NationStates Jolt Archive

Gorrm snapped to attention at the address of the page. "Ah, good good. Lead the way, if you please." A motioning arm gives the 'after you'.

"I did nothing of the sort, and I must say, I don't take well to being insulted either, mademoiselle." Andreus replied, the smile fading. He glanced at Destra apologetically. "I hope both you ladies have a pleasant evening."

He bowed politely to each, stiffly but politely to Morgan, charmingly to Destra, and then withdrew. Seeing Nathicana and Mas returning from their visit with the High King, Andreus moved in their direction.

Destra wasn't exactly sure of what to say at this point. She never expected to see such an event occur at such a glorious time, with the tomorrow being what she was very excited for. Destra looked back towards Morgan, with a confused look on her face, and she whispered, "Is he always like this?" in a serious, yet ironic manner.

Morgan shook her head. "I do not know. I have never met him before, nor do I intend to voluntarily subject myself to his company after this."
...
As Andreus moved through the assorted dukes and counts and princes, most of them looked at him like a dog that just pooped on their shoe more than like a prince. It was clear that his behavior, always rakish, had crossed some invisible line of Danaan protocol, a line which excused them from the normal courtesies of rank. It went beyond the people who actually could have heard what was said in a strange kind of chain reaction, each person taking on the indignation of their neighbor. It was one of those things someone who hadn't spent their life in a court would find truly odd.

Prince Ulrich, having just taken his leave of Mikhail and Vethara, responding to Yuko's glance and now to what he could hear of the prince's words, moved into his path as he made his way towards the Imperatrice. Princess Christina waited off to the side, looking nervous.

Countess Marian, one of the very few friendly faces left in the room, moved swiftly to the prince's side. "What exactly did you do, Andre?" she asked in a worried tone.
...
The page led Gorm to the High King's office. Owain rose immediately as the Sakkran entered. "Thank you for coming, Your Majesty."

Gorrm offered a short bow. "It is my pleasure and honor to be here this day, your Majesty. Our peoples have had arms-length contact with each other in the past. I hope my presence here will lead to an amendment of this state of affairs."

"Some harmless flirting. Evidently, not as harmless as intended." Andreus replied quietly to Marian, observing the reactions of the courtiers from the corner of his eye.

"Well, I get that that's why the Princess left. The Adoki are very sensitive about those things. What'd you do to Her Royal Highness?" Marian asked, assuming it was something pretty bad.

"Nothing. Spoilt little brat insulted me. I excused myself and now I'm on my way to speak to the Imperatrice over there." Andreus replied at a murmur.

"André, it's me." she said, on the assumption he was lying.

"I can recognise you, you know Mari, I have seen you since the Shattering." Andreus replied, now getting a little annoyed. "She dared to reprimand me for flirting with Princess Yuko, as if it were her place to do so. I let her know that I found her assessment insulting, and now I'd really like to be able to talk to the Imperatrice before somebody else beats me to it..."

Marian sighed heavily. "Don't call her a spoiled brat. People are being very patient but your behaviour really is crossing a lot of lines here and you're in danger of doing very serious diplomatic damage to your father and your wife."

"We wouldn't want that." Andreus replied.

Marian nodded. "I don't think Morgan's mad. Everyone else seems to be mad on her behalf though. Like Prince Caveman up there." She was, naturally, speaking well below her breath. "But I think she was trying to warn you too."

"Warn me of what? Diplomatic damage?" Andreus rolled his eyes, continuing at a quiet murmur. "Girls her age get upset by the stupidest things, in five minutes even the most indignant of these courtiers will have forgotten all about it, and nobody is going to consider that the ego of a twenty one year old Grand Duchess was bruised in a brief conversation with me when dealing with Pantocratoria. Or Lavenrunz for that matter."

"I just said I did NOT think she was upset, André." Marian repeated.

"All the more reason why there will be no diplomatic damage." Andreus replied.

"André, do you trust me?" Marian asked.

"Mari, you're my most valued advisor." Andreus smiled, a playful twinkle almost re-appearing in his eye.

"Fix it after you talk to the Imperatrice, all right?" she said hopefully.

"Fix it how? None of these people have any idea what they're actually mad about. Her Highness herself isn't upset, by your observation, and apologising to her wouldn't do anything to cool them down. Time will heal all wounds, you'll see." Andreus said, giving Marian a wink.

"Not by apologising. Just go back over there and be civil so people can see nothing really happened." Marian said, looking around with a vaguely annoyed air. Such a large percentage of courtiers seemed to be idiotic lemmings. It was almost like being in Pantocratoria.

"Of course." Andreus smiled. "Why don't you go and talk to them, I'll join you in a few minutes?"

He left Marian and made his way over to Nathicana.

Marian nodded. "Yes, sir." She turned and made her way over to Destra and Morgan.

"Your Majesty, good evening." he said in English with only the smallest hint of a French-Pantocratorian accent, and bowed with a flourish. "I have not yet had the pleasure of meeting you. I am Prince Andreus, Despot of New Constantinople, Dauphin of Viennois, and Prince Consort of Lavenrunz. Since they have both already retired for the evening, allow me to convey to Your Majesty the compliments and salutations of my wife, Her Majesty the Empress of Lavenrunz, and my father, His Majesty the Emperor of Pantocratoria. They both hold you and your Dominion in high esteem."

Owain, after returning the greeting, remained standing as he could see no place where he could invite his fellow sovereign to sit comfortably. "It is certainly my hope as well. I must confess to knowing relatively little of your culture but what I do know I admire. For example, I understand that you consider it the fundamental precept of civilized human life that the stronger protects the weaker?"
...
Marian curtsied to Destra and Morgan as she arrived. "My ladies, I hope that my lord did not cause you undue distress."

Morgan smiled slightly, despite her words of but a moment ago. "It is but a small matter, Your Excellency. But a small matter." She frowned slightly as she glanced off. "I only hope the Adoki can be persuaded to see it likewise."
...
Ulrich returned to his wife's side, taking her arm. He didn't comment on the matter or on what he had been planning to do.

Gorrm noticed Owain look about, and lowered his tail, then stiffened it. One leg went to the side slightly for balance and comfort, in essence making him appear to sit where there was no chair.

One eye glanced about the chamber casually, taking in the surroundings while the other looked at Owain. "Yes, we do find that to indeed be a fundamental precept towards the bettering of human civilization. Strength is measured more than by physical power after all." He seemed to rock back on his tail a bit. "If not, human society would descend into tribal barbarism. This is, of course, not to be confused with protecting the individual from themself."

Owain sat then, smiling faintly. "It is a common trait of fundamental, societal precepts, that they are both more nuanced and more extensive in meaning, the more one looks at them." He considered his words a moment. "I would certainly say that that particular principle is also one cherished by the Danaan people. It is especially cherished in the orders of chivalry to which many members of the gentry belong."

He shrugged his shoulders, as though shrugging off such a philosophic topic of conversation. "We would also wish more contact with the Sakkran people. We are, of course, proud to be allied with Your Majesty through VERITAS. However, experience has also taught us that nothing is so important to friendly relations as direct contact. People wish well towards those they know, to those who are real to them as persons rather than abstract others." Owain took another pause, shifting his hand slightly on his desk. "It would hardly be fitting to enter into a detailed discussion of such possibilities in this venue. However, I do know that my government has any number of cultural exchange programs available for interested friendly citizens as well as a surplus of Danaans desiring to experience other lands in a more intensive context than tourism."

Nathicana offered Andreus a polite nod of acknowledgement at his introduction. “A pleasure, your Highness,” she replied quietly, watching him with undisguised speculation. “Pity – I had hoped to speak with Aurora. Still, as I said, a pleasure. Please thank both her and your father for their well wishes, and pass mine on in turn when the opportunity arises.”

She did not miss the fact that Andreus did not include himself in that, whether by design or a simple mistake of omission. In Dominion politics, what wasn’t said was often as important, or moreso, than what was, so … noted, to be observed later when more information had been gathered. She knew well enough who the young man was, though her bearing did not betray her inner conflicting thoughts on the matter.

“I hope that life has been treating both you and your wonderful wife well?”

Gorrm nods his head slowly at points throughout owain's monologue. "Yes, a face-to-face audience is always better than correspondence or, as we've been seeing with greater regularity, tele-presence." His hand starts stroking the leathery tendrils growing on his chin. "My diplomatic officers have apprised me of the cultural exchanges made by your people, and those of other nations coming to your lands. Thus far a favorable light seems to shine on that, yes?"

His tympanum waver a bit as he lets a low rumble escape his throat through closed lips. "I'm certain that such a thing would be welcome on Sslaa V. However, most mammals that visit tend not to stay long. It is quite damp, and an average temperature of 94 farenheit keeps the ever-present humidity high. But that can be worked around. If you think a cultural exchange would indeed be beneficial to both our peoples, then what would prevent it from occuring?"

Archduchess Vethara and Grand Duke Mikhail

The air outside was fresh, excellent to get ideas straight, just exactly what she needed now that he had told her so much. Vethara breathed deeply as she walked over to the edge of the balcony, her brother standing still where he was as his eyes never left the Archduchess.

“Well, now you know the story as it happened, Vetha. I have nothing to hide.”

Vethara turned around and looked at Mikhail attentively, as she thought what she heard over and over again.

“If I was a foreigner, I would have never believed you…” She then smiled. “But as a Taraskovyan, this does not surprise me at all.”

Mikhail walked over to her, slowly, and looked her into the eyes. “Tell me, little sister, do you remember when father discovered you were his and brought you to the Palace?”

She nodded slightly. “You defended me in front of Katherine and Nastya… you always stood by me, even when they tried to root me out.” Her voice became shaky. “You made up that whole story about me and made sure everybody believed it… and you did it for a bastard half-sister.”

The Grand Duke smiled and shook his head. “No, I did it for my little sister.”

She reached out and hugged him, burying her face in his bosom as she sobbed. He held her against him, stroking her hair. “Be strong Cossack, and you will become an Ataman.” She calmed down and looked up at him through teary eyes.

“I shall renounce my claims, but on one condition.”

“Which is?”

“You shall never again personally lead an assault. You may have ended the Plague, yet look at all the years that came after.”

Mikhail smiled and inclined his head. “I promise you that.” He ran his fingers on her cheeks, clearing away the traces of tears, and smiled. “We shall go back inside once you are happy and smiling again, just as the little sister I’ve always known.”

***

Colonel Nethair

The Colonel of the Leib-guards shared a brief talk with Kshas-Ker and left him standing guard by the entrance to the balcony on which Vethara and Mikhail were talking. His attention was directed at somebody else he spotted in the crowd of guests. Somebody for whom, some time ago, he had to find a suitable gift.

He still remembered those days, living under a siege, with Federal troops all around and the Leib-guards constantly preparing to fight off an assault. The wolf cub truly saved the day for them back then. And today, the Grand Duchy was back and the Guard began to recover its lost splendour, having gained great prestige for not bowing to the Ruling Council during the years of its rule.

Duke Nethair Kiltharan walked over to the Imperatrice and bowed slightly in greeting, then inclining his head politely to Andreus.

“Your Majesty, your Highness, honoured to meet you. I am Colonel Kiltharan of the Alexander Leib-guards.” He grinned as he looked at Nathicana. “I have been looking forward to meeting your Majesty for quite some time. After your Majesty’s coronation, the then Taraskovyan government presented you with a gift. Since I was the one who chose that particular cub, I shall admit that I am very curious as of whether your Majesty appreciated him and, of course, whether he has been a cause of concern.”

The Duke’s smile indicated clearly that the last of his words referred to what many young animals tend to do – wreck havoc as they set on a journey to discover new things and find out how this and that tastes. And since Taraskovyan black wolf cubs are already impressive in size even though small, they sometimes tend to turn combat boots into pudding. So one better watch out for his slippers…

Elizabeth dropped into a curtsey and pulled open the door, to allow Ygraine inside. “My mother is present, your Highness. Please come in.” She waited for the woman to pass by, before she closed the door behind them, and walked over to where her mother was now standing, having risen at the sound of the voice at the door.

Lavinia took a step forward and smiled at their guest. “Your highness,” she greeted as she too dropped into a curtsey. “You honour us with your company.” She indicated one of the seats, across from where Lord Stratton, who had also risen from his seat, was standing. “Please, take a seat.”

Smiling, she then pointed out the two other people in the room. “You have met my daughter, Elizabeth.” The young girl smiled as she was formally introduced. “And this is my nephew, Lord Val Stratton.” The young man bowed his head in greeting, and greeted Owain’s mother.

Lavinia, indicated for the others to take their seats as she took her own. “It a pleasant surprise to see you, your Highness. I thought you might have been busy with his Majesty’s coronation.” Despite her words, she was genuine happy to see her daughter’s future mother-in-law.

* * * * *

Marissa smiled at Anna, her eyes twinkling, as she waited for Gwendolyn to finish speaking. “I think it is safe for me to presume that His Majesty will be far too busy for me to see him before the wedding.” She briefly wondered how all his meetings were going. He seemed to have quite a few of them left to see when she left. “If the opportunity should arise, I will endeavour to make sure that I do not see him passed midnight.”

She had heard the usual tale, her mother had been warning her since she arrived in the Resurgent Dream, much to Marissa’s annoyance. She let her eyes wander back to her future sister-in-law, who was happily smiling at her fiancé, before her eyes wandered around the table, at the other members of the Excalbian Imperial Family. She could not help picturing herself and Owain surrounded by their own family in such a setting years from now, which brought a pleasant smile to her lips.

Elizabeth gave Gwendolyn a warm, maternal smile. “It’s only natural to be a little anxious, my dear. But don’t worry; all the ceremonies will seem to pass very quickly. Then, you will be starting your new lives together.”

The Emperor nodded. “Everything will pass very quickly indeed.” David chuckled. “Why, after our honeymoon, Elizabeth and I had to watch a tape of the television broadcast of our wedding just to catch all the details.” David shared a quick smile with Elizabeth.

The Imperial family listened as Anna, Gwendolyn and Marissa spoke. Peter smiled and gave his fiancée a wink. “The luck, I’m afraid, is all mine, my love; everything has going my way you went to the ball game with me.”

As the conversation continued around the table, stewards appeared and cleared the dishes, then served desert – a simple dish of ice cream and local fruit. Coffee, both regular and decaffeinated, was offered to all the guests.

The Emperor took a cup of strong decaffeinated coffee with light cream and held it in his hands warming them. He looked around the table at his family, especially his daughter-in-law and future niece-in-law, then towards the family’s new friend from Tartarus. He sighed with contentment and smiled.

Nathicana murmured a brief apology to Andreus and turned with a warm smile to return Kiltharan’s greeting.

“Perhaps a bit more trouble than one might expect from a puppy – but then, Kostya is no mere puppy. In fact, he’s grown quite a bit in the past while,” she replied, extending her hand in greeting. “A pleasure to meet you, Colonello, and if I may say, an honor to meet the man who so thoughtfully chose such a loyal companion for me. I am in your debt.”

“Much to the dismay of those on watch, he has the run of the villa – including the bit of woodland I have on the property. He has plenty of room to stretch his legs, and seems to be content. However, the horses still haven’t quite come to grips with him, I’m afraid.” This last delivered with a soft laugh and a shrug as if to say ‘but one can one expect’.

Gwendolyn smiled at all the comforting words everyone was directing towards her, although she considered them rather misdirected. The Excalbians seemed to be overestimating her nervousness by a good deal, or so she thought. She was also a little confused as to why Elizabeth seemed to think it so wonderful that the ceremonies pass quickly. She knew that men were stereotypically unenthusiastic about the actual wedding ceremony but she was surprised to seemingly find a like antipathy in another woman. Although she appreciated the efforts to reassure her, she considered them rather unnecessary and was growing a little concerned that the Excalbians seemed to think she was upset or somehow in need of consolation. "I did, Your Highness." she answered Peter. "Perhaps enough time has elapsed that I might confess it was not actually interest in baseball which made me say yes?"
...
Ygraine allowed Elizabeth to lead her in to see the rest of the family. She retured the courtesy of Lavinia and nodded politely to the young men. "A pleasure to meet you all." She sat as Lavinia did, laughing slightly at her comment. "I can see how one would think such a thing, however, what would I actually be doing, especially with the ceremony itself over?"
...
Owain paused a moment to collect his thoughts. Although he had started the conversation down this line, it was now entering a level of detail which was more appropriately left to the government. Although his briefings on all of his guests had been somewhat hurried of necessity, he did seem to remember that Gorm took a much more direct role in the governing of his country than did Danaan monarchs.

Smiling lightly, he nodded. "Nothing. There is nothing at all to prevent it. I hope you are not finding the climate in Tarana too uncomfortable?"
...
Morgan inclined her head to Marian. "Good evening, Your Excellency. Have you been presented to Her Ladyship, Destra of Euroslavia, as of yet?"

Gorrm nodded his head as he leaned back on his trunk-like tail. "Very well, then. I'll get the DiploCorp on it, and they in turn will talk to Dean Lossa. He basically oversees all the educational concerns of the Herpetological Empire." A slight nutmeg scent wafts off of Gorrm at this, and the mention of the climate is made.

"The climate is quite nice, considering I took the proper precautions. The fine medtechs at Kastaa came up with some measures for climatory discomfort issues. An ounce of prevention, after all." With that he lifts his arm and rolls up his sleeve, showing a very small, very thin organism on it that seems to undulate slightly.

Owain lookied curiously at the small organism with some curiosity. He didn't bother asking if it was the means for allowing Gorm to be comfortable in the Danaan climate. That much was obvious from the context. "Are such beings native to your homeworld or was that one somehow created by the medtechs, Your Majesty?"
...
In a free society, days of great national celebration are also the days when many of societies dissenters choose to demonstrate their dissent. The overwhelming majority of dissenters, people who dissent on certain points but remain committed to the essential structure of society, make their displeasure known in an orderly, peaceable, and legal fashion. Such had been the case earlier that day with the marches for "normalizing" the status of the Grand Duchy of Tarana and even the march for a republic. Less reputable dissenters often express themselves with crude violence, as had happened in the communist led riots in Bilbtoria, which the police were just bringing under control around the time Owain was speaking to Gorm. However, in recent days, some people had taken to more...unorthodox methods of protest.

The Pantocratorian embassy had been receiving good wishes all day. Their mailroom had been overloaded far beyond capacity with friendly messages from ordinary Danaan citizens wishing to show their support for the emerging friendship between the two nations and the upcoming wedding. With these letters came a vast supply of flowers and a few baked goods. Women from Wintermore, in particular, seemed to think Princess Marie would wish to eat their home-made apple pies. On the whole, the embassy staff had likely had a flattering and yet extremely inconvenient day. However, not all Danaans felt that way.

Two young women wearing thick overcoats walked along the road along which the Pantocratorian Embassy lay. There were Royal Guard Officers maintaining security in the general area and likely Pantocratorian forces on the embassy grounds. But there was no law against walking down the street and the two women were initially ignored.

The women looked to one another as they neared the embassy. They reached into their coats and took out large white signs, which they slowly unfolded. On the signs, in marker, were written a number of grievances against Pantocratoria's treatment of women: The institution of the discipline corset among the nobility, the exclusion of women from combat roles in the military, arranged marriages, allegedly lax domestic violence laws, the lack of girls' sports, and a "fundamentally misogynistic culture."

The two women looked to one another for reassurance. Both were about college age and wore glasses which gave them a bookish look. The shorter one wore her brown hair in a tomboyish style while her taller friend had unruly and scarcely groomed red curls. Nodding, they tossed off their overcoats, revealing that they wore nothing underneath but their shoes. On their bodies was written, again in magic marker, "Free Pantocratorian Women!" Holding their signs up, they ran past the embassy screaming "No alliance with misogynists!"

The looks on the faces of the Royal Guard varied from lust to embarassment to disgust. Nonetheless, two officers rushed towards the girls, suppressing their thoughts on such an unusual offense. "Hold it right there! Hands behind your back!" The offenders were swiftly cuffed and herded into the back of a car to be arraigned for indecent exposure, lewd behavior in a public place, and unruly conduct in a public place. The remaining officers looked at the Pantocratorian guards in obvious embarassment, hoping the foreigners didn't take this incident as representative of Danaan womanhood.

Ambassador Slavosonov, Archduchess Vethara, Grand Duke Mikhail

Slavosonov nodded and smiled, as his eyes drifted to the side and fixed upon something, narrowing slightly with curiosity, before he erupted into a smile. “And it would seem that the situation did change. Maybe it has even been resolved.” And if Minerva turned around, she could notice at a certain distance Mikhail leading Vethara by her arm. The Archduchess was smiling, the Grand Duke was as calm as usual, yet it was certain for the observer that the brother and sister were finally reunited. Behind them was Kshas-Ker, his face the usual emotionless mask.

Vethara’s gaze crossed that of the Ambassador and she smiled, pulling her brother over to where the Prime Minister and Slavosonov were.

