Supreme Emperor through the long, marble halls of the Palace. They passed by one door on the other side of which many exultant voices could be heard celebrating, mostly female.
...
Brendan shook Andreus's hand with a smile. "My only regret is that we were never able to determine who the original abductors were and bring them to justice as well. All that we've recovered from Marlund indicates that both groups of terrorists made the deal 'blind'." He scowled slightly and shook his head. "But let's speak of more pleasant things."
...
The Sakkran ambassador did indeed see a woman carrying refreshments. She was one of the very few people in the room his height, being one of the few Trolls to remain on Earth in their true form following the Shattering. She was tall, blue, and moved with a well trained grace as she walked towards his general direction, offering refreshment to all who gestured or asked.

The Emperor's 747 landed at Tarana International. A purple carpet was run from the top of the steps connecting to the passenger door, down to the runway. The door opened and the Emperor emerged dressed in a white naval uniform, complete with a ridiculous chest full of medals and a purple sash. On his arm was Princess Theodora, dressed in a beautiful gown of blue silk - not as formal as New Rome Court Fashion, but a formal, modern dress nevertheless, which was arguably more attractive.

The pair descended the steps underneath a purple umbrella delicately embroidered with silver thread, held over their heads by a pageboy who followed behind them. Behind them followed Prince Constantine and Princess Zoë together. Prince Basil and Princess Jacqueline were next down the steps. Princess Irene followed behind them, with Princess Helen slightly in tow, although the two ladies were supposed to descend the steps together. Helen was practically shivering as if just being next to her aunt was a chilling experience.

Ssaarg looks over the blue-skinned woman a bit. Quite the variety they have here-abouts. He gestures subtly for a beverage, looking at the tray with a bit more attention than would otherwise be given.

Tarana, the Resurgent Dream

Sir Adam nodded. “I am sure that the remaining problems will be dealt with quickly. As I said, your achievement in recovering from the disaster is nothing short of remarkable. Nevertheless, I am sure that the departure of so many of the Fae will have last effects on the High Kingdom. Tell me, your Excellency, do you yet have a sense of how many remain? And of how many immigrants you still need to bolster the workforce?”

Aboard Excalbia One...

Joseph patted Anna’s hand. “Yes, and so am I.”

Just then a young woman in the shy blue uniform of the Imperial Air Force knocked on the door and entered the compartment. “Your Highnesses,” she said with a crisp bow, “we are beginning our final approach to Tarana. Colonel Bright requests that you fasten your seatbelts until we are on the ground.” The young woman bowed again and backed out of the compartment.

Joseph reached around his wife and found the seat belts imbedded in the soft leather sofa. “Here,” he said to Anna, “let me give you a hand.”

With the rest of the passenger safely in their seats, the blue and gold Boeing 777 make a slow, leisurely turn to the west and began its decent to capital of the Danaan High Kingdom. After a few brief moments, it touched smoothly down on the tarmac and rolled to a gentle stop. The flight crew opened the main doors of plane and hung the Imperial crest from the open door. Then they waited for the receiving party.

In the plane, Emperor David IV took a final look at his family as they prepared for their first official visit to the High Kingdom. The Emperor smiled at Princess Rebecca, radiant in a pale pink gown. His son and daughter-in-law held hands, their obvious affection filling him with satisfaction. Prince Peter, his nephew, wore a nervous smile and seemed to bounce with energy. The Emperor was pleased; he was not used to such genuine displays of emotion from Peter and it reassured him that this would be a good match. James, his youngest, and Tariq, his sister’s new ward, looked as presentable as two young boys could be.

The Emperor frowned slightly when his gaze fell on his sister. While Christiana was modestly dressed in a multi-hued silk gown, he found that he could not help but think of the scandal when he looked her. He felt a touch on his shoulder and smiled at Empress Elizabeth. She was as lovely as always. Her red hair was pinned up and she wore a small gold and jeweled crown with her silver gown.

“Go easy on your sister, dear. Remember, this is a happy occasion and we’re all family,” the Empress whispered in his ear. The Emperor nodded. He tugged at the blue sash over his white uniform and straightened the wings on his tunic, then waited to deplane.

Karamanlis smiled slightly at Sir Adam. "There are currently 1,237 Fae who retain their true forms in the Resurgent Dream. Our current actual population is already 2,000,001,239 and we remain several hundred millions short of the labor supply that would appropriately match our capital and infrastructure. Nonetheless, I must say we've made much more rapid progress than one would expect. The labor shortage was over six times as bad immediately after the crisis."
...
The Excalbians were greeted in the same manner as all the other Imperial families. Royal guard were standing at attention. The purple carpet was rolled out. A general approached and bowed. "Your Imperial Majesty, Your Imperial Highnesses, His Most Esteemed High Majesty wishes to receive you as soon as possible. In the meantime, might I show you to your quarters?"
...
The beverage tray consisted of glasses of fine wine, water, and, for whatever reason, pear nectar. The Troll turned towards the Sakkran and paused silently as he made his choice.
...
The Pantocratorian Imperial family got a little more than what seemed to be the standard. Instead of the Royal Guard, Andreus and his family were greeted by Knights of the Cup, although now uniformed rather than armored. The commander approached and bowed. "Welcome to the Resurgent Dream, Your Majesty. I'm Julius, Duke of Maramor. His Most Esteemed High Majesty has charged me with seeing to your comfort until the appointed time for him to receive Your Majesty."
...
Owain finished the conversation with Earwen and then Speaker-Rrit was announced and shown in almost as soon as the Elf left. Owain stood once more and smiled. "It is good to meet you, sir. I am given to understand that this is your first trip to the Resurgent Dream."
...
Countess Marian ni Eiluned looked out the window of Andreus's plane, wondering when it'd be time for everyone else to get off.It has been so long since she'd been home!
...
Manjula glided through the scattered nobles in the palace, trying to catch up with her husband.
...
The planes from all the other nations were given clearance to land.

The page led the Supreme Emperor through the long, marble halls of the Palace. They passed by one door on the other side of which many exultant voices could be heard celebrating, mostly female.Speaker simply follows along, rolling along easily with the almost unsettling grace of his kind despite his muscled bulk. Happy voices, female and otherwise, are to be expected on days like this and Speeks has never been much of the speculative type when it comes to that sort of thing.

Owain finished the conversation with Earwen and then Speaker-Rrit was announced and shown in almost as soon as the Elf left. Owain stood once more and smiled. "It is good to meet you, sir. I am given to understand that this is your first trip to the Resurgent Dream.""Yes, sir." Speaker bows shortly in respect. "Hopefully not my last."

“Incredible, your Excellency,” Sir Adam said with a note of genuine awe. “To make up such a loss so quickly.” He looked back at the Prime Minister. “If some twelve hundred Fae retain their true forms, are there any figures on those who have returned as humans? I have heard rumours that some have done so…”

* * *

The Emperor nodded to the bowing general. “Thank you, General. However, if His High Majesty is prepared to receive us now, I would be pleased to go directly to his court.” The Emperor glanced back at his family. “I believe we rested well on our flight. However, if His High Majesty needs some time, we would be pleased to accompany you to our quarters.”

"Thankyou, Your Grace." the Emperor replied in English. "May we present our daughter, Princess Theodora?"

"Your Grace," Theodora said, curtseying.

The Emperor introduced other members of the Imperial Family to the Duke of Maramor. They each politely acknowledged him, and as he lead them on a little, the handful of nobles and courtiers the Imperial Family had brought with them descended from the aircraft, including Countess Marian.

"Well, that concludes the introductions." the Emperor said to the Duke, looking about at the Knights of the Cup. "Please, lead on."

***

"If ceremonies weren't repetitive, they wouldn't really be ceremonies." Marie smiled in response to Adish's comment. She blushed and looked away from Adish's characteristically intense gaze for a moment, and then looked back up and smiled again, biting her lower lip ever so slightly.

"Can I make a confession, monsieur?" she asked him, mimicking a conspiratorial whisper herself. "I hate these big diplomatic functions with all these nobles and ambassadors rushing back and forth constantly. It reminds me of the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, except here I'm expected to race about mingling with people, whereas at home people are trying to... erm... mingle with me."

She frowned a little and grinned.

"Did that come out right?" she asked.

Adish smiled and nodded as Marie asked to make her ‘confession,’ then nodded, “I see, and yes Mademoiselle it was as clear as a spring morning,” he said with a muted chuckle, “And, well, that’s not very much of a difference now is it?” he added with a sly grin, “I get the feeling. Should I consider myself more or less fortunate than you, Mademoiselle, in that I have to spend most of my time studying various aspects of Danaan culture?”

Lady Marissa watched as Earwen left the room, and stood like Owain as Speaker-Rrit entered and made his way up the newly crowned king. Once the formal greetings were over, she sat back down on her chair, listening and not listening to the conversation they were having, as she once more let her mind wander on to her preparations for the following day. She looked over at the two men, a smile plastered naturally on her lips. It was hard not to be happy during such a splendid occasion, and she was so wrapped up with pride and love for the man who had only a short distance away.

* * * * *

Continuing through the hall, Helena Frewin realised how very few people present she actually knew, which in her line of work left her feeling a little concerned. She really would have to get her act together and become better acquainted with those from other nations who found themselves in the same boat as her. She gave cursory glances at other around the room, as she did what she did best, mingle.

Manjula felt an arm reach around her waist as she glided through the crowd. Henri had snuck up behind her and caught up with her while she was looking for him.

"What's the rush?" he asked, with a wink.

Manjula smiled at Henri and allowed him to pull her into him. "I was looking for my husband, actually. Have you seen him? He's about your height, about your weight, and the most handsome man in the world." She winked playfully.

After a moment, she looked around. "I was actually hoping we could be presented together to Prince Rupa before he retires." As Henri would know from the ceremony, Rupa was now Prince of Farinor. Like Manjula, he was a Hindu of Indian extraction.
...
Frewin soon found herself in the company of one Molly, Duchess of Braskar. Her Grace was speaking with great enthusiasm about the potential of Ambara to a small circle of admirers. "There's already civilization on the Pacific Coast, courts, nobility, cities. In addition to the local nations of Marlund and Adoki, there are large Danaan and Pantocratorian colonies. However, inland, to the East, there are vast stretches of essentially unclaimed land. It's an entire barely discovered continent, a place of great opportunity."
...
Julius smiled slightly. Julius turned to lead the way before pausing and turning again. "Is the Countess Armenstar here?" Marian stepped forward slightly. The Duke nodded. "I was asked to convey that the Royal Herald has business with you, my lady."

Marian turned to the Emperor. "With His Majesty's leave..."
...
Karamanlis shook her head sadly. "It would be incredible if it were simply a game of numbers, sir. Finding a labor supply is not all that difficult with the vast numbers of refugees to be found in todays world, unfortunate as that fact is. Making Danaans of them is a much harder and much longer process."
...
"His Majesty is in need of some time, sire." the general answered the Excalbian Emperor. "If Your Majesty would be pleased to follow me..." He turned to head into the Palace. Each member of the Imperial family (or married couple) was led to a luxurious chamber. Their entourages had to settle for less pleasant quarters. The non-royal nobles were quite crowded given the number of ranking royals attenting.
...
Owain returned Speaker's bow. "That would be my hope as well. Our peoples are quite different but I have long believed that many of our values are the same. How did you find the celebration?"

Sir Adam nodded his head in agreement. “True, true. We have found the same thing in Excalbia; we have been very open about immigration and many people from around the world have called the Empire home. Yet, it seems to take a generation or so for immigrants to truly feel like Excalbians.”

Sir Adam smiled. “However, once that transition is made, they tend to be among the most patriotic of all Excalbians. Our Chief of the General Staff, Admiral Sir Derek Kunle, for example, is the son of West African immigrants. Yet, he is one of the finest, most patriotic Excalbians I know.”

* * *

The Emperor nodded and followed the general. As everyone retired to their own chambers, the Emperor turned to the general. “As soon as His High Majesty is ready to receive us, please let us know.”

“Lets go over this one more time", Tim de Boer (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Tim_de_Boer) insisted as he chased the new Knootian Prime Minister-elect, Jan Willem Daatman (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Jan_Willem_Daatman), through a corridor in Tarana. Daatmans wife walked a few metres behind them, admiring the architecture and chatting idly with the TRD host guiding them to the reception about one topic or the other..

“When meeting a Lavenrunzian official you do not give them a handshake, you bow as I’ve shown you earlier.”

The somewhat corpulent Prime Minister stopped and turned around, bowing very deep for the young diplomat before arching up again, holding one hand against his back as if he had strained something while grinning sheepishly.

“Hmmm, not quite”, Tim giggled, “though I may be expected to bow like that for some of the Emperors here. But you are a head of state now so technically an equal, except when you are dealing with the noble courts which…” Daatman waved his hands dismissively and started walking again towards the reception.

“I'll be fine Tim,” he said reassuringly as the young man started to follow him again, trying to keep his pace while simultaneously talking rapidly in his native tongue with all sorts of unsollicited but well-meant advice.

“… so it might be better not to discuss religion or daily politics or personal relationships unless they start about the topic first. Some cultures are quite closed about to that sort of thing. If you are with locals here you can try philosophy and art, but please don’t sermonise, they aren’t the SLP caucus. The last thing we want is to reinforce the stereotype that all Knootians are opinionated. If you can address them in their native language, do so. How is your English?”

“A little rusty but I’ll manage”, the Prime Minister replied with the same sheepish grin.

“How about French?”, Tim ranted on, “If you meet the Pantocratorians they would be delighted to be able to address you in their home language and it would certainly give us the diplomatic advantage that we’ve been gunning for and now with Galadriël gone we should strive to make a good impression with their Emperor.”

“Papa fume un pipe”, Jan Willem said softly, and Tim gaped at his Prime Minister not understanding.

“Not since high school Tim, sorry” he said continuing fluently in the Elvish language, “As loa Quenya fernë milya, be aqua luinë car Menelmacar et Ctan. Vëa tumna lissë metta ma.”

Tim de Boer smiled, scratching innocently behind his ear.

“I wouldn’t recommend using that on the Pantocratorians!”

“Aren’t there any Elvish Pantocratorians to translate?”, Daatman asked jokingly.

“Not here”, Tim replied, “But please just try to blend in. Your opponents may have painted you as inexperienced in foreign policy during the campaign, but I have faith in you.”

“You don’t sound like it, friend”, Daatman replied with a laugh. “Truth be told I would have liked a bit more time to prepare myself as well, but alas. Leaving Knootoss is just one of the more unpleasant parts of this new job, but I’ll have you to help me.”

He poked jovially into the side of his new prospective foreign minister as the doors opened. Looking directly ahead, Jan Willem Daatman drew in a deep breath as he strode inside.

"I'm not entirely sure, monsieur." Marie replied to Adish, with a glimmer in her eye. "Do you enjoy it? Studying Danaan culture? Or are there other things you'd rather be studying?"

***

"I'd love to meet Prince Rupa." Henri nodded. "If I see that gentleman you described earlier, I'll tell him that you're looking for him and will meet him by the Prince of Farinor, shall I madame?"

***

"You have our leave, Mademoiselle la Comtesse." the Emperor said, granting leave to Marian, before following Duke Julius.

***

Princess Anna accompanied Prince Joseph along with the Excalbian delegation. When they got to their apartments she sat down to rest, exhausted and tired from walking around, and began to fret about how she'd look in her dress for Theodora's wedding, worried that she'd look fat and terrible as a result of her pregnancy.

Soon, they were in an ornately decorated Victorian sitting room where Prince Brendan sat in an armchair, looking at the fireplace. As they entered, the general announced "Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Aurora of Lavenrunz; His Imperial Highness, Prince Andreus, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, and Prince Consort of Lavenrunz; Her Imperial Highness, Archduchess Sophia of Lavenrunz; Her Imperial Highness, Archduchess Raven of Lavenrunz....

Brendan stood and bowed to Aurora, which could just as easily been taken as a bow to the group if one so choose. He bowed over the hand of each lady, not just the Archduchesses but Toll also, and kissed the air directly above it. "It is my honor, Your Majesty, Your Highnesses." He smiled broadly before turning to Andreus. "I have been particularly eager to meet Her Highness's brother."



"Hello. Congratulations." said Aurora pleasantly. "I am sure you will be very happy. Allow me to give you my best wishes for a lovely future for you and for your bride."

Owain returned Speaker's bow. "That would be my hope as well. Our peoples are quite different but I have long believed that many of our values are the same. How did you find the celebration?"
Diplomacy is an art of many things. The more cynical call it the art of yawning with one's mouth closed, lying through one's teeth without being caught, and telling someone to go to hell and have them like it; the more idealistically cynical Scolopendran formulation says that diplomacy is the art of selectively misleading while never lying. Speaker's aesthetics are still quite kzin, even more so now with being the Patriarch. While he could see some sort of beauty in the pomp and pageantry of the wedding and coronation, it was not exactly something he understood or particularly enjoyed.

"It was appropriate for the occasion," he says without a moment of thought and with perfect authority--it is true, after all--"and I am honored to have been invited. I can only hope that everyone will find happiness in their new relations to each other and country." The edges of his thin black lips curl up slightly out of habit, emulating a human smile while his batwing ears wink in a more native gesture. "If there is anything I can help with, I offer my services in that regard."

"I don't think there..." Owain paused a moment, thinking. "Actually, I am given to understand that Scolopendra expends substantial resources helping refugees, including a great many refugees from extraterrestrial and even extrasolar nations. Is that accurate?"
...
"Thank you very much, Your Majesty. I hope that you and your husband are doing well and I hope that Lavenrunz continues to prosper under your reign."
...
"Do you know him well?" Manjula asked, smiling amusedly, even as she moved through the crowds. Finally, she spotted Prince Rupe walked away from a conversational cluster of Prince Cesare, Prince James, and Princess Chrysanthenum.
...
Marian headed off to see the herald. The Imperial family was shown to their separate luxurious chambers. The Emperor was alone. Basil and Jacqueline were to share (naturally) as were Helen and Marie. Irene was alone as was Constantine. Theodora and Zoe had a room to share. Their entourages were shown to aristocratic but rather crowded chambers.
...
A page walked up to Daatman and addressed him in Dutch. "Excuse me, Mr. Prime Minister, if you'll come with me."
...
"Of course..." Karamanlis said "...we can also rely on some of the more inexplicable but useful traits of modern large populations..."* As she spoke, a page came up and slipped her a note. "If you'll excuse me, Sir Adam, it was lovely to meet you. I do hope we shall work well together in the future." She offered her hand again before following the page out of the room.


*A reference to the non-sensical behavior of NS official populations, explained away by fractal reality or some other pseudo-scientific theory to justify such things

Daatman, his wife Irene and Tim de Boer followed the page, not knowing where they would be led. Tim supposed they would be introduced to the hosts.

The sharp rap of knuckles on the door to the sealed cabin drew Ainulindalion’s consciousness back into the physical avatar that lay naked in the bed inside. As he drew in perceptions, he smiled at the warm weight across his chest and the silky brush of brunette hair on his skin as he breathed in deeply the perfume of his lover.

“Your Majesty? We’ll be landing in thirty minutes. You wished to be informed,” came the voice from the other side of the door, that of the Empress of Tartarus’ head bodyguard, Chris Denton. Balion gently ran his finger along Gehenna’s spine and whispered a suggestion into her ear and into her mind that she wake up from her nap.

Wake up, Gehenna, dear heart.

“Mmhmm,” Gehenna murmured against Balion’s skin, as a shiver rushed over her body, his voice slowly bringing her out of her dream. She blinked open her eyes, for a moment struggling to recognise her surroundings as her gaze fixed and focused on points around her. Her fingers that rested lightly on his chest began to slowly trace over his skin. “Are we there already?” she asked sleepily, her body coming to its senses, as she woke up completely. Stretching, she tried to bring herself to full awareness, as her gaze found the face of her lover. “I would recommend this form of travel to everyone.” She smiled, as she shifted her body, until she could look down into his eyes.

The immortal leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to Gehenna’s lips, slightly reddened from earlier vigorous use, then cocked his head to listen to the low roar of the plane engines, despite the cabin’s soundproofing. “I think this is too noisy to be a form of much use for travel.” He grinned as he reminded once more of the differences in their experiences. “But yes, Officer Denton just mentioned we would be landing in thirty minutes.” He did not give her much time to consider his pronouncement, though, as his hand tangled itself in her loosely curled brown locks and pulled her down into a kiss once more. “I figure we have two options. We entertain ourselves for twenty eight minutes and then I dress us as the wheels touch, or we get dressed now.”

Raising her hand, Gehenna strokes Balion’s cheek, caressing and gently. “I know which one I want to choose, but I believe we should dress properly.” She pressed another kiss lightly to his lips and smiled. “I would not like to leave the plane blushing with pleasure.” She snuggled down against him, nestling along his body. “But there is no rush.”

Smiling with pleasure as the softness of the young woman’s body conformed along his, Ainulindalion gently slid his hand up and down her back. “Not for a few moments, anyways.” Meeting her eyes with a slight grin, he asked, “Other than your cousin is getting married to one of their nobles, what do you know about these people?”

Gehenna closed her eyes as his hand moved over her skin. “Not as much as I would prefer really.” She took several slow breaths, feeling herself relaxing against his warm body. “We have an embassy exchange and that really is the extent of our connection, other than Issi – Marissa – of course.” She opened her eyes and moved her position, once more gazing into his eyes. “I appreciate you coming with me.” She pressed a brief kiss to his lips before getting into a sitting position on his hip. Her eyes met his with a smile. “As much as I love Val, it is so much more enjoyable having you around.” The smile grew quickly into a grin.

“Well,” he replied, grinning broadly as his fingers ran down her rib cage, “I should hope Val doesn’t do this,” as his touch continued on down to trace over her hip. “Or, at least, he better not.” Sitting up as well, he shifted his leg so she fell back against his chest and was sitting between his thighs while his arms wrapped around her and kissed the top of her head through her hair. “Don’t forget to call me George.”

Gehenna leant against his chest, her hand brushing over his leg, as she looked up into his face. “I think I can manage that Bali…George.” She laughed lightly, as she struggled into a more comfortable position. “I will be fine when we arrive. I just have trouble thinking of you as anything other than Balion when we are alone.”

His grin growing broader, he laughed. “And I remember how hard it was to break you of calling me Lord Daniels.” He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “You should probably start getting dressed if you want to be ready when we’re landing.” His eyes lit with playfulness. “I’ll watch you, though it’s not as much fun as watching you undress.”

“You could always help, if you wanted.” She smiled, as she manoeuvred herself until she was facing him, her face mere inches away from his. Leaning forward slightly, she brushed her lips lightly against his before disentangling her body from his and climbing off the bed. “I am beginning to regret my decision,” she said, her brow creased with a frown. “I think I should have chosen option one.”

Despite her words, she walked over to where her clothing was ready for her to dress in. She pulled out her underwear first, slipping them on her naked body, shivering with excitement as Balion’s eyes never left her. She moved over to the bed, and presented her back to him, as she put on her bra. What seemed like moments later, she pulled on her outfit, a deep red dress that came down just below her knees, with a matching fitted jacket, with black trim. She moved over to the mirror and frowned as she caught sight of her bed tangled hair. “This look would certainly highlight what we have been doing.” She smiled at Balion through the mirror.