“Colonel Slavosonov,” the Grand Duke said with a smile. “Always a pleasure to meet a man loyal to the Grand Duchy.” Mikhail’s eyes set upon Karamanlis and he inclined his head politely in sign of greeting. “And it is an honour to meet your Excellency.” His eyes set upon Slavosonov again. “Ambassador, Her Highness has renounced her claims to the Sword. Thus, as the rightful Grand Duke of all Taraskovya, I offer you to remain as the Taraskovyan Ambassador to the Danaan realms.”

Slavosonov smiled and inclined his head respectfully. “Your Highness honours me. I accept the position and I shall make sure you do not regret your decision.”

***

Colonel Nethair

The Colonel of the Leib-guards kissed the Imperatrice’s hand and grinned at her words. “It is good to know that both your Majesty and the wolf are happy. Should you require in anything that relates to the wolf, I am at your Majesty's entire disposition. Now that I do not have hundreds of NGF troops threatening to slaughter my men and those under my protection, I have more free time.” The commander of the Alexander Guards laughed lightly and shook his head.

“Our Minister of Foreign Affairs, Ithun Khat, asked me to salute your Majesty should I meet you.” Nethair smiled. “He was one of those entrusted with bringing your Majesty the cub.”

Irene Daatman smiled at Corrina and looked over to her husband, who was now busily engaged talking about something with Tim de Boer. Both men were nodding unobtrusively in the direction of someone else, who was standing down the line, and it seemed as if De Boer was giving some sort of explanation to Daatman in Dutch.

"Oh, we just arrived", Irene said with a warm voice. "There are so many interesting new people to meet here; we just don't know where to begin yet."

Corrina nodded to the woman with the same bright smile, although she found her gaze peeking over to see who Daatman kept looking at. She noticed that the Knootian was gazing over at Gehenna and her party, although she could not quite make out what it was they were discussing.

"Her Imperial Majesty is really pretty." Corrina commented, for lack of anything better to say. Irene frowned, wondering what the child could possibly mean, and Jan Willem was not really paying attention anymore.

"Which Imperial Majesty?", she asked with a chuckle. "There are so many around here."

"Empress Gehenna." she clarified.

"Oh, I have not seen her yet", she said with a smile. "But I'm sure I will get to meet her later on."

"Dear...", Daatman whispered, signifying that he wanted to move on.

"I hope so." Corrina said.

"And maybe I will see you around as well!", she said encouragingly. "Its was nice to meet you."

"It was nice to meet you too, ma'am." Corrina replied. Irene inclined her head slightly as a farewell greeting. Her husband gave a curt nod as they walked across the room...

The guards at the embassy gates stayed perfectly still, severe and serious looks etched into their faces like granite, although one of them, newer to the job, was struggling to retain his composure. They both stood there in their dress uniforms, rifles slung over their shoulders, not budging an inch despite the naked protest.

"Attention!" called a sergeant of the guards in French at the top of his lungs. "Left one two, right one two..."

The sergeant marched towards the gates followed by two more guardsmen in their dress uniforms.

"Relief company, halt!" the sergeant screamed as he came to a stopped and slammed his boot down onto the pavement for effect. The two men with him did likewise. "Guard! Stand down!"

The two guardsmen on duty stood at ease.

"Guard! Fall in!" the sergeant ordered. "Left one two, right one two..."

The two now relieved guardsmen marched behind the sergeant.

"Relief company!" the sergeant yelled, once again at the top of his voice in the best traditions of self-important drill sergeants heading towards imminent strokes. "Assume position! Left one two, right one two, left one two, right one two!"

The relief company marched in step to the gate, and each man assumed a position on either side of the gate and stood at ease.

"Relief company! Attention!" the sergeant barked. The guards snapped to attention. "Stand on guard!"

He spun around on his heel to face the men behind him.

"Company! Reverse... march!" he commanded. The two guards turned around and marched back to the guard barracks. "Left one two... right one two... left one two..."

One of the new guardsmen arched an eyebrow as his gaze followed the two protestors being dragged away by the Danaan authorities, but the expression soon disappeared and faded back into the statue-like expression expected of guardsmen.

***

"Her Majesty and I are very happy, thank you for asking." Andreus replied to Nathicana's question with a polite nod.

Before the conversation could further progress, some self-important Tarasovkan officer-type interrupted and started to talk to the Imperatrice about some kind of animal or another. Unable to excuse himself from the conversation because he didn't wish to be so rude as to interrupt, but otherwise uninterested in it, Andreus stole a glance back in the direction of Morgan and Destra. To his annoyance he noticed that Marian had injected herself into their conversation, no doubt intending to smooth things over for him. If only he had known how meddlesome the former sidhe was from the start...

***

For her part, Anna was struggling to not be annoyed at what she perceived to be Gwendolyn's melodramatic pouting. Her temper was much shorter than usual, and the only thing which kept her ire in check was the knowledge that little things had been unduly agitating to her of late. It seemed like even the most innocent of things had provoked emotional reactions ranging from anger to despair of late.

Gorrm rolled the sleeve of his robe back up over his forearm. "Actually, it is indeed a designed creature. A symbiotid. The BioTechs at Kastaa Medical created it, and then one of our governmental sub-contractors refined it. It draws some proteins and amino acids from me to live, and in return it serves my needs that it was designed for. They don't live for more than a few hours otherwise, unless they're placed in a nutrient bath. Keeps them from wandering around at will, if they even have a will."

Owain inclined his head, studying the creature under Gorm's arm with genuine interest. "It is certainly amazing what modern science can do." Smiling once more, he stood. "In any event, welcome to Tarana. I look forward to seeing you tomorrow at my wedding." We politely saw Gorm to the door. After Gorm, he received Aurora of Lavenrunz.
...
After that, a page was sent to interrupt Kira's conversation with Prince Hermann, albeit one that seemed to have just started. The page bowed deeply to the Weyrean High King. "Your Majesty, His Majesty invites you to join him."
...
Corrina fell back a little as the Daatmans walked off, finding herself next to Petros Karamanlis. The young man, roughly her own age, smirked ever so faintly. "This is the new diplomatic Knootian approach Mom's always talking about?"

Corrina gave him a sidelong scowl and shook her head. "You're missing the whole point, Petros. It's not a matter of skill. It's a matter of will."

He rolled his eyes. "Thank you for the explanation, Corr."

Corrina laughed lightly. "Lady Galadriel was an excellent diplomat. It isn't that Daatman's a better diplomat than her in the sense of being more skilled. It's that he's willing to work with other people fairly."

"Oh..." Petros said, looking a little embarassed. "I guess that makes sense."
...
Karamanlis turned, curtseying to Grand Duke Mikhail. "The honor is mine, Your Highness."

Seeing Nathi was comfortable with the situation, Mas stepped back somewhat so as to give her ample room, yet remained close enough for whatever might be needed. He smiled ruefully at the talk of the now rather large black wolf who seemed to take pleasure in teasing the guards at the villa. He’d had his pantlegs and boots chewed on more than once when Kostya was still a puppy – and manageable. These days the wolf seemed to consider the guards there ‘superfluous’ which he made clear with the disdainful glances he sometimes cast their way, or the protective manner in which he stared them down when he was with his mistress and they were along as well. Amusing, yet … disconcerting.

“My thanks, Colonello, I will take you up on that should the need arise. So, young Ithun has come up in the world then, has he? I recall him being a Lieutenant when last we met. Please, pass on my congratulations and kind regards to both him, and General Colonel Vladimir Milolubov, whom I hope is still well. It is good to know things have finally settled somewhat for your people – it’s pained me to see your fine nation in such turmoil for so long.”

Turning back to Andreus, she made a more formal introduction of the two. “If I might introduce you to Prince Andreus, consort to a very dear friend of mine, her Imperial Majesty Aurora of Lavenrunz. Your Highness, Colonel Kiltharan of the Alexander Leib-guards, Tarasovka. I’m pleased to hear things are going well with you both, Andreus. Aurora’s happiness is something that concerns me greatly.”

This last was delivered with a warm smile yet meaningful look in her blue eyes that illustrated quite clearly the message she was sending – if one were good at picking up on subtleties, that is. One simply did not come out and say ‘if you make her unhappy I will gladly break your legs in several places … for starters’.

After that, a page was sent to interrupt Kira's conversation with Prince Hermann, albeit one that seemed to have just started. The page bowed deeply to the Weyrean High King. "Your Majesty, His Majesty invites you to join him."

"Sorry," Kira said to Hermann, somewhat relieved she didn't have to continue attempting a conversation, until she started following the page and wondered what this was about. "Thank you," turned to return the page's bow.

She didn't know much about Owain, besides the apparent fact that he was the new High King. Why he wanted her to join him, considering the other, more interesting people to speak with in attendance, was beyond her.

"So...what's this about?" she asked the page, following him.

Gorrm stood up on his legs, swished his tail around a bit to release the locking muscles, and bowed slightly. "Of course, your majesty. We can continue talks at a less hectic time, yes?"

Exiting the doorway, he stroked his symbiotid slightly. I'll peruse the recording of our conversation later. There is little we know of this Owain; I should get the Skeen to see what they can uncover from the datafeeds. He went back along the way the page took him from, and his guard came forward to form up around him. "I plan to enjoy a glass of something harder than wine. Make it so." One of his guard gave a bow, and hurried off to find a suitable beverage befitting Gorrm's rank.

"Of course." Owain said. "Perhaps you might also wish to speak with Mrs. Karamanlis about some of these topics?"
...
The page looked back to High King Kira, trying to mask his confusion. "I am not quite sure I understand the question, Your Majesty." he responded.
...
Corrina and Petros looked over to Nathicana, Andreus, and the Taraskovyan officer with faint curiosity. To their young minds, for whatever reason, these grown-ups were a lot less approachable than the Daatmans but they also seemed to be some of the more interesting people in the room, so they watched from a distance.
...
Another page arrived to fetch Andreus to join his wife in her talk with the High King, right before Kira's and rather short.

If Andreus picked up on the look, he had clearly been the subject of enough hollow threats in the form of "meaningful looks" since his engagement to safely ignore it by now. He was still a little distracted by the minor huff he had caused earlier anyway, and so he wasn't concentrating closely enough to pick-up on hidden meanings at this particular moment. He smiled graciously to Nathicana.

"I'm sure Her Majesty will be most flattered to hear that, Majesty." Andreus nodded to Nathicana, deliberately remaining on formal terms rather than the personal ones the Imperatrice had endeavoured to move the conversation towards. He turned to Colonel Kiltharan when he was introduced and nodded stiffly. "Monsieur le Colonel, a pleasure. I have never had the pleasure of visiting Taraskovya, but perhaps now that legitimate government has been restored, I shall get the opportunity."

When the page arrived to summon Andreus to see Owain, he bowed politely to Nathicana and nodded politely to the Colonel.

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty, Monsieur le Colonel. I trust you will enjoy yourself over the coming days. Aurevoir." he said, and then followed the page.

"Nevermind," Kira responded. "It doesn't matter. Please just call me Kira." It was amazing how the capitals came out in the page's speech. Some part of her wanted to turn around and figure out who the Majesty in question was. Some things were impossible to get used to, she had decided four years ago.

"There're so many Majesties around, I don't qualify for the title," she said by way of explanation. She didn't try to smile. It wouldn't come out right; she'd just look horribly nervous, or something.

Lavinia smiled as she made herself comfortable, and looked at Ygraine, a frown passing momentarily over her forehead as she gave the question some thought. “I have to admit that I had assumed you would have been wrapped up in meeting with His Majesties guests, but I suppose he has more than enough people doing that already.” Her furrowed brow straightened as her eyes brightened. “Of course, this allows us to share you company, so there are no complaints.”

Elizabeth, who had been watching her mother and her sister’s future mother-in-law, rolled her eyes. She was surprised that the King’s mother had appeared to her as being a little rude to her mother, in picking up on her evident lack of knowledge about the state of affairs. She knew that her mother could say the wrong thing at times, but she was more used to seeing people sidestep around the remark than address it. But then, back in Tartarus, Lavinia was the daughter of an Emperor and the sister of an Emperor, outside the Empire, Elizabeth surmised that this did not mean much to other nations.

“May I offer you refreshments, your…” Lavinia began, faltering as she was entirely sure how to address Ygraine. She knew she was the mother of the king, but she was sure that until his coronation, the family had not held titles higher than Duke.

* * * * *

Marissa smiled as her eyes glanced around the table, watching the various expressions of the others as the meal came to an end. It had been a very pleasant dinner, and she was grateful for the chance to get to meet some of the principal players in the following day’s ceremonies. She had been feeling a little out of place, knowing little more than the family she had brought with her and Owain’s. For a moment, she wondered which guest he was conversing with before she turned her attention to those around her.

“Thank you for the most enjoyable meal, your Majesties.” She addressed both the Emperor and Empress. “This evening has turned out to be a very pleasant one, and I thank you all for making me feel at home.”

Ygraine smiled slightly. "Why, Your Grace, that is what I am doing right now. His Majesty's future family are by no means among the least important of his guests. Why, the moment Lady Marissa is proclaimed queen, Lady Elizabeth here will from thenceforth be recognized as a Danaan Grand Duchess in addition to her Tartaran honors."

"I would love something to drink." Ygraine answered. "And you may simply call me Ygraine."
...
"Yes, thank you very much, Your Majesties." Gwendolyn added.
...
"I'm sorry, I can't do that, Your Majesty" answered the page. He led Kira to the high king's office just as Andreus and Aurora were leaving.

As Kira entered, Owain stood with the same warm smile he had for everyone. "Good evening, Your Majesty. Thank you very much for coming."
...
"He's really handsome." Corrina noted of Andreus as he left.

Petros snickered a little. "Don't you have a boyfriend in Pantocratoria anyway?"

Corrina's olive skin flushed slightly. "Well...yeah." She smiled a gushy smile thinking of Aindreas, somewhat out of place on a girl usually so vain and solipsistic.

"He'd probably be jealous." Petros continued unrelentingly.

"Because I made a passing comment about a married prince ten years older than me? Aindreas isn't that big of an idiot." Corrina protested fiercely.

"I don't know, Corr. He is dating you." Petros joked, giving her an ungentlemanly but friendly push on the arm.

Kira glared at the page for a brief moment. She resisted asking why he couldn't switch to something a bit less unweildy. The crimson-haired Weyrean opted to just forget about the whole thing.

"Thank you for inviting me," she bowed to Owain. Maybe she was supposed to curtsy, but that particular motion would have been quite strange in her current attire. "It's an honor." Kira considered asking him to not call her Majesty.

"Likewise." Owain answered, returning her bow. "My people still remember the help which Weyr gave to us during the Dreaming War. Unfortunately, our countries haven't had much contact since that time. While our cultures and even some of our ideals are rather different, I see no reason why we cannot continue our friendship with Weyr."

Owain gestured Kira to a seat, only sitting after the lady had. "I am honored that you decided to come to my wedding, Your Majesty. Lady Marissa and I are both heartened by the number of chiefs of state and government who have choosen to join us for the occasion and by the opportunity to meet so many of my brother and sister sovereigns in person. I am a firm believer in the principle that international peace and friendship comes through direct personal contact both between leaders and between peoples, moreso than from any other source."

He smiled slightly as he regarded the woman. "I am given to understand you yourself as fairly new to the Weyrean crown. How does it find you, Your Majesty?"

Peter gave Gwendolyn a knowing grin. “I suspected as much,” he said lightly. “In fact, this is probably a good time to confess that my interest was not entirely in the ball game either.”

Conversation bubbled around the table through desert. After the final plates were cleared, Empress Elizabeth excused James and Tariq. The two boys did their best to bow politely, then retreated to their rooms.

“Thank you for the most enjoyable meal, your Majesties.” Marissa addressed both the Emperor and Empress. “This evening has turned out to be a very pleasant one, and I thank you all for making me feel at home.”

"Yes, thank you very much, Your Majesties." Gwendolyn added.

“Your welcome, my Lady. Your Highness.” Elizabeth nodded.

Emperor David stood and smiled. “Thank you both - my Lady, your Highness – for a wonderful evening. I know we are all looking forward to a joyous – and full – day tomorrow.”

“Uncle,” Peter said, “would you excuse Her Highness and I?”

“Certainly,” David said with a nod.

Peter turned to Gwendolyn. “Would you care to take a walk, Gwendolyn? I promise to have you back to your room before midnight, of course.” Peter’s eyes sparkled and he smiled warmly.

Joseph turned to Anna and whispered, “Are you ready to retire for the evening or would you like to stay for a while?”

The Leib-guards Colonel

“Bien évidemment, Monsieur le Dauphin. Nous serons ravis de vous accueillir au Grand Duché. Au plaisir de vous revoir.”*

Colonel Kiltharan inclined his head politely to Andreus as he left and then returned his gaze to the Imperatrice and smiled.

“I have studied French, but I admit that I know nothing of your language.” Nethair lowered his head a little, as if in shame, before smiling again. “And indeed, Ithun has made progress in the political arena. And he is now also a class nine rank, Captain of the Airborne. So he jumped two classes.” The officer paused, understanding that those from the Dominion would not know the differences in rankings between the various branches of the Taraskovyan military, and decided to leave it at that.

“As of General-Colonel Miloludov…” The smile faded from the Colonel’s face. “He has unfortunately departed our world during the Time of Troubles. Should your Majesty wish so, I can pass her regards to his family.” The Colonel smiled again. “Vladimir was one of those who aided in secret the cause of the Grand Duchy and we shall make sure his sacrifice has not been in vain. I and my people are thankful for your sympathy and I am sure we shall do everything we can so that your Majesty does not feel pained in the future. After all, there are things for your Majesty to worry about other than Taraskovyans deciding where to go.”

The Colonel laughed lightly glanced around quickly to where Mikhail and Vethara were talking to Karamanlis and smiled again, hurrying to pass over the negative moments as quick as possible. “And there we have another sign that stability is set to endure. His Highness the Grand Duke has convinced his sister to abandon her claims that dated from the Time of Troubles.” His eyes returned to Nathicana again. “In Tarasovka we say that the Grand Duke rules because Gods will it and people tolerate it. And nothing works better than the absence of rivals to increase tolerance.” The Colonel laughed lightly.

[OOC:
* Of course, Monsieur le Dauphin. We shall gladly welcome you to the Grand Duchy. Looking forward to seeing you again.]

Joseph turned to Anna and whispered, “Are you ready to retire for the evening or would you like to stay for a while?”

"I'd like to retire, but you can stay if you like, Joseph." Anna replied with a faint smile. She kissed him gently on the cheek. "Or you could go with Peter and Gwendolyn... it would be most improper to leave them without a chaperone, don't you think?"

"Incompetent," Kira said. "I can't do the one thing that's expected of me and keep out foreign troublemakers. Luckily, Weyr runs itself just fine without a king," she chuckled. "But ... I guess we all have our problems."

"We do at that." Owain conceded to Kira. "I wish that I had time for more than a brief meeting. However, my schedule is rather pressed this evening."
...
A page approached Gehenna with a deep bow. "Begging your pardon, Your Imperial Majesty, His Majesty would be honored by your company."
...
Gwendolyn blushed lightly at Anna's comment. "I would love to accompany you, Your Highness." she answered Peter before turning to Joseph. "Will you be joining us then?"

Anna blushed when she realised Gwendolyn had overheard what was intended as a remark for Joseph alone. She was too embarrassed to even apologise for the implication that Gwendolyn and Peter needed a chaperone, and visibly shrank back into her chair, biting her lower lip lightly and looking away from the gaze of the bride and groom to be.

Marian curtsied to Destra and Morgan as she arrived. "My ladies, I hope that my lord did not cause you undue distress."
"Not at all." as Lady Destra smiled at her. "I've seen much worse, to be quite honest. That was before I became leader though. People these days, where have good manners gone?" as she gave a slight smirk as to not seem so serious.


Morgan inclined her head to Marian. "Good evening, Your Excellency. Have you been presented to Her Ladyship, Destra of Euroslavia, as of yet?"

"I do not believe we have met." as Destra bowed with grace towards Marian. "Very good to meet you on such a joyous occasion. I hope this evening has been treating you well?" she asked Marian.

Karamanlis turned, curtseying to Grand Duke Mikhail. "The honor is mine, Your Highness."

Mikhail nodded and smiled. “Then I shall gladly concede the honour to your Excellency.” He chuckled and laughed lightly.

Having a drink delivered to him, Gorrm considered Owain's parting advice. Perhaps I should seek out this Karmanlis female. Perhaps...... He let his thoughts trail off to wondering about his adopted hatchling in his youngest hatch-mate's care.

I hope that silly woman doesn't let some of her mannerisms rub off on Kofft. That's all i'd need is more of 'her' running around. A small sound like a chuckle escapes his leathery lips at that. Soon enough, his attention snapped back to where he was, and he entered the hall again.

Karamanlis laughed lightly at the Grand Duke's joke. "His Grace and I were just talking about the relations between our two nations. We are, of course, overjoyed and the restoration of legitimate rule in Taraskovya."
...
Marian smirked ever so faintly as she looked to Destra. "It has, actually, Your Ladyship. This is the first time I've been back to my home country since I swore my service to the Despot."

Morgan smiled warmly. "It is good to know that our nation is well-represented in Pantocratoria." She gave Marian a semi-conspiratorial wink. "I heard about your joust at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator."

Marian smiled faintly. "I am rather proud of that, Your Highness. However, it was my last one."

"I understand," Kira nodded. "Well, I don't dictate foreign policy, but I can say that Weyr's stance won't change just because of new leadership. On that note, the Tower finally decided it wants to know if it can help you in any way."

"We certainly appreciate the Tower's consideration." Owain said. "However, we are in no immediate need of foreign assistance." He smiled cordially again. "Thank you greatly for coming, Your Majesty. It does mean a great deal to us." He rose at that, politely seeing Kira to the door.

Grand Duke, Archduchess and Ambassador

The Grand Duke inclined his head and grinned. “And we are grateful for the support your nation offered to the cause of the Grand Duchy. And I am certain that we shall be able to further strengthen the good relations between our countries in the future.”

“Taraskovyans remember little favours and value their friends, for they have only a few,” Vethara said mysteriously with a charming smile. “But let us not discuss anything official now. The time is for celebration.”

She called over a waiter and got a glass for herself and for her brother, the Taraskovyan Ambassador following the example. Vethara raised her glass into the air a little. “To Owain and Marissa. Let them live happily and have many children.”

Mikhail inclined his head with a lot of dignity. “So that the Danaan diaper industry never goes bankrupt!”

Vethara erupted into a joyous laughter as Slavosonov chuckled and grinned.

Marian smirked ever so faintly as she looked to Destra. "It has, actually, Your Ladyship. This is the first time I've been back to my home country since I swore my service to the Despot."

Destra nodded back at Marian. "How long has it been since you left here?" She wasn't sure if she could handle being away from Euroslavia for a long period of time, despite the fact that she has done so before, but that was quite a long time ago. Now that she had made necessary reforms in the nation, and seem a record high percentage of the population in support of her continued rule, she didn't exactly want to be away for too long.

Entry number one thousand seven hundred fifty, Second Era Year Two Hundred and Fifteen, September 21st, (Tephet-Sheta Month System).

I find myself compiling this entry, of all places, in the Danaan Court. Some things do surprise me. The topic that prompts it? Nobility: A train of thought provoked by noting the prescence of one Vethara Shakhovskaya, who I’m told is to join me in being a C’tani duke – well, in her case, duchess – for some reason even I have been unable to find out. I’m sure she’ll appreciate this ‘honour’ far more than I do.

Which leads me on to thinking about the various Pantocratorian nobs who happen to be strutting around like their nation’s peacocks (an apt ‘national bird’ if ever there was one) I suppose I should be glad the males aren’t going around crowing and shaking their tail feathers at the rest of us. What backwards savages these Pantocratorians are, trust Pantocratorians to be a few centuries behind the rest of humanity! It beggars belief, really.

Further, I just discovered that a pair of Danaans was arrested for protesting their government’s continued alignment with this repellent misogynistic culture outside its embassy. Of course, it should come as no surprise that protesting without clothing resulted in their arrest, but it did, still. Besides this, I think I ought to investigate having their fines paid from my accounts, and for that matter, see if they have an organised movement I could donate to.

That of course, doesn’t compare to the wonderful, fantastic sight of the Pantocratorian ‘crown prince’ being subjected to an array of hissings and spittings from a line of Danaan courtiers who resembled nothing so much as a row of housecats who’ve had their tails pulled. Seemingly for a slight bit of flirtation with some woman - Stop the presses! Man looks lustily at woman. Honestly, what do we bother with these fools for?

For all I complain about the Pantocratorian ‘Nobility,’ (See earlier rants on why anyone who insists on abusing their wife has all the inherent nobility of donkey-excrement, titles and lineages be damned) I can’t help but think that this younger Andreus is the best of them. Have some damn fun, don’t spend all your time thinking of moronic protocols established by a long line of predecessors who wore wigs you could loose a battleship in man!

Good for him to buck the trend. Which does remind me, I should find out where exactly that son of mine has gotten to with their ambassador. While I don’t care if he manages to offend the Pantocratorians, may their masochistic god help him if he’s attracted to her. The ignominy of it.

- The amusingly reluctant Duke, Paul K. de Vere.


...

Paul snapped the book closed, and leaned back, continuing to watch the spectacularly ornate room and its doings with a resigned eye.

Corrina and Petros spotted the C'tani duke. Petros leaned over and whispered to her "That guy looks REALLY creepy. Is he one of the Nationalist MPs, one of the Cymro-Helvetian Protestant Empire crowd?"

Corrina shook her head. "I think he's C'tani. He's probably just shy, like the Daatmans. I'm going to go say hi to him."

Petros shrugged. "Suit yourself."

Corrina grinned, walking over to de Vere with a broad smile and curtseying. "Excuse me, Your Grace. I couldn't help but notice that you didn't seem to be enjoying yourself."
...
"About a year now." Marian answered Destra. "It is good to see my homeland again."
...
Karamanlis nodded graciously at the grand duke's thanks. "It was the right thing to do." she answered simply. "I only wished we could have been of more concrete assistance."

She raised her glass to the toast, laughing graciously at the joke. "I just hope the Danaan people will be able to keep up with all their princes!"

"It's been a pleasure meeting you," Kira bowed, before allowing herself to be escorted out of the room.

It was possibly the most pointless meeting had ever been to, but that wasn't a problem as far as she was concerned, since she really had nothing important to say to Owain and apparently he had more pressing concerns. Considering the number of people he'd have to meet this night, she didn't blame him. She shrugged, and settled for drifting back to the outside of the throne room, from where she could more or less watch and think without really having to do anything. Maybe she could reintroduce isolationism to Weyr; it was so much easier than having to come up with reasons to interact with proper rulers. She chuckled at the bad joke; even if isolation was a good idea for Weyr, it wasn't something she should justify just because she was an anti-social freak. An anti-social freak who was a head taller than most humans and thus stuck out like a sore thumb, she added.

"Likewise." Owain said as he saw Kira out.
...
Sir Alfred Dashwood straightened his jacket as he surveyed the aristocratic crowd in the ballroom. He was a larege man and an old one, who took no shame in enjoying coffee, cigars, and drink. He was a humorous but gruff Nationalist MP from Amory, known for his uncompromising stands. Despite his staunch aristocratic perspective and his conservative politics, Dashwood could not help but reflect on the utter uselessness of most aristocrats as he surveyed the room. Prince Andreus, a man who would one day sit on the Pantocratorian Throne, struck him as particularly useless, a man without even that basic day-to-day kind of consideration for other people which one calls common courtesy, much less diplomatic sense.
...
Marian glanced briefly towards the door, wondering when Andreus would be back.
...
Lieutenant Kira Brame, a short-haired athletic woman in a Marine uniform, looked quietly around the throne room, proudly wearing her new Golden Gryffon. As a recent recepient of the medal for having captured the number two man in the Sons of the Reformation just last month, Brame had been invited to the coronation although neither her rank nor her post required her attendance. At the moment, she was consent simply to sip her wine and watch the leaders, nobles, and diplomats interact.

Andreus had to talk Aurora out of returning to the room with him - he didn't particularly want to go back himself, but he was conscious that he had left Marian there expecting his return, and so made his way back to the chamber. He re-entered the chamber with an imperious look on his face to let the self-righteous Danaan courtiers know that he wasn't worried by their earlier hissing and judgemental frowns. He made his way directly over to Marian's side and gently placed his hand on the small of her back to let her know he was there before nodding politely and re-entering the conversation.

"Mesdemoiselles." he said. "I trust things haven't been too dull in my absence."

***

Princess Marie and Adish de Vere had spent the past little while strolling about the halls and salons of the palace, deliberately avoiding congregating with the rest of the guests in the reception hall.

"...and then I..." Marie recalled, but stopped abruptly and gently bit her lower lip. "Hmmm... do you have the time, monsieur?"

"About a year now." Marian answered Destra. "It is good to see my homeland again."

"I'm not sure that I could last that long without being in Euroslavia; granted, we've both had different experiences as well as different tasks, but I've just become so accustomed to staying here that I couldn't imagine it any different way. I'm sure if they opportunity came up, and the circumstances of me being away from Euroslavia were of importance, I would do it in a heartbeat." as she paused as thought about the possibility of being away from her nation for a long period of time.

"I must ask you this though," as Destra gave a bright smile. "What are the first things you wanted to do once you returned here?" as she hoped for a more casual discussion, rather than being serious the entire time.

Joseph smiled at Anna’s kiss. “I’ll take you back to our apartment,” he said. Lowering his voice, he continued, “I might step outside for a moment afterwards to bid Gwendolyn and Peter good night.”

The prince blushed along with his wife when he realized Gwendolyn and Peter had overheard his conversation with Anna.

Peter looked over at his cousin and smiled. He gave slight shrug with his eyes, a gesture he knew his cousin would understand. “Yes, Joseph, why don’t you join after Anna is settled for the evening? It would be good chance for you and Gwendolyn to get to know each other better.”

Joseph smiled at Peter and nodded. He turned and smiled reassuringly at Anna. “Why don’t I walk you back to our quarters then, Anna, and see to it that you are settled for the evening.” He looked over to Peter. “I shall join you in half an hour,” Joseph saw Peter’s eyes shift side-to-side, “or forty-five minutes or so,” Peter smiled. “Alright?”

“Wonderful,” Peter said. He turned and smiled warmly at Gwendolyn.

“Mother, Father,” Joseph said nodding to his parents before turning to Marissa, “my Lady. If you will excuse us.”

“Of course, of course,” the Emperor said. “Good night, Anna. Joseph.”

The Empress nodded. “Good night, dears.”

Joseph stood and extended his arm to Anna.

Marissa stood and smiled, as Joseph and Anna said their goodbyes and made ready to leave. “It was a pleasure meeting you both.” Her eyes lingered on Anna for a moment. “I hope that you get plenty of rest so that you are able to join in the festivities tomorrow.” She stepped back out of the way to allow the family to say their farewells. As she did, she let her gaze remain on the picture of family togetherness before her, which suddenly made her miss her own. She hoped that everyone was faring well. She felt it would not be too much longer before she would have to make her own farewells, as she wanted to spend some time with her own family before the following day.

* * * * *

Gehenna smiled at the page as he approached and gave Owain’s invitation. “I would be most honoured to meet His Majesty. Please lead the way.” She turned to Balion and lowered her voice. “Please try to keep out of trouble while I am gone, I shall not be too long.” She gave him a smile then turned and followed the page.

* * * * *

Lavinia smiled warmly at Ygraine. “You are far too kind. It is a pleasure to be welcomed so freely into your family.” She looked over at Elizabeth, who was looking more than a little surprised at Ygraine’s announcement. “It is an honour for our daughter to be bestowed with such a gift. His Majesty is most generous in his gifts to us.” She looked at her daughter then back at the King’s mother. “Perhaps you would care for a glass of champagne to celebrate the future union of our two families?”

Elizabeth remained over by the drinks, waiting for the two women to give their orders. Briefly, she glanced over at her cousin, Lord Stratton, who was smiling at her, watching her face with some amusement that played about his eyes.

Grand Duke, Archduchess

“Well, the Danaan State can always print encyclopedias listing all the princes along with useful information,” the Grand Duke said, sipping on his drink a little. Vethara grinned and raised her glass again.

“To the Danaan publishing industry then!”

The Grand Duke smiled and nodded, raising his glass, followed by the Ambassador.

“To the Danaan publishing industry… and, I would add, to the Danaan forest industry!” Mikhail recited with a smile. “Ah, this event is more joyous than I first suspected. I had not been approached by anyone willing to debate something politically important or simply to stare at me and ask me whether I was not supposed to be dead.” The Grand Duke grinned. “Although I shall allow myself to be honest with your Excellency, I really do not know how I will manage to sit out three wedding ceremonies in a row.”

He grinned and sipped on his drink, waiting for an answer, if any, to find whether Karamanlis knew about that little particularity of the Taraskath society and religion, to which the Grand Duke attributed himself.

“Worry not, brother, I shall make sure you sit them out.” Vethara said with a joyous, melodic laughter. Mikhail smiled and also allowed him a little laugh.

Karamanlis drank to both toasts, still smiling warmly at the grand duke. "And to the restoration of the Grand Duchy of Taraskovya and to Your Highness's long reign!"
...
As the page led Gehenna into the room, Owain rose politely. "Your Imperial Majesty, I have no seen you since I formally asked your leave to court your cousin."
...
"I would love a glass!" Ygraine said brightly. She turned to Elizabeth, who was serving them, with a smile. "Thank you....Your Highness."
...
Gwendolyn gave a friendly smile to Joseph. "His Highness and I would love your company."
...
"Not too dull, Your Highness." Morgan answered Andreus as he returned.

Marian nodded to confirm the grand duchesses words before speaking to Destra. "I actually came straight here, Your Ladyship. There was not much of a chance for anything else."

Marian nodded to confirm the grand duchesses words before speaking to Destra. "I actually came straight here, Your Ladyship. There was not much of a chance for anything else."

"Ah, I understand." Destra didn't want to stick with the topic anymore, in case she were to bring up something that could possibly offend Marian. She knew that she could get slightly annoyed at having absolutely no time to do a few things that she would like, in between politics and leading a nation; which happened as often as a solar eclipse; not often at all.

Ainulindalion smiled and nodded at Gehenna as she turned to follow the page. “Of course, love. You have matters of state to attend to, and I have foods and drink to attend to. You know my opinion of these Imperial affairs.” He grinned broadly and winked. “As for trouble, I shall do my best not to cause more than my fair share.” This last was said quietly he watched his lover walk away with the page, and he turned to examine the room.

Peacocks and pheasants adorned it, clad in overly bright costumes, so he supposed, much as a deacon at a house of joy, his relatively unrelieved black setting him apart. When he stopped moving near a refreshment table, a glass of dark red wine in his hand and one of those little fancy sandwiches speared on a knife, his unmoving form was a solid wall of black, his cape draping oddly over his raised arms and his fanciful sword, and raven eyes beneath sable hair, pulled back on his head, scanned the room, looking for something interesting to pass the time with until the Empress of Tartarus returned.

Scanning about the room, he extended his senses, and felt someone who had just left a conversation, the feeling of a sense of completion, and subtly bent his will for the person and their companions to join him in refreshments. If nothing else, the Knootians could provide a temporary entertainment.

She watches Andreus depart with a thoughtful expression, turning back to the Colonel as he speaks again. Nodding politely and smiling at the news about Ithun’s advancement, and waving away his professed ignorance of her language, she grows more sober as he continues.

“I’m very sorry to hear that,” Nathi replies to Nethair’s answer concerning Miloludov. “Please, if you would. I didn’t know him well, granted, but he struck me as a man of honor. If you would as well pass on my regards to His Highness, should the opportunity to speak with him be missed here – and an offer of aid should there be need for it. We’ve been quite fortunate in the Dominion. I would be honored to have the opportunity to repay in some manner the kindnesses Taraskovya has shown me.”

She follows his glance, one brow arching ever so slightly as he explains, though she too laughs softly at the conclusive jest.

“Indeed. One might say the same of the Dominion, in some respects,” she says with a slightly wry smile. “Thank you again for both your courtesy, and your time, Colonel. It has been a decided pleasure meeting you. And thank you again for my not-so-little Kostya. I really should look into the possibility of him getting out more with me. Can you just imagine the spectacle?”

Nathi smiles brightly at the thought of having her wolf at her side for a gathering such as this, while Mas suppresses a quiet groan – as if he didn’t have enough to worry about as is.

“Perhaps we’ll have the opportunity to speak again before the celebration is over. Until then,” she says, smiling warmly and extending her hand.

"Good night, Your Majesties, Your Highnesses, my lady." said Anna, nodding politely to each person in turn as she rose and took Joseph's arm.

***

"A chance for what?" Andreus inquired.

As Gehenna entered the room, following the page, she smiled brightly as she approached the new High King. “Your Majesty, it is indeed unfortunate that we have not had the pleasure of each other’s company for a long time, but it is in very pleasant circumstances that we find the opportunity has once again arisen.” She paused for a moment, her eyes never leaving her host. “I feel most fortunate to be able to congratulate you personally on your coronation, although I have to admit that tomorrow holds more importance to me, as it finally brings about the joining of our two families.”

* * * * *

Elizabeth, recovering from her moment of shock, moved over to where her mother and Ygraine were seated, carrying with her their drinks. “You are most welcome, Your Highness.” The young woman’s cheeks were still tinged with pink and she returned to her seat, still taken aback at being given such a gift.

Lavinia turned away from her daughter, once more facing the King’s mother. “I wish I had known that we would be honoured with your company, I feel that I should be offering you more than a glass of champagne, especially as His Majesty has been so kind to us since we arrived.” She looked over at her nephew, who was lounging quietly in the seat opposite. “Lord Stratton, would you be so kind as to see if you could find His Grace and my son?”

Nodding, he rose from the seat. “It will be a pleasure, Aunt Lavinia.” He gave her a smile, then turned to Ygraine. “I am honoured to have had the pleasure of meeting you, Your Highness.” He gave a small bow and departed the room.”

“He is such a lovely young man.” Lavinia spoke absentmindedly as she watch Val leave, then turned back to Ygraine. “We do seem to be all over the place today. And we are hoping to see Issi sometime this evening, although she is probably tied up with meeting new people.”

* * * * *

Helena Frewin was more than a little taken back with all the people she had had the opportunity to speak do during the time following the coronation. Normally, the Ambassador would be talkative, but in this particular instance she seemed to be answering a lot more questions than she was used to. Of course, she was not stupid and she knew that most of the attention stemmed from the upcoming wedding of Lady Marissa to the High King. After all, what better way was there to form relations that marriage, and not just in the romantic sense either.

Giving a few words to the group she was with, she parted from them, cradling her now empty glass as she wandered around looking for a replacement. She had not been drinking heavily, but she felt very uneasy carrying around an empty glass and it was always prudent to keep a full glass nearby, just in case someone made an impromptu toast.

Wandering through the throng of people, spotting one or two familiar faces, she went in search of a glass of wine.

"Tomorrow holds a great deal of importance to me as well, Your Majesty." Owain said with a smile. He gestured her to a chair. "Please, have a seat."
...
"Your company is more than enough, lady." Ygraine answered Lavinia. She nodded to Stratton as he left. "It was a pleasure to meet you, as well, my lord." She then turned to Lavinia again as the young man left. "He is indeed. And he is still a bachelor?"
...
Gwendolyn returned Anna's curtsey. "Good night, Your Highness. Rest well."
...
"To visit my old haunts." Marian answered Andreus's inquiry. "It has been a long time since I was here, not since the Shattering."

Morgan smiled at Andreus. "Her Excellency is welcome to stay as long as she'd like, provided Your Highness could spare her for a week or so."

Marian grinned. "I think I would like that."

Colonel Nethair

“Your Majesty’s warm words honour my homeland and I shall be certain to communicate them to His Highness.” The Colonel said with a bow. “And I am the one who must thank your Majesty for your time and kind words.”

He took the offered hand and shook it lightly. “Maybe one day I shall have the honour of meeting your Majesty at the Winter Palace. There, we have the beasts stand side by side with the Leib-guards during balls, even though we keep the number of wolves small if the event attracts a high number of foreigners. The Alexander Guard does not want to…” He paused for a second, thinking of a word. “…shock anyone. Your Majesty, I shall take my leave.”

With that he smiled and clacked his heels, inclining his head to Nathicana before departing.

***

Grand Duke, Archduchess

Vethara smiled broadly and nodded in agreement to Karamanlis, raising her glass. “To my brother’s long reign.”

“To His Highness the Grand Duke!” The Ambassador joined in.

“To me not dying anytime soon!” Mikhail nodded as he clinked his glass with those of others.

Karamanlis laughed lightly at Mikhail's way of putting it as she clinked her glass to the others. "I hope Your Highness's are enjoying the company so far."

The Archduchess inclined her head and smiled. “Everything is going fine, even better than I would have thought.”

“Indeed, we now have one single Grand Duchy… again,” – the Grand Duke added to his sister’s words. “And I do not have to appoint a new ambassador because there is already one, so less administrative bother.” He said as he glanced over at Slavosonov, the latter inclining his head respectfully.

Karamanlis nodded. "We're still looking at candidates for our new ambassador to the Grand Duchy."

“And I shall personally make sure that the Danaan embassy is located conveniently in the Capital city,” – Mikhail added. “The Foreign Minister shall receive all the instructions a bit later.”