As Gehenna commented on her hair, Balion dedicated the tiniest sliver of his attention to it, so that when her eyes left his and looked back into the mirror, her hair was repaired from looking has if she had just been rolling about in bed for a few hours, and was done elaborately in a braid curled atop her head. “You wanted help?” he said as he swung out of bed and moved up behind her.

As his arms went around her waist, the she could see the solid black against the garnet. His black hair slicked back against his head, artfully spiked in places, repairing damage wrought by exploring fingers earlier in the afternoon. Gleaming black eyes flashed blue for a moment as he pulled her against his chest, covered in a black tunic jacket, silver buttons pressed along her spine. Cool metal pressed to Gehenna’s neck with the platnium chain that bound the floor length cape over Ainulindalion’s shoulders, swirling around legs wrapped in sharply creased black trousers piped with silver and gleaming black leather boots. As he ran his hands down the soft fabric of the front of Gehenna’s outfit to pull her against him, his sword hilt pressed against her hip. “Ready now?”

Standing before him, her head tilted back as she nodded her head and smiled. “I think we are.” She gently caressed his cheek with her hand and slid her fingers over his jaw, down his neck and brought it to rest on his chest. “You looked very handsome.” Her eyes ran over the length of his body as she took a step back to admire him.

“And you are the very definition of beauty, dear heart.” He took a step towards her as he heard the whine of the engines change to a groan, and then a whistle as the flaps of the large jet began to extend. Normally, this was the point most sane people sat down and buckled up for, but the immortal merely wrapped the Empress in a tight embrace and kissed her passionately.

As the jet bumped once on hitting the runway, they barely noticed, the roar that grew outside as thrust reversers kicked in to slow the massive intercontinental aircraft heard not at all as they remained shielded by their love. Finally, after long moments of the kiss, a knock at the door a moment after the vehicle stopped moving completely heralded Officer Denton again. “Your Majesty, we have arrived.”

Walking over and opening the door, Gehenna looked at her head security man with a smile. “Thank you, Chris. We will be out in a moment.” She waited long enough for him to incline his head respectfully, before she returned into the room, her gaze finding Balion’s. “Are you ready?” She moved over to him, her hand outstretched ready to take his. “And remember, be on your best behaviour.”

A wicked grin spilt the immortal’s face, his eyes lighting up has he took her hand. “Always.” Lifting her hand, he kissed it lightly, then lowered it to offer her his elbow in the proper style. The twinkle that had caused Gehenna so much grief in her relationship with Balion was out in full force, perhaps not this bright since another wedding early on in their relationship.

Winding through the aircraft and down the stairs wheeled to it, the two deplaned and then boarded a local build ground vehicle, second of four identical in a line, with the Empress’ personal guards. Arriving then at the Palace, the two drifted inside to mingle with other guests, the guards doing their best impression of invisibility nearby, but without intruding.

"I don't think there..." Owain paused a moment, thinking. "Actually, I am given to understand that Scolopendra expends substantial resources helping refugees, including a great many refugees from extraterrestrial and even extrasolar nations. Is that accurate?"
The kzintosh sniffs the air silently. This was unexpected. "Yes. We have a history of accepting the oppressed and downtrodden and doing our best to acclimate them to our society. We also do what we can to help others elsewhere. That is what a culture based on idealistic service does." He chuckles softly.

What he doesn't mention is that now with paramilitary knights-errant running about, a lot of Scolopendran charitable institutions could perhaps be described as benevolent terrorists, with an emphasis on the latter to the governments whose blockades and police forces they run through. The matter seems clear enough in the mind of your average citizen of the Segments--a knight-errant never targets civilians and is thus good, while a terrorist actively targets civilians and is thus bad--but the distinction in terminology tends to drop off outside the borders of a nation consumed wholesale by idealistic madness. It's delicate that way.

Sir Adam took Karamanlis' hand and bowed, kissing the air just above her hand. “A pleasure to meet you, your Excellency.”

After the Prime Minister left, the ambassador looked at his watch and realized the Emperor should have arrived. He began looking for the Imperial family’s quarters.

In their quarters, Prince Joseph sat beside Princess Anna. He placed his arm around her shoulders and rested his other hand on pregnant belly. “Anna,” he said softly, “the only thing you need to worry about is upstaging the brides. You are beautiful. And you will look beautiful in your dress. Trust me.”

Meanwhile, in his quarters, Emperor David IV sat, his uniform tunic unbuttoned, reading a book. He laid the book down and looked over at his wife. “They say that this Datmaan fellow who is supposed to be the new Knootian PM should be here.”

Empress Elizabeth looked up from her own book and nodded.

“I think I’d like to meet him.”

The Empress gave her husband a puzzled look. “Are you sure, David?”

The Emperor nodded. “I’d like to see what kind of man he is. Size him up. He talks a lot about peace and hints at being a different kind of leader than that elf-woman. But I’d like to see for myself. Determine whether he can be trust.” The Emperor chuckled. “To the extent any Knootian can be trusted.”

Owain smiled warmly. "We try to do the same thing, although our efforts, like most of our resources, are concentrated on Earth herself. Normally, our refugee program is, to be honest, more of a drain than a boon to our material resources, even though most of the beneficiaries do find productive jobs here. It is, of course, worth the moral cost. In light of recent events, however, we are actually suffering from a population shortage and can greatly benefit from increased immigration. Mrs. Karamanlis tells me her government has put together a rather impressive program to bring about a better correspondence between the capital we have available and the work force."
...
General Craig Wallace stood waiting for the car of Her Imperial Majesty, Gehenna of Tartatus. He turned to another officer of the royal guard next to him, Lieutenant Cara Connery. "Her Majesty is the only guest so far to have her own people take her from the airport. I'm not sure if that means she's smarter than everyone else or just trusts us less."

Connery laughed lightly. "Quite possibly a little of both, sir. Does it mean that much either way?"

"Not really." the general answered with a shrug. "We don't know much about the Tartarans and we're going to have one for a queen."

The lieutenant shrugged. "From what I hear, they're good friends to have. They're allied with the Dominion, Lavenrunz, and Treznor through the NDA, all people we like. They're supposed to be diplo..."

"You've done your homework, Lieutenant." Wallace said with a slight smile. "But that's Her Majesty's caravan coming. Attention!"

When the Tartaran vehicles arrived at the palace, they were greeted by General Wallace and a welcoming party of Royal Guard standing at attention. The purple carpet was rolled out for Gehenna, her escort, and anyone else in her entourage. When Gehenna chose to mingle, the palace staff went ahead and began carrying her things to the chambers which had been set aside for her.
...
Daatman was led to a small sitting room in the Palace. Abraham Goldfarb and Rhodri Llewellyn were already there, puttering about like the aged politicians they were and nibbling refreshments. They smiled at Daatman. After another moment, Karamanlis came through the door, offering her hand to the Knootian Prime Minister. "It's lovely to have you here, Mr. Daatman. I'm Minerva Karamanlis."

"I'm not sure what your status here would be," Scarlet commented after the ceremony, keeping her voice lower than the ambient volume, more out of habit than direct interest in security. Anyone who wanted to listen in on a conversation badly enough could do so despite whatever precautions either the ambassador or the High 'King' could have sanely taken, assuming that anyone had bothered to obtain someone knowledgeable in Weyrik and its various dialects in the first place. They were not planning to discuss anything secret; or anything that was not public knowledge.

"You mean that I don't have ten generations of inbreds behind me? Or that I can get kicked out with a majority vote?" Kira had arrived sometime after the end of the coronation, because there wasn’t much else to do besides go and maintain relations whose origins were so confusing she doubted anyone knew them. She certainly didn’t know; but then there were many things she knew she didn’t know. It made for a confusing logic, knowing that she did not know.

Scarlet replied after a moment of thought. "Both."

"Figures," Kira chuckled, before reasserting a neutral expression. “As long as the Daanans don’t cost our skylines another few hundred million in damages, we’ll be fine.”

“What if they do?”

“You’ve been away too long,” Kira responded. “If you need to ask. Let’s just say they’ve promised to blast their way through next time.” In a nation other than Weyr, that might have been a joke. “On the up side they’re shipping immigrants by the thousands.”

“Great,” Scarlet tried to sound happy. More immigration into the Resurgent Dream meant more work for her small staff in explaining to Weyreans that most nations had significantly more laws and punishments than Weyr.

Ssaarg gave each of the items on the tray a looking over, and settled on the fine wine. His head bobs slightly, in a courteous manner. "My thanks to you, Servitor." A swirling of the glass, and then a tasting sip later; "Excellent."

***********************************************************

The pilot fo the Imperial transpor acknowledges the instructions, banks for a VTOL on the landing pad, and brings the shuttle down with only a slight jarring. The gangplank lowers, and Gorm descends, wearing the banners of the Herpetological Empire on his back and his customary platinum scaled head-cap. His guard takes up their positions, flanking him but not surrounding him. In a moment, if it calls for it, they would have him surrounded entirely.

Ambassador Helena Frewin listened intently to the Duchess of Braskar as she spoke of Ambara, silently trying to mentally recall anything she might have heard about the place, but managed to fail miserably. She really would have to put a little more effort into learning about the nation she was in. Her mind wandered a little as she thought back to the arrival of the Empress and her party, and hoped that she had managed to arrange everything that would get them to the palace with the least amount of hassle.

“And are there any plans for Ambara, or is it all still speculation at the moment?” She enquired, trying to bring herself into the conversation rather than sitting on the sidelines and just listening. “Or is it just going to be left to allow the colonies that are already there the chance to expand?”

* * * * *

Lady Marissa sat silently as Owain spoke the Scolopendran, not wanting to interrupt their conversation. She smiled warmly, though her thoughts were somewhere completely different, and if someone had asked her to repeat anything that she had heard, she would only have managed to explain the basis of topic. Her mind was wrapped up in the following day, hoping that she had remembered everything.

* * * * *

Empress Gehenna, Balion and Lord Val Stratton, strolled up the purple carpet, and each in turn greeted General Wallace before they continued into the palace and looked about them. It had been a while since Gehenna had visited another nation for anything other than business and it made a pleasant change, even if there was always a hint of work whenever she went anywhere that involved meeting foreign heads of state or other dignitaries.

Lord Stratton moved alongside Gehenna, standing on the opposite side of her from Balion. “I’m going to see if I can locate our Ambassador or the rest of the family. I will be back once I have some news.”

Nodding her head, Gehenna gave him a smile. “It is a good idea to let them know we are here. Lord Daniels and I will do our duty and mingle with the other guests. Send the Duke and Duchess my love.” She watched as he walked away, and then turned to Balion. “Remember, your best behaviour.” Her eyes sparkled as she looked at her companion, as they moved further into the room.

Owain smiled warmly. "We try to do the same thing, although our efforts, like most of our resources, are concentrated on Earth herself. Normally, our refugee program is, to be honest, more of a drain than a boon to our material resources, even though most of the beneficiaries do find productive jobs here. It is, of course, worth the moral cost. In light of recent events, however, we are actually suffering from a population shortage and can greatly benefit from increased immigration. Mrs. Karamanlis tells me her government has put together a rather impressive program to bring about a better correspondence between the capital we have available and the work force."Speaker raises one furred brow to complement his more noticable sniffing of the air now. "I do not quite follow. Are you suggesting we divert some of our refugees to the Dream?"

Arcadia, Euroslavia


An invitation was sent out from The Resurgent Dream for three weddings and a coronation, which intrigued Lady Destra. This was a glorious chance at establishing relations with nations she had no previous contact with. Almost immediately, Lady Destra sent back a letter of interest, which was approved. This event would be extremely important for Euroslavian foreign affairs, so it needed to be treated very carefully, and with utmost importance. She began to prepare herself for the trip to The Resurgent Dream to witness the wonderful events that were to follow. Lady Destra often wondered what it would be like to get married...but with so many things to think about, as the leader of Euroslavia, she had no time to even think about anything that had to do with her personal interests.

Lady Destra was transported from the Palace, towards the Arcadian International Airport, where a private wing existed for the transportation of high officials within the Euroslavian government. She got out of her vehicle, while two other men escorted her into the private wing, whereas she immediately walked onto the plane. Her two guards followed her, and sat next to her on the plane. Within a matter of minutes, the plane had taken off, and she was well on her way towards her destination.

"Aren't you even a bit worried about the event that you're going to?" one of the guards asked. "Especially since you know none of the delegates or representatives. Hell, you don't even know the people participating in the actual wedding and coronation."

Lady Destra gave the guard an annoyed look. "That's the whole point. This trip is to get to know more representatives and new leaders so that Euroslavia can establish more contact with those amongst the world. I admit, I am a bit worried, because of the fact that Euroslavia isn't as established as some of the other nations, in the community, but this is the perfect opportunity to do so."

The rest of the trip went on relatively peaceful, with barely any turbulance. The trip was beginning to reach its end, with the plane beginning to reach The Resurgent Dream territory. Almost immediately, a transmission was sent towards the airport that they were attempting to land at letting them know that they were arriving, and requesting permission to do so.

As a matter of course, the Euroslavian plane was given permission to land.
...
Owain shrugged lightly. "They are free people. It is their right to settle in whichever of the nations willing to grant them refuge they find most desireable. However, I think it might be beneficial for all parties if you...made them aware of the option."
...
Molly smiled slightly. "It's likely any further settlement East will result in the establishment of new principalities, at least regarding Danaan colonies. The only problem is that terrorist camps, mainly from the Sons of the Reformation, are still hidden in Eastern Ambara. The military has to clear any area before new settlement can begin."
...
"It is my duty, sir." the troll woman answered Ssaarg.
...
The purple carpet was rolled our for Gorm and he was greeted by Royal Guard at attention. The commanding officer approached with a bow. "Welcome to the Resurgent Dream, Your Imperial Majesty. Please allow me to show you to your quarters."

The plane had begun to prepare itself for a landing. The pilot immediately deployed the landing gear, which caused a slight shake of the plane. Approaching the landing pad, the plane began its descent down towards the ground. Lady Destra (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v492/Euroslavia/pg37-1.jpg) always felt very uncomfortable in taking off and landing, mainly because she had some bad experiences early in her leadership years of Euroslavia. On one occasion, the tires malfunctioned, and the plane had to fly around for approximately thirty minutes, which became the longest minutes of her life, before they finally came loose. The landing went quite smoothly this time around, and eventually came to a stop.

Lady Destra, along with her two guards waited in the plane for two minutes, just to let it settle, and to let it be known that they had arrived. Once the pilot gave the go ahead, they both descended from the stairs of the plane, and awaited any further instruction from any sort of representative from The Resurgent Dream.

Henri and Manjula made their way over to Prince Rupa, Prince Cesare, and Princess Chrysanthenum. Henri waited to be acknowledged, and then bowed politely. He waited for Manjula to introduce him. Manjula curtsied graciously. Prince Rupa nodded with a smile. Manjula seemed to expect Henri to do the introductions, him being the man. After a few seconds of awkward silence, Henri spoke.

"Your Highnesses, it is a pleasure to meet you. I am the Duc de la Côte d'Est. I understand you know my wife the Duchess?" he started.

"By reputation only." Prince Rupa answered. He studied Manjula a long moment, a thoughtful frown touching his aged face before he inclined his head once more.

Princess Chrysanthenum smiled charminlgly, slightly tossing her golden hair. "It's just lovely to meet you both."

"Quite." Prince Cesare said off-handedly, not particularly hiding the fact he was looking Henri's wife over like a piece of meat.

Manjula blushed faintly, looking to Prince Rupa. "I hope Your Highness enjoyed the ceremony."

"It was as expected." Rupa said calmly.

"I expected nothing less than an enchanting ceremony, and was not disappointed." Henri nodded.

Chrysanthenum smiled warmly. "Most gracious of you, Your Grace."

"I must say, the Resurgent Dream has changed dramatically since last we were here." Henri said. "I suppose that is obvious, but it is incredible how much things have changed."

"It truly is." Cesare said with a smirk. "Nerise was not even settled when you were last here, if memory serves."

"And of course the people..." Henri said, shaking his head.

Manjula lowered her eyes, choking slightly. "Yes, the people..."

Daatman was led to a small sitting room in the Palace. Abraham Goldfarb and Rhodri Llewellyn were already there, puttering about like the aged politicians they were and nibbling refreshments. They smiled at Daatman. After another moment, Karamanlis came through the door, offering her hand to the Knootian Prime Minister. "It's lovely to have you here, Mr. Daatman. I'm Minerva Karamanlis."

Daatman shook hands with Prime Minister Karamanlis and smiled briefly.

“Pleasure to meet you”, he affirmed in his best English. Unlike with other Prime Minsiters and Knootian dignitaries, the thick Dutch accent showed on him and behind him Tim de Boer grinned apologetically, a small drop of sweat forming on his frownless forehead.

With a gesture of his arm to the healthy-looking woman beside him, Daatman went on:

“May I present to you my wife, the First Lady, Irene Daatman (http://ns.goobergunch.net/wiki/index.php/Irene_Daatman),” the woman offered her hand as well in a businesslike manner, smiling.

“And the man whom I’d like to be the next Foreign Minister of Knootoss, Tim de Boer”

“A pleasure, your Excellency,” the attractive young Knootian mused as he offered his hand as well.

OOC: assuming that is the protocol...

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Daatman, Mr. De Boer." Karamanlis smiled, shaking all offered hands and then gesturing to a few chairs. "Would you care to have a seat?"

She looked to Irene. "My husband, Colonel Kostas Karamanlis, is out socializing with the other guests. This is Abraham Goldfarb and Rhodri Llewellyn, my Foreign and Federal Ministers, respectively." The two men offerred their hands to the Knootians as well.

Once everyone was seated, a young elven woman came in to serve tea. "Thank you, miss." Karamanlis said with a slight smile, sipping hers. She then turned back to her guests. "Please, feel free to call me Minerva."
...
Princess Chrysanthenum lowered her eyes at well. "It is a tragedy what happened to so many good people. I'm still not sure I understand it." She glanced at a passing Pooka made indicatively. "I understand even less why some were able to remain unaffected."
...
Lady Destra was greeted by more Royal Guard at attention. The commanding officer approached her with a bow. "Your Ladyship, if you would be pleased to come with me, I will show you to your quarters until the time for your meeting with His Majesty."

While arriving at The Resurgent Dream, what seemed like their own representatives walked up to Lady Destra (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v492/Euroslavia/pg37-1.jpg) and spoke to her.

"Your Ladyship, if you would be pleased to come with me, I will show you to your quarters until the time for your meeting with His Majesty."


Lady Destra bowed in return, and nodded politely, following the guards towards her next destination, wherever that may be. She was looking forward to starting things...

Gorrm followed the bow, not quite as low but mimicked the motion nonetheless. "Of course." As he began following the Commander of the Guard, his own guards followed close behind. Close enough to fulfill their duty; yet behind anough to allow the guard of the Resurgent Dream to fulfill theirs.

Gorrm pondered the area as they walked. "Will I be given data terminal access to brush up on local customs while I prepare?"

"One wonders what it's like for the ones left behind..." Henri said contemplatively as he followed Chrysanthenum's gaze to the pooka in question. He put his arm around Manjula's waist as his gaze returned to the conversation. "Still, today was a marvellous new beginning, I thought."

Adish smiled, “Well, while there might be more interesting things to do with my time, I certainly don’t begrudge having to study the Danaans, they’re a fascinating people and culture, in my opinion at least Mademoiselle,” he said, contemplating asking if Marie would care to take some fresh air outside, and racking his memory for the appropriate Danaan and Pantocratorian customs on whether or not that would be considered appropriate.

"It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Daatman, Mr. De Boer." Karamanlis smiled, shaking all offered hands and then gesturing to a few chairs. "Would you care to have a seat?"

She looked to Irene. "My husband, Colonel Kostas Karamanlis, is out socializing with the other guests. This is Abraham Goldfarb and Rhodri Llewellyn, my Foreign and Federal Ministers, respectively." The two men offerred their hands to the Knootians as well.

Once everyone was seated, a young elven woman came in to serve tea. "Thank you, miss." Karamanlis said with a slight smile, sipping hers. She then turned back to her guests. "Please, feel free to call me Minerva."
"Well, thank you.... Minerva", Daatman replied amicably. "No sugar please", he said – giving a knowing look to his wife, who in turn looked him in the eyes for a split-second before turning her attention back to the Prime Minister of the Resurgent Dream. Karamanlis frowned faintly. "I do hope you had a pleasant flight."
"It was uneventful", Daatman replied - taking care not to mention the dreadful airsickness he had been suffering from about the moment the plane had taken off from Schiphol airport to the moment it had landed. "But it is good to be here nonetheless."

"It is certainly good to have you here, especially so soon after your election." she answered.
"Yes, thank you. And my congratulations on your own recent election by the way! It is nice to see two new liberal Prime Ministers being elected." Karamanlis laughed lightly. "That it is! That it is!"

"I wonder how, if at all, this will affect the mood in high-level VERITAS consultations. I've never been there but I do intend to, of course", Daatman said on a casual tone of conversation. "From what I gathered from my own sources it was always a very conservative-minded grouping... but of course eight years of Galadriël might influence that judgment of our diplomats." He smiled casually, although Tim de Boer could be seen glancing nervously as his Prime Minister ignored his precious advice in the hallway. Karamanlis nodded. "It might at that. However, before that could happen, high level VERITAS consultations would need to start taking place. The alliance is frustratingly inactive of late."

"Yes, I suppose", Daatman replied. "Although the low-level proceedings are still going on I guess. And Etaros is doing... something" he paused as if to think "to... make things better."

"What the Prime Minister means to say," Tim de Boer continued as Daatman trailed, "Is that the SLP has always supported the Etaran foreign policy initiatives with regards to VERITAS."

"So have we." Karamanlis said. "Unfortunately, attention has been rather...distracted here of late from such matters."

"I can only imagine", Daatman said earnestly. "You have my sincere condolences; the whole situation is deeply regrettable. We in Knootoss feel for the tragic events which have befallen your nation."

"Thank you." she said, nodding somberly.

"If there is anything we can do to help?", Daatman offered, not really knowing if there was anything.
"Not really." Karamanlis said. "It isn't really the sort of thing you can help with material aid."

"So I figure", Daatman sighed, "But it is frustrating to stand powerless at the sidelines. I will ask our group... church, to think of you." He looked over to his wife.

"Our Humanist Community in The Hague has been very involved with your experiences, and we all hope you have the strength to pull through", she answered. "Your people have always had great spiritual strength, and it is important to hold on to that even if times are bad", she said.

"I... we", Jan Willem grabbed the hand of Irene," we always considered spiritual strength to be something from within. And maybe that is what The Resurgent Dream needs, if you'll pardon me for my impertinence."

Karamanlis smiled slightly. "We appreciate your thoughts and prayers." she said. Daatman inclined his head slightly and his wife smiled.

"I suppose I should let you get back to the party." she said then, not knowing of anything else to discuss.

"I'm looking forward to the upcoming ceremonies", Daatman replied. "Perhaps we can speak again later. And my office will always be open for the Resurgent Dream."

"As mine will for Knootoss." she answered before the pages led the Daatmans amd Tim de Boer back to the main party.