Karamanlis grinned. "Thank you very much, Your Highness. I'm sure His or Her Excellency will greatly appreciate the courtesy."

“As my sister has said, Taraskovyans remember their friends.” The Grand Duke said as he looked at Vethara, before looking back at the Danaan Prime Minister. “But we shall discuss official matters at a later date. As of now, your Excellency, I deem we have had enough of talk about Taraskovya, let us talk about your own country.”

Vethara smiled and took on from that point. “I wonder whether your Excellency could tell me about the Greek principality you come from.”

"Greek principality?" Karamanlis asked, more about the wording than because she didn't know what she'd meant.

“Bilbtoria,” Vethara said with a smile. “I had information that it was mainly inhabited by Greeks.”

"It is a largely Greek-speaking Orthodox principality, yes." Karamanlis said with a smile. "What would you like to know about it?"

“Its history, its people,” the Archduchess said. “I am a Taraskovyan Orthodox, so that particular territory makes me curious the most.”

"It is almost as amazing as what happened in Pantocratoria, really." Karamanlis said. "Before the Shattering, all the demographic research seemed to indicate that even most humans identified as members of the then established Dana worshipping church. And now that the Fae have left us, a long ignored cultural heritage among the human populace, which was really there all along, has surfaced for all to see. It is the same in most other principalities, with their own cultures and religions."

“Interesting.” Vethara said with a smile. “I did not have the chance to visit the entirety of the Danaan realms, but I surely hope to have the opportunity to do so.”

Mikhail chuckled. “Now that you do not have to worry about the affairs of State, sister, I deem that you shall have the opportunity.”

"You are welcome any time, Your Highness." Karamanlis said, smiling warmly.

Vethara expressed her gratitude to the Danaan Prime Minister, with the Grand Duke wishing her a good evening before the two royals departed Karamanlis to wander about the hall. The Ambassador remained with the Prime Minister for a little bit before joining up with the two Parliament speakers that were happily debating something by a table with refreshments.

Ainulindalion smiled and nodded at Gehenna as she turned to follow the page. “Of course, love. You have matters of state to attend to, and I have foods and drink to attend to. You know my opinion of these Imperial affairs.” He grinned broadly and winked. “As for trouble, I shall do my best not to cause more than my fair share.” This last was said quietly he watched his lover walk away with the page, and he turned to examine the room.

Peacocks and pheasants adorned it, clad in overly bright costumes, so he supposed, much as a deacon at a house of joy, his relatively unrelieved black setting him apart. When he stopped moving near a refreshment table, a glass of dark red wine in his hand and one of those little fancy sandwiches speared on a knife, his unmoving form was a solid wall of black, his cape draping oddly over his raised arms and his fanciful sword, and raven eyes beneath sable hair, pulled back on his head, scanned the room, looking for something interesting to pass the time with until the Empress of Tartarus returned.

Scanning about the room, he extended his senses, and felt someone who had just left a conversation, the feeling of a sense of completion, and subtly bent his will for the person and their companions to join him in refreshments. If nothing else, the Knootians could provide a temporary entertainment.

Seeing Gehenna walk away from him before he even got to her brought a disappointed pout on the face of Jan Willem Daatman, and - looking over at the movement in the crowd where Gehenna had stood - he stopped to exchange a brief look with Tim de Boer, who in turn shrugged as if to say that it was pointless to pursue her.

“Say dear, those small sandwiches actually look quite pleasant”, Jan Willem remarked eagerly at his wife, as if driven by a hunger that hadn’t been there before. Irene nodded in assent, and the Knootian trio made its merry way to the refreshment table where Ainulindalion was standing. At first, Daatmans foremost thoughts were focussed on obtaining one of the small sandwiches on the refreshment table. (The fancy sandwiches were indeed looking quite delicious, and they had no doubt been well-prepared with the finest ingredients – an advantage of being abroad, he considered, was the superior quality of the food. The appreciation of excellent food was a quality not present in Knootian society, not even much of ‘high’ society, the Daatman couple being a notable exception.)

Despite his important culinary considerations, Jan Willem felt compelled to greet the strange but impressive gentleman who was standing there.

“Good day”, he said pleasantly – not knowing very well how to continue as he noticed that this man was armed with a very extravagant sword. Typically, when Jan Willem did not know what to do or say, he would nod and show his polite, warm trademark smile – and that was exactly what he did now. Irene immediately positioned herself next to her husband - ready to greet the man. Tim de Boer frowned, meanwhile, wondering what the fuss was about...

The man in the dark cloak slowly turned to face the Knootians, surprise registering on his face as if he had not known they were standing next to him. He finished chewing then swallowing his most recent bite from the sandwich impaled on the dagger which matched his sword, and his coal black eyes regarded the shorter people with curiosity.

His eyes ran over them, slightly narrowed, as if in thought, before they widened in recognition. The sandwich vanished, maybe into a nearby trash receptacle, maybe he ate it, maybe it was placed on a napkin on the table, it was tough, if not impossible to say. The dagger slid away into a belt sheath, somehow, and the glass of wine switched hands. All of this seemed to take place in the moment that his eye widened, but the details were, of course, slightly fuzzy for anyone observing the actions.

His right hand came out, extended in greeting to the leader of the group. “Hello, Prime Minister, Misses Daatman, Mister de Boer.” He nodded to each as he spoke their names, his pronunciation of the foreign names perfectly accented, though an identifiable accent colored his Common tongue, though it had a vaguely aristocratic drawl to it, though hardly the clipped, precise tones of the Tartarian accent. “Lord George Oliver Daniels, a pleasure to meet you.”

The Knootians looked fairly surprised, even dazzled by the quick moves of the man. Even more surprise ensued when he spoke their names, not only knowing them but apparently managing to pronounce them as they ought to be without much trouble.

"Apleasure to meet you, Lord Daniels, it is good to make your acquaintance. I suppose we can skip the other introductions." Daatman said agreeably as they shook hands, although disparity in knowledge was a little unsettling. "It seems that you have already acquainted yourself with us, but I must confess that the reverse is not true…" he paused for a moment, looking at the stranger in puzzlement, "If you will allow me to speculate, are you a member of the Tartarian delegation?"

Joseph took Anna’s arm in his and bowed slightly. “Good night, Mother, Father, my Lady,” he said. Then, turning to Peter and Gwendolyn he added, “Peter, your Highness, I shall join you in a little while, then.”

Joseph gently led Anna out of the dinning room and into the corridor leading to their apartment. Once they were alone, he paused and gave her a quick kiss. “I love you, Anna,” he said softly. “Let’s get you settled; tomorrow is a big day.”

In the dinning room, Peter gave Gwendolyn a smile and a quick nod. Then, turning to the Empress and Emperor, he said, “Uncle David, Aunt Elizabeth, if you will excuse Gwendolyn and I, we should like to have some time together before Joseph joins us.”

Empress Elizabeth smiled and nodded. “Of course. Good night, Peter. Your Highness.”

The Emperor nodded. “Yes, good night. We shall see you both tomorrow.”

Peter turned to Marissa. “Good night, my Lady.” Then, he offered Gwendolyn his hand. “Shall we?”

Ainulindalion smiled brightly at the Knootian Prime Minister. “A member of the Tartarian delegation? More so than not.” He shrugged. “I am not Tartarian, but I am Geh… the Empress’ official escort for the trip, though I wonder if Val pretending that role is actually fooling anyone.” He grinned.

“I shouldn’t bore you with my social life, though, I suppose. At a guess, the question you’re really looking for an answer to is whether or not I hold an official place of any sort in their government. The answer to that is no.” He took a sip of his wine. “I’m here because I like people and food, and there is an abundant supply of both here.”

He met Daatman’s eyes in a most disconcerting way, the hollow blackness revealing an emptiness inside the man of Lord Daniels, as he looked into the Prime Minister’s soul. But then, maybe Knootians were not that superstitious.

But maybe it was not superstition at all. Were the eyes the window to the soul? Daniels grinned again, breaking the possible tension. “Other than the invitation and diplomacy, why exactly are you here, Prime Minister? You, personally, that is.”

Daatman concentrated for a brief moment on the eyes of Daniels before shrugging off the unpleasant feeling that it gave him. The 'emptiness' inside Lord Daniels had not eluded Daatman but he was still unable to place it, mentally.

"Me, personally?" – the question seemed to surprise Daatman a little. "Well, this is a courtesy visit for the groom of Lady Marissa; I suppose" he said with an impish smile, "owing to our alliance with the Resurgent Dream. I must confess that during my life I’ve not been much of a traveller or a diplomat, unlike my friend Mr. de Boer here..." - de Boer gave a brief nod at Daatmans indication - "...so I hope that me and my wife can get to know the Resurgent Dream and its people a little better, as well as the other people invited here."

"A very interesting people", Tim de Boer observed, "Very kind, multicultural… perhaps in a way unspoiled by the great events that shake our time. Their intricate civilisation is admirable, I think.”

"Give me the cities, the flatlands, the rushing seas” Daatman uttered slowly, as if reciting a poem. He smiled melancholic ally and paused for a moment, thinking. "It does not work very well in English," he said nostalgically, "Knootoss has been my home almost all my life, and it has always felt like home – if you know what I am saying. I’ve seen other lands – and my visits have usually been fascinating, wonderfully beautiful, and sometimes scary – but it has never really been like home. Perhaps that is why Irene and me prefer to have our holidays in Iuthia or Pacitalia, which resemble Knootoss in so many ways."

"Still, the Resurgent Dream is a lovely country", Irene commented brightly, looking at Daniels expectantly.

"Oh... we shall see." Andreus replied non-committally in response to the question about whether he could spare Marian for a week. "It's funny... it feels like a very long time since I've been home... I think Her Majesty and I shall spend some time back in New Constantinople towards the end of the year. Perhaps after Madame de Montmanuel gives birth, we shall see."

Gehenna accepted Owain’s invitation and took the seat nearby, her eyes returning to his as she sat down, her smile never disappearing. “I have not had the opportunity of speaking to Lady Marissa since my arrival, I trust that you both are coping with the excitement and nerves that come with marriage.”

Owain sat as well. "We are. I do not think I am allowed to be nervous anymore." he said half-jokingly, but only half.

Laughing lightly, Gehenna nodded. “I think we are allowed to be nervous, we just are not allowed to show it.”

"I trust your accommodations suit you well, Your Majesty?" he inquired politely.

Gehenna nodded, her smile returned. "I have yet to see my accommodation, but I have it on good authority that they are very comfortable." She paused for a moment. "I thank you for your consideration."

"Of course." he said. "We would hardly wish to appear discourteous on your first visit here."

"You have been most courteous." Gehenna smiled, her eyes once more finding Owain's. "I hope that you have settled well into your reign. I was saddened to hear the reports that came out of The Resurgent Dream, which led to your succession. It is never easy taking control of a nation following such an event."

Owain frowned very slightly at her choice of words. "The recent tragedy has deeply wounded the nation, but I do not think it has done irreparable damage so long as people have hope."

Gehenna nodded. "Over coming tragedies make the people of a nation much stronger, and it helps unity. It takes a good leader to lead its people back to strength. I believe that The Resurgent Dream is lucky to have one in you." She paused for a moment, her eyes briefly leaving Owain's face as she thought. "I merely wanted to pay my respects and to tell you that my thoughts were with you all."

"We are quite grateful for your sentiments, Your Majesty. While I must confess that I had no idea that my marriage would be of much diplomatic importance when I arranged it, I am nonetheless happy that my lady and I are bringing our nations closer together. We have had relatively little contact with Tartarus in the past, but all that we have had has been good."

Gehenna smiled. "I have every hope that your marriage will only go about strengthening the relationship that our nations have with each other."

Owain nodded. "The Resurgent Dream and Tartarus already have a number of friends in common, I believe."

"I believe we do." Gehenna paused. "Yet, it is always more rewarding to have a relationship built on personal acquaintence rather than on the back of other friendships."

"It is. And it is rewarding to meet other Chiefs of State in person as well." Owain added. "I am given to understand you are also the Chief of Government as well?"

"I am Head of the Empire, that is true." She nodded her head slightly, her brow furrowed slightly at the change of conversation. "I am privileged to have the final say in everything relating to Tartarus and its people."

Owain arched a brow at her answer. "As am I. However, the Danaan throne is considered to be the keystone of the nation's unity and thus, to preserve its dignity, is required to remain above partisan policy decisions." he said before rising. "I suppose you are eager to see your cousin. It is not my intention to keep you longer."

Gehenna rose from her seat and nodded. "It has been a pleasure meeting with you, Your Majesty. I hope that we get the opportunity to meet again in the future."

"As do I, cousin." he said as he saw her to the door.

The dark-haired man shrugged elaborately, almost carelessly. “I suppose. Once you’ve seen a lot of them, though, they start to run together. I haven’t seen much of Resurgent Dream recently, though I visited it once quite a while back.”

He turned his startling gaze on de Boer. “As for great events, I don’t know that these are, despite the dimensional collision, any greater than those of any other particular time. Certainly, perhaps they involve more beings, but is that really the definition of great? Percentage-wise, I don’t believe they affect any more.” His smile became almost feral in its thoughtfulness. “As for civilization, I think that is merely an excuse sentient beings use to delude themselves into thinking the world is becoming a better place.”

He cast his gaze over the room. “Entropy applies to all things, and civilizations and societies form late in a group’s development. Which means right as things are approaching their most chaotic.”

He carefully left his opinion of the word ‘multicultural’ unmentioned, figuring this would be an interesting enough conversation now that the Knootians had opened the door.

A page approached Grand Duke Mikhail and bowed deeply. "Your Highness, His Majesty would request the pleasure of your company and that of your most noble sister."
...
Marian arched a brow slightly at Andreus's answer. "Did you speak to His Majesty?" she asked him intently.
...
Gwendolyn slid her hand into Peter's. "Of course, Your Highness." She bowed to the Emperor and Empress before heading out with Peter. "So..." she asked with interest when they were alone "...what do you think of my future sister-in-law?"
...
Corrina waited impatiently for the C'tani to respond.
...
D'Anice finally returned inside, reuniting with his wife. The two of them walked back to the throne room, looking quietly around for anyone unengaged.
...
Karamanlis glanced about a moment, looking for who to speak with next.
...
Petros suppressed a yawn, starting to consider heading off for the night and wondering where his father was.

"Oh, but surely it is no mere delusion!", Tim argued, "I mean… we’ve made significant advances, inheriting the contributions of many peoples and cultures and, through mixing and interacting, advanced and widened our horizons. We know so much more nowadays, we can do so much more. The standard of living, our ethical standards… these things have developed markedly over time. Surely, Lord Daniels, you don’t mean to say that nothing has changed since we walked around in bear rugs?"

"The world may be chaotic and violent as it always was", Daatman said solemnly, "But even if a country like ours produced moments of pain and suffering, it has also stored the treasures of knowledge – and at times that knowledge has given rise to science, art and human development. I don't see that development slowing down, rather the contrary I think it is speeding up with all the... dimensional collisions as you call it."

Gehenna was more than a little surprised by the sudden end to their conversation, and for a moment felt very slighted. She ran over the conversation they had shared and could not see what had caused this to take place. Feeling more generous than usual and taking into consideration their farewell, she decided to give an explanation of Owain’s wish to greet all of his guests as a reason, although she could not shake the feeling that all was not well between them.

Re-entering the main room, Gehenna’s gaze swept over the crowd as she looked for Balion. Not that she was expecting him to be causing trouble, but there was always that little doubt in her mind whether he was truly behaving. Her eyes found him quite quickly, and she smiled, seeing that he appeared to be doing little more than helping himself to refreshment. As she made her way through the throng, she realised that he was not alone, and for a moment her heart raced as she saw that he was talking to the Knootian Delegation.

If Gehenna had a religion, she would have taken a moment to pray to the god to ensure that Balion had not done anything that would upset the Knootians, but she did not, so she merely wandered slowly towards where they were standing, as they Knootians did not seem to be displaying any form of anger and appeared to be sharing a normal conversation with him. Feeling more relieved, her more natural smile replaced the forced one that had momentarily held her features, as she walked towards them, not rushing, allowing Balion to enjoy the company.

* * * * *

Lavinia watched as Lord Stratton departed, then turned back to Ygraine, smiling at her question. “Yes, Lord Stratton is still a bachelor. I think he is too busy running around escorting Her Imperial Majesty to have found himself a would-be wife. Not that I think he is looking. And being under thirty, I do not think he has yet run out of options.” She smiled and took a sip of her champagne.

* * * * *

Marissa made her farewells to the Excalbians, having enjoyed a wonderful evening with them. She could feel her stomach begin to jump in hoops as she made her way back to her rooms, her thoughts instantly turning towards the following day. She looked at the main hall, wondering whether she should spend a little time mingling with Owain’s guests, but decided she would have more opportunity tomorrow once she had the wedding firmly behind her and out of her mind.

"I did, yes." Andreus said. And I didn't like the way he couldn't take his eyes off Aurora's neckline either. "I mean Her Majesty and I did, yes. Impressive young man."

An inner voice taunted him with the knowledge that Owain was younger than he and already a monarch in his own right, whereas Andreus would likely have a few decades more to wait until his own coronation.

"I'm sure he'll make a fine king." Andreus added.

The man known to the Knootians as Lord Daniels smiled. “I happen to like my bear rug.” A familiar feeling pressed on a small portion of his consciousness, and his eyes flickered briefly as he found Gehenna returning, making her way through the throng of people, and then the dark, bottomless gaze returned to the Knootian delegation.

The pause was barely noticeable. “Yes, you have made significant advances, true, in your technology. There are ships cruising the oceans of this world that could obliterate this building in seconds, and ships in orbit that could do the same to the entire city even faster. Yes, horizons are wider, but you can reach them faster, and between two horizons, everything can be shattered in an instant now. I don’t know about you, but if that is a step away from chaos, well…” He shrugged.

The onyx gaze shifted to the Prime Minister. “Of course development isn’t slowing down. Entropic decay is exponential.” He sipped his wine. “You yourself provide an excellent example of my point. You refer to science, art, and human development. Even you, from a country as liberal as Knootoss, still refer to it as ‘human.’ What call do you have to say it is merely development of humans and not all sentients? The divisions in civilization exist and are so deeply ingrained you don’t even begin to realize they exist. The elements of chaos claw at you every day, and your civilization is your last stand against the reality of nature. Look at the great civilizations of the past, Sumerian, Greek, Egyptian, Roman, Babylonian. All of these reached the height of their power to collapse into chaos. And each time, the collapse was worse than the one before it. Entropy. The hand of a chaotic universe steadily moving towards its own destruction. Total order from total chaos. Government is merely a player in a game it cannot win.”

Daatman looked down a little as the man spoke, the idea of massed destruction (and the proverbial red button he was sitting on himself now) had been being disturbing enough to the Knootian ex-mayor of The Hague without this latest reminder. A little uncomfortable, he looked again at Lord Daniels as Tim de Boer began to reply.

"Technology isn’t solely used to destroy, it has just as well be used to create", Tim retorted with an intrigued smile, "and I’d like to think that there are other advances besides those. Mr. Daatman mentioned economic, moral, and artistic advancements,” he wavered for a moment, “I suppose that you can only believe that the potential for destruction outweighs the potential for creation with a very pessimistic picture of what sentient beings are.”

Grinning amused at his younger companion, Daatman spoke up himself.

"Well, in my defence, I am trying not to use the word human in these cases," Daatman said with a grin. "Sentient Development would be the P.C. term, I suppose, but I’ve never said ‘human’ with any speciest motives." He sighed a little, having mixed experiences with the ‘P.C. brigade’ as it was known back home. “Instead, I consider myself to be the personal representative of humans, elves and all sorts of other non-human species that call Knootoss home, and they are all equally precious to me." He paused bemused for a moment. "I try to be as inclusive as I can, but you are correct that some historical divisions are not easily challenged. Still - for all our flaws, I suppose that we are managing fairly well. It would be hard, I think, to live and try to improve the world subscribing to some fatalistic idea of inevitable decay. Even if you may well be correct."

"Where are you from, if I may ask?", Irene Daatman interjected with a polite smile, "Your philosophy is so very different from any I’ve heard of."

Balion was finding this debate, and frankly, the ignorance of the humans, to be fairly amusing. Of course, they could not be blamed for not knowing how the universe was going to end. He was not entirely sure himself, but entropic decay was inevitable. It was definitely even more evident when you lived long enough to observe it happening.

He sipped his wine, allowing the flavor of the rather dry red to roll across his tongue before swallowing. “True, technology has advanced science and commerce and artistic expression,” he interrupted himself to grin. “Though one could argue strongly against the case of modern art being advanced. Despite this, you would find it hard to deny that most, if not all, technical advance is driven by military pressure, with the results later filtering down into the other parts of society, either because they must to advance the military agenda or because they have been around long enough that putting them in the civilian market is not longer a threat.” His gaze penetrated de Boer in an odd manner, as if divining something about him. “And I’m sure you’ve encountered people who considered your moral advancement to be just the opposite, Mister de Boer.”