Sir Adam Taurins waited patiently outside the Emperor’s apartment. He had found it easily enough, but then he had to wait to announced and admitted. After a few moments, a member of the Imperial Guard stepped out of the apartment and nodded to the ambassador.

“The Emperor will see you now,” he said, holding the door open for Sir Adam.

The ambassador nodded and stepped through the door. The Emperor stood near a window resplendent in his white naval uniform. Sir Adam bowed at the waist.

“Your Majesty,” he said.

“Sir Adam,” the Emperor nodded, “it is good to see you…”

Several minutes later, after briefing the Emperor on preparations for the wedding and hearing that he was anxious to meet the High King, Sir Adam was dismissed.

The ambassador made his way back the main hall, hoping to find a Danaan official so he could ask about the Emperor’s meeting with High King Owain.

As he made his way through the hall, Sir Adam felt his arm brush against someone. He turned to apologize and saw a pleasant looking man and his turning towards him. While he was no linguist, Sir Adam thought they were speaking Dutch. He looked closely at the man, thinking he looked familiar.

“Pardon me, I am very sorry,” Sir Adam said with a bow. “Excuse me sir, but are you Mr. Daatman, the Knootian Prime Minister-elect?”

Denise Franklin straightened her fine but simple dress as she walked through the halls of the Palace. Her light brown hair was worn naturally, no fancy updos for a woman of her station. Still, she was slightly overawed to be in the presence of so much royalty. She hadn't thought she'd be so close to even the High King, much less so many kings and queens and grand dukes and emperors. She was, of course, aware that she was only temporarily deputized to this role to deal with the sheer number of royal and imperial persons present. Still...she was going to speak to an Emperor. He might even say something back to her, even though he would hardly converse. She finally arrived, knocking lightly on David IV's chamber doors.
...
"We could just go ask her." Cesare said casually. Rupa turned and arched a brow coldly at the younger prince.

Chrysanthenum frowned. "Don't harrass the help, Your Highness. It's most ungracious."

Cesare shrugged. "I was merely trying to be of some assistance."

Chrysanthenum and Rupa both frowned deeply. Rupa then turned back to Henri and Manjula. "It was lovely to meet you, Your Graces. It does warm my heart to know such a charming daughter of Farinor has found a noble husband to properly appreciate her in Pantocratoria."
...
The officer frowned thoughtfully at Gorm's question. "It could be arranged if you wish, sire." he answered, which clearly meant it had not been arranged previously.
...
Lady Destra and her entourage were led to the same sort of spacious rooms that the other royalty was being housed in.

As he made his way through the hall, Sir Adam felt his arm brush against someone. He turned to apologize and saw a pleasant looking man and his turning towards him. While he was no linguist, Sir Adam thought they were speaking Dutch. He looked closely at the man, thinking he looked familiar.

“Pardon me, I am very sorry,” Sir Adam said with a bow. “Excuse me sir, but are you Mr. Daatman, the Knootian Prime Minister-elect?”

“That is me, yes. The one and only,” Daatman said – surprised that anyone had recognised him but smiling nonetheless. He extended his hand to shake Sir Adams'.

OOC: For timeline purposes, the Reich/Eurusea-Syskeyia war is over. We've retaken our land, rebuilding etc. etc. I will continue with said RP, but for this and "present" RPs, the war is a past thing. Just don't ask for specifics until IC said RP is done. :)

Among the guests (OOC: Let's just assume I arrived via the Syskeyia One already) was the Republic of Syskeyia's head of state, President and First Consul Benedict Michael Sukothai.

Unlike previous diplomatic/formal events of recent memory, here Sukothai was not dressed in military dress uniform (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sukothai_dressuniformconsul.gif). Rather, as the war with Eurusea and the Reich had ended and now the Republic was officially at peace, Sukothai wore a elegant, if simple, black tux, with his consular sash over said outfit.

It sure is nice to be out of a uniform for once, the First Consul thought to himself before eying the Knootian Prime Minister and recalling a certain political cartoon he had seen somewhere once (http://knootoss.vogels.nu/images/Daatmanfaces.JPG).

Or maybe I should have worn my old war fatigues (http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v123/Syskeyia/sys_bdu.gif)...

Owain shrugged lightly. "They are free people. It is their right to settle in whichever of the nations willing to grant them refuge they find most desireable. However, I think it might be beneficial for all parties if you...made them aware of the option."
Speaker-Rrit's eyebrow only goes up even further. This is certainly unexpected. Certainly they have a need for labor, but... I am not exactly keen in trading in people, no matter how harmless it may seem. "We can of course inform them of the option," he says, his normally gravelly voice slightly masking the quiet ticking in the back of his throat as he stands slightly straighter, looking down just a touch more on the High King from his height. "There is no need for mutual benefit--as you say, sir, it is their choice."

Owain nodded slightly. "Wherever they decide to go, I do hope they can build better lives as free men and women. I have heard about how some of the extra-solar powers comport themselves, even if we rarely encounter them." he lowered his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "The manner in which places like Central Facehuggeria or Skeelzania treat people of other races...it boggles the mind."
...
Sukothai was also escorted by a page to the room where Prime Minister Karamanlis was sitting. Her husband and her oldest son, Petros, had joined her since the Knootians left. The colonel was standing near his wife's chair while the twenty year old young man was idly pacing the room. Petros paused and Mrs. Karamanlis stood when Sukothai entered the room. She offered her hand. "Good evening, Mr. President. I'm Minerva Karamanlis, the Prime Minister. This is my husband, Kostas; my son, Petros; my Foreign Minister, Mr. Abraham Goldfarb; and my Federal Minister, Mr. Rhodri Llewellyn. Would you care to have a seat?"

Owain nodded slightly. "Wherever they decide to go, I do hope they can build better lives as free men and women. I have heard about how some of the extra-solar powers comport themselves, even if we rarely encounter them." he lowered his eyes, shaking his head slightly. "The manner in which places like Central Facehuggeria or Skeelzania treat people of other races...it boggles the mind."
"True." It doesn't matter that Speaker only recognizes one out of the two names; only the latter is remotely a threat by virtue of existing and the former... he hears Magnus and Simmias chuckle about it from time to time but he's never been able to find anything about it. "Of course, their plight will be made easier as people learn to not associate with friends and allies of oppressive powers."

"Oh, I agree." Marie said. She looked about the crowd of the various nobles, diplomats, politicians and other dignitaries, and sighed. "I suppose that we should keep circulating about and mingle... unless..."

Asides from her verbal prompting, her eyes suggested that she'd like to get away from the crowd.

***

"The pleasure was ours, Your Highnesses." replied Henri, nodding politely before leaving them to mingle with the other guests, Manjula at his side.

"Well, I hope Monsieur de Nerise sees a doctor about that trouble he has with his eyes popping out of his head lewdly like that." Henri muttered jealously under his breath to Manjula when they were some way away.

Sir Adam took Daatman’s hand and gave it a firm handshake. “A pleasure to meet your, your Excellency; we have followed your recent elections quite closely. Congratulations on your victory. Are you enjoying your visit to the High Kingdom?”

As the ambassador listened to Daatman’s response, he weighed his options: either to make small talk or to dive into a substantive discussion at the risk of creating a scene and earning the ire of his Emperor. In the end, Sir Adam decided there was a need for someone to make a bold move.

“I must say, sir, that we in the Excalbian Isles are all anxious to see what policy you will follow towards the Saxmere crisis and how you will follow up on the on-going negotiations. Would you care you share some insights into what we can expect?” The ambassador tried to keep his tone as light and as pleasant as possible.

* * *

Denise Franklin was met at the doors of the Emperor’s chambers of a blue uniformed member of the Imperial Guard. The guardsman greeted the woman, dutifully took her name and retreated into the apartment. A few moments later, he returned and opened the door, inviting Ms. Franklin to enter.

Emperor David IV stood next to a small, elegant wooden desk. His sparkling white uniform was adorned with a blue sash, numerous medals, a set of gold aviator’s wings and ship and sword emblem symbolizing a prior ship’s command. A large broadsword hung from a belt beneath his tunic and a blue cape was draped over his shoulder. Blue uniformed guardsmen stood unobtrusively in the corners of the room.

The Emperor smiled slightly and nodded towards his visitor. “Ms. Franklin, please come in. I understand you have a word for me.”

Denise was a little surprise at the way she was received. Perhaps he thought she was someone more important than she was? Or perhaps it was just Emperor David's reputed courtesy? Whatever the case, she curtsied deeply. "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. I wished to tell you that His High Majesty wishes to meet with you now."
...
Manjula slipped her off Henri's arm where they were linked properly and instead took his hand, holding it like any other young woman in love. She turned to him and smile softly. "Whoever looks at me, there's only one man in the whole world at whom I look back and that's you." Reflectively, she continued. "At least he didn't try to actually say or do anything, although, if he had, I am certain that you are more than his match in such affairs."
...
"There is likely truth to that." Owain said, although he looked deeply thoughtful. "In any event, I have let myself get carried away with substantive policies at what is meant to be a simple reception. I do thank you for coming, sir.I look forward to seeing you tomorrow." He offered Speaker his hand once more before the Kzin left.

Adish smiled a little, and briefly contemplated the possibility of Marie being a telepath, but dismissed it, deciding that she was simply insightful – and charming. “Well,” he said, “Perhaps you would care to take a brief jaunt outside Mademoiselle?” he asked, “It would be interesting to see what’s happening outside the crowd of the court too,” he added, suspecting that she would be rather eager for such a break.

"There is likely truth to that." Owain said, although he looked deeply thoughtful. "In any event, I have let myself get carried away with substantive policies at what is meant to be a simple reception. I do thank you for coming, sir.I look forward to seeing you tomorrow." He offered Speaker his hand once more before the Kzin left.
The 'tosh takes the proffered hand with a short, polite bow. "It has been my pleasure, sir, and I thank you for your invitation. Tomorrow it is, then. Sraap' wrir' eelo kzazd irgeeth... yahughnost'ss hrjoowksmawt g'cu zhe Zrejoz'unj Jeehaz."

Gorrm waves his hand in a dismissive manner. "No need, no need. That would porbably be more effort than is required. I'll just look through the diplomatic 'cheat notes' my ambassadors coughed up for me." He cocks one eye at his guard detail, the foremost who produces a small chit, which Gorrm takes and places in a device attached to his arm. A small compartment opens on it with a slight sucking sound, and closes silently.

Word was sent ahead – the lady did not wish to have any fuss made over her. In fact, the less fuss the better.

“All’s clear,” Massetti said quietly, giving the arm of the diminutive woman he’s escorting a very subtle squeeze. “Ready when you are.”

There was nothing for it. She had delayed these sorts of things for far too long as it was. While she felt less than comfortable about any of it, Mas’ escort aside, she nodded “Let’s go. We’re probably some of the last to arrive.”

Nathicana stepped out of the transport with Mas, keeping close enough that she could easily feel the body armor underneath his clothing. In deference to the more formal occasion, he had gone with a mandarin collar dress shirt and brocade vest under his usual black longcoat. For herself, she had chosen a simple yet elegant black dress, wearing her long hair swept up in a french twist, seemingly random curls framing her face softly.

Massetti understood her nervousness, and the why of it. As her top security officer, it was his responsibility to know such things. A simple social affair was just what was needed to help build confidence and show those who had been watching that all truly was well. He intended to see that nothing interfered with that.

They arrived where they were intended to without incident, and rather quietly, the lady’s mind rather occupied with several things, not all of which were entirely related. To whomever was there to greet, Mas bowed respectfully, making the introduction.

“May I present Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion.”

Nathicana's plane was brought in to land at a small, quiet airfield. There were no ranks of troops at attention. That sort of fanfare had been foregone in deference to the lady's request. There was, however, a purple carpet. It would hardly due to have an Imperatrice arrive on anything less. A colonel in dress uniform returned Massetti's bow and then looked to Nathicana. Your Imperial Majesty, welcome. I'm Colonel Niles Nixon, assigned to welcome you. If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your chambers for the night. His Majesty will receive you later this evening and, of course, the main events are tomorrow."

He led her to the third of six unmarked, identical, bullet-proof limousines. He opened the door for the Imperatrice and then got in after her and Massetti. Soon, they could feel the vehicle starting for the palace.
...
The diplomatic cheat sheet could have had all sorts of information. Most of the appropriate protocols were easily available. It mostly consisted of minor things. For example, if a man and a woman of comparable rank meet, then it is up to the woman to offer her hand. If she doesn't, it is an affront for the man to offer his. However, if there is a qualitative difference in social standing, as between a prince and a duchess, then the man must offer first. However, he always must offer palm up so as to receive her hand and kiss the air directly above it and never vertically so as to clasp it. It was also a terrific insult to actually touch the skin of a woman's hand with one's lips while going through the motions of kissing it. There were dozens of little things like this, most of which wouldn't matter much to the Sakkrans. The one thing that looked like it could be a problem was a tradition wherein the newly wed High Queen would be expected to be asked to dance by each visiting foreign monarch.
...
After Speaker left, Owain sat down to await the arrival of Emperor David IV. "I wish I knew what that last sentence meant..." he wondered aloud to Marissa.

Sir Adam took Daatman’s hand and gave it a firm handshake. “A pleasure to meet your, your Excellency; we have followed your recent elections quite closely. Congratulations on your victory. Are you enjoying your visit to the High Kingdom?”

As the ambassador listened to Daatman’s response, he weighed his options: either to make small talk or to dive into a substantive discussion at the risk of creating a scene and earning the ire of his Emperor. In the end, Sir Adam decided there was a need for someone to make a bold move.

“I must say, sir, that we in the Excalbian Isles are all anxious to see what policy you will follow towards the Saxmere crisis and how you will follow up on the on-going negotiations. Would you care you share some insights into what we can expect?” The ambassador tried to keep his tone as light and as pleasant as possible.

“I don’t know if you are familiar with my earlier Excalbian Isles proposal?”, Daatman asked in response. "I sent a letter to your government regarding them prior to the initial negotiations on the Lavenrunzian destroyer and Mr. van Mierlo has been acting in the spirit of these proposals."

The Knootian paused melancholically, looking down for a moment.

“I intend to do my very best to see that idea realised, and I’m hoping to find some support in Excalbia for the specifics – treaties, politics and the like. My own personal stance in these upcoming negotiations depends very much on the trust that we’ll generate, but I am hoping for a firm commitment in the Isles and I can assure you that the Knootian commitment will match any Excalbian efforts.”

Sukothai was also escorted by a page to the room where Prime Minister Karamanlis was sitting. Her husband and her oldest son, Petros, had joined her since the Knootians left. The colonel was standing near his wife's chair while the twenty year old young man was idly pacing the room. Petros paused and Mrs. Karamanlis stood when Sukothai entered the room. She offered her hand. "Good evening, Mr. President. I'm Minerva Karamanlis, the Prime Minister. This is my husband, Kostas; my son, Petros; my Foreign Minister, Mr. Abraham Goldfarb; and my Federal Minister, Mr. Rhodri Llewellyn. Would you care to have a seat?"

"Don't mind if I do," the First Consul replied.

On the ways towards where she would be staying, she felt a bit out of place, especially without Lady Marona at her side. These sort of diplomatic missions were taken on by both of them 99% of the time. It would feel a bit awkward not having someone to talk to when there was no one there to talk to. The only good thing about it was that she had some time to think to herself about how she was going to introduce herself.

Once she arrived to the housing, she set her things down in the appropriate areas and decided that she would freshen up a little bit. Turning back towards the escorts she had received, she asked, "May I ask what goes on from here? Is there an area where everyone else is meeting, or is everyone going to stay in their rooms tonight, and begin everything tomorrow?"

If there was indeed something going on tonight, she would definitely have to clean up herself a bit. Her hair was a tad bit messy from the journey to the housing.

“As I understand your proposal, your Excellency,” Sir Adam said with practiced cheeriness, “you foresee a comprehensive peace settlement in the framework of a regional security arrangement and trade agreement? Is that accurate?”

Sir Adam paused for a moment. He was rapidly getting on thin ice, bureaucratically speaking, but he felt this was worth it. “Historically, the Holy Empire has been quite reluctant to conclude security pacts with others. In fact, the only such pacts were the Treaty of Jefferson with the Confederation, which is now null and void, and our alliance with Pantocratoria the Principality of Langeais. However, we have always been interested in trade agreements and have, generally, supported free trade agreements whenever possible. In this case, however…”

The ambassador bit his lip, then plunged ahead. “I wonder, your Excellency, if you fully appreciate the reasons behind some of our reticence in concluding such a pact with Knootoss? Or the basis for our concerns about this so-called Order of the Invisible Hand…”

The ambassador paused again. A thought occurred to him that so outlandish, so inappropriate and so likely to get him fired that he briefly went pale. Then, he smiled. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought. “Your Excellency, you of course know that His Imperial Majesty is here in Tarana. Would you be interested in a face to face meeting with the Emperor?”

* * *

“Excellent,” David IV said with relieved smile. He turned and nodded to one of the guardsmen, who darted through a door. Moments later, Empress Elizabeth emerged, looking regal in a blue satin and spun gold gown.

“His High Majesty is ready for us, my dear.”

“Oh, good,” the Empress said.

The Emperor tugged at his uniform tunic and straightened his cape. “Please, Miss, lead on,” the Emperor motioned to the door as he spoke.

“Grazie, Colonelo Nixon,” Nathicana said, offering the man a quiet smile and gracious nod. She kept close to Mas as Nixon led them to the limo, getting settled in comfortably and waiting for it to get underway before speaking again.

“I’m certain that whatever arrangements have been made will be quite satisfactory. If I may introduce Angelus Massetti, my chief of security.” Here Massetti nods in acknowledgement, but otherwise remains quiet. “Do you have an estimate on when His Majesty will wish to speak with me?”

Marissa watched as Speaker left, smiling as she turned to face Owain. “I’m sure whatever he said it was some compliment to your or a good wish. People tend to do that at these occasions.” She was pleased that they had a moment alone, trying to remember who was who was getting to her, her mind not being entirely on the events happening just now. “He seemed charming. And you are doing wonderfully.” She looked over at the door, wondering when the next person would be announced. Today was going to be a long day, and it was not as if they had tomorrow to get over all the excitement. “Today is going to remain in my head for a long time.” Her eyes sparkled as her gaze once more found his.

Henri smiled in response to Manjula's adoration, in no hurry to correct any misconceptions she might have about whether he would or wouldn't fight a duel against another man for her, as was Danaan custom. Quite uncivilised, although if Cesare had done more than simply look at Manjula, he might have been angry enough to do something uncivilised.

***

"I'd be delighted to go on a jaunt with you, monsieur." Marie replied with a smile, saying the word jaunt as if amused with some new word she had just heard for the first time - as it in fact probably was. She followed Adish outside discreetly, and then offered him her arm to walk with her.

As Henri fell silent, Manjula did as well, until an aristocratially, but somewhat masculinely, dressed Trolless walked up to them. "Your Grace, it has been far too long."

Manjula grinned. "Dame Hildebraand! Have you met my husband, Henri, duc de la Côte d'Est? Henri, this is Dame Hildebraand, a friend of mine from school."
...
However discreet they tried to be, two Royal Guards fell in silently behind Marie and Adish. Leaving the palace, they found themselves walking through the crowds milling about the Marble City, none of whom seemed to recognize them at first. People were mostly milling in small groups, families and circles of friends. The ambassadors could see people of all races and sentient species, although humans of European extraction seemed to dominate. People wore the clothing and ornaments of all the cultures and religions represented in the Resurgent Dream, including a small smattered of Muslim women in headscares or light veils, though nothing heavier than that was agreeable to Danaan women of any faith.
...
Owain smiled lightly back at her. "Today is of great importance to me and to my people." he said. "Still, I continually find my mind looking forward to tomorrow."

At that moment, Denise entered and curtsied. "Their Imperial Majesties, Emperor David IV and Empress Elizabeth of Excalbia." She then ushered the Excalbian imperial couple in.

Owain stood again with a polite smile. "Welcome, Your Majesty."
...
"It's nice to meet you, signor." the colonel said with a polite nod. He then turned back towards Nathicana. "I am not exactly sure, Your Majesty. His Majesty takes our relationship with the Dominion very seriously, especially since it has been somewhat dormant of late. However, we are also rather crowded with Crowned Heads at the moment. I am sure it will be within the next hour or so."
...
Destra was answered promptly. "His Majesty will receive you tonight. Other than that, there is nothing officially planned, Your Ladyship. However, quite a few of the guests are mingling near the throne room."
...
Karamanlis kept her polite smile. "I hope you had a pleasant trip."

"A pleasure, madame." replied Henri, nodding politely.

***

"It would appear that the crowds without are just as large as those within, if not more so, monsieur." Marie told Adish. "Still, the air is fresher out here. I'm sure the two guards following us would agree."

She grinned and subtly indicated behind her with a movement of her eyes, without turning towards them or making any other gesture easily observable from a distance.

“As I understand your proposal, your Excellency,” Sir Adam said with practiced cheeriness, “you foresee a comprehensive peace settlement in the framework of a regional security arrangement and trade agreement? Is that accurate?”

“Indeed, you just summarised it”, Daatman replied to the first question, nodding politely as Sir Adam continued.


Sir Adam paused for a moment. He was rapidly getting on thin ice, bureaucratically speaking, but he felt this was worth it. “Historically, the Holy Empire has been quite reluctant to conclude security pacts with others. In fact, the only such pacts were the Treaty of Jefferson with the Confederation, which is now null and void, and our alliance with Pantocratoria the Principality of Langeais. However, we have always been interested in trade agreements and have, generally, supported free trade agreements whenever possible. In this case, however…”

The ambassador bit his lip, then plunged ahead. “I wonder, your Excellency, if you fully appreciate the reasons behind some of our reticence in concluding such a pact with Knootoss? Or the basis for our concerns about this so-called Order of the Invisible Hand…”

“I do hope you understand…”, Daatman paused tentatively, “that the objective of my government is not to protect or persecute any particular religious movement.” He smiled wryly. “I am aware of the Excalbian concerns in this area, and I share them to a certain extent, but I hope you understand that any kind of treaty provision referencing to a specific religion is constitutionally very difficult for Knootoss. We have always believed strongly in the freedom for religions to do whatever they want, without undue government interference. Whatever activities are undertaken by the Order do not, and will not, affect the Knootian government and vice versa.”


The ambassador paused again. A thought occurred to him that so outlandish, so inappropriate and so likely to get him fired that he briefly went pale. Then, he smiled. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he thought. “Your Excellency, you of course know that His Imperial Majesty is here in Tarana. Would you be interested in a face to face meeting with the Emperor?”

“Well,” Daatman glanced over to Tim de Boer who nodded to him quickly, “I don’t… well, I would be honoured to meet him of course, if he would care for the same.”

“I do hope you understand…”, Daatman paused tentatively, “that the objective of my government is not to protect or persecute any particular religious movement.” He smiled wryly. “I am aware of the Excalbian concerns in this area, and I share them to a certain extent, but I hope you understand that any kind of treaty provision referencing to a specific religion is constitutionally very difficult for Knootoss. We have always believed strongly in the freedom for religions to do whatever they want, without undue government interference. Whatever activities are undertaken by the Order do not, and will not, affect the Knootian government and vice versa.”