The emptiness shifted over to Daatman. “I was not trying to imply that you were acting improperly, Minister, just that the division are impossible to overcome, even for an intelligent, well educated leader such as yourself, when you do not force yourself to think about it. It just feels, to an extent, I’m sure, unnatural. As for everything seems to be going well, well, I’m sure you’ve possibly seen more entertainments than I have, Minister. What happens every time after a main character says ‘Everything is going well?’” The being in dark haired avatar grinned, and shifted his gaze to the only female in the group.

“I came here from Tartarus, Misses Daatman, but even there, I and my philosophy are quite unique.” He wondered if they would pick up on his evasion, as it was easier than the truth, for certain.

"Well, we don’t all develop at the same pace", Tim said a little more defensively than he had intended - or the remark seemed to call for on the surface. Suddenly he found the prying eyes of the stranger becoming very unpleasant, even if they did not (it seemed) imply malice or intention to slight. "There are several theories of technological advance, some being innovation and exploration-driven, while others would argue it is Market-driven. Personally, I have not ruled out random chance quite yet."

Daatman, for his part, grinned and knocked his hand under the table with refreshments three times as if to ward off the danger presented to him while his wife frowned.

"I recall that you were not Tartarian, though?", she asked innocently. Ever the attentive lady, she noticed at this point that Empress Gehenna was approaching.

Balion smiled friendily at Tim. “There are many theories about many things. Some of them may even be correct, as for myself, I’ll subscribe to what my personal observation suggests to me, and that is that the cutely phrased ‘Second Law of Thermodynamics,’ or everything is steadily going to Hell, is essentially correct, in the long term.”

Admittedly, his personal observation would not appear very long, as he was perhaps in his late twenties to someone who did not know the truth, but being alive since the dawn of time gave one a certain… different… perspective.

“And speaking of Hell,” he said with a smile, reaching out and taking Gehenna’s hand, “might I introduce to you its finest angel, Empress Gehenna of Tartarus.” He gently pulled her to his side and leaned his head down to give her a chaste kiss on the cheek, murmuring “Missed you,” at the same time. He looked back at the Knootians, gesturing with his now empty wine glass as he spoke. “Gehenna, this is Prime Minister and Lady Daatman of the Dutch Democratic Republic of Knootoss, and Mister Tim de Boer of the same.”

As he introduced Gehenna, he managed to neatly shift the focus off of him, and where he was from. Or, at least, he hoped he did.

He had no desire to play with these nice people's minds more than he had to, so if he could get them onto another subject, it would work far better.

“Buona notte, Colonello”, Nathicana replied, inclining her head, then watching the man walk away with a thoughtful expression, quietly drawing close to Massetti again and taking his arm.

“You know, Mas … perhaps people could do with a bit more ‘shock’ now and then. Look around – leadership as a whole seems to be what I’ve always said – far too decadent and ‘above it all’. No, not everyone, and not intended to be insulting. After all, royalty is above the common man in matters of control and power, and always has been, traditionally. Still …”

She sipped her drink in silence for a few more minutes, observing what groupings had developed, what subtle nuances she could pick up from bearing and ‘tells’ from a distance. And making note once again of exits and things that could be used in defense, and alternative routes should a hasty retreat be in order …

Mas noted the increasing tension, the way she gripped his arm just a little tighter, though she’d never admit it. “Would you like to refill your drink, m’lady? See a few more people before the night is over? Or perhaps you’d prefer a hot bath and some tea back at the room?” He spoke casually, looking around the room with his usual, relaxed half-smile.

“I’m not a child, Mas. You needn’t mother-hen me,” she grumbled quietly – always a good sign in his experience. “I admit there are several. Lady Destra, for example. Cesare gave such a complimentary report ...” Another long pause as she considered, while he waited patiently. “Perhaps just a little longer. Here, lets make our way over. Perhaps I can catch her when she’s finished with her current conversation. I wouldn’t wish to interrupt.”

After a brief stop for a glass of wine, they slowly made their way in Destra’s direction, keeping enough distance so as not to intrude.

Gehenna smiled, her eyes taking in the three Knootians that had been cornered by Balion, while she hoped that nothing untoward had passed during their conversation. It was not that she did not trust Balion to behave, she knew that he had a strict set of rules, but it was not beyond him to play with people. She let her eyes linger on each of the three as she greeted them in turn.

“Prime Minister Daatman, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She presented her hand to shake his, before turning slightly to his wife. “Mrs Daatman.” She merely met the lady’s eye with a smile before continuing on to the last of the Knootians. “Mr De Boer.”

Shaking each of their hands as she spoke, she looked briefly at Balion, her eyes meeting his before she looked back at the Knootian Prime Minister. “I do hope that I have not interrupted your conversation.” She then fell silent, allowing the Knootians to speak.

* * * * *

Marissa made her way passed the throng, managing to get away with little more than a few smiles, stopping only once or twice to greet anyone she knew, which fortunately was not that many. She wondered how many she would get the chance to meet properly once she was officially accepted into The Resurgent Dream.

She continued along the path that would finally take her to her parents’ room, as she had promised that she would spend some time with them once she was free. And it was only minutes later that she knocked and entered her. She beamed happily as she saw her mother sitting in the chair, and it was with her usual buoyant behaviour that she walked over.

“Mama, you should have seen the Coronation, it was…” She came to a stuttering halt as her eyes fell upon Ygraine. She dropped into a curtsey, the smile wiped from her face. “Your Highness.” She looked over at her mother as if she expected her to explain the situation.

“Ah, Issi.” Lavinia stood up from her seat and turned towards her daughter. “Dear, Ygraine has honoured us with a visit.” She looked towards a spare seat. “Why do you not come and join us in a drink?”

Taking a step forward, finding her tongue once more, she moved towards the empty chair indicated and lowered herself down into it. “Thank you, Mama.” She smiled, once more feeling more herself.

“Elizabeth, will you get Issi some champagne?” Lavinia turned back from her youngest daughter as she rose from her seat to fulfil her mother’s request. “I was not expecting you to visit so soon, Issi? Is everything going well?”

Marissa nodded. “Yes, Mama. The Coronation was wonderful and I have left His Majesty greeting his guests.” She looked briefly at Ygraine and smiled. “It was a privilege to be able to witness the event for myself.”

The Grand Duke inclined his head slightly to the page, acknowledging the invitation. “Then we shall see His Majesty. Lead the way.” With that he followed the page, giving a quick glance at Kshas-Ker, who was trailing them like a shadow, and gave him a slight nod, with the man nodding back and breaking off, vanishing among the guests.

His eyes then quickly traveled to a table with refreshments by which the Dukes Nakhart and Vereslavskiy, respectively the Speakers of the Grand Ducal Duma and of the Grand Ducal Senate, talked, soon joined by Colonel Kiltharan of the Leib-guards. The Taraskovyan Ambassador was nearby, chatting with some other guest that did not seem overly important.

Having registered in his mind where the main dignitaries composing his delegation were, Mikhail quickly made some mental notes and then simply followed the page, sharing a couple words with Vethara in Taraskath.

Owain stood as Mikhail and Vethara were shown in, smiling faintly. "Your Highnesses, welcome to the Resurgent Dream."
...
Ygraine smiled warmly at Marissa, rising as the lady entered the room and returning her curtsey. She sat back down and looked at the young woman as she spoke. "It was your right, my lady. Tommorrow, you will be a queen."
...
"I have no doubt of it." Morgan answered Andreus confidently, as she spoke with him, Destra, and Marian. "And Her Ladyship promises to be a fine High Queen as well."

Morgan glanced briefly at the approaching Nathicana. She wondered if Andreus had said something offensive that Nathicana was now coming to make a fuss over. Shrugging off the thought, she glanced to the Pantocratorian prince. "I have heard geography can be an issue in marriages where both spouses hold positions in their own right."
...
Sir Alfred, still drinking by himself, turned his gaze to Gehenna, her escort, and the Knootians. He snorted lightly to himself. Knootians! They were just as useless as Pantocratorians and didn't even have the excuse of being inbred aristocrats. Fortunately, he was wise enough to keep his opinions to himself, at least for now, as he stood out of the way and got quietly drunk.
...
Corrina was getting rather bored waiting for evidence that the C'tani was alive and started looking around again. She glanced back over to where the Knootians were talking to Gehenna now. Mrs. Daatman sure was nice. Her kids probably liked their Mom. Corrina assumed she had kids. Most politicians did. It was good for the image.

"Well, it isn't an unbearable impediment, Lavenrunz is quite a lovely place, beautiful countryside, magnificent forests, and both her cities and her palaces have a deserved reputation for comfort and civilisation." Andreus replied. He then added at a mutter. "Too bad about all the boorish Lavenrunzians living there."

He smiled and moved right along.

"I do miss New Constantinople now and again. But I'm fortunate in that Her Majesty has agreed to spend a fifth of the year with me there, which I know doesn't sound equitable, but believe me, it is very difficult for a head of state to be absent from her realm for a fifth of the year..." Andreus explained.

Gehenna smiled, her eyes taking in the three Knootians that had been cornered by Balion, while she hoped that nothing untoward had passed during their conversation. It was not that she did not trust Balion to behave, she knew that he had a strict set of rules, but it was not beyond him to play with people. She let her eyes linger on each of the three as she greeted them in turn.

“Prime Minister Daatman, it is a pleasure to meet you.” She presented her hand to shake his, before turning slightly to his wife. “Mrs Daatman.” She merely met the lady’s eye with a smile before continuing on to the last of the Knootians. “Mr De Boer.”

Shaking each of their hands as she spoke, she looked briefly at Balion, her eyes meeting his before she looked back at the Knootian Prime Minister. “I do hope that I have not interrupted your conversation.” She then fell silent, allowing the Knootians to speak.

“Not at all Your Imperial Majesty”, Daatman said with friendly and sincere congeniality. It was clear that he was a little impressed with Gehenna in person, and he continued with a bashful flair, “I would be hard-pressed to tell at home that an Empress interrupted any sort of conversation, no matter how diverting”, the Knootian said with a quick nod of acknowledgement to Balion.

“In fact I am very happy to see you here. As you might have heard I was elected only very recently, and therefore I am most eager to get to know other world leaders personally, especially an esteemed one such as yourself.”

What an insufferable ass. What on earth did someone as bright and promising as Aurora ever see in the pompous bastard?

Nathicana looked for all the world as if she were as content as could be, talking quietly with Mas, and casually observing the goings on without any signs of derision or irritation. Such things as misdirection, masking one's true feelings or intent, and observing social politeness even if others lacked were standard skills in the more competitive circles of the Dominion. Nathi was more adept than most, when she chose.

Decadence, weakness, and bold-faced disrespect were more than enough for her to be disgusted with Andreus. The fact that he made his wife look poorly on account, being so rude behind her back ...

Antiquis temporibus, nati tibi similes in rupibus ventosissimis exponebantur ad necem, Andreus. A pity in your case they chose not to continue the tradition.

"Gehenna certainly looks beautiful tonight," she remarked casually to Mas, nodding in the Empress' direction. "But then she is usually the very picture of class and good taste, no? I'll definitely have to at least say hello at some point. Rather nice to see allies in something other than an official capacity."

"Mmmhmmm ... not to mention, she's a babe," Mas replied under his breath, earning him a subtle dig in the ribs. His unrepentant smile only widened. "Well, she is."

"Hush, you."




Trans: In the good old days, children like you were left to perish on windswept crags. (No, I couldn't resist, thanks. *grins*)

De Vere debated his responses for a moment. A dozen responses danced through his mind, ranging from ‘go away’ to ‘if I were to become any more bored, I’d be able to be used as material for packing crates.’

Instead he settled on something far more outlandish, and hopped to his feet with surprising speed and dexterity, given his apparent age. “Well, there doesn’t seem to be much happening, and please, no Grace, this duke nonsense is thoroughly silly. I’m no nobler than anyone else. And considerably less noble than most!” He exclaimed in a loud but somehow calm voice, with a slight, perhaps affected, drawl to it.

He snapped the functional end of the cane he carried against the floor soundlessly, and extended his hand to catch the silvered pommel on the bounce, as if to add more to his strange manner.

The Grand Duke and the Archduchess greeted the High King in Taraskovyan fashion, making a quick, yet elegant gesture with their hands, before Mikhail spoke. “We are grateful for your Majesty’s invitation to your realms.” He paused for a second before continuing. “And since Taraskovyan custom forbid us to come empty handed, we wish to present your Majesty with a gift.”

With that the Grand Duke reached into his vest and extracted a small case, made of black leather and engraved with the High Kingdom’s coat of arms. The Taraskovyan ruler opened it, revealing an elegant, thin and narrow object that lay on a cushion. “I shall not spare my words and claim that this is a true wonder. Not that much because of its craftsmanship, but for the fact that the best craftsmen of both the Orlov and the Tal-Nash houses joined forces to create it.”

Mikhail stepped up to Owain and presented him with the gift, which was a finely crafted pen made of several big emeralds held together by a thin web of gold that formed intricate motives on the surface of it. “In the world of today, a Ruler must be a skilled diplomat and negotiator to arrange for his realms to be prosperous and peaceful. The power of treaties and conventions outweighs that of rifles and swords. And to create the treaties, you need an appropriate tool.”

The pen, despite its apparent fragile state, was in fact quite solid and rested perfectly in the hand, offering for a comfortable grip and a nice flow of writing.

Owain reached out to take the gift, examining it closely as though appraising the fine workmanship. "A most worthy gift from worthy guests." he commented.

Mikhail simply inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement, just as Vethara smiled. “I also had a gift for your and her Majesties. But it is actually a tea service for use in family.” She paused for a second.

“So if your guards find a young Taraskovyan officer with a box who calls himself the adjutant of the Taraskovyan Ambassador, you can claim the box. The Ambassador informed me that he somehow lost his adjutant in amongst all the guests.” She laughed lightly.

Owain laughed as well. "Well, it is a rather crowded palace today. Would Your Highnesses care to sit?"

The Grand Duke and the Archduchess made themselves comfortable, waiting for the High King to do as much. “In the name of the Grand Duchy, I also want to express my gratitude to the High Kingdom for offering aid and refuge to those loyal to the cause of the Grand Duchy, to its history and traditions.” Mikhail said as he glanced over at Vethara before looking back at Owain.

Owain sat as they did. "We simply did what duty required of us. It would ill suit us to recognize an unlawful government simply because, by force, they managed to secure control of a territory."

Mikhail chuckled and smiled, remembering all the little interesting and dirty details that were behind his return to power. But nobody needed to know them. “Indeed, I have to agree. And now, there are no longer two Grand Duchies.”

He glanced at Vethara again, who smiled as her brother looked back at Owain. “And for the sake of consistency, I took the decision to leave Ambassador Slavosonov at the post of Grand Ducal Ambassador to the High Kingdom, unless your Majesty voices opposition to such a nomination, of course.”

"I would not presume to question your choice of ambassador, Your Highness." Owain answered pleasantly.

“Then so it shall be.” The Grand Duke inclined his head in acknowledgement.

"We are currently selecting a new ambassador to the Grand Duchy." he added.

“We shall be looking forward to meeting him in person.” Vethara said with a smile, her brother simply nodding a little to confirm his sister’s words.

"Have you, by any chance, had the opportunity to meet Her Ladyship yet?" he inquired.

“Unfortunately, we did not have the honour of meeting her Ladyship as of yet.” Mikhail responded.

“But we hope to see her Majesty tomorrow.” Vethara added with a smile, already calling Marissa by her future style.

Owain grinned slightly. "I am sure she looks forward to meeting you as well. She is very excited at meeting her guests."

“Her Ladyship will be very excited to get rid of them as soon as possible once she sees the herd charging her to congratulate and say hello.” Mikhail said in a special, slightly sarcastic, yet somehow serious tone. “But well, these are all the beauties of life that go with big titles.”

Owain simply nodded. "We all have our duties, great and small." He paused a moment. "Again, I am very glad you chose to attend." he said, starting to rise. "I look forward to seeing you at the ceremony."

Mikhail followed in the High King’s path, rising from his seat and looking at the High King. “Then at the ceremony we shall be.” He said casually, yet Vethara smiled broadly. “Thank you for your time, your Majesty.”

"And thank you." he said, showing them out.

Gehenna smiled, her eyes never moving from the Prime Minister’s face. “I did indeed hear that you had been elected, Mr Daatman, and it is a pleasure to be able to meet you in person. And if I may, belatedly, congratulate you on your success.” Her eyes flicked briefly around the others in the group to ensure them that they were a part of the conversation. “Like you, I am most interested in meeting other world leaders, especially those that The Empire of Tartarus has some connection with.”

Her eyes briefly met Balion’s with a smile, before returning her attention back to the Knootians. “I assume you have been properly introduced to Lord Daniels.” She indicated the man beside her. “I know that at such venues it can be difficult to receive a full list of attendees.” She paused briefly, her eyes once more flicking over the three Knootians. She did not go into any further detail than his name, sure that preliminary introductions had been made. “This is our first visit to The Resurgent Dream, is the same true for yourselves?”

* * * * *

Marissa nodded her head slightly and smiled at Ygraine, still feeling a little surprised to see her with her mother. “Yes, tomorrow I shall, but today I like to think of myself as honoured to be invited to His Majesty’s Coronation, to be a part of one of the biggest occasions that will happen in his lifetime.” She looked up briefly as she saw her sister arrive with her glass.

Waiting for the younger woman to return to her seat, Marissa looked at her mother and then back at Ygraine as she raised her glass. “May I propose a toast to His Majesty, High King Owain?” She paused for a moment. “May his reign be a long and trouble free one, and may he experience nothing but happiness.”

Lavinia and Elizabeth raised their glass in toast. “To His Majesty, High King Owain.” The three Tartarian women brought their glasses to their lips and took a sip.

Fate was not with Nathicana and Destra. Earlier, Nathicana's turn to meet the new king had come while Destra was heading her way. Now, the reverse happened. A page approached Destra and bowed. "Begging your pardon, Your Ladyship, His Majesty would wish to receive you."
...
Morgan smiled at Naticana, curtseying slightly as the Imperatrice drew closer to the small cluster. "Your Imperial Majesty..." she said, drawing the attention of Marian and Andreus to the Imperatrice's presence.

Marian was grateful for the excuse to keep her opinion on Lavenrunzians, whom she found intolerable, Andreus's wife included, to herself, and also curtsied to Nathicana.
...
Ygraine smiled warmly at Marissa. "Tomorrow, you also become my daughter." she said, perhaps making the girl slightly nervous, although she meant it nicely.

When the Tartarans raised their glasses, Ygraine raised hers as well. "To His Majesty."
...
Corrina looked at the trick he was doing with his cane with interest. "Ok. That's good. I don't really like all these noble titles anyway. I don't even know what an Apostle is." she said, apparently referring to the Pantocratorian Emperor's title. "So do you always do that thing with your cane?"

Andreus bowed to Nathicana with his usual practised courtesy and flourish, and then bade farewell to Lady Destra in a similar fashion.

"I trust Your Majesty's meeting with the High King went well?" Andreus asked the self-righteous Dread Lady. "His Majesty is an impressive young man, do you not agree?"

Seeing the messenger call Destra away, Nathi cursed fluently – in her head, her expression relaxed save for the brief tightening around her eyes.

Oh damn the timing tonight!

She affected a brief look of surprise as Morgan addressed her, glancing around quickly as if to make sure it were she being addressed. After all, the place was thick with Imperials and the like, so such would be understandable, no? She nodded and smiled warmly before stepping over as was only polite. She addressed Andreus first, being familiar with him at least, and as he had responded.

“Your Highness,” she said with a proper enough inclination of her head. “I rather enjoyed my conversation with him, yes. I’m looking forward to working with him in the future. A good man, I think, from first impressions. He certainly seems to have his nation’s interest at heart, which is admirable.”

She turned then to Morgan and Marian. “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure? My sincere apologies if I should know better. I’m afraid several memories of this place are hazy at best, if not missing entirely, and with all those in attendance tonight, I’ve found myself getting names and faces all too easily mixed. And please,” she said earnestly. “Simply ‘Nathicana’ will do. The fine gentleman accompanying me is Angelus Massetti, my chief of security, and escort for this occasion.”

Mas bowed to both the ladies and Andreus, going so far as to kiss each ladies hand if they allowed – that is, brushing his lips just above as their tradition dictated, all with his boyish lopsided smile that seemed as natural to him as breathing.

“Mi piacere, Signoras.” he said simply. My pleasure, mi’ladies.

"Permit me to introduce Your Majesty to Her Royal Highness Grand Duchess Morgan, His Majesty's sister," Andreus said, introducing Nathicana to Morgan, and then to Marian. "And to Mademoiselle la Comtesse d'Armenstar. Mesdemoiselles, Her Majesty the Imperatrice of the Dominion."

Marian could tell by the look in his eyes that he had thought briefly of calling her by another name in accordance with the demands of the Danaan herald upon their arrival, but decided against it. After all, Marian was the rightful Countess of Armenstar, and Andreus was determined that she was not to be robbed of her birthright. When Mas bowed, Andreus offered him his hand to shake, as he wondered to himself why a head of state would condescend to allow a mere security functionary to escort her to such an important event.

Peter held Gwendolyn’s hand close to his side as they made their way down the corridor. “Lady Marissa seems quite nice. She really seemed to get along well with my aunt and uncle. I just hope all that… family stuff didn’t put her off in any way; their Imperial Majesties tend to take family seriously. Perhaps too seriously.” Peter turned to Gwendolyn and smiled. “And I hope their going on about the wedding tomorrow and nerves didn’t trouble you too much…”

* * *

Princess Christiana finished her drink and immediately took another from a passing waiter. She smiled and said, “Thank you.” She was – uncharacteristically – feeling a bit like a wallflower. In fact, had the waiter been a bit handsomer and taller she might have chatted him up out of sheer boredom.

The princess looked around the room. She would have introduced herself to the attractive Tartarian ruler, but she was occupied with Knootians at the moment. And Christiana had no desire to talk with a Knootian.

Then, she spotted Andreus. She had little desire to talk with him, but she found herself wondering whether one of the women with him might be the reconstituted… that did not sound like the right word, but she could not think of another… Countess Marian. And the imperial looking lady with them seemed interesting as well.

Christiana finished her drink. Another lady, without her years of practice, would have been tipsy by this point, but the princess was sure she felt no ill effects.

Christiana, wearing an elegant shimmering blue gown approached Andreus and the others. She stood quietly for a moment to see if Andreus or perhaps Marian, if it were Marian, might recognize her.

"What? No, not at all, it was just a spur of the moment thing. Would you care to go anywhere or do anything, or just stand around and chit-chat?"

"Ah, Your Highness!" Andreus smiled and nodded politely to acknowledge Christiana as she joined the little group, hoping to conceal his embarrassment at seeing Christiana (after the display she had witnessed at New Constantinople at the beginning of the year) with charm. "Mesdemoiselles, Your Majesty, may I present Her Imperial Highness Princess Christiana of Excalbia? Your Highness, Her Majesty the Imperatrice of the Dominion, Her Highness the Grand Duchess Morgan, and of course you remember the Countess of Armenstar?"

No sooner had Andreus made the introductions than his aunt, Princess Irene entered the room, fresh from brushing Theodora's hair in the Pantocratorian Imperial Family's suites. Her characteristically grave gaze passed over the chamber, settling eventually on her nephew, who naturally noticed her in her stark black clothes immediately.

Merde... Andreus thought as he watched Irene drift towards him (and the rest of the group). It wasn't that he found his aunt intimidating (at least, it wasn't just that he found her intimidating), but also that she had a gift for sucking the joy out of any occasion, and he had hoped for the conversation to get going again once all the introductions were over.

"Begging your pardon, Your Ladyship, His Majesty would wish to receive you."

Destra nodded, and began to walk along side the page. Turning around for a few seconds, Destra bowed towards Andreus, Morgan, and everyone else within a short proximity of them, while noticing that again, she missed the opportunity to talk with Nathicana.

She walked over to her and whispered, "I would be honoured to sit down with you and talk; perhaps after His Majesty and I are done with our discussion?" She smiled back at Nathicana and walked with the page towards where His Majesty resided.

Owain stood again as Lady Destra was led into the room. "Thank you for coming, Your Ladyship. I am sorry that you had to wait. I hope you have been enjoying yourself thus far."
...
The two Danaan women made courtesy to Nathicana. "It is a pleasure, Your Majesty." Morgan said, giving a little smile to Mass as well. She offered her hand.

"An honor to meet you both." said Marian with a polite smile. She offered her hand as well.

Morgan and Marian both curtseyed to Princess Christiana as she came over. "Your Highness." they said almost in unison. Both women blushed slightly and gave one another an amused smile when they spoke at the same time. Fortunately, neither had noticed Irene yet.
...
"Could we go get ice cream?" Corrina asked Paul de Vere. Ice cream was quite yummy.
...
"Well, they were worried over nothing." Gwendolyn answered her fiance. "I do wish they had dropped it after I had told them that I was fine."

It takes a talented diplomat to blend into a crowd he doesn't fit in, especially when he's not an elected representative among autocrats but a bright orange color and standing at least a good half-meter over everyone else.

Speaker's had a long time to hone this skill. Generally tending away from the more effete crowd serves two purposes: one, there's no need to worry about potentially offending some sort of hyper"civilized" sensitivity, and two, the cultures which tend to fall into that decadently self-aggrandizing crowds tend to be on the way out and aren't worth the effort anyway. He's tried to relate, sincerely; given that the title of 'Supreme Emperor' is simply meant to sound impressive more than anything else, it doesn't help; even trying to relate as autocratic Patriarch fails as it is more of a spiritual cultural title and even then he was elected to it. That was the only fair way, after all, with no line of succession to the last...

But yes, the strategy of this Hunt is to just mill about, talking politely as others seem willing, and keeping cool. Hanging around people convinced of their worth by birth is always good practice for that last.

Jan Willem Daatman looked at his wife first, smiling before his eyes darted back again to Gehenna and Lord Daniels in turn.

“It is a first time visit for me and Irene”, Daatman said with a smile, “We both have busy careers that have not permitted us to travel a lot, unfortunately. As I was telling Lord Daniels, I’ve always been rather attached to life in Knootoss itself and haven’t left the country as much as is perhaps the norm for most Knootians in my position. My last extended stay abroad was rather forced, when our government was evacuated to Lavenrunz during the Shadow War about seventeen years ago.”

“Not counting our holidays in Iuthia and Pacitalia”, Irene added. “Which were rather more pleasant experiences, in spite of the gracious hospitality offered by the Lavenrunzians during the war.”

“True”, Jan Willem conceded, extending his hand in the direction of Tim de Boer. “My friend Mr. De Boer here has visited the Resurgent Dream several times before, though. Courtesy of extended service in the diplomatic corps.”

“Indeed I have had that honour”, Tim said after he had bowed his head slightly towards Gehenna as a sign of respect.

“Your Majesty,” Princess Christiana said to Nathicana with a slight bow. “It is a pleasure to meet you.”

She turned and nodded to the two Danaan. “Your Highness,” she said to the Grand Duchess, “it is a pleasure to be here in your charming capital.” Then, with a smile, she inclined her head towards Marian. “It is truly a pleasure to see you again, your Excellency. I had heard about the terrible events here and had feared for your safety. I am sure that the people of Mortville rejoice with me that you have weathered the storm.”

Turning back to Andreus, she said, “I trust His Highness has been on his best behaviour.” She gave Andreus a wink. “He is quite famous for his sharp wit and beguiling charm…”

Nathicana nodded and smiled at Destra as she whispered her brief message. “I look forward to it,” she replied quietly as the Lady turned to leave.

So many pretty ladies, and every one of them out of reach. Alas ... After finishing greeting Marian and Morgan, Mas shook hands with Andreus, then quietly stepped back as others came to join the group, keeping near enough for Nathi’s comfort, and not so close as to ‘intrude’ on the gathering of aristocracy. He knew well enough why he was here rather than someone else, even if it might be a mystery to some of the royals. Nathicana trusted him – simple as that. Even if the Emperor had been available, they’d have had several security officers with them. After things that had happened in the past, that’s just how things were.

“Your Grace, Lady d’Armenstar,” Nathi replied with a warm smile to both. She started to say more when Andreus introduced Christiana, to whom she nodded and smiled as well. “Your Highness. An honor to meet you all.” If she disagreed with Christiana’s assessment of Andreus, she gave no sign, nor did she comment on his ‘best behaviour’. Deception had it’s time and place – this was neither.

“It’s good to be able to return here during a time of celebration, especially after the recent events that have troubled your people,” she said instead, referencing Her Highness’ earlier comment to the Danaan ladies. “I’d like to say I have more fond memories than I do, but I’m afraid given the Samhain celebration’s nature, all I have is what passed before and after.” Nathi shrugged slightly, and smiled again trying to show that she held no ill will on account of any of it whatsoever.

Turning more serious, she inclined her head in an expression of some reverence. “All the same, you have my sympathies, and admiration as a people for having weathered your troubles as well as you have. I do hope that things continue to improve.”

She too had not yet noticed Irene, but she had caught sight of a familiar, and much beloved tall, orange, furred leader quietly observing the goings-on. I’m not sure he would thank me or not were I to pull him into all this. Given Andreus’ ‘charm’, I could see Speeks happily eviscerating the little weasel. Pity it’s such a public event, and my dear friend has such excellent control. If he could avoid ripping Carlos’ head off, I imagine he could resist just about anything.

Nathi tried subtly to at least catch his eye if she could, offering him the choice to join them if he chose, trying to telegraph silently that she was very pleased to see him. It would have been rude to break away just after having been introduced, and getting to know other leaders and those circulating within friendly governments was after all, important. Besides, these ladies seemed to be pleasant people, even if Christiana’s character judgment seemed to her to be a bit ... off. Lord knows she'd made similar mistakes herself.

There's arguably a certain amount of skill involved in skirting the edges of conversation without being noticed, denoting either a practiced diplomat such as Speaker, or an inherent introvert such as Kira. Either way, Kira drifts with around the hall with just enough purpose to not seem bored, aimless, or lost. This tactic usually works to keep away conversation, even if she is not purposefully using it for that end. It is questionable if she is aware of it.

She is aware that she has absolutely no idea who most of those present are, excluding Speaker. There was only one Kzin invited, as far as she is aware, and that makes the chances of her being wrong only slightly lower than normal. Kira knows perfectly well her luck never swings out of 'bad'. Either way, she has to do something and with the Segments, or at least TME, now in posession of the FDK's entire superluminal tech base, there's some reason for starting some sort of conversation with him. The issue is, she notes, that the FDK has no need for thatvery same production capability, for now, and in any case it'd be the domain of METI and MinForeign, both of which are much better equipped for her job. Thus, the issue of once again, her wondering why she is even there, which she realizes doesn't matter much because she is somehow close enough to Speaker to make another attempt at conversation which, for a Weyrean, always starts with the same exact phrase.

"How's life?"

"With the exception, perhaps, of some of my comedic theatre productions, eh, Your Highness?" Andreus replied to Christiana's remark with an uncharacteristic self-deprecating half-smile.

"Your Highness' comedic theatre productions are always an exception of some sort." said Princess Irene coldly as she joined the conversation.

"Quite." Andreus replied, the smile fading from his face and turning into a somewhat dour expression similar to the one his father almost perenially wore. "Your Majesty, Your Highnesses, Mademoiselle la Comtesse, Monsieur Massetti, may I present my aunt, Her Highness Princess Irene?"

Irene's disapproving glance passed over each in turn. A titled strumpet, a lesbian harlot, a Nestorian heretic, another lesbian harlot, and a guard. Irene observed to herself. Wonderful.

"An honour to meet you all." she replied although her voice didn't exactly sound thrilled. Those who had encountered Irene before knew not to be particularly offended however, as the spinster princess always sounded like that.

"We were just discussing what an awful business the Shattering was..." Andreus attempted.

"Indeed?" Irene asked, showing no obvious interest.

Christiana inclined her head slightly as she listened to Nathicana. "Yes, it is good to see such a wonderful celebration taking place here after such troubling times. And it is made even more joyous by seeing the Countess Marian healthy and whole." Christiana smiled and nodded towards Marian. She turned back to Nathicana. "This Samhain celebration you mentioned, your Majesty, sounds rather intriguing; I am sorry I missed it."

Christiana smiled and nodded her head slightly to Irene as she spoke. The princess gave the spinster a sympathetic but somewhat condescending smile. The poor old hag, Christiana thought, she doesn't look like she's a moment of joy since the end of the Spanish Inquisition.

"It is a delight to see you again, your Highness. Your nephew, his Despotic Highness, is quite the playwright. And quite the playful charmer. You must be quite proud of him."

Christiana continued to smile with practiced, nearly professional, sincerity. "And we were just commenting on how wonderful it is that the Danaan High Kingdom has survived the Shattering and that, having weathered the storm, it is now able to celebrate so many joyous occasions at one time." Christiana's voice took on a warm tone of genuine emotion. "We are particularly grateful that the Countess Marian survived. She has made such a positive contribution to welfare of the people of New Constantinople. Truly, Pantocratoria has been enriched by her presence."

Christiana looked deeply into Irene's eyes. "Tomorrow must be a special day for you, your Highness; seeing the second of your nieces married. And to such a fine husband."

"How's life?"
Speaker looks down at the elf, mostly because he has no choice. Years of experience help him to make it look polite, at least. Thanks to the usual IntRelate S.O.P. of reading up on the dossiers of important bigwigs who are going to be at functions and those dossiers having photographs, there's no way he wouldn't recognize Kira. Those... ears...

"The Hunt goes well, ma'am," he replies with a short bow, deciding introductions are obviously unneccessary. "I have always enjoyed seeing new sights and meeting new people. Do you know King Owain? I am afraid I do not know him as well as I ought." Was he really looking for the half-trade of people, or was it just a poor choice of words?

Glancing over, he sees the Dread Lady and her eyes, still having that instinctive quality all good predators do of catching pupils due to the potential of them being something of a threat. "Ah, I am being summoned by a friend. Will you join me?" Escorting Kira whichever way seems most polite (no matter the amount of mindbending it would offer to the rest of the crowd), he joins Nathi in the group with a respectful bow.

"Speaker-Rrit of the Federated Segments," he introduces himself politely, then waits to catch the flow of the conversation.

It might have been a bit spooky for Mas when Ainulindalion caught his eye in short order after his comment on Gehenna, and when the dark haired man gave him a knowing wink, but to the man styling himself Lord George Oliver Daniels, he really did not care what the bodyguard and escort from the Dominion thought.

But he did rather amuse himself. Keenly interested in the goings on around him, he could feel the tension beginning to grow in the other group as Gehenna and the Knootians finished their opening pleasantries, and allowed himself to refocus on the conversation at hand.

At the mention of the Shadow war and its extended time period before, he allowed himself a small laugh at the fractal nature of reality, internally, of course, as Gehenna had ruled during that conflict, and yet, seventeen years previous, she had been just learning to talk well…

No matter.

“I suppose Knootians would find Iuthia or Pactalia soothing reminders of home. Me though, I prefer to vacation somewhere that doesn’t remind me of where I live, which is what brought me to Tartarus in the first place.”

Ooops. Brought up that sticky issue of where I’m from again. Damn inquisitive humans. Maybe Gehenna will deflect it. He noticed Speaker walking with Kira over towards Nathicana and Andreus, and lightly extended his senses to pay attention to both conversations at once.

This could be entertaining. But his eyes stayed focused on what he was physically involved in.

Mas had to give the man another look just to satisfy himself that he hadn’t really seen what he had seen. After all, it’s not as if he could have guessed his thoughts, or read his mind. Coincidence. Definitely coincidence. Though his gaze drifted back now and then with a slightly curious expression all the same, not recognizing the man from any other he was unfamiliar with here.

“Indeed, I’m sure it was, your Highness – if only I could remember it,” Nathi replied, her smile showing just a hint of mischief. “There is something about the ‘magic’ of that night so to speak, that rather prevents recall. Though the morning after was quite memorable …”

Nathicana offers Irene a respectful enough nod and a genuine enough smile. “No more an honor than it is for us to make your acquaintance, your Highness,” she said smoothly, showing no hint of sarcasm in either tone or delivery.

She looks as though she’s made a hobby of sucking lemons, the old battleaxe. Perhaps if she’d ever had a proper orgasm ... Indeed. A title does not a Lady make, and Nathi was well aware of her own personal shortcomings in that department. Ladies, after all, did not engage in hand to hand combat for fun and exercise. Nor did they take advantage of a quiet unlocked room at a diplomatic event for …

Further brief self-analysis was cut short by the arrival of a dear friend.

“Ah, Speaker! Molti alleato fidato! I cannot tell you how good it is to see you,” Nathicana said warmly, turning to the ‘tosh with one of her more radiant smiles – albeit close-lipped, out of respect and now, habit – clearly very pleased to see him there.

“Speaker, if I may present Her Imperial Highness Princess Christiana of Excalbia their Highnesses Princess Irene, and Prince Andreus of Pantocratoria, Her Grace the Grand Duchess Morgan, and Her Ladyship Marian, the Countess of Armenstar.” Each one was given a brief nod and a graceful gesture of her hand – never pointing – to indicate whom she was referring to.

“It is my sincere honor, your Highnesses, your Grace, honored Lady, to present His Holiness Major General Speaker-Rrit of the Scolopendran Civilian Corps Engineers, Consort of H'zta, Commander-in-chief of the Scolopendran Military Services, elected Supreme Emperor of the Federated Segments of Scolopendra, Founder of the Second Kzinti Patriarchy, Lord of House Riskadh, Patriarch of the Race of Heroes.” Emphasis was subtly placed where appropriate, and delivered with a note of pride.

Yes, she was laying on thick, and yes, she had no doubt she would hear about it later – likely accompanied by a good-natured chuckle.

“And the lovely Lady would be?” she asked, nodding politely to Kira.

Ears flapping happily at the Dread Lady's friendly salutation, he has the good grace not to raise a furred brow as she launches into the formal introduction. Following along--as if the old diplomat had a choice--the 'tosh stands just a touch more at attention while Nathi rattles off a string of titles that would be considered unforgivably pompous back in the populist Segments... but, it is still a Heroic honoring of his Heroic deeds, and thus an honor.

Even if his pink batwing ears do redden slightly. There will be words about this, Nathicana of House D'Aquisto... oh yes...

After bowing to each person shortly as they are introduced, Speaker turns a little on the 'heels' of his boots (more like the balls of his feet, given how the kzin leg is arranged) to properly introduce the Weyrian. "Your Highnesses, your Grace, honorable Lady, this is the honored Her Highness Kira li'Starhavven, High King of the First Distributed Kingdom of Weyr." He works off of memory from the dossier, and makes something up for the form of address. She did not look to mind much about titles or formality previously. "I am honored to meet you all."

De Vere chuckled a little, pleasantly surprised, and looked around the room for anyone who resembled a waiter.

"I suppose", Irene Daatman said with a smile at the remarks of whom she thought was Lord Daniels. "Iuthia and Pactalia both have a lot in common with Knootoss, sharing culture, values, economy, and perhaps politics too. I have a harder time imagining the opposite of Tartarus though", she said with an inquisitive smile. She tilted her head slightly as she looked at Daniels.

Andreus winced slightly as Christiana used the expression "His Despotic Highness" - a title which sounded positively awful and which was most assuredly not in the list of Pantocratorian honourifics. He didn't point out the mistake however - after all, she was praising his art. Or damning it with false praise. Either way, he was please enough.

"Indeed, His Highness' works have been performed at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator on several occassions. I must say that some of them were most competent. Others less so but I suppose that is inevitable." Irene replied.

"Thank you, mesdemoiselles, most kind." Andreus said with a faint smirk aimed at Christiana as he decided to take Irene's remarks as complimentary.

When Speaker-Rrit approached and Nathicana had finished introducing him, Irene regarded the Speaker disdainfully but nodded politely. Andreus' polite nod was accompanied by no such disdain. When Kira was introduced, Irene arched her brow at the title "High King" being employed to describe her, while Andreus took Kira's hand and kissed it with a bow and flourish.

"Charmed to meet Your Highness." Andreus said.

"Getting back to your question, Highness," Irene said, turning back to Christiana. "I am looking forward to tomorrow, and I know that Her Highness, my niece, is as well. I was just brushing her hair and settling her nerves prior to coming here. She is most lucky to be marrying Prince Brendan, certainly. His Highness seems a fine young man and is an accomplished officer."

"I think he's lucky to be marrying Theodora." Andreus remarked, not liking the implication that the good fortune was all one way. "And I got the impression from the meeting Her Majesty and I had with him earlier today that he feels the same way."

"Of course, it isn't just my nieces who have been getting married, mademoiselle," Irene observed to Christiana, matching Christiana's intense gaze with one of her own. "My nephew did of course recently marry the Empress of Lavenrunz. An impressive young woman herself... younger than both my married and soon-to-be-married nieces, in fact."

Andreus struggled to hide his frustration with his aunt, whom he knew from long experience to be someone who enjoyed sniping at others through apparently harmless observations like that one.

"I saw Anna earlier with your nephew, mademoiselle," Andreus said to Christiana. He decided to give Irene a dose of her own medicine and glanced back to her. "Before long I shall be an uncle and you shall be a great aunt, mademoiselle."

"Indeed I shall. Twice over. How is Madame de Montmanuel anyway?" Irene replied, her eyes twinkling in delight. "Her Majesty has been very good about all that..."