Sir Adam nodded as Daatman spoke. “Naturally I understand your constitutional reluctance to directly reference a specific religion in any treaty.” The ambassador paused for a moment. He made a point to keep his tone light and warm and to keep a friendly expression on his face. “We also appreciate Knootoss’ commitment to the freedom of religion. In that regard, despite the constitutional role of the established church in Excalbia we are not that different; any religion is permitted and can obtain official recognition, as long as it does not advocate anything that is illegal, such as violence.”

Sir Adam paused again. Here came the tricky part. “As to the Order, if I might be so bold, our chief concern has been that there was… a, shall we say, coincidence of interests and, perhaps, some commonality of leadership between the Order and the former government…” Sir Adam took a breath hoping he had not offended Daatman. “I am sure direct expressions of the lack of mutual influence, such as you just offered, your Excellency, will go a long way to relieving anxiety about future agreements.”

“Well,” Daatman glanced over to Tim de Boer who nodded to him quickly, “I don’t… well, I would be honoured to meet him of course, if he would care for the same.”


Sir Adam smiled and nodded. “I shall put the question to His Imperial Majesty at his earliest convenience.”

Sir Adam nodded as Daatman spoke. “Naturally I understand your constitutional reluctance to directly reference a specific religion in any treaty.” The ambassador paused for a moment. He made a point to keep his tone light and warm and to keep a friendly expression on his face. “We also appreciate Knootoss’ commitment to the freedom of religion. In that regard, despite the constitutional role of the established church in Excalbia we are not that different; any religion is permitted and can obtain official recognition, as long as it does not advocate anything that is illegal, such as violence.”

Sir Adam paused again. Here came the tricky part. “As to the Order, if I might be so bold, our chief concern has been that there was… a, shall we say, coincidence of interests and, perhaps, some commonality of leadership between the Order and the former government…” Sir Adam took a breath hoping he had not offended Daatman. “I am sure direct expressions of the lack of mutual influence, such as you just offered, your Excellency, will go a long way to relieving anxiety about future agreements.”

“The Dutch Democratic Republic is hardly a theocracy!”, Daatman replied raising his voice just a little. Irene grabbed his hand, and they exchanged a smile. “But I am glad to hear it.”

Sir Adam smiled and nodded. “I shall put the question to His Imperial Majesty at his earliest convenience.”

“Thank you”, Daatman replied, “That would be excellent.”

OOC: A bit minimalistic, sorry. ;)

“Of course,” she replied, smiling softly. “I would expect no special treatment under any circumstances, let alone an event to taxing on His Majesty as this. I know only too well the difficulties that come with such things. An estimate allows me time to be prepared, so as not to waste precious time or keep others waiting on me.”

She shifted her gaze for a moment to take in what she could see of the passing sights as they drove. “Tell me, Colonelo, how fare things of late within your fine nation?”

Emperor David IV and Empress Elizabeth entered the chamber hand-in-hand. The Empress curtsied with practiced grace and the Emperor bowed slightly at the waist towards the High King.

“Your High Majesty,” they said almost in unison. Then, turning slightly towards Lady Marissa they added, again nearly in unison, “My Lady.”

“Thank you for your welcome, your High Majesty,” the Emperor said. “It is a pleasure to finally be in the High Kingdom. And to meet the brother – and soon-to-be sister-in-law – of my future niece. Truly, with so many celebrations these will surely be the best of times.”

* * *

“The Dutch Democratic Republic is hardly a theocracy!”, Daatman replied raising his voice just a little. Irene grabbed his hand, and they exchanged a smile. “But I am glad to hear it.”

Sir Adam allowed his face to redden slightly as he bowed apologetically. “Certainly I never meant to imply that it was, your Excellency. Simply that your statements and proposals may afford us something of a fresh start.”


“Thank you”, Daatman replied, “That would be excellent.”

“Then, your Excellency, with your permission I shall try to make the arrangements as soon as possible; I believe it would be best to hold the meeting before the wedding of His Imperial Majesty’s nephew, Prince Peter, and the Grand Duchess.”

Owain offered his hand to the Emperor. If Elizabeth offered her hand, he kissed the air directly above it, though he did not offer first. "They are...It is certainly my hope that the marriage of my sister and Prince Peter helps to seal the friendship we have had with Excalbia since our first contact, as well as to guarantee the personal happiness of Their Highnesses."
...
The colonel sombred. "We are still recovering from the tragic events of what people are now calling the Shattering. We're still trying to understand what exactly happened." He reached into the breast of his uniform for a personal phone. "With Your Majesty's leave, I could get a more precise estimate of the time?"
...
Manjula smiled nervously and asked the Trolless "How have you been?"

Hildebraand regarded the much smaller woman for a long moment. "As well as could be expected, given...circumstances."

Manjula nodded sympathetically. "Well...if it's alright with His Grace, you're welcome to come see me about matters." She looked at her husband to see if it was alright.
...
Amongst the chatter of the crowds, Marie could probably notice a young woman of apparent Dutch extraction picking up her small son and pointing to the Princess. "See that pretty lady, Willem? That's Princess Marie, the Pantocratorian ambassador. She's a very important lady."

"I wish that we could be of more assistance in that area," Nathicana replies, a frown creasing her brow. "Unfortunately, being a mundane race, our experience with the supernatural is sadly lacking. What little we do know is what our allies have told us about themselves."

She makes a gentle gesture in reference to his query. "Please - though there is no need. I will be quite happy to wait on His Majesty's leisure."

As the information was uplinked to his organic-base mobile PDA, which looked like nothing more than an ear-bud below his earholes, a look seemed to cross his features. So many customs. Kissing the air above a hand indeed. As if I even had lips to do so! The information continues to be scanned mentally.

A dance? A ... dance. I'll burn that bridge when I get to it. Or is it cross that bridge? I can never keep those human euphemisms straight. By the time the information would be scanned, he would likely arrive at his quarters.

Princess Marie heard the Knootian accent and froze. Maybe walking outside amongst the unwashed masses wasn't such a great idea? She shook it off and kept walking, subtly shifting slightly away from the sound of the woman's voice, moving a little closer to Adish, and tried not to let it bother her.

***

"Of course." Henri nodded to Manjula. "I will await your return anxiously. Mesdames."

The Emperor took the High King’s hand and gave it a firm handshake. The Empress extended her hand palm down and bowed slightly as Owain kissed the air above it.

“I am sure that Their Highnesses will be quite happy. In fact, I have never seen my nephew so happy, yet so dedicated at the same time. Her Highness the Grand Duchess has already made a magnificent mark on the Prince; I think the future holds great happiness for them.”

The Emperor smiled. “As for relations between our nations, I am sure we will be closer than ever. In fact, I have considered whether it might not be time to make our close friendship permanent. Since our houses are being joined in matrimony, perhaps it is time for our nations to join in an alliance.”

Jared drummed his fingers impatiently as the shuttle touched down at the airport.

I'm surrounded by fantastic, futuristic technology, sitting in a shuttle that can get me from one side of the planet to the other in under thirty minutes, and I spend the better part of the day sitting around waiting for some goddamned incompetent technician to find the right part so we can fly!

He looked over at the packages arranged neatly on the seat beside him. Gifts for his hosts and the couples to be married according to the tradition established by the Emperor whenever he went calling. Jared could see the logic in it; "carrot and the stick" diplomacy the Emperor always said. Fortunately, this was just a social event. There was no stick for him to wave.

There came a knock at the door. Then a fresh-faced young steward poked his head into the cabin. "Ambassador, we'll be ready to disembark in five minutes."

"Thank you," Jared said shortly. He tried not to snap, but it was difficult. The Emperor was watching this mission closely, and was infamous for his intolerance of failure. Missing the coronation was an excellent way to fail. They weren't going to wait for him. He turned and gathered up his things to be ready the moment the shuttle's doors were opened.

I'm too young to die.

“Then, your Excellency, with your permission I shall try to make the arrangements as soon as possible; I believe it would be best to hold the meeting before the wedding of His Imperial Majesty’s nephew, Prince Peter, and the Grand Duchess.”

"I'm looking forward to it", Daatman returned, nodding his head. "I hope to see you when the time has come. Thank you, Sir Adam."

After saying their goodbyes, Daatman scanned the crowd for other familiar faces. Not many faces actually were all that familiar to him, but Tim de Boer pointed some of them out from the sidelines as they waited, more or less, for a chance encounter or the next part of the ceremony...

Lady Marissa inclined her head in a bow to both the Emperor David and his wife, Empress Elizabeth, making little words of greeting, before once more falling silent, a smile on her lips as she listened to the conversation between her future husband and the uncle of Owain’s future brother-in-law. She thought for a moment of the times they would have tomorrow, as three couples took matrimonial vows, not that she was likely to be able to partake in any but her own, but with luck she would get the chance to watch a little of the services as she was getting ready.

Flicking her eyes between the Emperor, Empress and Owain – the latter getting more lingering glances – Marissa wondered whether now would be the time to attempt a little conversation with the Empress. Unfortunately due to her lack of position and not wanting to overstep her mark – she sometimes wished the weddings had taken place before the coronation, just so that she would have a more stable position in proceedings rather than feeling a little out of place – she did little more than smile in the direction of the Empress and just listened to the conversation going on around her.


[ooc: sorry for the delay in replying, I was struggling with posting last week, so this is a little ‘I am still here’ post. A more in depth one involving the rest of my characters will follow soon.]

As the Emperor launched into his proposal of an alliance, Empress Elizabeth discretely dropped his hand and took a step towards Lady Marissa. “My Lady,” the Empress said softly, “please allow me to extend my congratulations on your upcoming wedding.” The Empress’ eyes twinkled and she leaned forward in a conspiratorial gesture. “I must say that I admire you; I never would have had the patience to endure a coronation and all the attendant ceremonies and meetings on the day before my wedding. May I ask how you are holding up, my Lady?”

Marissa smiled as the Empress approached her, her attention leaving Owain and the Emperor, leaving them to continue their discussion. “Thank you, your Majesty.” Her eyes shone as she continued to smile, grateful to have the opportunity to speak to someone, which helped her stop worry about everything needed for tomorrow. “I have to admit today is more of a blur than anything, and I’m really just going along with the flow. My mind keeps running away with itself.” She looked briefly at Owain, her eyes reflecting her feelings for him. “It is His Majesty that deserves all the praise. I am merely a spectator today.”

Owain nodded. "That certainly sounds agreeable. I'll have Mrs. Karamanlis get to work on the exact terms."
...
"Long live the Atlantic Alliance! Long live the High King! Long live the Emperor! Long live Princess Marie!" a few scattered people shouted at Marie.

"We've been recognised." Marie murmured to Adish before turning and smiling to the crowd. She gave a delicate wave to some of the scattered people - not a regal, condescending wave as one might expect a queen quite used to dealing with crowds to give, but a more sincere and energetic one as one might expect from a twenty year old girl.

Empress Elizabeth smiled. “Certainly His Majesty is worthy of praise, my Lady, but you are hardly a mere spectator, I am sure.” The Empress continued to speak in a soft, private tone. “To endure so much ceremony and so many meetings with such grace and patience on the day before your wedding is, to my opinion, quite admirable. On the day before my wedding I was a wreck.” The Empress gave a soft, quiet laugh.

“On a different topic, my Lady, we have had little contact with your homeland and I must admit to some curiosity about it.”

A few steps away, the Emperor smiled broadly and bowed slightly to High King Owain. “That is excellent news, your Majesty. I shall notify my government to expect to hear from Mrs. Karamanlis shortly on the terms of the treaty.”

The Emperor looked away for a moment and saw his wife happily chatting with Lady Marissa. “I must say, your Highness, that I was quite impressed with your sister on her visit to the Citadel. As indeed I have been with all those I have met from your lands. I hope that, once you have attended to more immediate matters that you will consider a visit of your own to the Holy Empire.”

* * *

Meanwhile, as Sir Adam tried to make his way back to the Emperor’s apartment he spotted Princess Marie with a gentleman he did not recognize. He approached to introduce himself and to inquire about arranging a meeting between Emperor Andreus and His Imperial Majesty.

When Marie started waving, more people starting turning their attention her way. Given that she was famous, a princess, and rather beautiful, young boys were particularly eager for her attention and were yelling and jumping about merely to try and get her to glance at them. "Your Highness! Your Highness!"

A few people tried to ask the ambassador questions. It was unclear whether they thought she had come outside to talk to the people of it they just didn't care if they were imposing.

"Your Highness, are you excited about your cousin's wedding, Your Highness?" asked a young woman of Welsh extraction.

"What does this mean about the relations between the two countries, Your Highness?" asked an older Polynesian man.
...
Owain followed the Emperor's gaze over to the two women with a soft smile before he turned back to David. "I think we are both very fortunate men." he almost whispered, so the ladies couldn't hear...or he hoped they couldn't.

Then he returned to business. "My sister was rather impressed by her visit as well. I think a state visit would be entirely in order. Perhaps I might sign the treaty in person..." He seemed to be considering the matter.

Colonel Nixon spoke briefly on the phone before looking back to Nathicana. "His Majesty is currently with the Excalbian Emperor. After that, he will see the Emperor of Pantocratoria and then yourself, Your Majesty."

Marie instantly regretted waving back when she saw how much more attention waving had attracted. Her eyes darted about the crowd and displayed a certain nervousness which was probably natural for a slightly built young woman to feel when a throng of people was surrounding her and pressing around her. She still kept smiling though.

"I am..." she nodded to young woman, and then looked to the man who asked the question. "I'm... I'm not sure. It could only be good though."

She glanced at Adish with a look that said let's get back inside... QUICK

"Grazie, Colonello. That should be ample time for us to refresh ourselves. I'm certain His Majesty will breathe a sigh of relief once all the formal introductions are over. However pleasant, I know from experience it can be taxing," she replies with a quiet smile. "It is commendable that he is taking the time to see us all prior, especially in the wake of so many troubles."

A smile broke across David IV’s face. He leaned slightly towards the High King. “I would agree with you wholeheartedly, your Majesty.”

Mirroring Owain’s return to business, the Emperor let his smile slowly fade. He nodded pleasantly as the High King spoke. “I think that would be a wonderful idea, your Majesty; we would be honoured to host you on the occasion of the signing of a treaty of alliance.”

Marissa laughed lightly, feeling a little more at ease now that she was not just sitting and listening. “I’m not much more than a wreck myself. But I’m happy to be here for His Majesty, it is taking my mind off of things while at the same time making me think more about them.” She sighed slightly, barely audible, while she continued to smile.

“It will be a very wonderful day tomorrow. You must be delighted about the forthcoming wedding of your nephew.” She was suddenly grateful that she had been paying some attention despite the amount of things she had to do before on the run up to the weekend of events. “Gwendolyn is a delightful woman.”

"I must admit that I've never acutally visited your country before," Sukothai remarked to the Prime Minister and the assembled Danaan entourage. "Though I've heard some things about it, epseically your relations with Excalbia, Pantocratoria, and how that relates to the whole Saxmere things.

"Also, this 'Order of Bianca' intrigues me, in no small part due to my own nation's efforts against slavery. Have you heard of Syskeyia's participation in the Amerigan Slaver War?"

Marissa laughed lightly, feeling a little more at ease now that she was not just sitting and listening. “I’m not much more than a wreck myself. But I’m happy to be here for His Majesty, it is taking my mind off of things while at the same time making me think more about them.” She sighed slightly, barely audible, while she continued to smile.

“You hardly seem a wreck, my Lady,” the Empress said softly. “But, if it is a comfort, let me assure from first hand experience that these next several hours will pass quite quickly and the wedding itself will be more than worth the wait.”

“It will be a very wonderful day tomorrow. You must be delighted about the forthcoming wedding of your nephew.” She was suddenly grateful that she had been paying some attention despite the amount of things she had to do before on the run up to the weekend of events. “Gwendolyn is a delightful woman.”

“Yes, she is. The grand duchess quite impressed us during her visit. We believe she will be a good match for Peter; she brings out all his best qualities.” The Empress softly chuckled and shook her head. “Tomorrow will be quite a day. For all of us, I think.”

The Empress paused for a moment. “At the risk of taking too much of your and your fiancé’s time, I am curious how you and the high king met; I am afraid someone left that detail out of our official briefing…”

Marissa smiled, pleased to know she was not appearing so out of sorts as she was feeling. “I am looking forward to tomorrow, for several reasons. One, because it will be the happiest day of my life and two, I will not have to worry any more.” She laughed lightly then smiled as she listened to the Empress talking about her future sister. “I am sure they will be very happy. I have only met the Grand Duchess in the short time I have been here, but she is charming, and will bring out most peoples good qualities. Unfortunately, I have not met Prince Peter, but I hope that will be rectified over the weekend.”

She paused for a moment and looked over at Owain and the Emperor before returning her gaze to Empress Elizabeth. “I believe you need not worry about taking our time, we are here to meet everyone and it is nice to meet new people.” Her smile grew as she pondered for a moment. “As to Owain…his Majesty and I, we have my cousin Lord Val Stratton to thank. I am told that they met at a gentleman’s club and his Majesty – although he was the Duke of Tasat at the time – was invited to a weekend party at my home, and the rest is, as they say, history.”

"Yes, well, hopefully the Saxmere crisis is nearly over." Karamanlis commented. "It seems diplomacy has triumphed over the temptations of all parties to try and inflict their own will upon Saxmere."

Karamanlis nodded to his next comment. "It is certainly...interesting...although we do not support terrorism in any form or for any cause. We have heard a good deal about the Amerigan Slaver War. Unfortunately, it strengthened the Reich a great deal and allowed the worst sorts of mass murderers to pose as liberators. Nonetheless, millions of people are free today who would otherwise be enslaved, so I suppose it was a fortunate thing."
...
Owain nodded. "As much as it pains me to hurry, I do not want to seem to be snubbing any of the other sovereigns waiting to see me." He looked over to the two women who seemed rather caught up in conversation. "If you wish to converse with Her Majesty further, m'lady, you are free to join the Excalbians for the evening. I will be rather busy and most of it will be quite boring, I'm sure."
...
Nathicana's vehicles pulled up at the palace and she was escorted to a set of rooms fit for an empress, which made sense given that she was one. The Colonel bowed and took his leave, telling her to feel free to mingle with other guests if she wished or to just relax and settle in.
...
"If you're answering questions, mademoisselle..." the voice was speaking courtly French with the relaxed sophistication of a gentleman, even as it contained the sort of subtle irony which indicated he knew perfectly well Marie had not intended to be taking questions "...might I ask when His Imperial Majesty intends to settle persons of quality in Pantocratorian Ambara so as to bring good society to the continent?"

When she turned to regard the man speaking to her, she saw a man in his late thirties in clothes that would scarcely be out of place in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. On his arm was a younger lady of apparent Swiss extraction, dressed in the courtly fashions of Zutern.
...
Manjula finally returned to Henri, slipping her arm gently into his. "The lady has invited us to stay with her this weekend, if you wish."

“Yes, we will definitely have to arrange for your to meet Peter; your will both be part of the same family.” The Empress smiled and listened as Marissa told the story of how she and Owain had met.

“It is interesting, is not, how people meet? The most innocuous, routine events can permanently alter our destinies.” The Empress seemed faraway for a moment, as if remembering something. A pleasant smile crossed her lips.

Owain nodded. "As much as it pains me to hurry, I do not want to seem to be snubbing any of the other sovereigns waiting to see me." He looked over to the two women who seemed rather caught up in conversation. "If you wish to converse with Her Majesty further, m'lady, you are free to join the Excalbians for the evening. I will be rather busy and most of it will be quite boring, I'm sure."

The Emperor bowed slightly. The Empress curtsied, then turned to Marissa. “If you would like, my Lady, you would be more than welcomed to join His Majesty and I this evening. For dinner or simply for coffee afterwards, if you prefer.”

"His Majesty will receive you tonight. Other than that, there is nothing officially planned, Your Ladyship. However, quite a few of the guests are mingling near the throne room."

Lady Destra nodded in acknowledgement of his statement, and responded. "Thank you for your help, it is very much appreciated. Once we're settled down here, which shouldn't take long at all, I will head over to the throne room to meet the other guests."

Lady Destra's guards assisted her in making sure everything was in place before she left for the gathering. She was always one for organization to perfection. Once this was done, Lady Destra freshened herself up a bit, and took a walk back towards the throne room, without her guards. She trusted that The Resurgent Dream had everything under control, especially with the amount of important people here.

Once she arrived at the throne room, she was simply amazed. For a minute there, she looked around the room out of curiousity. She also felt a bit awkward, being in a room where she knew almost no one. It seemed as if everyone was currently involved in a conversation, so she politely took a seat, still looking around in amazement.

The pause was long and awkward, as if both Aurora and Brendan were waiting for the other to say something. Finally Andreus intervened. He casually put an arm around Aurora's shoulders, the change of stance instantly making the atmosphere less formal.

"So monsieur, do you think Holista is ready for my sister?" he asked with a smile.

Brendan smiled a little. "Holista will do well to have a princess."

"But this princess in particular?" Andreus inquired.

"Holista knows that this princess is the only one her prince would have." Brendan said, still grinning. "It is rare that men in my position get to marry for love but... I do love your sister."

Andreus and Aurora were both awkwardly silent for a moment as the comment was made about people in their position rarely getting to marry for love.

"Well... that's wonderful." Andreus said. "You and I will have to get better acquainted monsieur, since we are to be brothers in law. But for the time being, we wouldn't want to keep you, or keep His Majesty waiting. My sincerest congratulations and thanks once again."

"Thank you." Brendan said, his smile fading slightly. That was annoyingly quick.

"I'm not sure what activities you've planned for the evening before the wedding, but perhaps my brother and I could join you, make it a bit of a boys night?" Andreus suggested.

"His Majesty and I were actually going to have a few drinks. You and Prince Constantine are most welcome to come."

"Bon." Andreus concluded. "Until then, Your Highness."

The appropriate farewells were exchanged, and Andreus and Aurora withdrew. Aurora and Andreus were escorted to their imperial suite

Marissa smiled at Owain and then at the Empress as she asked her to join them for the evening. For a moment she was at two minds whether she should stay with her future husband or attempt to make an effort to get to know people who would be playing a role in her family’s life.

“If you are certain you would not object to me going, your Majesty?” She looked at Owain, her smile on her lips reflected in her eyes. “I would be honoured to join their Majesties for the evening.” She wanted to be with Owain, but was certain he would be able to deal with things a lot quicker without her there to introduce to everyone. “It is very kind of you to invite me to join you.”

Mas stepped out of the car first, making a practiced scan of the area, then offering his hand to Nathicana with a reassuring smile. She nodded in response, accepting his arm once again as they were escorted to the rooms – which she found to be far more than she ever required.

Certainly, they had fine suites and pallazzos in the Dominion, and yes, they did their best to accommodate visiting dignitaries and rulers from other lands, but the fact remained that until now, the Dominion had never had an Empress, and the rulers had never been near the level of Kings or the like such as existed in other nations. They lacked the long lineage of high royalty, and had become used to operating in different manners. Yes, some leaders had been decadent to the point of obscenity.

Yes, they had their own nobles with families dating back to the beginnings of the Dominion as a recognized nation and then some. Nathicana herself however, still lived in the same villa she had purchased during her time as Minister, foregoing such things as the Doge’s Palace and other more splendid surroundings. She had come from humble beginnings, and while she did have a taste for the finer things, she remained relatively well-grounded, in comparison to some.

The set of rooms here far surpassed her expectations and needs. Elegantly appointed, with everything she could possibly need at her fingertips, and more space than she knew what to do with. Surely they don’t plan on me having this all to myself ... I think I could comfortably house my entire household, security and all in here with space to spare.

“My thanks for your most gracious welcome, and these excellent accommodations, Colonello, both to you His Majesty. I will ... take your offer to mingle under consideration. Grazie.”

After he leaves, Nathicana sits down in one of the luxurious chairs, her fingertips idly tracing over the beautiful lines of the armrest. Mas is already pouring her a glass of ice water, knowing her patterns well enough. “So. We going to go mix and mingle while you wait?” he asks casually, handing her the glass then leaning up against the back of the couch, looking around and taking in the scenery.

“I’m not certain I’d care for socializing just yet,” she replies, taking a long, slow drink, looking less than relaxed. “Were you able to get hold of a guest list?”

He shakes his head. “No, not in its entirety by any stretch, though I hadn’t noticed any ‘unfriendlies’. Some we have little or no contact with, others are allies, several are not really ranked in that regard. It might be good for you to—“

“Yes, and it might be good for you to mind your own damn business about whether or not I choose to go chat up the other guests,” she snapped, then sighed softly. “It is, I suppose, expected.”

And I’ll have to do it sooner or later.

“Well, have to admit ... would like to think I hadn’t gotten dressed up in this monkey-suit for nothing,” the man says in his typical joking manner, crooked smile and all. He then assumes a heroic stance, gallantly offering her his arm with a wink. “Shall we, la mia bella Imperatrice?”

Nathi scowls for a moment, blue eyes glittering, then takes another long drink before setting it aside. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Mas,” she says, finally accepting his offered arm, rising gracefully to her feet.”

“Ah, but I want nothing more than to bask in your loveliness, m’lady,” Mas counters, leading her out the door, and towards the gathering place.

She mutters rather unladylike imprecations under her breath, knowing full well he can hear ... but can’t help cracking a wry smile as she does so. Always the smartass. And a good man to have around. Damn his hide.

They arrive without incident, Mas with his usual pleasant smile now playing the quiet, watchful escort, and Nathicana looking around to see who she recognizes, who she doesn’t, and plotting out which direction to wander in first. And quite firmly keeping hold of Mas' arm.

The young page announced his presence to the Pantocratorian Emperor's guards before heading in to the Emperor suite, bowing deeply. "Your Majesty, His Majesty would like to invite you and your family to join him in his study shortly."

The page had led the Emperor a good way towards Owain's chambers when there was a small outcry from a hall they were crossing. Turning his head, the Emperor could see a stately woman of about forty, dressed in clothes that would not be out of place in the Pantocratorian Court, had fallen, dropping a number of books.
...
Owain lightly at Marissa's words. "Lady, I have invited you to spend my life with me, what's a few hours in the study." He smiled gently. "Go enjoy your dinner. I am sure Their Majesties will be most glad to better make your aquaintance." Owain then returned the Emperor's bow. "I look forward to seeing you tomorrow, sir."

Empress Elizabeth smiled warmly. She bowed slightly to the High King and nodded to Marissa. “Then it is settled. We shall await you in our apartments at your convenience, my Lady.” Turning again to Owain, she added, “Thank you, your Majesty.”

“Thank you, your Majesty,” the Emperor echoed. Then, he crossed the chamber and took his wife’s hand. “My Lady,” he said with a nod, before escorting the Empress out of the room and into the hall.

As they made their way back towards their chambers, the Empress turned to David IV. “David, did you hear a crash?”

“I heard some kind of commotion. But I couldn’t be sure where it came from…”

Prince Constantine hurried over to the woman, and checked if she was OK. The Emperor arched an eyebrow, and followed after him, although he walked, not dashed. Prince Basil and the three princesses followed after the Emperor.

"Are you hurt, madame?" the Emperor asked, and offered his hand to the woman as Constantine helped her to her feet.

***

"Actually, monsieur, I'm afraid I'm not answering questions." Marie smiled back at the aristocratic fellow while her mind raced to try place him. Had she seen him inside? She couldn't recall.

"I fear they might be missing us back inside, monsieur." Marie said gently to Adish.

***

"Well arrangements have been made for us at the palace, Manjula..." Henri began quietly. "But I suppose they'll be thankful to get the extra space... very well."

The woman stood with Prince Constantine's help, taking the Emperor's hand and steadying herself. "I'm quite alright, monsieur. The injury is entirely to my pride." Of course, she did ache a little and it was hard standing up off the floor in a corset but there was no real injury. Her books were still scattered all over the floor. The Emperor could see that they were mostly books by and about St. Augustine and St. Thomas Aquinas and that whatever servant had mopped this section of floor last had accidentally left it wet, the reason for the fall.

The page moved to stand just behind the woman, facing the Emperor. "Annette, Marchioness of Anice!"
...
"I am simply taking a walk outside to get some fresh air. And yourself, mademoisselle?"
...
Manjula grinned and gave Henri a little peck on the cheek. "I love you, Henri."

Prince Constantine gathered up the books the woman had dropped, and then moved to hand them back to her. The Emperor gestured with his eyes to the servant however, and so Constantine stopped and handed them to the page instead.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Madame d'Anice." the Emperor said. "I am glad that you are unhurt, will you be able to manage?"

"Fetch a servant to carry the Marchioness' books for her." Basil instructed the page, now holding the books.

***

"I told you, monsieur, I'm not answering questions." said Marie with a vaguely mischevious smile unable to help herself.

***

"I know." Henri replied, giving her a wink.

Adish inwardly ravaged himself about allowing this person time to continue his pestering of the Pantocratorian lady, and smiled good naturedly at Marie’s answer, “I feel that the good lady may indeed be missed inside. I wouldn’t want to start tongues wagging after all,” he smiled a little, “If you don’t mind, I am sure Mademoiselle will pose the question to her superiors as soon as she has the opportunity. May I ask how you can be contacted with an appropriately informed response?”

----

Meanwhile, elsewhere in the capital, his own superiors, or rather, some of them, were arriving for the following day.

The Daatmans and Tim de Boer were standing together now as a group of school-children waiting for what was next to come. De Boer was anxiously checking his watch, as if he were late for a meeting of some kind.

"I am sure the Princess is quite capable of contacting me if she has the need." responded the nobleman as Adish answered him. "However, I hardly see why she would need to inquire of her superiors whether or not she is taking a walk. Good day to you both." With that, he and the Swiss lady bowed and headed back towards the palace.
...
"I should be able to, sire. Thank you for your concern." She smiled politely. As Basil ordered the page to find a servant to carry the books, Annette protested quietly "My husband asked me to bring them myself." The page obeyed the orders of the Imperial Prince over hers and went to find someone to carry the books for her anyway. She then gave a demure, ladylike blush and turned back to the Imperial family. "As you seem to have been deprived of your guide on my account, it would be the least I could do to direct to wherever you are going."
...
Manjula nodded. "Besides, now we can ask what it is like for those left here without His Highness's rather improper expedient of pestering the help."
...
Meanwhile, a driver at the airport picked up the Treznorian ambassador, driving him to the palace where he was informed the High King would see him as soon as possible.

Jared Stych paced the immaculately styled room where they had him cooling his heels. His luggage he had already sent ahead, and was vaguely regretting it. He would have appreciated something more to do with his hands than shove them in his pockets while he again cursed the technicians responsible for his delay in his mind.

I missed the coronation. How could I miss the coronation? We travel the length of the universe in months, how bloody hard can it be to get to a single point on the same bloody planet?

He allowed himself a moment of weakness to wish that bumbling fool Ambassador the Honourable Sir James Grant had been assigned to this mission instead of himself. He had a great deal of respect for Grant and his team, largely because whether he realised it or not, Grant was very good at his job. The fact that his job was less about diplomacy and more about putting people at ease seemed to escape the old man, but that was part of his charm. At the moment, Jared wished he had him here.

He pulled his hands from his pockets and locked them together behind his back. Having his hands in his pockets ruined the line of his suit. He forced himself to be still and look out the window at the fine view being provided to him. A moment later he was back to pacing and cursing the technicians in his head.

Jared could hear light conversation in the hall, flirting, joking, laughing, discussions about local politics, nothing of any great import. The only single statement that was loud enough for him to hear it clearly was some young woman's opinion that someone named Irene Cousin wasn't "a real lady". Nonetheless, it was clear that conversation and small talk were moving out from the throne room to fill most of the palace as courtiers and other hangers on made their way about, simply mingling and keeping social power networks alive.
...
Karamanlis finished her meeting with the Syskeyian president. As she hadn't planned to meet with any other of the Chiefs of State present, she returned to the palace near the throne room. She smiled and politely greeted a few people she passed, available for anyone who wished to converse.
...
A young, olive-skinned girl of about fourteen walked rather unexpectedly up to the Daatmans, having somehow evaded parental supervision. She wasn't supposed to bug adults like this but they seemed horribly bored and out of place. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Daatman." she said with a slight smile.
...
Owain looked over to Marissa with a light smile. "Well, for whatever reason, it seems we have a minute to talk."
...
An officer of the Royal Guard, a lieutenant if Nathicana recognized the insignia, approached the Imperatrice with a deep bow. "Begging your pardon for your impertinence, Your Majesty, but I have a message for you."
...
Marian quietly slipped up to Aurora and Andreus, curtseying deeply to both. "Your Majesty, Your Highness..." She then addressed just Andreus. "My lord, there is an issue that has just arisen that I need to speak with you about, at your convenience, of course."
...
No one seemed to recognize Lady Destra by sight and heralds no longer stood to announce all entrants to the throne room, as such ceremony had been suspended for the period of casual mingling. The Trolless servitor approached the Euroslavian monarch, offering her some of the delicacies from the tray she held.
...
As the Excalbians were just leaving the room the Pantocratorians had been heading for, they would likely have no difficulty following the sound of the thud and the resultant commotion.

After a time, the Emperor stroked the symbiotid gently, shutting it off. "The odd customs some cultures have. But such is life."

He picks himself up from his seat in his chamber, and signals his guard who form up around and behind him. "Time to see who's here. And get myself a good, stiff drink in the process!"

An officer of the Royal Guard, a lieutenant if Nathicana recognized the insignia, approached the Imperatrice with a deep bow. "Begging your pardon for your impertinence, Your Majesty, but I have a message for you."
"Of course, Tenente. My thanks for your polite delivery. Please, it is no trouble," Nathicana replies to the Royal Guard, nodding in recognition.

She had seen several delegtes she wished to speak with at some point during the night, most importantly, her allies. One couldn't miss the Sakkrans, she thought with a smile. And there was Lady Destra - someone she had looked forward to meeting for some time now. Allies, no ... but the potential for closer ties, she hoped, was there.

While taking a rest at the seat she had chosen to sit on, she continued to marvel at the sights of the room, as well as the clothing of each of the representatives and leaders of their own nation. It was an amazing thing to see such a variety of culture within the same room. As she sat there patiently, she was approached by am an carrying a tray of assorted delicacies. She smiled at him, and took a few of the samples off of the tray and nodded. Another plus was the task of experimenting with foreign foods. This was something that she enjoyed doing, though it didn't occur often. Lady Destra never really went outside of Euroslavia too often, to visit other nations, and she hoped that it would change soon.

Marie blushed at the gentleman's remark and at the phenomenon of Adish speaking for her, but didn't object to either. Instead she slowly made her way back inside.

***

"Will you excuse me, Madame?" Andreus asked Aurora, kissing her hand before leaving her side to walk into the next room with Marian. "So what's wrong Mari?"

***

"That would be very kind of you, madame." the Emperor nodded. "We were being escorted to meet His Majesty the High King. We are however, quite happy to wait for the return of our guide, we wouldn't want you to inconvenience yourself, madame."

***

"Hmmm?" Henri asked, not following for a moment. His remark had been rather a throw-away line. "Oh yes, yes, pardon me, of course. Well yes, we could do that."

"Yes, well, hopefully the Saxmere crisis is nearly over." Karamanlis commented. "It seems diplomacy has triumphed over the temptations of all parties to try and inflict their own will upon Saxmere."

"Well, nice to see that the pen has triumphed over the sword."

Karamanlis nodded to his next comment. "It is certainly...interesting...although we do not support terrorism in any form or for any cause. We have heard a good deal about the Amerigan Slaver War. Unfortunately, it strengthened the Reich a great deal and allowed the worst sorts of mass murderers to pose as liberators. Nonetheless, millions of people are free today who would otherwise be enslaved, so I suppose it was a fortunate thing."

"Oh, yes... sorry about the terrorism thing," Sukothai said, somewhat embarrased at my comment. "The Republic opposes it as well. As for Amerigo, my country knows all to well what horrors the Reich caused there, not to mention what they did when they recently came to our shores.

"But, thank God, that's all over and done with, except for the rebuilding we have to do." The First Consul then decided to change the subject.

"On another topic, it's too bad that our two countries do not yet have diplomatic relations to each other, don't you think?..."

"It is a shame." Karamanlis said. "I'll make sure it's rectified. We'll have an ambassador appointed in short order." She smiled. "It was nice to meet you, Mr. President." She offered her hand again before taking her leave, walking back out among the crowds.
...
Marian became rigid as soon as she was alone in the room with Andreus, speaking formally "I am to inform Your Highness that you are no longer to announce me as the Countess of Armenstar at your court or any other."
...
"Oh, walking is no more inconvenience than waiting, sire." Annette said with a smile as she began to move towards the High King's chamber. "In any event, I'm not sure how long my husband is going to be."
...
The Trolless, who was a she, politely moved on with her tray after Destra had taken her fill, offering to any about.
...
The lieutenant nodded. "I was one of the guards who was with Her Majesty at the end. She didn't have time to say all her good-byes, not with all the..." He cut off, starting again. "Her Majesty told me that she had many allies but very few friends and she mentioned that she always counted you among the latter. I thought you might want to know."

A young, olive-skinned girl of about fourteen walked rather unexpectedly up to the Daatmans, having somehow evaded parental supervision. She wasn't supposed to bug adults like this but they seemed horribly bored and out of place. "Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Daatman." she said with a slight smile.

"Good evening to you!", Irene Daatman exclaimed with an endeared smile. "Who are you?"

Jan Willem also looked down smiling, and he and Tim stopped exchanging words for a moment to look at the child.

"What?" Andreus scowled. "Mari, what happened?"

***

"You are very kind, madame." the Emperor remarked, and the Imperial Family followed after the Marchioness as she led them to the High King's chambers.

Marissa smiled at Owain, and nodded her head, getting up from her chair, and moving over to where he sat. “A minute is good. I wish we had longer, but I’ll have you for the rest of my life, so I can make do with such a short amount of time now.” She laughed lightly, as she ran her hands over her dress, checking for creases. “It has been very nice meeting all these new people though, and they have all been very pleasant, especially the Excalbians.” She looked over to the door that they had exited through. “It was very kind of them to invite me to dine with them.”

Nathi quite carefully keeps her expression impassive as the lieutenant speaks. It wasn’t something she wished to address, not now. A large reason she herself was here when others could have attended in her place was guilt over having never had the opportunity to speak with Agwene one more time. And now it seemed, she would never have the chance.

Agwene had been a good friend in the short time she had known her. There had always been a feeling of something more there, though she couldn’t put her finger on it. Something back from when she had first met the young-seeming fae at the Samhain celebration.

Then there was that night at the villa. She had delayed speaking with Agwene on account of everything that had happened then, and after. She still hadn’t completely come to terms with it all, nor had she admitted to most what had truly happened. Agwene had been one who she couldn’t pretend with – she had seen the beginning of it all. And now …

“I thank you, Tenente,” she replies in a soft voice, tightening her grip on Massetti’s arm slightly as she keeps her emotions firmly in check.” It is a tragedy that your nation has been so divided, and so many have now gone that we would rather have not lost. Agwene was a wonderful woman with a true heart. It means a lot to me that you would pass this on. I considered her a good friend too, and wish that we would have had a chance to speak one last time before ...”

Nathicana clears her throat slightly, looking away. "If you will excuse me, my throat seems to be rather dry. My apologies - and again, my thanks." Mas takes the hint, giving the lieutenant a brief respectful bow, then begins leading her towards the nearest refreshments.

Nathicana's attempt to keep her emotions to herself largely worked. The lieutenant, especially as he had no knowledge whatsoever of that night at the villa, had no clue what was going through her head. What he did pick up was that she didn't want to discuss it more and so he simply bowed as she headed off. "Thank you for your time, Your Majesty."
...
Owain smiled at Marissa. "Come join me for a moment." he said, rising from his chair. "After you go off for your dinner with the Excalbians, I won't see you until the wedding."
...
Marian still spoke with crisp formality. "His Most Esteemed High Majesty's most venerable and loyal Herald, Sir William Connery, has determined that the title to Armenstar properly belongs to the most distinguished Kostas Stephenopoulus and not to your humble servant."
...
Annette smiled again, making conversation as she walked. "My husband and I actually expect to be seeing a good deal of Pantocratorians in the fairly near future."
...
"I'm Corrina Goldfarb, the Minister's daughter." the girl speaking to the Knootians said with an endearing, youthful smile.

"Absolutely absurd. The title was stripped from you illegally in the first place!" Andreus frowned. "Further, I am quite certain that were you to take this Stephenopoulus to court over the title, you would win. Further, if the King ever gets around to seeing Aurora and I, I shall bring it up with him personally."

***

"Indeed, and why is that?" the Emperor asked.

Marissa moved over to where Owain was standing, smiling happily, though there was a sadness in her eyes. “The thought of not seeing you for that long…” She reached out her hand and took hold of his, bringing it up to her lips. “But it will be worth the weight.” She pressed a kiss to his fingers. “I am pleased that we got some time together before I have to leave you.” Lowering their hands she entwined her fingers with his. “Tomorrow is going to be a very special day. I love you, Owain.”

"Thank you, Andre." Marian said with a small smile. "I hope that will take care of the matter."
...
Annette smiled again. "My husband was recently appointed His Majesty's ambassador to Marlund. I expect a rather good deal of the polite company to be found will be officers attached to Montmanuel."
...
Owain smiled as he held her hand gently. "I love you too, Issi." He shook his head for just a moment, looking away. "You had best get going to the Excalbian Emperor's suite, however. I am certain the Pantocratorians are nearly here."
...
Gwendolyn moved through the halls of the palace from the throne room, trying to keep her breathing under control. She smiled and nodded at the courtiers she passed, her fair face alight with a deep joy. She was heading in the general direction of the front gates.

"Indeed. I hope that you will count my cousin Monsieur de Montmanuel among that polite company." the Emperor replied. "I am sure he would be glad for company such as yourself, madame. Be sure that you and Monsieur d'Anice introduce yourselves to Monsieur le Duc."

"And perhaps, madame," added Prince Basil. "You will have occasion during your stay to meet Sir Pierre Phocas, the Governor of Pantocratorian Ambara. Sir Pierre is an old friend and former minister, and a thorough gentleman, something that continent doesn't have enough of I understand."

Marissa nodded and gave Owain one last smile, which lit up her face. “I will see you tomorrow.” She leant in towards him and pressed a kiss to his lips, and then took a step back. “I hope the rest of your audiences go as well as the ones I’ve be a witness to.” Without saying another word, she walked over to the door and exited, stopping briefly to look back at Owain, taking his image with her as she left.

She moved through the hall, her eyes flicking between the rest of the guests and members of staff that were milling around. She gave them a smile or a nod, as she made her way further away from where her future husband was waiting for the Emperor.

The first impression an observer of any calibre would gleam from contact with Paul de Vere was one of overwhelming, startling intensity. He was a moderately tall man who kept himself in very good health, and maintained an appearance of comparative age compared to the youth-obsessed contemporaries in his nation. Greying and ever so slightly receding hair crowned a face of brooding potency. Whether this depth was fanaticism or ferociousness was hard to tell, but it was certainly enigmatic.

He was a powerful man, one of the most powerful in the C’tan Empire, and by extension, very powerful full stop. Supreme Director of the Imperial Security Agency, he was in many senses the Elenaran’s right hand man (which was not as impressive as it sounded, due to several right hand women, and a right hand C’tan also existing). His cohorts formed the second tier of national security, after the infamous necrons. They were responsible for monitoring foreign activity, a task they approached with ardent zeal, and with ensuring the survival of the democratic civilian government of the Empire.

Though in name a dictatorship, most of the Empire’s laws and their enforcement were entirely democratic, going through the elected senate (whose long term leader, and of course, Adish’s mother, de Vere had married many years ago) and its innumerate referenda. This level of ‘direct democracy’ was made possible by advanced computing devices whose care an entire directorate of the Imperial Security Agency was devoted to.

This much power begged for corruption, it would be trivially easy for a man in his position to effortlessly pervert this system to his own ends. However, as much as religion served to make noble behaviour spring from sinners, the cognisance of having a ‘god’ looking over one’s shoulder directly served even better, and Paul de Vere, and by extension his subordinates, did not dream of abusing this immense power.

His actual arrival in The Resurgent Dream as a representative of the Elenaran could perhaps be interpreted as a snub, but to do so would betray a great lack of understanding about the inner workings of the highest echelons of the Necrontyr Empire. Though his ‘title’ in conventional parlance was merely ‘lord’ it was functionally the rank immediately below that of Prince. Since being exposed as a public figure, at significant ceremonial events, he was independently seated at the same level of precedence as his wife.

Lady Princeps Laudrina de Vere Frost, for her part, had been intending to join him on this visit, but as so often happened in her position, she was detained by the unavoidably long hours of the Senatorial Permanent Committee for Legislation and Management, the cabinet or council of ministers of the C’tan.

So he arrived unaccompanied, without the need for guards for several reasons. Firstly simple confidence that no one was plotting to kill him, secondly because he was quite aware that any effort to kidnap him would be quite futile, given that he had a long range transmitter inside his body capable of pinpointing him anywhere in the solar system, and unafraid of murder anyway, due to the certainty that all it would do is eradicate a few days of memory and turn him into a necron lord.

Physically, his style of dress was by the standards of the C’tan, archaic, dating as it did from the days before Quendi influence was as great as it had become. This plain black suit (with some concessions to privilege in silver thread worked into the fabric) was not worn because he disliked the elves; it was instead worn because he liked the styles of his youth a little too much to embrace replacements.

Of course, his youth, long ago now, was remote both in time and place from where he dwelt now, and changes had come with time. The tie was a garment that had in the necrontyr empire, become as extinct as the tyrannosaur, replaced first, in the days of the Confederacy, with Nehru style suits, and since then with, in most places, with Menelmacari-style garments of the type Adish was wearing. Oddly however, something that had made a relative comeback into fashion was the even older style of walking cane and rain cloak, the later of which, for now at least, he eschewed, and the former of which he had changed from his usual, containing a sword in a most spectacularly clichéd but effective style, to a more expensive model of ebony and embossed silver.