"Indeed she has." Andreus said quickly, returning his attentions to Nathicana, Kira and Speaker-Rrit. "I take it, Speaker, Majesty, that the two of you are old friends?"

Any disdain emanating from Irene, intentional or no, meets with no response from the kzintosh. The disapproval, ever so slight or severe, from 'nobility' gained by accident of birth is beneath the notice of both a Hero and a Scolopendran; the first from an subcultural belief in meritocracy so ingrained as to actually be the tenet of a religion, the second from not only a greater cultural meritocratic leaning but also a populist disbelief of the concept of genteel society. The age of [war]lords using inhereted military and financial power to dominate the proletariat of the fiefdoms died with feudalism a long, long time ago in the 'Pendran mind.

He listens to the conversation; it isn't particularly interesting in the terms of its open content, but the relationships illustrated in the subtle undertones give this old diplomat a few bones to chew on thoughtfully. All 'noble,' a few more entranced with their own self-worth than others, but nothing so dishonoring to yet require any sort of petty rebuke. Still, one can at least think silently to oneself. So your kin are all getting married. I am sure it was all because of you.

Speaker chuckles inwardly at the prince, a rank-conscious man, utterly ignoring any of Speaker's actual ranks or forms of address and instead going for the name. The profession-half of the half-name, even. A quick mental calculation later, he replies with a thin smile (the only kind a kzin can have) and a genuinely friendly--if gravelly--voice.. "Quite, Andreus. We have been friends for longer than we have had some of our perhaps more esoteric titles."

No, not very subtle at all. But simple, to the point, and done without any actual rebuke.

"The Hunt goes well, ma'am," he replies with a short bow, deciding introductions are obviously unneccessary. "I have always enjoyed seeing new sights and meeting new people. Do you know King Owain? I am afraid I do not know him as well as I ought."

"Sorry, no, Supreme Emperor" Kira shakes her head, hoping she used the proper honorific and wishing she did know something useful about the new Daanan regent. She adds to her long list of things to do, knowing she'll forget all about it by the end of the day. "I only just met him for the first time."

It doesn't seem to matter. She can't really object to Speaker's offer. Nothing better to do, anyway. "Sure!" she nods, her long ears perking up for a brief moment.

Any worries about how to make an introduction to Nathicana get tossed out the window thanks to Speaker, much to Kira's quiet relief, only to be replaced by the nagging question of how to explain her job name to Irene, who seems to have taken up issue with it.

"An honor," Kira bows, ears twitching nervously, not entirely sure how to respond to Andreus' greeting, forgetting about the issue of titles for the moment. She doesn't try to ask that people use her first, and functionally her only name. No one will do it anyway, if Owain and the page were any guide. Instead, Kira just listens to the conversation, even if Weyreans have absolutely no concept of marriage as it pertains to the conversation.

Owain stood again as Lady Destra was led into the room. "Thank you for coming, Your Ladyship. I am sorry that you had to wait. I hope you have been enjoying yourself thus far."

Destra nodded and smiled back towards Owain. "I'm having a marvelous time so far. I must thank you for the invitation in the first place. I've had a great time getting to know others that I hadn't, before this glorious event."

"Patience is virtue. I have absolutely no problem with waiting. It's given me more time to discuss a variety of things with the others guests, as well as witness some... interesting things." as she gave a brief chuckle. "I must say though, I'm very excited for the events coming ahead of us."

Owain smiled slightly at her reference to the other guests. "I must say that I'm rather pleased with the attendance. I hope you got the chance to meet Empress Gehenna and perhaps the Excalbian and Pantocratorian Emperors as well?" He gestured for her to sit, doing so himself only when and if the lady had.
...
Morgan and Marian both made courtesy to Kira and Speaker as they approached, neither giving any sign of noticing the slight mistake Nathicana made in giving their titles. "It is an honor to meet Your Majesties." Morgan said with a polite smile. "I have actually been studying Scolopendra recently." She didn't elaborate on her own, allowing Speaker the freedom to inquire or not to inquire, as he saw fit.

"It's a pleasure to meet Your Majesties." Marian said politely. She blushed slightly at Princess Christiana's continued compliments. "Surely you flatter me, Your Highness. Although perhaps we might discuss further plans later this evening. A lot of work has been done to improve the quality of life in Mortville (although there is much work left even there) but it increasingly seems to me that the most important thing is to give the people of Mortville more control over their own lives. Now that Dr. Drapeur's government has repealed that dreadful citizenship law, I don't see why we couldn't establish agencies to help people with naturalization."
...
De Vere could see various people carrying trays of fancy snacks and drinks around but no one with any ice cream.
...
Karamanlis took a long sip of her drink as she carefully surveyed the crowd, almost impatiently. She wasn't sure what to make of the crowd but she was increasingly noting something, something she couldn't quite put her finger on but which trouvled her deeply. Foreign policy, more than anything else she dealt with, was an area where actually putting the policies she'd campaigned on, the promises she'd made to the voters, into place was much harder than she'd thought back when she was just an MP, outside the Cabinet.

Christiana shook her head slightly as Marian spoke. “No flattery, your Excellency; simply recognition of your accomplishments. And your character.” The princess smiled and nodded. “You are – of course – correct; much has been done, but much remains. Hopefully will find the time to meet and discuss our next steps in Mortville.”

Christiana turned and listened to Nathicana, giving her a wry smile, one that spoke of many forgotten evenings and interesting mornings. “Well, your Majesty, it does indeed sound like a fabulous party. Some of my best parties have been the ones I do not fully recall.” She turned to Andreus. “Including an evening in the Despot’s Palace.”

Christiana looked back to Irene and fixed her gaze on the older woman’s eyes. They were harsh, cold eyes. Yet, Christiana sensed pain in them. Hmmm, maybe there is more to the old witch than I thought. Though her attempts to goad me are rather transparent.

“That is good,” she said, smiling pleasantly. “Marriage is, I believe, best left to the young and idealistic. At our age there are other more intricate games to play. And pleasures to be had. Would you not agree, your Highness?”

The princess turned to Andreus and let out a brief, genuine laugh. “And I, for one, am looking forward to being a great aunt. Anna is such a delightful girl; I am sure she and Joseph will make fine parents.”

After Nathicana greeted Irene, Christiana turned back to Dread Lady and let her smile warm. Nathicana seemed to her to a very likeable sort. Certainly she seemed to see through the pomp and arrogance of nobles like Andreus and Irene.

As Nathicana introduced the imposing, faintly feline-looking kzin, Christiana turned towards him and bowed slightly. “It is honour to meet you, your Holiness. Or do you prefer Supreme Emperor? I am afraid I am, unfortunately, rather unfamiliar with your people.”

As Christiana studied Speaker-Rrit she felt a genuine thrill. She had never met anyone quite so… alien. She made a mental note of the unusual use of the title High King as he introduced the Weyrian. Christiana bowed again. “Your Highness,” she said, “it is a pleasure.”

Ah, that’s right – I seem to remember hearing Weyr had an interesting system that way. Then again, I've heard many things in Weyr are ... interesting. I wonder. Does the poor lady seems to be slightly uncomfortable, or am I just imagining things?

“Very pleased to make your acquaintance,” Nathi says with a smile and respectably short bow of equals to Kira, hoping that in some way might put her at ease.

Irene’s demeanor still irritated her, especially in reference to two of her good friends, one whom she held in highest regard. Still, it wouldn’t be appropriate to let it show in a venue such as this, and so she maintained the pleasant, relaxed smile. Mas swore he could detect a familiar glimmer in those blue eyes, all the same – which he thought all for the good.

“I hope the couples will be happy,” she replies simply. “Heaven knows there’s not near enough of that in the world. True happiness is a rare thing, after all. Something to be treasured.” As for Irene’s comment on Aurora …

“True, she is rather young – and has done a finer job of managing both her private and political troubles than many thrice her age. A truly admirable woman, and one whom I believe has more than proved her ability to make her own choices. It pleases me greatly that she and Your Highness seem to have been able to find some that happiness I mentioned,” she continues, turning slightly to Andreus and smiling warmly. Sacrifices could be made for the honor of a friend, after all. “Congratulations on the impending arrivals – little ones are always such a blessing to families.”

She listened to Speaker’s reply, and smiled up at him, brows wriggling slightly. Esoteric indeed. And in her case, taken only for the sake of ‘little ones’ she’d at one point never thought to have, and now had changed her entire rule in preparation for. Life never ceased to amaze.

Marian’s comments caused one brow to rise just a bit. After all, though she had friends and was allied with those who espoused a more ‘democratic’ or ‘free’ form of rule, she still did not agree with it – not for the Dominion at least. No two nations were the same, or could be expected to have the same system of rule and expect it to work the same way, after all. Still, an improvement in quality of life was something she was in favor of. As it seemed more an internal matter, she took note for later reference, and refrained from comment.

Christiana, she was still trying to gauge properly, though she returned the lady’s comment on forgotten evenings with a sly wink. She seemed to be a happy person, and one with a sense of humor – always good things. What made Nathicana curious was her overall demeanor, and wondering just how sharp the woman was underneath it all. A common enough tactic, using lightheartedness and playful banter to conceal one’s cunning, as was lavishing even those one disliked with compliments or simply being polite in the face of unpleasantness. Misdirection, savvy, and knowing how to laugh. These were things she could definitely respect, and only time would tell.

Polite, not afraid to admit she enjoys having a bit of fun, and not put off in the least by Fuzzy. I think I may just like her, she thought with a silent chuckle, which admittedly increased at having clouded things a bit with all those titles as Christiana addressed Speeks. Oh yes. I am definitely going to hear about this.

The kzintosh allows himself a slight chuckle, ears winking once again. "'Holiness' is an extrapolation into your culture based on my relative position in my religion." He glances at Nathi with a slight curl in one tip of his mouth before returning his attention to Christiana. "It was merely hypothetical in this setting. Until now. You can use it or Supreme Emperor if you like, but padishah"--the Arabic borrowed from the Persians grates together more with stronger consonants than it would from a human palate--"is more common in a setting like this. Arabic is more concise than English in this case."

He decides to neatly sidestep the differences in culture concerning "sir" and "ma'am" by not even bringing it up, and quietly appreciates the opportunity to educate for everyone's benefit. "I am honored to have been invited here on behalf of my people. We do not often make it to events such as these." Being out of the aristocratic scene and all, as Razak would say.

Gorrm calmly looks about the room with a sense of detached observation. He continues skirting the edge of the crowds of assembled nobility, dignitaries and diplomats until he takes position near a column.

His guard always in eye's view of him, he turns to the one attached to him directly. "I'm not in much mood for idle chatter and word-bandying. See if a meal can be prepared in my room; I might retire for the night." The guard salutes, and signals the rest of the guard detail in a subsonic frequency.

Gorrm continues looking about while things are set in motion, when he notices the K'zin standing head over the crowd. Hmmmm...............

"I have yet to meet with the Empress and the Excalbian Emperors; however, I have had a brief run-in with the Pantocratorian Emperor. The time that was spent in conversation with him was nothing short of.. interesting." as she gave a bright smile. "I hope to meet the rest of the people you have mentioned by the end of the night, as well as a few new guests. I must thank you though, for having this celebration in the first place. It has helped me in paving the way of Euroslavia's diplomatic future by getting to know many other nations, especially The Resurgent Dream. Truly an experience I could not pass up." said Destra.

Owain smiled inscrutably. "I am glad that you've found it so useful and the actual celebrations not even begun yet. I am honored that you've come, as, I'm sure, is the Marissa."

"I'm truly excited to see this entire event to the end. It's one great way to examine ones' culture, by attending important events such as this, and learning new things about exactly what goes on, as well as the similarities and differences between your culture and Euroslavia's culture."

Owain laughed slightly as he leaned forward in his chair. "Yours words possess much truth. It is actually one of our customs for young men and women who can afford to do so to travel abroad for a year or so between completing their education and taking up adult responsibilities in society. It is said to broaden the mind and culture the habits. It is actually during such a trip that I met my betrothed."

Destra smiled again at what was just spoken. "Our society is encouraged to travel abroad as much as possible, seeing as overall, Euroslavian culture is a mixture of different cultures all-together. We encourage our people to enlighten themselves with other cultures, while they learn that different nations contrast their homeland greatly. Like you said, it's a great way to broaden the mind, and also, it seems to keep their minds more open to new things."

He nodded to her. "The world is full of new things in these latter days, some for the better, some less so. Still, in both cases, we must live in this world as it actually is."

"I would much rather my people experience good and bad things alike, rather than not experiencing anything at all. It builds your character and gives you experience."

Owain nodded once more. "Have you travelled much yourself, Your Ladyship?"

"The sad thing is, as I encourage my people to travel, I myself haven't had any time to take to travel myself. If I could get the free time, I would love to go to many different areas, but my schedule always seems to be packed up." as her frustration with this got out quite easily."

"You care more for your duties than for your rights. That is fitting in a lady of your rank." Owain complimented her. "Still, I am glad you found the time to come this weekend."

"As am I. It's great every now and then to get away from all of your duties, especially for such an event as this. The appointments that were scheduled for the last day, as well as the next two weren't too happy about being cancelled, but this event takes precedent over things that could easily be taken care of in a matter of minutes, and a few extra phone calls. Absolutely nothing to worry about. This is a once and a lifetime chance, to take part in a coronation and three weddings. I myself hope to get married one of these days, because it can get quite lonely in my Palace."

"You do not have others capable of taking these appointments in your place?" Owain asked in slight surprise.

"Oh yes, I should have been more specific. The appointments scheduled with myself had been cancelled; however they have been rescheduled with a few phone calls, as well as sending a few of my other trusted colleagues. They were disappointed in not being able to discuss certain matters with me, but they must understand the busy life of a leader."

Owain moved rather directly back to the last matter she had discussed. "Perhaps Your Ladyship might clear another day sometime in the near future and host a ball for potential suitors."

"That is a rather good idea. It hadn't even occured to me that such an event could be planned. Perhaps I shall."

"I am sure a number of young nobleman of my court would be interested in attending." he said, grinning slightly now.

Destra smiled right back, "You will be the first to know of such an event. I very much appreciate your kind words in this whole situation. I would also like for you to attend such an event, to give the get-together more of a purpose than just finding a suitor. I would quite enjoy getting to know more about your nations' culture, as it seems we both have an interest in doing so, as well as the similarities of promoting foreign travel, and learning new and different cultures."

"I shall then. You have visited my court and it would be only fitting to repay the honor." After that, he rose slowly. "It has certainly been pleasant meeting you, my lady. I do hope that we can speak at greater length at some point."

Destra rose up as well. "The pleasure is all mine. I am looking forward to the next time we meet."

He showed her out at that. "Rest well."

Owain walked back to his desk with a smile bordering on the paternal. Lady Destra had struck him as oddly youthful, innocent. Of course, many of the monarchs present that day (including himself) were around her age, younger in the case of Aurora of Lavenrunz whose husband he struggled not to think of as a pedophile, but they all seemed old for their ages. Not so Destra and he sincerely wished that she was able to preserve her innocence longer than others. Of course, it might just be a mistaken impression.

Taking the time before his next and last guest was summoned, the high king reflected upon some of the meetings he'd had that day. He was slightly bothered by his meetings with Gorm of Sakkra and Gehenna of Tartarus. He had the impression that both had either assumed him to be an absolutist monarch after the Tartaran model or had been trying to pressure him to assume such a role and do away with the democratic institutions of his country and he couldn't help being offended slightly. Of course, he didn't think for a moment that it was too serious a problem or even any threat to good relations. It was natural for people to believe in their own forms of government. He certainly had no intention of masking his own preference for constitutional, representative forms of monarchy. However, among nations who respected one another's sovereignty, such preferences were no real threat and, at worst, the source of occasional tensions. Still...perhaps he had merely misunderstood their intended meaning.

The meeting with Speaker-Rrit bothered him more. He was worried he had somehow offended the Supreme Emperor. The man, to use the term in its broader meaning of male sentient, had raised no real problems and had managed to suppress any serious sign of distress. Still, underneath the diplomatic facade, he had sensed a slight change in attitude after the discussion of immigration and was not quite sure he understood why. Even though it had been half-discussed, the interpretation in Speaker's head had never really entered Owain's.

And then there was Nathicana. In and of herself, she hadn't stood out to him. She was the sovereign of a friendly country with vastly different, but still decent, institutions. What made him wonder was that High Queen Agwene was known to have thought so favorably of her. He couldn't quitre figure why, not after studying the woman and not after meeting her either. While he knew that his country maintained friendly relations and even alliances with a number of autocratic but decent powers and furthermore planned to keep his court on cordial terms with all the courts of the world, he still could not figure why Agwene, who had virtually created Danaan democracy during her reign and whose name was almost synonymous with democracy, would have developed such an attachment to the most prominent leader of the NDA. He idly though that he might get his answer with further aquaintance and prepared for the next meeting, the Knootians.
...
A page approached the Knootians at around this time. "I beg your pardon, Your Excellency, but the High King wishes to see your party." he said to Daatman.
...
Neither Marian nor Morgan noticed Nathicana's brow raise, or, if they did they did not show it. Marian also managed to maintain a politely friendly expression as Nathicana praised Aurora, though that was more for Andreus's sake than Nathicana's. She knew that most visitors to Lavenrunz found it charming. Being obliged to spend nearly half her time there, Marian was deeply disturbed by things she saw right below the surface. She did, however, smile ever so slightly at Christiana's words. "Oh, you are young yet, Your Highness. I am, however, free this evening, if you'd like to talk."

Gehenna smiled at Daatman, Irene and then Tim, her eyes flicking between the three as she spoke. “I am pleased that we have managed to all find ourselves here at such a pleasant event. I hope that during the celebrations of both today and tomorrow that we have the chance to meet and talk more.”

She paused as Balion spoke, her eyes falling upon him. She smiled at his reference to Tartarus as different to his own home, a place that she had heard small things about, but probably knew little more than the Knootians did. “Tartarus is not overly different from other nations, we may have a few traditions and rules that others may not have. But if the world was full of the same kind of people and places, one would not need to travel, and that would be a waste.”

Just then the page for High King Owain approached Daatman, which caused the party to cease talking. They remained silent until Daatman answered the page’s request.

How dare a subhuman refer to the Despot of New Constantinople by his first name? Irene glowered to herself, unaware that Andreus had done exactly the same thing to Speaker-Rrit.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Andreus smiled and nodded in reply to Nathicana's remark about he and Aurora's marriage, although the smile faded somewhat when she went on to discuss his impending child by Madame de Montmanuel. He smiled in response to Christiana's remarks to the effect that Anna and Joseph would make fine parents.

"No, I would not, mademoiselle." Irene replied to Christiana. "Games, be they ever so intricate, are something best left to younger people than us. People our age should strive towards higher goals."

Irene cast her eyes over to Marian as she thoughtlessly prattled on about her successor as Pantocratorian Imperial Chancellor and his government's policies and their impact on Mortville. She snapped at the former sidhe when she had finished talking to Christiana.

"Dr Drapeur's government is a disaster for Pantocratoria and its way of life, mademoiselle, not that I expect someone of your proclivities to understand that." Irene barked. "Those citizenship laws were put in place by men and women far wiser than that... self-important son of a metal worker with a PhD and delusions of grandeur. I would like to know how your pet project is in any way assisted by the greviously damaging and ill-advised policies of the Socialist Government, mademoiselle. How will the changes in the citizenship laws brought about by the callous indifference shown by Dr Drapeur to Pantocratoria's unique cultural identity assist you and your project in any way?"

"Erm... I think..." Andreus started, eager to get away from the ensuing discussion as he glanced about the room for another conversation to join. His eyes passed over Minerva Karamanlis. "I think I had best take my leave of Your Majesties, padishah, Your Highnesses, mesdemoiselles... I must take this opportunity to convey the compliments of my wife and father both to the Danaan Prime Minister. I beg your leave."

"Under all the vindictive, you're asking how a change in the laws making it legal for people belonging to other religious communities, such as most of the residents of Mortville are, makes it easier to undertake a project of helping people in Mortville to obtain citizenship? The need to ask a question answered so tautologically, Your Highness, seems to indicate the wisdom of the people who put such policies in place." Marian responded calmly.

"Well..." Morgan said. "I would not worry overmuch about Dr. Drapeur, Your Highness. I believe that the right stands a good chance in the next elections. Your party is much to be congratulated on its new and more effective tone and leadership strategy. I consider it quite possible that your noble brother can prevail against Drapeur at the polls."

"Ask yourself, mademoiselle," Irene snapped first to Marian. "Why non-Catholics would possibly want to become citizens of a Catholic country? And what benefits do you think citizenship includes which are so significant to people so obviously intent on living outside Pantocratorian society? What is the point in giving these people citizenship when they refuse to assimilate to Pantocratorian culture?"

She regarded Morgan with a cold stare.