Thus, arriving late, or rather, early for the following day, dressed entirely in black and silver, to the extent of wearing black suede gloves, ‘Lord Director Paul de Vere’ struck a rather grim figure with his characteristically serious visage, looked like Death in a suit.

Though it was a nice and very expensive suit…

Paul de Vere was greeted by uniformed officers of the Royal Guard, who stood at attention as he disembarked. He was ushered to a waiting limousine which swiftly drove him to the Marble Palace where he was escorted to rooms befitting his rank. The officer smiled as he left him. "Feel free to settle in here or to mingle, as Your Lordship prefers."
...
Annette nodded. "Of course I do count them both among the best company, Your Majesty, Your Highness." She smiled gently. "I wish we could continue this conversation but we have arrived." She showed them to the door before curtseying and taking her leave.
...
Owain smiled at the departing Marissa, savoring the kiss for a long moment. A moment later, the Pantocratorians were ushered in. Owain rose with a polite smile on his young face. "It is my honor to receive you, Your Majesty, and your family." He walked around from behind his desk and kissed Andreus on the cheek before kissing the air directly above the hand of any lady who offerred.

The Emperor and Empress turned a brief way down a crossing hallway to explore the commotion they heard. At a distance they spotted the Pantocratorian emperor and his delegation assisting a lady who appeared to have fallen.

“Good heavens, David,” Elizabeth said, “it looks like someone has fallen…”

“But everything seems to be under control,” the Emperor responded.

“There is Andreus. Should we greet him?”

David shook his head. “No, I’m sure he’s on his way to meet King Owain.” The Emperor turned his arm and looked at his watch. “And our guest will be coming soon. There will be plenty of time to greet Andreus later; we need to get ready to entertain Lady Marissa.”

Elizabeth nodded and followed her husband back to their apartment.

In short order the Excalbian stewards, with the gracious assistance of the Danaan staff, had the meal ready for the Imperial family and their guest.

Meanwhile, Prince Joseph sat in the outer room of his apartment waiting for his wife. He was not sure if Anna felt up to attending dinner with his parents and Lady Marissa, but he hoped she would.

Prince Peter, knowing that dinner would be ready shortly drifted out into the public areas of the palace hoping to catch a glimpse of Gwendolyn and at least have the opportunity to talk with her before their wedding.

In her own chambers, Princess Christiana sat sullenly. She had declined to join her family for dinner, but had sent Tariq. She rose and, with no particular motive, opened her door and headed for the palace’s public spaces.

"It is likewise a pleasure to meet Your Majesty." replied the Pantocratorian Emperor. "Permit me to introduce my family. Monsieur et Madame, Their Highnesses Prince Basil and Princess Jacqueline..."

"Your Majesty." nodded Prince Basil with a smile which Owain might imagine looked a lot like the Emperor's smile, if the Emperor ever smiled. Jacqueline curtsied and offered her hand.

"My sister, Her Highness Princess Irene..." the Emperor continued. Irene curtsied and offered her hand. "My second son, His Highness Prince Constantine."

"An honour, Your Majesty." said Constantine as he bowed.

"The bride to be, Her Highness Princess Theodora." the Emperor said, indicating to Theodora.

"Your Esteemed Majesty." said Theodora, curtseying respectfully and offering her hand.

"My youngest, Her Highness Princess Zoë." the Emperor continued, and Zoë offered her hand as she curtsied elegantly. "And my niece, Her Highness Princess Helen."

"Majesty." Helen smiled as she curtseyed, and offered her hand to the King.

"It is indeed a profound pleasure to meet Your Majesty," the Emperor continued. "And to at last visit the Resurgent Dream in person. We trust that someday in the future, you will do us the courtesy of visiting the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator and allow us to repay the favour."

"My daughter speaks highly of Your Majesty." Basil observed, referring to Princess Marie. "My congratulations on your coronation."

"Monsieur speaks for all Pantocratoria in extending his congratulations." the Emperor added.

"I'm Corrina Goldfarb, the Minister's daughter." the girl speaking to the Knootians said with an endearing, youthful smile.

"Nice to meet you!", Irene Daatman said exited. "I hope you are enjoying yourself", she continued while bowing down a little to be level with the girl.

Gorrm steps into the chamber that houses the majority of the attendees. He adjusts his head-dress and makes sure his translating symbiotid is in working order. Satisfied that his appearance remains fine, he looks about and gestures to one of his honor guard to fetch him a beverage. "Something stronger than wine, yes? A good cognac would suffice." The guard scuttles off on his task while Gorrm cranes his neck slightly to view who's about.

Pointing at another one of the honor guard, he gestures with his finger. "You're with me. The rest will keep an eye from the surrounding area." Spying Nathicana heading towards the lighter refreshments, he plots an intercept course. In that almot ballet-like way that the reptilians have mastered, Gorrm weaves his way thrsough the crowd with no mishaps from either his seemingly bulky frame or from his tail trailing behind him.

When he's sure he's within close earshot, he gibves a slightly less than officious greeting. "Ho ho, Dread Imperatrice! Your avenue of escape has been found, and now you and your associate are at my mercy!" A bow is given at this, while his guard remains, at face value, unamused.

Lady Marissa made her way slowly towards the chambers of the Emperor and Empress of Excalbia, all the while her mind wandering over the events of the following day, but mostly lingering on Owain, who she could picture sitting at his desk. She nodded her head at passing faces, barely noticing whether they were known or just some stranger that was passing, but before long she found herself outside the door to the Excalbian dignitaries and knocked.

The thought of sitting down to dinner was both a pleasant and a daunting task, for she did not really know the Excalbians other than the brief conversation she had shared with the Empress during their meeting with Owain, but she knew that this was the ideal opportunity to meet new people, especially those that were going to be connected to Owain – and therefore her – by the marriage of their son to Gwendolyn. She waited patiently for the door to be opened, wondering whether she would see the Grand Duchess at dinner.

"Yes, ma'am. I am." she answered. "How come you and your husband are over here all by yourselves?" She tilted her head with honest curiosity, innocent.
...
Owain smiled a broad but gentlemanly smile, apparently unbothered by the Emperor's own dour countenance or by the fact that half the people in the room were old enough to be his parent. "Please have a seat." he commented, as he himself sunk into the chair behind his desk. He made the motion slowly enough to allow the Emperor to join him so that neither of them would be seated while the other was standing. He then gestured for the others to feel free to join them in the many comfortable chairs around the room.

"It is my intention to visit the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator so soon as it is feasible. As Your Majesty doubtless understands, duty requires me at the capital for the ordering of the court after the tragic loss of so many of its worthies, for the opening of our newly elected Parliament, and to restore the confidence of our people after the recent tragedy. To all of this shall, tommorrow, be added the duties of a new husband." He gave Theodora a friendly smile, surprisingly youthful on a king, despite his actual young age. "Duties I shall share with other most worthy men."

He then turned back to basil. "My thanks." He turned to the Emperor as he spoke, making it inclusive.

At that moment, servants entered pushing an ornate cart of thick, leather-bound volumes, bowing, and stepping back unobtrusively. Owain stood and approached the cart, holding up one hand to relieve everyone else of the normal duty of rising when he did. "Your Highness..." he gestured for Theodora to join him by the cart.

The Emperor arched an eyebrow at the peculiar spectacle of the cart, but said nothing. It was with some amusement that he reflected on the time Owain had accompanied his sidhe predecessor to the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, disguised as tourists. The gentleman seemed to have taken on his new responsibilities rather quickly and seriously, which was certainly to be applauded... still, the Emperor couldn't help but reflect how quick a transformation had taken place on account of a sprinkling of water and a purple cushion to sit on. Theodora rose to her feet and stepped over to join Owain by the cart.

"Sire?" Theodora inquired.

“Incoming,” Mas whispers very quietly – more than loud enough for enhanced hearing to pick up. Nathi manages to turn just in time to face Gorm, with a slightly surprised, but nonetheless pleased expression on her face.

“Il dio – Imperatore!” she says, breaking out in a broad yet close-lipped smile. “It has been entirely too long. How fortuitous that my escape has been cut off by the very one I had hoped to meet, no? Please, won’t you join us in a bit of refreshment? Such gatherings can seriously drain a soul.”

She lets Massetti pour her a simple glass of ice water, as is her wont, and accepts it before continuing, waiting to see if Gorm wishes to partake before taking a sip. “How does this day find you, Your Imperial Majesty?”

At that moment, Gorrm's honor guard whom he sent to fetch him a drink returns, bearing a small glass of brandy. An exploratory sniff is made, and Gorrm swishes it a bit, eyeing for color and clarity. "It'll do fine. Return to your post." The guard bows, and returns with the other troopers of the honor guard.

"The day finds me a bit perplexed. Have you been briefed on the customs of our hosts? Kissing the air over a hand indeed. As if I even had lips in the first place!" With that the glass is hoisted aloft and downed in a most unceremonious manner.

A swift wipe of his leathery mout to make sure no brandy is seen, and he continues. "Apparently it is customary as well to 'dance' with the Empress. Normally that would create quite the scandal, but i've briefed my detail on mammalian custom, and they've agreed to look away as that happens. I must say, it's quite delightfully perverse, but i'll keep that under my big ugly hat!" A tip of his head-dress is made to accentuate the words.

"But other than that, I myself am in good spirits. Especially since, with this much 'royalty' in one place, it's a wonder that multitudes of bungling assassination attempts haven't been made."

A slight chittering sound is heard, and Gorrm looks at his symbiotid arm-piece. "Hmmm..time for my evening constitutional." His hand motions at the same guard as before, and a series of flashing finger movements are made before the guard hurries off to the place he originally procured the brandy from. "By the pits, this much pomp and circumstance is ill-fitting to my people. Give us a good Regional Match and a casket of port any day." He then turns his attention back to Nathicana.

"And yourself? How are you and your subjects this cycle?"

"Your wedding gift." Owain said. He paused a moment to let her think he was getting her such an unkingly gift as an single set of books. Then he picked up the first book and handed it to her. "It's Her Imperial Highness, Anna Comnena's Alexiad . I charged a large panel of the most imminent linguists, historians, and authors among my subjects to translate it into every language widely spoken in the Resurgent Dream with extensive commentary. Copies are being supplied to every branch of the Royal Library and to all the Royal Academies in the name of yourself and your soon-to-be husband and some of the more respectable printing houses have been granted leave to publish it commercially."

As she leafed through the first few pages, Theodora could see that it was dedicated to His Most Esteemed Highness and Her Most Esteemed Imperial Highness of Holista and commissioned by the High King's seal. After all the royal preliminaries, she could see the names of people in quite prestigous academic positions who did the actual work of translating, editing, and commenting.
...
Grand Duchess Morgan smiled brightly as she approached Lady Destra. "Good evening, m'lady. My family is very glad you could come."

In the public halls, Princess Christiana drifted idly among the revelers almost oblivious to them…

Meanwhile, a broad smile broke across Prince Peter’s face as he spotted Grand Duchess Gwendolyn. Carefully, weaving through the crowd, Peter made his way to his fiancée. He approached her quietly from behind. Once he was in position, he said softly, “Your fiancé must be an ignorant cur to leave a lady as lovely as you alone at a party, your Highness…”

* * *

A blue uniformed member of Imperial Guard opened the door and bowed deeply to Lady Marissa. “Please come in, my Lady, their Imperial Majesties are expecting you.”

After closing the door, the guard led Marissa into the sitting room of the Imperial family’s apartment. Empress Elizabeth, wearing cream-coloured and slightly less formal gown, turned and nodded to Marissa. Emperor David, wearing a coat and tie rather than his naval uniform, stood and bowed slightly.

“Lady Marissa,” the empress said with a smile, “please join us; we are just waiting for the rest of our family to join us.”

“Would you care for a drink?” As the emperor asked his question, a servant stepped forward, ready to fill her request.

Lady Marissa followed the servant to the Emperor and Empress, greeting both with a smile and a curtsey. “Your Majesties, it is an honour and a privilege.” She let her gaze wander around the room briefly, looking to see if any other members of the family were already present, and she felt more than a little relieved that they were alone to begin with. “I would like a mineral water with lemon, please.” She really wanted a brandy to ease her nerves which seemed to be getting worse as the day wore on, but it would not do her any favours in the morning.

Marissa was still dressed in the gown that she had been wearing during the coronation, her blonde hair pinned up, with a scattering of tendrils falling around her face. “I hope that my dining with you is no trouble.” She turned and looked specifically at the Empress with a warm smile. “Although it is nice to have something to take my mind off of things for a while.”

Grand Duchess Morgan smiled brightly as she approached Lady Destra. "Good evening, m'lady. My family is very glad you could come."

Lady Destra looked towards the Grand Duchess. She was still in marvel at the differences between the cultures of those who were attending this gathering.

"Good evening!" replied Destra, as she smiled back at her. "I'm quite happy that I was able to attend such an event. It's been a while since I've had the time to do so. I must thank you for the invitation in the first place. I admit, it's a bit intimidating coming here, and not knowing barely anyone, but at the same time, its very envigorating to be able to have the chance at getting to know new people, and perhaps establishing relations with new nations." as Destra stood up, bowing respectfully.

"How're things going today for you?" Destra asked. "This event seems to be going very well so far. Are you nervous about the events that are coming up?"

Princess Anna emerged from the bedroom, dressed nicely, looking quite exhausted but still somehow tranquil and content. She put her hand in Joseph's and smiled a tired smile.

"Shall we go to dinner?" she asked.

***

"I... I don't know what to say..." Theodora began.

"Thank you might be a good place to start." Irene observed, arching an eyebrow. She was most impressed by the books.

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" Theodora smiled at Owain. "It's... an incredible gift."

The servant bowed to Lady Marissa and disappeared as quickly as he had appeared.

“Please, my Lady, have a seat,” the emperor said, indicating a chair next to the empress.

Empress Elizabeth smiled at Marissa. “Joining us for dinner is no trouble at all, my Lady.” Her smile broadened. “We thought a pleasant evening of good food and companionship would help calm many nerves before the big; our nephew, Peter, is rather jittery himself.”

The servant returned and handed Lady Marissa her mineral water, with a slice of lemon perched on the edge of the glass. He also set out fresh drinks for the emperor and empress before vanishing again.

“We expect Peter to join us at any moment,” the emperor said, “I think he went to try to find the Grand Duchess. I hope she will be joining as well.”

“Well, my Lady,” the empress began, pausing to sip her own sparkling beverage, “you told me something of how you and his Majesty met through your cousin Lord Stratton. If you would not think it prying, I would be happy to more of the tale, or to hear of your country or, perhaps, a bit about yourself.”

* * *

Joseph smiled as Anna entered the room. She was clearly weary from her journey, yet she still seemed radiant. He held her hand tightly and smiled. “Let’s go,” he said cheerily.

Moments later, a blue uniformed Imperial Guardsman entered the room where Lady Marissa was sitting with the emperor and empress. “Their Imperial Majesties, Prince Joseph and Princess Anna, Sovereigns of the Principality of Langeais,” the guardsman announced. Then, he turned and stepped out of view as Anna and Joseph entered the room hand-in-hand.

David IV stood and smiled. “Joseph, Anna,” he said happily, “may I present her Excellency, Lady Marissa, fiancée of his High Majesty, King Owain.” The emperor turned to Marissa. “My Lady, may I present my son and daughter-in-law, Prince Joseph and Princess Anna.”

“Please sit and join us,” Empress Elizabeth said, “we are still waiting for the rest of the family.”

* * *

Still smiling mischievously Peter stepped around in front of Gwendolyn. “I am so happy to see you,” he said brightly. He took Gwendolyn’s hand in his and kissed it lightly. “How are you? Are you busy? My aunt and uncle are having dinner with your future sister-in-law, Lady Marissa. Could you join us?”

"How do you do, my Lady?" Anna said politely to Marissa as she and Joseph sat down. The Pantocratorian Princess was obviously very pregnant.

Taking the indicated seat, Lady Marissa settled down next to the Empress and brought her glass up to her lips taking a pleasant sip. She gave the woman beside her a smile as she listened to her question. “There really is not too much more to tell you about His Majesty and myself, we met, fell in love and really the rest is history. Although I admit I will be forever grateful to Val – Lord Stratton – for inviting him to our house party.”

She paused for a moment. “As for Tartarus…” She stopped as the party was joined by Joseph and Anna. Rising to her feet, Marissa smiled in greeting. “Your Highnesses, it is an honour to meet you.” Her eyes flicked between the two newcomers, pausing on the princess. “Please, would you care to take my seat while we wait for the others?” She took a step aside, allowing Anna room to pass her, should she so wish.

“Ah, to each their own, they say,” Nathi replied with a shrug and a smile, glancing briefly around the room as she also took a sip of her drink. “All I can offer is to do what you feel is best – no one would expect you to be uncomfortable, one would think.” Her smile turned a bit mischievous at the ‘dancing’ comments.

“A little ‘perversity’ can be good for the soul, Imperatore. Keeps one balanced. For myself, can’t say as I’ve any real complaints, though I agree that all the pomp and fuss can more get in the way than help in social situations at times. I’m all for decorum and proper behaviour, but some take it to ridiculous levels. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the ‘proper’ Empress that way. Damn necessity, I say.”

“What we need is a good barbeque one of these days. I think the last time we had something that laid back was the Mid-winter Bloodfest, wasn’t it? If I hadn’t have seen it myself, I wouldn’t have thought it possible for even Kraah to put away as much as he did. You have a formidable sire,” she finished with a wink. It was a relief to speak of such comfortable things, and avoid entirely less pleasant topics.

Gwendolyn smirked slightly at Peter's words. "Well, yes, but I love him anyway." She winked playfully and slipped her arm into his. She looked a little torn at his question, glancing off as though deciding and not answering right away.
...
Morgan curtseyed to Destra with faint confusion. "I am not sure why I would have cause to be nervous, my lady."
...
"You're very welcome." Owain answered Theodora. He put his hand behind her back to guide her back to her seat, although far behind, as his palm never came within even six inches of actually touching her. He sat back down in his own seat. "I have rather high hopes for tomorrow. It is certainly rather good fortune that, in the first three court weddings of my reign, propriety, advantage, and inclination all seem to correllate so nearly. I doubt I shall often have such fortune in the future."

"Thank you, my lady." Anna replied with a smile as she took advantage of Marissa's kind offer. "I'm sorry, we interrupted, please, continue."

***

"Kings make their own fortune." replied the Emperor somewhat enigmatically as Owain guided Theodora to her seat.

"We're all looking forward to tomorrow very much, but I imagine that you and Mademoiselle la Princesse are looking forward to it the most, Your Majesty." Princess Helen said.

Owain smiled enigmatically at the Emperor's comment, although he said nothing in response. "The Prince of Marlund will be here tomorrow. The Emperor of Adoki, I'm given to understand, will be sending his daughter. It shall be...interesting...to meet some of our allies in that part of the world in person."

Helen blushed and looked away shyly, embarrassed that the High King hadn't deigned to respond to her attempt at conversation. Irene watched on thoughtfully as Owain discussed the visiting Ambaran leaders; Basil did so too, but nodded with interest and enthusiasm as he did so.

"It shall certainly be interesting, Your Majesty." nodded the Emperor. "May I ask after the name of the daughter of the Emperor of Adoki? I'm afraid I'm not particularly familiar with the Adoki royal family."

Vethara smiled to the Danaan officer and inclined her head slightly. “I would love to see them, euh…” The young woman paused for a second as the High Coordinator lent forward to whisper something into her ear. “… General.” Vethara added with a smile as the man behind her retook a straight position.

And as the Taraskovyans were led towards the vehicles, Vethara’s escort whispered quietly to her. “Is Her Highness sure that it was a good idea not to take a guards detail?”

“We have already come here on several occasions and no guards were needed. Besides, I believe you shall do nicely as a bodyguard.” She whispered back with a smile as the man sighed and shook his head.

***

The Taraskovyan Grand Duke in the meanwhile got off his aircraft, followed by his dignitaries and… by the seven Leib-guards. Mikhail gave a quizzical look at Colonel Nethair, who answered back with a cunning smile on his lips and the eyes which seemed to say ‘We are here to defend you and we will defend you, whether you wish it or not’. The Grand Duke, not willing to reveal the little insubordination to the locals, just grinned as he turned to look at the welcoming committee.

“We shall follow your lead, General.” Mikhail said and turned slightly towards the Colonel of the Alexander Guards. “This is Leib-guards Colonel Nethair Kiltharan, commander of the Alexander Guard Honourary Regiment, and seven members of the “Silence and Death” Battalion. They shall act as my security detail for this event.”

***

Ambassador Slavosonov smiled at the young woman as he inclined his head politely to her in sign of greeting. “I would like to know whether it would be possible to meet His Majesty the High King and whether you have seen a young man in Taraskovyan uniform with a box in his hands somewhere around here.” The man sighed and smiled. “I am afraid I have lost my adjutant.”

[OOC: Yay! Back from Kiev, so can finally post.]

A loook of budding mischief forms in Gorrm's eye as he looks skyward. "A barbeque, eh??......." His hand scritches the budding leathery tendrils below his chin. "Hmmm....I think that can be arranged. I'll have to speak to my Sire about using the Estate for a bit of a hunt and an appropo barbeque afterwards. Or perhaps even a fishing expedition out of the Palaai Coastlands? It's quite possible....."

He almost seems lost in thought, when his attention snaps back to where he is and what he's doing as his guard returns with a goblet of port. "Well, Kraah is quite formidable when he puts his mind to it in a variety of ways; his stomach being one of them. Still quite active in an advisory capacity and with his business with the honorable H'zta and all. My Sirrah, Sszeera, has been traveling the known systems in a diplomatic capacity. And if I may be so bold, her annual reports are returning poor news. Seems most civilizations are degenerating into barbaracy. A coup staged here, assassination there. Quite a maddening universe we live in." A sniff of the contents of his goblet, and a pill of some manner popped into his mouth.

"My apologies, though. I'm not usually so chatty."

Joseph walked with Anna to the chair and helped her into her seat. He turned and bowed to Lady Marissa. “A pleasure to meet you, my Lady,” he said with a smile.

Servants appeared and quietly placed additional chairs around that corner of the room, forming a loose circle.

Empress Elizabeth leaned over towards Princess Anna. “How are you, my dear?” She asked, as she laid her hand on the princess’ shoulder.

“Please have a seat, my Lady,” the Emperor said to Marissa indicating one of empty chairs.

Once Marissa was seated, the Emperor and Joseph took their seats.

“While we were waiting for the rest of the family, Lady Marissa was telling us something of our country,” the Emperor said, looking towards Joseph and Anna. Then, turning back to Marissa, he said, “Please continue, my Lady.”

* * *

Peter smiled as he felt Gwendolyn’s arm slide around his. He leaned towards her and kissed her discretely. “And I’m glad you do,” he said with a smile.

He watched her ponder his invitation to join his family for dinner with puzzlement. He arched an eyebrow. “Is there something wrong?”

"Tired, Your Majesty." Anna replied quietly to her mother-in-law with a smile. She settled into the chair and turned her attention to Marissa.

***

"I read Monsieur de Montmanuel's latest report, Your Majesty. It sounds like the reconstruction of Marlund is going along rather well." Basil commented to Owain.

Owain smiled briefly at Helen before answering the question. "Her Imperial Highness, the Princess Yuko. I have not met her in person before but she had visited Marlund and my officers have reported nothing but fond impressions."

The king turned to Basil. "My miltary commanders tell me the same thing. My social and diplomatic personell tell me that it is a very difficult and trying process."
...
Gwendolyn shook her head lightly in answer to Peter's question. "No, nothing at all. Let's go to dinner." She began to walk with him towards his family's chambers.
...
The young woman frowned slightly at Ambassador Slavosonov, thoughtfully. "Are Their Highnesses not arriving in Tarana shortly, Your Grace?"

Meanwhile, the Grand Duke and the Grand Duchess were both driven to the palace and shown to their quarters.

"Tired, Your Majesty." Anna replied quietly to her mother-in-law with a smile. She settled into the chair and turned her attention to Marissa.

Empress Elizabeth gave Anna’s arm a gentle pat. She nodded. “It is tiring. You must remember to take your rest; don’t be afraid to excuse yourself from your social obligations now and again to rest. Especially at this point, you and the baby come first, my dear.”

Gwendolyn shook her head lightly in answer to Peter's question. "No, nothing at all. Let's go to dinner." She began to walk with him towards his family's chambers.

Peter gave Gwendolyn his arm and escorted her towards the family’s apartment. “Gwendolyn,” he spoke softly as they navigated an empty corridor, “are you nervous about tomorrow?”

Morgan curtseyed to Destra with faint confusion. "I am not sure why I would have cause to be nervous, my lady."


"There are people here that, as a leader, I have looked up to since I began leading Euroslavia. That is my main cause of being nervous, because of the fact that these people, mainly the Dread Lady herself, has been very influential in my leadership of Euroslavia, despite her not knowing of it. I've always admired strong women, leading their nation to glory, and I want to do the same for my own nation."

Destra realized what she had been saying, and she turned slightly red. "My apologies. I am having a marvelous time, and I am looking forward to getting to know everyone here. I admit though, I am not the best at opening conversation with others." as she smiled.

"Thank you, Your Majesty, but I'm fine." Anna replied with a smile, and returned her attention to Marissa.

***

"Oh? How do they explain the disparity?" Basil inquired.

as an open minded cat. i respect your opinion. but nudity and rampent sex is the way of our queendom. we don't marry. i have never seen a cat in a wedding gown or tuxedo. let alone anything else but fur.

i don't understand who does the census. my country is kinda small as we are constantly reproducing. the fleas are having a ball with us. they opress us.

we have banned any dogs from entering but the still try. we have to set up very large have a heart traps. and they are dumb. we catch them every time.

http://landscaping.about.com/cs/pests/gr/Havahart%20Traps.htm

we are not computer lliterate. i am as i am the queen and deal with the entire world.

nudity is natural. and you won't catch any of us cats in a stitch of clothes. but we will wear flea collars.

Marissa made herself comfortable, in the newly offered chair. “Thank you, your Majesty.” She smiled gratefully at the Emperor before turning her attention back to the Empress and Princess Anna, who sat beside her. “Tartarus is little different from many nations, other than it is slowly coming out of the confines that had been placed on it by the Empress Gehenna’s father – who was my uncle, my mother being his sister.” She was sure that she was rambling slightly, but she assumed that it was best to give enough information for the others present to place her family circle. “Her Majesty is attended the wedding tomorrow.” She added as an after thought.

“The Empire is opening itself to the international community, working towards building better relations with those of likeminded nations. One of its biggest decisions was to join the NDA, an alliance that meets its own objectives.” She paused to check that she had not bored anyone yet. “It is certainly widening its Embassy circle. Emperor Erebus was not overly fond of external connections outside the Empire. He was not totally isolated, but he also did not greet everyone with open arms.”

She paused again. “I fear that I am not very good at selling the Empire’s best points, and it does have some.” She looked at the Empress. “My mind is so in a whirl today, I will be glad when I become more my old self again.” For a moment she wished that Owain was there with her.

"They have very different tasks." Owain said, telling Basil what he knew the man already knew. "It is my hope, however, that the one task will render the other unnecessary. A stable, self-governing Marlund capable of suppressing her own insurgents is vital to long-term regional peace."
...
"Well..." Morgan paused a moment. "I am not sure when the Imperatrice is going to meet with His Majesty but...if you wish, we could go speak with her. Often, the best way to get over being nervous about or intimidated by someone else is simply to meet them."
...
Gwendolyn nodded slightly. "Yes, I am. Who wouldn't be nervous? But woorry isn't doubt. I don't have the slightest doubt. I don't have the slightest doubt that I want to spend the rest of my life with you, to wake up next to you every morning until I day, to be the mother of your children." She blushed furiously and glanced away. "Now I'm getting all emotional." She looked up again and regained her normal composure as they arrived at the chambers.

"Indeed it is, Your Majesty." Basil nodded. "We hope that the coming elections in Pantocratorian Ambara will prove to be the an excellent example of stable, responsible, democratic self-government in the region. Once the people of Marlund see what can be achieved, once the normal course of states in the region ceases to be one of anarchy and tyranny, they will realise that stable representational government is in Ambara to stay."

"It has been a pleasure, Your Majesty." said the Emperor, rising from his seat. "Congratulations once again on your coronation and on your impending marriage."

He offered Owain his hand as the rest of the Imperial Family rose to bid the High King their farewells and best wishes for tomorrow.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Owain said as he rose and shook her Emperor's hand firmly. "Congratulations, Your Highness." he said to Theodora, smiling warmly at the young princess. He then showed the Imperial family out and had the servants remove the cart of books.
...
A servant approached Nathicana and Gormm, bowing deeply. "Begging your pardon, Your Imperial Majesties..." He then turned his attention solely to Nathicana. "His Most Esteemed High Majesty wishes the honor of your company. He would then wish to receive His Imperial Majesty of Sakkra immediately afterwards." The servant stepped back to let them tie up their conversation, waiting to lead them to the high king.
...
Karamanlis walked over to where the servant was speaking to the Tarasovkan ambassador, smiling lightly. "What she means to say is that His Majesty is rather backed up with heads of state now, including your own. However, I had actually been hoping to speak with you tonight, Your Grace."

Empress Elizabeth leaned over and gently touched Marissa’s hand. “It is quite understandable you feel a little swept up by events,” she said gently, “but I must say that on the outside, as it were, you seem quite calm and charming. Your Empire sounds like quite an interesting place. Like your home, we in Excalbia were quite content for decades to have few… diplomatic entanglements.” She smiled. “But times changes and now we find ourselves dealing with quite a few nations…”

“Hopefully,” the Emperor said, turning towards Marissa, “one day we can add Tartarus to the list of nations with whom we maintain formal relations.”

Peter put his arm around Gwendolyn’s shoulder. “I’m glad to hear that, my love. I have no doubts that I want to be with you forever.” He smiled nervously. “But I am nervous about tomorrow; I just want everything to be perfect…”

Peter let his voice trail off as they reached his uncle and aunt’s chambers. A blue uniformed guard opened the door and saluted before ushering the couple inside.

In the sitting room an Imperial Guard stepped through the door. “His Imperial Highness, Peter, Prince of Kuldiga and Her Highness, Gwendolyn, Grand Duchess of Shieldcrest.”

The Emperor and Joseph stood as Peter and Gwendolyn entered. “Welcome, your Highness,” the Emperor said with a nod. “I believe you will remember my wife, Empress Elizabeth, and I am sure you know Lady Marissa.” The Emperor gestured towards Joseph and Anna. “This is my eldest son, Prince Joseph, and my daughter-in-law, Princess Anna.” The Emperor gestured to two empty chairs. “Please join us. Dinner will be ready in a moment.”

As the Emperor spoke, Empress Elizabeth motioned to an almost unseen steward, who approached and bowed. She whispered into his ear, “Please ask Princess Rebecca, Prince James and Tariq to join us; we shall eat as soon as they arrive.”

“Yes, your Majesty,” the steward whispered as he withdrew.

A few minutes later, a door leading from the back of the apartment opened and a teenage girl in a dark rose-coloured gown entered with two younger boys. One boy, pale and blonde, pulled at his tie and looked uncomfortable in his jacket. The other, with a Mediterranean look, seemed oddly serene.

“Ah,” David said, “my two younger children – Princess Rebecca,” the girl smiled and curtsied in a rather Pantocratorian fashion, “and Prince James,” the blonde boy stiffened and bowed with a forced smile, “and my sister’s ward, Tariq of New Constantinople.” The other boy bowed with no trace of a smile on his lips.

The Empress stood. “I believe dinner is ready.” The gestured towards a set of doors that were opened on cue by the stewards. “Shall we?”

“That all sounds wonderful,” Nathi replies, then quietly sips her drink while watching Gorm as he continues. She hadn’t noticed things like the pills and all previously in other Sakkrans, but then, Gorm was one she hadn’t been around quite as much as some of the others. Something to keep in mind, regardless. She thought it rude to call attention, after all, it could be something as simple as allergies, or something to take the edge off the alcohol. She hoped it wasn’t anything to do with his health.

“No need for apologies, your Majesty. It’s a pleasure having a chance to visit, truth. Please do pass on my regards to your Sire, Sirrah, and H’zta when you see them. I’m glad the business venture has been going well – you couldn’t ask for a better partnership there.”

Another brief sip, then a commiserating nod. “I understand all too well your sentiments on the general state of things. There are times when I begin to think that sanity is becoming a rare commodity. Which reminds me … The Sslaa system. I’ve heard reports that—“

Hearing the servant approach, she murmurs a soft ‘scuse’ to Gorm, then turns to hear what they have to say, nodding once they’ve finished.

“It would seem our conversation will have to wait. It has been a pleasure, your Majesty. May you walk on warm sands,” she says, with a polite bow of equals, then turns back to the servant. “Please, lead on. It wouldn’t do to keep our host waiting.”

The Taraskovyan Ambassador inclined his head politely to Karamanlis. “I understand all this, Your Excellency. I see nothing bad in abandoning my talk with His Majesty in honour of Her Highness, yet I would still like to find my adjutant.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Now then, Your Excellency wished to talk to me?”

***

The Taraskovyan Grand Duke and his sister were safely delivered to the Palace, each by his own route. Both had many things to discuss, yet the time would come later. For the time being, they were shown to their chambers and then led towards the hall were the celebrations were in full strength.

The Imperial Family withdrew to its chambers. Later that evening, Princess Theodora sat in her nightgown by her dresser, looking into the mirror as her bridesmaid, the daughter of the Duke of the Bergetaine and a close friend since childhood, brushed her hair out for the night. Although she looked into the mirror, Theodora's gaze was faraway, and she was distant, lost in thought. She couldn't help but be a little frightened about tomorrow, about how everything would change. She'd have to move to Holista, away from her homeland and her family. No longer would she live in the odd little world of the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. She couldn't help but be a little unsettled. These thoughts were only occurring to her now; until this point her only thoughts on the subject of her marriage had been about her groom, Prince Brendan, how much she loved and adored him, how wonderful he was, how much she owed to him for rescuing her from the hell on Earth she had endured at the hands of Grand Duke Sebben and his men in Marlund, and how she planned to spend every day of the rest of her life repaying him.

"Don't worry Theodora, tomorrow will be perfect." smiled the bridesmaid, seeing the look of worry on her friend's face.

"Will it?" Theodora asked.

Although she wanted everything to be perfect, Theodora was particularly frightened about the wedding night. The thought of it brought back memories of her ordeal in the base in Marlund and made her skin crawl, even though she knew that with Brendan it would be different. Rationally she knew that Brendan would never do anything like those men had done to her, but her subconscious refused to be reasoned with, and kept throwing up the images nevertheless.

"Of course!" Isabelle de la Bergetaine said with a faint furrow of her brow. "You'll be beautiful, he'll be handsome... I'll look really pretty despite the ugly dresses you picked for us... it'll be like a fairy tale."

"Your dresses aren't ugly, Issie!" Theodora said, breaking into a half-smile.

The doors to Theodora's chamber swung open, and by the expression on the faces of both young women one might have thought that an ice cold breeze had just blown in. Standing in the doorway was Princess Irene, with a peculiar twinkle of satisfaction in her eyes, although her face was otherwise expressionless as usual. She looked down her nose at Theodora sitting by the dresser, and Theodora's smile melted away.

"Mademoiselle de la Bergetaine, what a pleasure to see you." Irene said, turning her gaze to the bridesmaid, her voice an odd parody of a kindly older woman.

"Y..Your Highness." stammered Isabelle.

"How are things going with that young gentleman of yours dear, Monsieur le Marquis de la Côte-Demetrine?" Irene asked.

"Umm... very well, mademoiselle." replied the bridesmaid, setting down the brush. "Why?"

"Oh, no reason at all." Irene replied, the twinkle of self-satisfaction burning bright in her eyes. "Monsieur de la Côte-Demetrine was just telling us all about your courtship in the lounge... I think he has had a few drinks. There were some details in his story I wasn't entirely clear on... do you know what Monsieur le Marquis meant by the term fellatio?"

Isabelle's jaw dropped and she gasped in shock and horror at the thought of what things her boyfriend was revealing to the other courtiers downstairs. Theodora looked more than a little surprised herself - had her aunt really just said that?

"Uh... Your Highnesses... will you excuse me... I've..." Isabelle started to stammer in a nervous, breathless voice.

"You can go, Issie." Theodora whispered to her friend as she stared at her aunt accusatorially.

Isabelle darted out of the room, only to be stopped by Irene clearing her voice. The panicked young woman turned around and curtsied to Irene and Theodora, even as tears welled in her eyes, before then resuming her way downstairs to the lounge. Irene's face twisted and contorted as she struggled to stop herself from smiling. She closed the doors, composed herself, and turned around to Theodora.

"Monsieur de la Côte-Demetrine really shouldn't talk about such things in public." Irene said, as she crossed the floor to stand by Theodora.

"No, he shouldn't, mademoiselle." Theodora replied, still angry at the way Irene had embarrassed Isabelle with the news of her boasting boyfriend.

"I mean, Mademoiselle de la Bergetaine's reputation is at stake. If he keeps on going on like that, she'll have to wear off-white to her wedding as well." Irene said, needling Theodora on the topic of her bridal gown. "That would be awfully humiliating."

Theodora frowned and struggled to hold her tongue. Irene picked up the hair brush and took Isabelle's place brushing Theodora's hair.

"You must be very excited about tomorrow." Irene commented.

"Yes." Theodora replied, wary that Irene was going to lead her into a trap.

"You don't sound excited, what's wrong?" Irene asked.

"Nothing." Theodora insisted.

Irene continued to brush Theodora's hair thoughtfully. Her movements were both graceful and gentle, which Theodora found very odd coming from Irene. Maybe she's trying to make up for the way she always behaves, maybe she's come to make peace before...

"Is it the awful thing that happened to you, child?" Irene asked, in a tone which was almost tender.

Tears began to well in Theodora's eyes, unprepared as she was for them. She sniffled a little and nodded.

"Yes." she admitted. "I can't stop thinking about it... every time I think of tomorrow, I remember what they did to me..."

"Oh, Theodora, don't cry, child!" Irene said in a soft voice, reaching for a handkerchief to gently wipe away the bride-to-be's tears. "It isn't your fault, any of it. You didn't ask them to do any of those things to you, they did them because they were evil people."

"I know, and I know that Brendan isn't like that..." Theodora said, regaining control of herself a little. "But I still can't help feeling... dirty... about tomorrow night."

"There there. It's only natural." Irene replied, resuming brushing Theodora's hair. "Second marriages are less honourable than the first, after all."

"Second..." Theodora started, as if suddenly jolted. "Second marriages?"

"Well, yes." Irene said, innocently, as if confused. Theodora burst out crying once again, much more than before.

"It wasn't a marriage!" Theodora managed to sob. "I wasn't married to John, he raped me, it wasn't a marriage!"

Irene just looked on, false pity on her face. She stroked Theodora's hair and held her as if comforting her. Theodora cried herself out and started to calm herself again.

"It wasn't a marriage, was it Irene? Not a real marriage?" Theodora finally squeaked. Irene looked down into her eyes for a long moment as for a split second she wondered whether she could really be so cruel to her niece.

"I'm afraid it was, my child, in the eyes of God." Irene said, a touch coldly, a touch apologetically. Theodora burst into fresh tears and spent several more minutes crying herself out again.

"How can Brendan want someone like me?" Theodora asked, her voice extremely strained by emotion. "He deserves someone so much better, not me...."

"He does." Irene nodded, twisting the knife again. She still held Theodora and made comforting noises as she cried.

"Please Irene..." Theodora pleaded. "How can he want someone like me, even with... even though... how?"

Irene opened her mouth to speak, but then frowned when she couldn't think of a reply which would give the knife another turn. She thought about it for a few moments and was left with one inescapable conclusion.

"He must love you." Irene replied, as if disappointed in herself.

"He must, mustn't he?" Theodora smiled through her tears at the thought. "He really must, it can't just be pity, he wouldn't feel any sense of obligation to me after rescuing me... even after what they did to me he must love me, mustn't he?"

"Yes." Irene said, her lip curling involuntarily. "Even after the forced marriage, even after the depravity they forced you to engage in..."

"Even after all that." Theodora concluded, smiling through the tears as if finding Irene's attempts to upset her further comforting.

"Yes..." Irene muttered.

"Thank you so much, Irene." Theodora smiled in gratitude, hugging her aunt tightly. "I really needed someone to reassure me."

"...you're... you're welcome." Irene replied, shocked that that was the effect her efforts had had. As if in a daze, she patted Theodora on the back of her head as she hugged her tightly, and then slowly withdrew from Theodora and then the room.

"Thank you for reminding me how wonderful Brendan is, Irene." Theodora reiterated as she got up and finished wiping the tears from her face. "Good evening, mademoiselle."

"Good evening, mademoiselle." Irene replied, still a little shocked. The pair curtsied and she withdrew from the room and closed the door behind her. What just happened?

Prince Ulrich, a man of about thirty or so, reentered the room in the company of his wife Christina. The two had left their daughter, the six-year old Hermine, in the company of her nurse for the rest of the evening. Christina, a smiling blond a couple years her husband's junior, was speaking to him quietly. It would be rather hard for anyone else to understand as the couple seemed to switch between German, French, Italian, and Dutch in a casual and almost effortless manner. It had taken a lifetime as courtiers to form multi-lingual speech patterns which would sound less like a crude mush and more like they were simply talking over the heads of everyone around them. However, they had had such a life.

However, as soon as they entered the throne room proper, they switched to English and continued on in that language for the rest of the evening. "...simply wonderful, Your Highness. I believe that we must have Welsh food more often at our court."

"I will consider it..." Ulrich answered his wife, in a tone indicating her had no desire whatsoever tp consider any such thing. He guided her towards Vethara, for no better reason than that he sought someone of suitable rank to make small talk with. Ulrich bowed and Christina curtsied. "Good evening, Your Highness."

Marissa smiled at the Empress as they rose for dinner. “It is so nice to be able to meet your family.” She gave each of the newcomers a smile and a few words of greeting. She turned briefly to Emperor David. “I am sure that her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna would be delighted to build formal relations with Excalbia. The fact that your own nation is following the same path as Tartarus would add strongly to her desire. She is to attend the wedding tomorrow, perhaps I may approach her with the idea?”

Smiling at Gwendolyn, the only person she had any prior interaction with, Marissa found herself relaxing as she focused on her future sister-in-law. The eyes twinkled as she watched the young couple in each other’s company, and suddenly wished that she had Owain with her, sharing this last evening before their wedding. But she knew that he was busy building relations with other nations. Her own relation building with him would continue the following day, when she vowed to spend her life with him, loving him.

She waited and followed as the party moved through to dinner, looking forward to a pleasant evening with some people she hoped would become good friends.

“We are pleased that you could join us, my Lady,” the Empress said.

The Emperor smiled and nodded and Marissa spoke of formal relations. “That would be very kind of you, my Lady,” David said. “Perhaps while her Imperial Majesty is here we could arrange a meeting with her. It would be a nice bonus, if you will, to leave this happy occasion with a new friend in the international arena.”

Elizabeth led the way into the dining room. A large table was covered in fine linen and set with exquisite china and silver. The Emperor stood at the head of the table. He gestured for Gwendolyn to take the seat to his right and for Marissa to take the one to the left. Peter took the place next to Gwendolyn and Empress Elizabeth to the place beside Marissa. Anna and Joseph were place next to Elizabeth, while Rebecca was beside Peter and James and Tariq were at the other end of the table.

As everyone remained standing the Emperor said, “As is our family custom, let us give thanks to the Lord.” He bowed his head and recited a short prayer of thanks and blessing. Then, he motioned for the ladies to be seated. He immediately followed suit and the other men and boys took their seats.

Servants moved about the table laying out plates of green salad. Other servants filled each glass – except those of Rebecca, James and Tariq – with wine. After everyone had been served, the Emperor raised his glass. “To the Grand Duchess Gwendolyn, who tomorrow shall become a most worthy addition to our family, and to the Lady Marissa, who has already become a new and valued friend of our family.”

Everyone drank to the toast.

Gwendolyn, again, waved off the wine when it was offerred to her and had the servants bring her water instead. She sat at the Emperor's gesture and smiled as she was toasted, looking down briefly. "The honor is mine, I assure you."
...
"I did." Karamanlis answered the duke. "I understand that your country has recently been through rather great changes, as ours has?"
...
Nathicana was shown in to High King Owain. He immediately stood when the lady entered, smiling good-naturedly. He kissed the air just above her hand, without touching the skin, if it was offerred and let it be if it was not.

"Your Imperial Majesty, please..." He gestured her to a chair before sitting himself. "I am glad you were able to attend in person. We certainly value our friendly relationship with you and your country a great deal."

Marissa found the idea of saying a prayer before dinner slightly strange, but she knew that it was probably something that she would have to get used to, having converted to Owain’s faith for her marriage. Her life in Tartarus had been devoid of religion, not that the nation did not believe in god, it just did not allow the worship of one. An Emperor in its past had forbidden religion, for reasons that were long forgotten.

“It is a pleasure for me to be so openly welcomed into your friendship, and I hope that it is one that lasts for a very long time.” Sitting and lifting her glass for the toast, Marissa smiled at Emperor David, happy to find herself seated beside the Empress, who she seemed to find it easy to converse with. She took a sip and lowered her glass to the table, her eyes wandering around the Excalbian family. As much as she was considered a friend, she felt a little out of place around a family table. And even though Gwendolyn was not yet an official part of the family, she was still not the stranger that Marissa herself was.

She turned to Anna and smiled. “May I ask when the joyful event is to take place?” In some places, discussing pregnancy was not the done thing at the table, but she hoped that Excalbians were not ones who followed this tradition. Her eyes flicked briefly to Empress Elizabeth checking for signs that she had not spoken out of place.

"Very... very soon." Anna answered with a smile, resting her hands on her pregnant stomach. She reached one of her hands over to Joseph and held his hand. "I'm due later this month so really it could be any time. In all honesty... I hope it's straight after we get back home..."

She glanced over at Joseph and stopped talking about how much she just wanted it to be over already, and blushed slightly because she didn't feel she had been entirely appropriate.

Princess Yuko slipped into the Throne Room and stood quietly and demurely. She waited to see who would wish to speak to her.

Prince Hermann slipped quietly into the throne room, his distinguished form taking up a place near the back where he watched the proceedings. He smiled reservedly at Princess Yuko, the only person in the room he recognized. He then turned his gaze around the room, trying to recognize the various dignitaries from the photographs and descriptions he had seen. He hoped they wouldn't judge him by his nation's sordid past.

Hermann could still remember when any member of the Marlund government would have been sworn to shoot Yuko on site. In fact, it wasn't that long ago. Now, here he was, in a room with the Adoki princess as well as other world leaders of every color, people, creed, and language, smiling politely. It was almost amazing how far Ambara had come and so fast. He merely hoped that he and the other leaders on the continent, including High King Owain, could maintain the newly formed peace and move forward with an effective movement of reconciliation.

Marissa gave Anna a smile, hoping that it covered her shock that she had travelled so close to the birth of her child. “And is this your first child?” She enquired, wishing to gain some little knowledge about the people she was with. Once she got her wedding out of the way, she would put her mind to learning more about the people her husband to be was associated with.

From the brief look around the table, she had to assume that Anna and Joseph were the only married members of the family, other than the Emperor and Empress. And it was altogether possible that they may not have been married long enough to have any more children. And talking about family seemed a very good route to take, rather than moving on to things like politics. The last thing she would want would be to embarrass herself, Owain and the Resurgent Dream by saying something that could be offensive.

Nathicana graciously offered her hand and returned the courtesy with a polite nod of recognition of equals. Accepting the offered chair, she settled herself comfortably, and smiled.

"Bene grazie, your Majesty. It is a pleasure to be here. Please accept my condolensces on the difficulties your nation has endured of late. I hope that the future holds a less tumultuous path for you and your people. We too value the relationship our nations have shared, both in business and otherwise."

She didn't mention her own more personal attachments. It was neither the time nor place, and having already having had to deal with them earlier, she had no real desire to repeat the uncomfortable discussion.

“If the return to the old times is great changes, than my country certainly did go through them. Your country, however, had to endure hardships of a different sort and my congratulations go to your people for enduring them.” Slavosonov smiled as he glanced around and picked two goblets of wine from a passing waiter. He offered one to the Prime Minister. “It is a great pleasure to see an Orthodox rise to the rank of Prime Minister in this realm. To your success!”

***

Vethara inclined her head politely to Ulrich and Christina, proceeding to greet them in Taraskovyan fashion. “And a good evening to you, My Lord.” She smiled a little as her eyes looked warmly at the couple. “I beg forgiveness, but I have to admit that you have me at a disadvantage, for I do not remember your exact identity.”

***

The Grand Duke of all Taraskovya, in company of the two Speakers of Parliament, commander of the Leib-guards and seven of those leib-guards arrived at the palace, his mind full of various thoughts. First of all, there were some rulers he’d have to meet. Secondly, no… First of all, he’ll have to meet his sister and solve the awkward situation the Grand Ducal family was in. Secondly, he’d have to meet with some rulers. Thirdly, just enjoy himself (and that was surely the simplest part, depending on what entertainment the locals had to offer).

All in all, it was to be a good night and an excellent night. And he was already looking forward to how the foreigners would react to the coming of a 'deadman'.

"Well..." Morgan paused a moment. "I am not sure when the Imperatrice is going to meet with His Majesty but...if you wish, we could go speak with her. Often, the best way to get over being nervous about or intimidated by someone else is simply to meet them."

"That's a great idea." spoke Destra. "I'd be glad to talk to her, that is, after she is finished with her meeting with His Majesty." as she smiled as wide as possible.

Things were going as planned, and hopefully, she would get to meet the Dread Lady, as well as some of the other guests in the room. The more that she could greet, the better. This was grounds for the possibility of many friendships to come, and Destra couldn't pass this opportunity up.

"I'm Ulrich, Prince of Zutern." Ulrich said in a slightly surprised tone. "This is my wife, the Princess Christina."

Christina smiled brightly. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highness."

"Yes, this will be our first." Anna nodded. "We've only been married for eighteen months... give or take. I take it you and the King are looking forward to starting a family of your own?"

The look on Anna's face suggested a sort of naivety, as if the thought didn't occur to her that anybody couldn't look forward to doing so, even though at this particular juncture she could certainly understand some hesitation in a woman about the thought of getting pregnant.

“Thank your, my Lady,” the Emperor said, “we certainly hope that this will be the beginning of a long-lasting friendship.” David sipped his wine and smiled.

Joseph held Anna’s hand as she spoke of the pregnancy and how anxious she was for it to be over. He told tell she was embarrassed by letting that fact slip. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. He knew these last few weeks had difficult for her and he realized that it was only natural that she wanted the natural process to come to its conclusion. In fact, he was growing anxious to welcome his new child into the world.

Morgan nodded. "She is an impressive lady. I have heard some of her, although I have not met her either.
...
Karamanlis accepted the glass. "Thank you." She raised it to toast before commenting "While there are a number of Orthodox Chiefs of Government in the world, it is my understanding that I am the only one in a predominantly Protestant country." She shrugged lightly.
...
Owain inclined his head to Nathicana's words. "It is certainly a difficult time for our country. Fortunately, people seem to be moving on with their lives with a steadfast optimism so far."

"They say what does not kill us makes us stronger, at least in the case of those who have the will to press on rather than despair," she replies. "I'm glad at least that this is the case with you and yours. Commendable, that."

Yuko frowned ever so slightly as she looked up to survey the room. It was surprisingly empty at the moment. The Pantocratorians weren't there. The Excalbians weren't there. The Tartarans weren't there. She assumed they were either at dinner or already retired for the evening. She had seen the Dominion Imperatrice, who had just stepped out, she assumed to meet with the High King.

After a moment, Yuko's eyes alighted on Destra and Morgan. She started that way for the simple reason that, as other women, there was no impropriety in her approaching them. She bowed politely and smiled faintly. "My ladies, good evening. I seem to be rather the late arrival. I had not known that everyone would retire quite so early."

Her Highness's personal guards followed her with their eyes, although they stayed positioned unobtrusively in the background, simply watching the scene for now.

Prince Andreus, having left the Empress in her suite, had decided to return to mingle with the other guests. His eyes passed about the room, regarding some of the women with particular approval. He approached Destra, Morgan and Yuko, and bowed with practised courtesy.

"Mesdemoiselles, I fear that I must have missed you all earlier - an unconscionable error on my part." he said with a charming smile. "Pardon me for interrupting. Please permit me to introduce myself, I am Andreus, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, and Prince Consort of the Empress of Lavenrunz."

Destra took a bow very politely, and smiled towards Andreus.

"It's very nice to meet you Andreus. I am Lady Destra nos Thiendrel, Leader of Euroslavia. My ....late arrival was probably the cause of not too many people noticing that I had arrived in the first place. That would be my fault. Perhaps next time, I'll be more aware of time." as she gave a small chuckle. "I'm having a marvelous time so far though. It's amazing to see so many different cultures within one room, with each person representing their nation. That is one thing I would never pass up, examining different cultures, and their customs in interaction with those that differ from theirselves."

Morgan curtsied politely to Andreus and Yuko and offerred her hand, palm down. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Your Highnesses." she said with a bright smile. She arched a brow ever so faintly at Destra, though she said nothing.
...
Owain inclined his head to Nathicana's words. "Thank you for your words, lady. I am inclined to agree. Of course...they do not apply to everyone who was effected by the tragedy."
...
Gwendolyn sat with the Excalbians, listening quietly to the conversation between Marissa and Anna.
...
Lavinia and her family heard a soft knock at the door of their chambers.
...
Annette smiled slightly to herself after leaving the Pantocratorian Imperial family before going off towards the entrance of the palace, looking for her husband.

Prince Hermann slipped quietly into the throne room, his distinguished form taking up a place near the back where he watched the proceedings. He smiled reservedly at Princess Yuko, the only person in the room he recognized. He then turned his gaze around the room, trying to recognize the various dignitaries from the photographs and descriptions he had seen. He hoped they wouldn't judge him by his nation's sordid past.

Kira drifted around the edge of the throne room. There wasn't any reason for her to get involved in any of the conversations; her attire did not attract particular attention, as was intended, indirectly. An alchemist uniform was based on old military designs; the High 'King' of Weyr could have passed for a second lieutenant in full dress. What a second lieutenant would be doing at a coronation and not one but three weddings was a different question. Kira didn't think about it much; she was there ... because she was invited. After Scarlet had to quietly leave because of certain problems that in an embassy run by half a dozen people required her presence, she was also completely alone. Thus, she was bored.

She absently occupied herself with slowly observing the other guests, and by wondering whether anything else was to happen tonight. There were people whom she couldn't identify. One of them looked like he wasn't doing anything. She figured she might as well do something diplomatic. Scratching briefly behind a very long, pointed ear, she made her meandering approach. Maybe the poor bastard would acquire better company than her attempt at conversation.

"So, how's life?" asked she, coming over to stand beside Hermann. Her sharp, green eyes glinted; she wondered what his response would be.

Marissa smiled, which grew as she watched the way Joseph took his wife’s hand. “I wish you the most joy and happiness with the birth of your child.” She looked slightly taken aback by Anna’s question. “I have to admit that children have not really been high on my list at the moment. The wedding itself is taking a lot of my thoughts and time. Of course, I would like to have children.” She stopped for a moment, realising she was waffling slightly.”

She let her eyes flick around the table briefly, settling them upon the Emperor, giving him a very pleasant smile. “I know that today will remain for a long time in my memory, not only for the coronation and the wedding, but also for the kindness that your Majesty and your family have shown me.”

* * * * *

“Oh, Val, it is so very good of you to come and say hello.” Lady Lavinia smiled as she wrapped her arms around her nephew. “I hope that you did not leave Gehenna to face all those people on her own.”

Lord Stratton laughed. “Aunt, I believe that Gehenna is more than capable to deal with anyone on her own.” He looked into the woman’s eyes, with a twinkle. “I left her with Lord Daniels, who I am sure, is more than able to make sure that she does not feel lonely.”

“Val!” Lavinia admonished with a giggle.

Looking around him, Val gave a few words of greeting to the other members of the family, before walking his aunt over to a chair. “Shall we sit?”

“Lizzie, get Val something to drink.” She called over to her daughter, who was sitting at a table, reading a newspaper. “Brandy or Scotch, Val?” She enquired of the young man.

Val looked over at his cousin, who had looked up from her reading. “Scotch,” he said with a smile. “Just as it comes.”

Elizabeth walked over to the drinks and poured Lord Stratton a liberal glass, and wandered over to where he was standing, presenting him with the drink. “Do you not need a clear head for all of this diplomatic business?” She grinned playfully.

Shaking his head, Val chuckled. “Gehenna is dealing with the diplomacy, I’m just here to see Issi finally tied down.” His eyes once more found Lavinia’s face. “How is she coping?”

It was Lady Devenish’s turn to shake her head. “Who knows with Issi? She’ll just play a part and appear happy and relaxed. I just hope no on upsets her, you know what she is like.”

“Don’t we?” Elizabeth scoffed.

“Now, be nice, Beth. This is your sister’s big day after all, she has a right to be a little on edge.” Lavinia patted the couch beside where she had seated herself. “Come and sit, Val, and tell me all that you know.”

Just as he was about to settle himself down, a knock at the door drew all their attention.

“Beth, can you see who that is?” Lavinia frowned, wondering who could be calling to visit them.

Walking over to the door, Elizabeth pulled it open. Smiling, she looked at the new arrival.

* * * * *

Wandering through the crowds, Empress Gehenna let her gaze wander around those present, recognising a few. She turned to Balion and smiled, happy that he had agreed to accompany her to the event. She did not like to burden him with her life, yet at the same time she liked to share it with him.

“This is certainly a large turnout. It appears that The Resurgent Dream is viewed favourably by more than a few nations.” She once more let her gaze drift over those present. “I hope that we have the chance to perhaps improve our own relations with some of those present.”

* * * * *

Ambassador Helena Frewin walked around the party of people, stopping every now and then as she was approached or had approached someone. She shared a few words before continuing through the throng, milling around and general doing her job.

Gwendolyn listened intently to Marissa, smiling ever so slightly, although she was silent for the moment. She was thinking about something or other rather distractedly, or at least giving that impression.
...
Duchess Ygraine, Marissa's future mother-in-law, smiled down at Elizabeth. She looked to be in her mid-sixties and her face showed a few lines but couldn't exactly be called wrinkled. Her eyes, however, seemed sad and listless, even in her happiest moments, as they had since her husband had passed away. "You must be Lady Elizabeth?" she confirmed. "Is your mother or father here?"
...
Helena Frewin found herself plenty of people to speak with, mostly Members of Parliament and low-ranking officials of the Foreign Ministry. All of them wanted to discuss closer formal relations of some sort or another as a possible result of the royal marriage. All of them made it clear they didn't have the authority to speak for their government and were just making small talk. It might really just have been small talk or someone with real authority in these matters might have asked friends and underlings to put out some non-committal feelers.

Joseph, still holding Anna’s hand, looked towards Marissa. “When the moment is right, my Lady, I am sure you and His Majesty will turn your thoughts to starting a family. Such a moment may come unexpectedly,” the prince smiled at Anna, “but when it comes, you will know it is the right time.”

Across the table, Peter reached for Gwendolyn’s hand. He leaned towards her and whispered in her ear, “Is everything alright, my love?”

The Emperor glanced at his nephew as he leaned towards Gwendolyn, then turned to look at Marissa. “We are pleased to have you with us this, my Lady. Especially on such a joyous occasion. And, you will soon be the sister-in-law of Her Highness,” he nodded to Gwendolyn, “who shall soon be my niece.” David smiled. “That practically makes you family, my Lady.”

Elizabeth smiled and nodded in agreement, then looked across the table at Gwendolyn. “How are you holding up, my dear? Tomorrow is quite a big day. Are you anxious? I suspect Peter is…”

Peter smiled, trying to hide a slight blush.

Owain inclined his head to Nathicana's words. "Thank you for your words, lady. I am inclined to agree. Of course...they do not apply to everyone who was effected by the tragedy."

"They never do," Nathi replies with a regretful smile. "Still, nothing to do but go on, one supposes. Was there something your Majesty wished to address in particular this evening?"

"Nothing in particular, lady." Owain answered Nathicana. "I merely wished to make the personal aquaintance of such a valued friend of my country. Besides which, not setting aside time to speak to you in person after you'd come all this way would have been quite ungentlemanly of me."
...
Gwendolyn shook her head slightly to Peter's whispered question before turning to Elizabeth. She smiled ever so faintly. "I'm somewhat anxious. However, I have been waiting for this day since I first saw His Highness. It should not be too difficult to wait just a few more hours."

Gorrm gave a slight bow as the Dread Lady made her exit towards here audience. I know she was going to ask of the 'incident' at the Sslaa System, and what it portents. I'll remember to draft up an official communique for her perusal.

He swished his glass before quaffing the contents, then looked over to the guard attending him. "Inform the ship to get in touch with Jouuha. I'll need him to look over the datta from Vubz as soon as it is compiled." The guard gave a nod and tapped his earbud, mumbling into it.

Yuko also curtsied and offered her hand to Andreus, as Morgan had. She smiled ever so lightly. "It is a pleasure, Your Highness."

A charming, seductive smile spread across Prince Andreus' face as he accepted and kissed first Morgan's hand, then Yuko's, giving each royal a meaningful glance as he did so.

"Indeed not, mademoiselle." he replied to Destra. "I have always found... mingling with other cultures fascinating."

It was clear from the emphasis that Andreus' idea of mingling may have involved different elements than Destra's.

***

"Don't forget, you shouldn't see His Highness after midnight, mademoiselle." Anna said to Gwendolyn with a slight smile. "It's bad luck to see each other on the day of the wedding before the ceremony!"

She turned to Marissa and nodded, still smiling.

"You too, mademoiselle. Make sure not to see His Majesty before the wedding!" she instructed.

"I'm honored that you would take the time to see me, considering your busy schedule, Your Majesty. It does my heart good to know that the opinions we have of your nation are shared," she said with a smile, and gracious nod of her head. "In consideration of the troubles you've had, is there anything we might offer in assistance? I realize we lack the means to help in a more meaningful way, as in finding a solution - being quite unfamiliar with the powers at work - but still, I would like to offer something. It is the least we could do."

Owain frowned thoughtfully as he considered Nathicana's question. "I am grateful for your offer and I would accept were there anything I could think of which might be of help. The problem is that most of those who were materially effected are no longer within the range of help. For those remaining, the problem is largely an issue of adjusting, dealing with the loss, and returning to normalcy."
...
Morgan blushed ever so faintly at Andreus's implications. "I do hope you and Her Imperial Majesty are enjoying your visit to our nation, Your Highness."
...
Gwendolyn nodded to Anna's words with a warm smile. "I shall endeavor not to forget, Your Highness. Fortunately, I think we have a few hours left."

She smiled lightly as she considered. "Still, it is hard to imagine how a marriage to such a man could be unlucky under any circumstances!" She grinned brightly over at Peter.

Archduchess Vethara and Grand Duke Mikhail II

Vethara inclined her head in acknowledgement and smiled as her eyes quickly glanced about, as if searching for somebody, before instantly returning back to the princely couple. “It is an honour to meet you.” She smiled back at Christina just as the man Vethara came with to the event, walked slowly up to the little group, bowing slightly to the couple.

“Prince Ulrich, Princess Christina,” Vethara addressed the two in turn, “this is Kshas-Ker, a loyal servant and friend of mine.”

“I am honoured to me you, your Highnesses.”

Just at this moment, other people join the group, amongst them none else than the Grand Duke of all Taraskovya himself. He smiled as he reached for Vethara’s hand and kissed it lightly, before the woman had any time to react. Mikhail then turned to Ulrich and Christina.

“Unless my memory betrays me, I am blessed with the company of the princely couple of Zutern. Nice to meet you.”

Vethara, in the meantime, gathered her spirits after such a sudden encounter and, withdrawing her hand, narrowed her eyes as she looked at Mikhail, before her eyes widened as they fell upon Mikhail’s companion – the commander of the Leib-guards. Nethair smiled brightly at the one he had been protecting for so long as Vethara blinked and smiled back, forcing herself not to embrace the man.

“It is a pleasant surprise to meet you here.” Vethara said with a smile as she looked suspiciously at Mikhail.

“Not really, we have somehow been invited, too.” Mikhail shrugged. “So I’ve decided to settle some standing issues while at it.”


Ambassador Slavosonov

“As far as I know, that is correct.” The Ambassador nodded, sipping on his drink. “But allow me to break the joyous mood for a second and ask your Excellency something quite serious. Now that the Grand Duke is back, shall your nation continue to recognize Her Highness as the ruler of Tarasovka?” He smiled brightly and laughed lightly. “I should know who I am to represent, shouldn’t I?”


Speakers of Parliament

The Dukes Khaor and Alexei, respectively speakers of the Duma and of the Senate, wandered about the party, talking between themselves and sharing a couple words with those who wished to have a talk.

Yuko flushed visibly under Andreus's glance. She averted her eyes and did not meet his gaze. "If Your Highnesses will excuse me, I do believe that I should retire for the evening. Tomorrow is to be a rather eventful day." She curtsied to Destra, Andreus, and Morgan, and, assuming none of them objected, made her way out of the Throne Room.

The guards accompanying her slipped out of the crowd and took up positions behind her. The entire procession was expressionless. In Yuko's case, the impression created was one of royal serenity. The guards, on the other hand, looked stern and perhaps a little mean. They were certainly not men one would expect to have modern sensitivities.

Yuko paused near the door, and looked expectantly between Grand Duke Mikhail, Prince Ulrich, and Emperor Gormm. However, she left before any of the three men could speak to her or approach her, leaving her meaning for them to decipher if they wished.

Andreus' eyes follow Yuko as she left, settling on her swaying backside until the guards got in the way of the view. He turned his attention back to Destra and Morgan with a charming, vaguely mischievous smile.

"I'm enjoying it very much, mademoiselle." Andreus replied to Morgan's earlier comment in a velvety voice. He gave each woman a wink. "Especially now."

Nathi nodded in understanding. “I had expected as much. Still, when one sees friends in need, one hopes to at least offer. May you and your people find the strength to work through their grief and eventually move on,” she said sincerely. “And please, if something does present itself that we can be of assistance with, do not hesitate to ask.”

“I know your schedule is a busy one, from experience. If there is nothing else, perhaps I should take my leave and let you get back to the rest of your guests. It has been an honor to meet and speak with you, Your Majesty. Again, my thanks for your time, and for your gracious invitation here.”

Owain nodded as he rose. "Thank you for coming, Your Majesty." He politely saw Nathicana to the door.
...
Morgan turned and followed Yuko briefly with her eyes before returning her gaze to Andreus. "Your father will here from her father about that, you know?" she confirmed with a small smile.
...
Ulrich and Christina glanced to the servant. They then looked slightly taken aback as Grand Duke Mikhail arrived in the small conversation cluster, bowing and curtseying to him as they had with Vethara. "Indeed, Your Highness. The honor is ours, of course."
...
Karamanlis frowned slightly. "You believe it likely that they shall continue to make rival, competing claims for the title?"
...
A page approached Emperor Gorm, bowing deeply. "Your Imperial Majesty, His Most Esteemed High Majesty would be honored to meet with you now."

"I beg your pardon?" Andreus asked, smiling broadly, his perfect teeth gleeming. "Whatever do you mean, mademoiselle?"

Archduchess Vethara and Grand Duke Mikhail

The Grand Duke inclined his head in acknowledgement to the princely couple and smiled slightly before looking back at his sister and to her companion. “You know, my friend, the NashSec looks like an orphan without you. I surely hope you will be back on board soon.” He said with a grin as ‘Kshas-Ker’ grinned back, without saying a word.

“Now, sister, if you wish so and the Prince and his most charming spouse,” Mikhail smiled as he glanced at the princely couple, “allow so, I would wish to talk to you in private concerning some matters that involve our little Grand Duchy.”

His eyes followed Yuko for a second, yet he decided that he had slightly more important things to do at the moment than run after pretty girls that had just shared a talk with Andreus of New Constantinople. Just a tiny bit more important, really, only a matter of national importance.

***

Ambassador Slavosonov

“They are doing so even now. Her Highness did not renounce her claim to the Sword, yet the Sword is wielded by His Highness.” The Ambassador smiled. “I surely hope that the two will meet during this event and discuss the issue.”

She curtsied gracefully on leaving, and accepted Mas’ arm as he offered it once she’d stepped outside. “All well, m’lady?” he asked quietly, receiving a brief nod in return.

“All as well as can be expected,” she said with a soft sigh, gesturing him to lead on. “Lets head back at least for a moment to the others. There were a few I’d hoped to at least meet with briefly should the opportunity arises.”

“Anything you say, boss,” Mas replied lightly, guiding them both back to the rest of the party.

Ulrich inclined his head to Mikhail's request. "Of course. We would hardly wish to stand in the way of such pressing business."
...
Karamanlis inclined her head. "I am aware they are doing so now. However, it was my hope that the situation would change after their meeting here." she clarified.
...
"The Adoki do not take well to having their Imperial Family insulted, Your Highness." Morgan answered.