"Monsieur is a magnificent campaigner." Irene told her. "He is born to rule and Pantocratorians recognise that and like it in their leaders. I have no doubt that he will lead the United Christian Front to victory over Drapeur and his irresponsible, radical left wing government. Drapeur doesn't stand a chance. A shaved monkey in a suit could beat him..."

She glanced at Marian again meaningfully.

"...and perhaps before too many more of Dr Drapeur's reforms are through, a shaved monkey in a suit could very well be a member of parliament." she concluded.

Lady Destra walked back into the room where everyone was still present, discussing each and every possible subject. Perhaps this time, time would be on her side, and she would be able to meet Nathicana, or perhaps she may have gone to bed. After all, the time was going by quickly, and tomorrow is going to be an important day. Getting enough rest for it was very much important.

She looked around the room, and spotted Nathicana around those who were conversating before Destra left to meet with Owain. Acting in a similar manner that she noticed Nathicana act just before she was called away, she slowly walked up towards the small group of people, but stayed a polite distance as to not interrupt.

Morgan smiled warmly at Andreus. "Do take care, Your Highness."

"I am merely helping the people under my charge take advantage of existing law, Your Highness. What that law might be is not mine to decide one way or the other." Marian said, trying to sooth the woman without lying.

Morgan inclined her head. "If nothing else, the next election should prove rather interesting. A great deal has happened since the last one for both good and ill." She smiled at both Irene and Marian before noticing Destra and making courtesy.
...
Karamanlis noticed Andreus coming over and made courtesy. "Good evening, Your Highness."

Speaker-Rrit bows politely to Andreus as the man leaves, tilting his head just so to wink knowingly. "Have a pleasant evening, Your Highness." The scent of Irene's outrage is... mildly amusing, at best, and a non-entity at worst. He had a point to make, the point got made, and none of the primary parties involved are the worse for it. Returning to his normal full height, he looks over to Irene with that subtle, unblinking, look common to felinids that would almost seem a challenge if it didn't look so relaxed. "And why would Catholics want to be citizens of a nation with an Islamic plurality and central culture, Your Highness?"

He is tempted for a moment to say "ma'am," but unlike "Your Highness," the phrase actually carries with it a connotation of respect in the Segments. For now, pandering to outdated custom rather than dealing in sincerity would do. "There is a saying among my people: adapt and thrive. In a homogenous society, the variables for adaptation are... limited; simply because a group wishes to maintain a portion of their culture should not make them pariahs from the rest of society. It is our stance that nations are not truly successful when they assimilate their fringes into the same bland paste. They are successful when they use the diversity of thought within their borders to increase their options and adapt to changes internal and external."

He stifles an ironic chuckle at the repeated slinging about of 'monkey,' seeing how that particular epithet could apply to practically everyone here short of himself and the person it's tacitly being applied to. Still, leave it to an idealist to enter the breach. "The core principle is that people are people. If a set of regulations concerning citizenship operate on anything other than merit and the realization of that simple fact then they are, eventually, flawed. After all, would Your Highness not agree that history shows that the definition of what is man and what is monkey (or at least not fully man) has changed now and again over the past few thousand years?"

However much Nathicana thought she might possibly like Christiana, she was very much certain she did not care for Irene. And the more she saw of the woman, the more sure she became. What was curious was Andreus’ reaction as she spoke of children – was there a problem? Had there been words between he and Aurora? She wasn’t aware of any other situation that would cause distress. Granted, she didn’t care for his attitudes thus far, and did happen to think Aurora could have done better, but it hadn’t been her intent to insult.

What on earth is wrong with congratulating them on being an aunt and uncle? Is this some unspoken Pantocratorian oddity we’ve not heard of? Strange … And did I just catch that right? Higher goals? What, like lowering yourself to being insulting to family in front of strangers? To playing the miserable old spinster seemingly just to spite people and make them uncomfortable? Oh yes, my lady. High goals indeed. May you manage to not scrape your nose on the chandeliers whilst stalking about the room. Then again, the image of her getting one of those crystals lodged up there … muahaha.

“I’ve always thought there was a time for business, pleasure, and ‘higher pursuits. If one is not well-rounded as a person, one limits ones growth. Stagnancy, after all, can be deadly – perhaps in some cultures more than others,” is all she offered in response, her chin tilting up ever so slightly in that imperious way those familiar with her would recognize all too well.

Her chin tilted just a bit higher, one brow raising in a sure tell of ensuing irritation as Irene geared up in her rant. And -she- would lecture others on behaviour? Time and place, you old harpy. Time and place. This is neither. Any response was interrupted by Andreus’ tactical retreat, to which she blinks, and manages a brief nod and murmured farewell.

What had her nearly floored was Irene’s continued attacks after he left. This was the sort of discussion saved for private arguments, not public displays, according to Dominion schools of thought on decorum and proper etiquette. Subtlety obviously was not one of Irene’s strong points – that was for certain. Speaker on the other hand, showed his usual tact in the face of rudeness, and she listens politely before offering her own observations.

“Well, I’d warrant a shaved monkey couldn’t possibly do worse at representing their nation than others I could mention,” Nathicana quips lightly, with a meaningful glance at Irene, her mildly imperious stance softened by a smile. “Still, I suppose problems such as this are part of the problems inherent in ‘democratic’ societies. Some, such as the honorable Scolopendrans here, seem to manage quite well. Others …” Here she shrugs slightly with a vague gesture of her hand. “Perhaps not so much. At least I suppose, with these sorts of goings on, it’s never boring, no?” The smile takes a mischievous turn at that last, and she offers a quick wink to Marian and Morgan, hoping to convey that while she may not agree with that particular form of government, she meant no ill will towards them on account.

Probably going to hear about that little jab as well. Honestly. Monkies? If anyone looks ready to start screaming and flinging shit, it’s that Pantocratorian shrew. Sweet Jesu, no wonder Andreus grew up the way he did, surrounded by this sort of thing.

Mas did his level best to maintain a proper demeanor, though inside he was laughing at Irene’s … tantrum. Both in doing his job, and in trying to keep that relatively straight face, he continued monitoring the room, whispering very softly without leaning in to draw attention when he catches sight of Destra standing quietly off to the side.

Nathi of course picks it up, as intended, thanks to Shodey’s work, and turns to see where the Lady is waiting. “My apologies, Ladies and Padishah, but I’ve an appointment long in the waiting that needs attending to. Speaker, I believe you’ve already made Lady Destra's acquaintance, though perhaps Kira has not? I’d love to have you join us when you have a moment, should you care to.”

“Christiana, it has been a pleasure – I hope this isn’t the last we see of you. Morgan, Marian, very much a pleasure as well. My best wishes on the upcoming elections, and the continued recovery of your fine nation. Should there be a need, do not hesitate to ask.” Her smile is warm and genuine as she speaks, and her previous soon-to-be-haughty demeanor is gone. At least so long as she is addressing the others.

“Irene,” she says more cooly, not even bothering to face her straight on when addressing, as she had the others. “I hope that you will enjoy sharing in the joys of family, and the bambinos soon to join it. Forsan miseros meliora sequentur, or so they say. Buona serra.”

And with that she makes her way over to Lady Destra, wondering idly what messages would be interpreted by the individuals, how many of them would be right, how many wrong. One couldn’t always be dead on with all the varied social nuances. Still, she hoped that the ladies at least would not be offended by her use of name, given her intent had been anything but. After all, in her mind, once the proper titles were out of the way, a more personable approach in casual conversation, was always more appropriate, and offered an atmosphere more open to possible friendship.




Trans from Latin: For those in misery perhaps better things will follow. (Virgil)

"Indeed, why would anybody want to be a citizen in a country with an Islamic plurality and central culture?" Irene nodded with a sneer in response to Speaker-Rrit's first remark. "And you are entirely right. People are people, Padishah. And Your Majesty is entirely right, the occasional terrible Bolshevik government is the price one pays for allowing people who don't know any better to vote. And of course, Padishah, I do advocate a citizenship regime based on merit. Under my Government, the inhabitants of such places as mademoiselle's Mortville had to prove over a period of years that they were worthy citizens, thoroughly patriotic Pantocratorians. To admit a ghetto full of people to Imperial Citizenship as the Drapeur Government has made possible and as Mademoiselle d'Armenstar is advocating cheapens everybody's citizenship, and the meaning it holds for those residents besides."

She regarded Nathicana cooly as the Imperatrice departed. She would've bristled at the parting insult and at Nathicana's use of her Christian name instead of a fitting form of address, but she expected little better from a woman whom she regarded as a thoroughly bourgeois empress.

"After all, what use is the title of citizen when it is devoid of all meaning?" Irene asked, turning now to Marian. "These people have now done nothing to earn... to merit, to use the Padishah's word... being accorded the status of citizen. When I was Chancellor, my dear girl, becoming a citizen meant that one had established oneself in the community. That the wider community held one in high esteem and had accepted one as a fellow Pantocratorian. That in the eyes of everyone of society's pillars, one was deserving, nae, entitled to citizenship. So what do you think it will accomplish to have these people in Mortville accorded citizenship?"

After seeing Nathi off with a polite bow and weathering Irene's hardly polite barrage no worse for the wear, Speaker chuckles softly, lips curling up to show a bit of sharp, white teeth, voice remaining as cordial as ever. Coolness is the mark of a Hero. "Probably for the willingness to move beyond differences, perhaps, or being open to other ways of doing things. While turning the other cheek is not exactly commanded, oddly enough the Muslims in my society are quite capable of doing it."

Torpedo one.

"But of course value is based on rarity; how else would things of otherwise limited utility such as gold be valued at all?"

Torpedo two.

"As history has shown time and again, all power derives eventually from the consent of the governed. As far back as at least classical Novgorod even the power of 'nobility' is limited by what other classes will accept. Once that power becomes irksome or against the wishes of the governed, then new systems are established. If one particular president, representative, or chancellor does not meet the needs of the society, then a new one is found to take their place."

Torpedo three.

"The value of a wider concept of citizenship lies in that those that are governed have say in their governance, which precludes them from having to make their own say. History has its own tales to tell concerning that, Your Highness." He smiles pleasantly. "As times progress and people become more knowledgable about their condition, the need for singular leaders to lead for them becomes less and less. It will never completely disappear, of course, because anarchy does not work in a complex world, but you must admit that the noble systems of old are but mere shadows of themselves even today, Your Highness?

"I have always found it amusing that the assumed strength of the old noble caste in blood--in genetics, in pedigree--eventually became its downfall in more than one place. The curse of the Hapsburgs, as it were. Ironic, no?"

Torpedo four.

Kira stays on the metaphoric sidelines of the conversation, slowly trying to get an understanding of the subject, which shifts rather quickly into the charted territories of democracy and elections. The Distributed Kingdom is so far down the road into anarchy that it risks coming full circle as a psychotic dictatorship, and for Kira the problems with universal suffrage are nothing new, and are just part of the reasoning behind nullification, which is just one of the mechanisms built into Weyr’s government structure to counter the rule of majority and other such things.

"d'Oko... Speaker, Irene, how do you determine who gets a say in government, if I may ask..." Kira says quickly, interjecting into the conversation, long ears twitching once more. "I've heard a lot about it, but what's stopping one group from controlling the vote, or another group from ignoring the government chosen by that group?"

Andreus crossed the floor over to the Danaan Prime Minister, clicked his heels in the Lavenrunzian fashion of his adopted home, and then bowed with his customary flourish.

"Prime Minister," he said. "A pleasure to meet you."

Karamanlis set her drink down with a light, if thoughtful, smile before setting her drink down and making courtesy to the prince. "Your Highness, I do hope you are enjoying our hospitality."

Andreus took Karamanlis' hand gently and kissed it, before standing up straight again with a charming smile on his face.

"I am, very much, although I wonder whether some of the other guests are appreciating everything it has to offer." Andreus replied in a smooth voice, a twinkle in his eye.

Karamanlis nodded slightly. "There are a number of entertainments available outside the palace. I suppose many people prefer simply to mingle."

"A good deal many entertainments inside, as well." Andreus nodded. "Prime Minister, I have the honour of conveying to you the compliments of His Majesty the Emperor of Pantocratoria, and Her Majesty the Empress of Lavenrunz."

She inclined her head. "I trust that both Their Majesties are well."

"They both are." Andreus replied.

"That is good to hear." Karamanlis answered him politely.

"I should also convey my congratulations to you on your election." Andreus smiled. "A little late, I know..."

She laughed slightly. "It is not so late in truth. It has been some time since I was granted a mandate to form a Government but creating a stable coalition Government able to receive the confidence of the Parliament was a more complicated matter."

"Indeed, I imagine it was." Andreus nodded in response. "And are you attending the weddings tomorrow?"

"I am." Karamanlis answered him. "Speaking of marriage, how does yours treat you, Your Highness?"

"Oh. Quite well." Andreus replied. "Thank you for asking."

"Her Majesty is resting, I take it?" she asked, her voice carrying nothing beyond curiosity.

"Yes, she was quite tired from the flight." Andreus replied.

"Have you seen your sister yet?" she inquired.

"Actually, I have not." Andreus admitted, looking a little embarrassed. It didn't matter which sister she meant.

"I imagine she is rather excited." Karamanlis said. "It is a very important day for a young lady."

"I imagine she is... I really wish I had seen her before she retired for the evening... maybe I should pay a visit before she's asleep." Andreus nodded sincerely.

"She might well still be awake." Karamanlis answered.

"She might..." Andreus nodded. It was obvious he wanted to go see.

She smiled with faint amusement and waited for him to actually ask. When it became obvious to him in a few moments that she wasn't going to offer him leave, he decided to ask for it.

"Prime Minister, it has been a pleasure speaking with you, but I'd very much appreciate an opportunity to speak to my sister before tomorrow. Would it be impossibly rude of me..." Andreus began.

"Feel free." she said, inclining her head.

"Thank you, Prime Minister." Andreus said, nodding politely and taking his leave of the chamber altogether.

"I have never heard weaker, more baseless arguments in my life, monsieur." Irene scoffed at Speaker-Rrit's supposed torpedoes. "I don't see how value being based on rarity has anything to do with people at all. I do not value people like mere precious metals. As for that claptrap about power being derived from the governed, people have been spouting that nonsense for centuries and have been proven wrong by the plethora of governments in the world which govern without any consent from or even thought about the governed."

She rolled her eyes and turned away from the Kzintosh, whom she now regarded to be totally off-topic, and turned to Kira to answer her question., before glancing back in Speaker-Rrit's direction for one parting comment.

"And, padishah, I suggest you look up the word irony." she concluded, before turning to Kira. "Well, Your Majesty, in the case of Pantocratoria, the Imperial Government is invested with authority not just from the voters, but from the Emperor himself, and so the people who voted for the minority, the Opposition, have no choice but to abide by the Government elected by the majority. The Emperor is the fount of all authority in Pantocratoria, and by his gracious permission the party, or parties, with a majority in the Parliament become the Government. As for the issue of a group controlling the vote... I suppose that depends on what you define as control. Political parties naturally advertise and encourage voters to vote as they would have them do, as do various other political groups. Ultimately, however, a vote is in the hands of an individual voter."

"I did when I learned this language, actually," he says with a smile and a flick of the ears, "and I see why so much humor is attached to it. The irony--to us, Your Highness--lies in the concept that one bloodline is somehow higher than another, which the difference or choice between the two is absurd... in the existential sense, of course. Then there is the issue that some people realize their titles are absurd... while others do not." Another ear-wink. "In the end, sometimes even the title of 'polite society' can be ironic, no?"

Mission accomplished, he thinks silently to himself as his sparring partner drops any pretense of politeness. Deconstruction can be amusing at times. He also turns to Kira, but for a different reason. "The system of the Federated Segments, ma'am, is based on the claptrap of consent of the governed moderated by the willingness of the individual to show that he is willing to act in the best interest of all via Federal Service. All citizens are enfranchised on at least a territorial level, where they are immediately affected by decisions made nearby and therefore have a self-interest to elect territorial governors and representatives and perhaps Federal legislators. Federal enfranchisement to elect a Supreme Emperor and vote for the Judiciary Unit is derived from service, as said before, because for a time one must put the the interests of the whole ahead of the self. While it does not have the convenience of claiming power from the whim of an autarch, it does seem to work for us."

Hrr. 'No choice but to abide...' Very simplistic worldview, that. "And that is the core quality," he continues with a simple smile, "it works. No more and no less. My title of 'Supreme Emperor' was half-chosen for sounding impressive and half-chosen for sounding too impressive. If we are going to make an absurd choice about what we put in front of our names, at least we will admit the absurdity with a sly wink." He does so. "When my policies become considered less beneficial than another's by a majority of those Federally enfranchised, then I will be replaced and my successor will take the title summed up as Padishah when translated to cultures that do not have quite the same nuances."

Another content smile. "And this is why we prefer simple honorifics like 'sir,' and 'ma'am,' ma'am."

"Then I suppose we shall not have him wait", Daatman replied affirmatively as he turned to face the page, adding with a pleasant grin and an inclined nod to Gehenna, "That is to say if present company will excuse us." The Knootian made a short hand gesture to his wife, who nodded in turn and said her own kind goodbyes to both ‘Lord Daniels’ and the Tartaran empress, followed by Tim de Boer who did the same.

"It was very interesting to meet you, Lord Daniels," Daatman added, "and an honour to meet your Imperial Highness as well. I do hope that we can continue this conversation some other time during these celebrations."

All things said and done, the Knootians followed the page to meet with High King Owain. As they made their way through the crowd, Tim de Boer stepped up to walk besides the young fellow.

"Does the High King meet with all the guests in turn?", he asked curiously.

Nathicana: “I hope the couples will be happy,” she replies simply. “Heaven knows there’s not near enough of that in the world. True happiness is a rare thing, after all. Something to be treasured.”

Christiana's mouth continued to smile, yet her eyes seemed distant and sad. "Indeed, your Majesty," she murmured, "happiness is all too rare."

Speaker-Rit: "'Holiness' is an extrapolation into your culture based on my relative position in my religion. It was merely hypothetical in this setting. Until now. You can use it or Supreme Emperor if you like, but padishah is more common in a setting like this. Arabic is more concise than English in this case."

Christiana nodded again to the kzintosh. "Interesting," she said, her smile warming again. "So, Padishah, is Arabic the preferred language of your nation?"

Marian: "Oh, you are young yet, Your Highness. I am, however, free this evening, if you'd like to talk."

The princess inclined her head towards Marian. "Your flattery is appreciated, your Excellency," Christiana's eyes twinkled a bit, "but I am quite content with my age – old enough to know better, yet old enough not to care, as it were." Christiana gave a sly wink. "And I would like to discuss Mortville with you. Shall we meet in an hour or so over coffee? My ward is staying with my nephew this evening, so we could meet in my suite, if you would not object."

Irene: "No, I would not, mademoiselle." Irene replied to Christiana. "Games, be they ever so intricate, are something best left to younger people than us. People our age should strive towards higher goals."

Christiana's smile grew hard and cold as she turned to Irene. "Higher goals? The highest goals I know, your Highness, are championing the spiritual values of love, compassion, truth and justice. However, to bring them to life in the world one must often resort to politics and politics is, most certainly, life's most intricate – and dangerous – game; it is certainly most often pursued by the rules of the playground, rather than those of the spirit." Christiana looked over the gathering. "Politics most assuredly is a game, your Highness, though I do agree that the goals of the game ought to be noble."

Christiana stood in silence for awhile listening to the growing debate between Irene and Marian. Certainly it seemed that Marian had no need of Christiana's aid to hold her own against the old crone's verbal jabs. She chuckled in spite of herself at Irene's reference to shaved monkeys in suits. "In my experience," she said laughing, "most politicians could be described as shaved monkeys in suits."

She turned in interest when Speaker-Rit began to speak. The princess nodded as he spoke of merit and the evolving definition of what it means to be 'human.' It was not long ago, she reflected, that the Excalbian understanding of 'human' was limited to its strict biological sense. Since encountering the Resurgent Dream and other nations with non-human sentient beings and since the D.A.I.N. computer networks were recognized as sentient, popular usage of the word 'human' had greatly expanded.

As the princess pondered these things, Andreus excused himself and the Dread Lady entered the fray with Irene. Christiana nodded politely as Andreus excused himself. Coward, she thought sharply as took his leave.

When Nathicana began speaking, Christiana turned to listen. She nodded as Nathicana spoke of being well-rounded and avoiding the perils of stagnation. She suppressed another laugh when Nathicana mentioned shaved monkeys representing their countries – she pictured Irene as a monkey in an organ-grinder's suit.

As the Dread Lady made her farewell, Christiana bowed slightly. "It has truly been a pleasure, your Majesty. I hope we shall have the opportunity to meet again sometime during the present celebrations." She seems like someone I could get along with rather well, Christiana thought as Nathicana walked away.

The princess turned back to watch Speaker-Rit torpedo Irene's arguments. She kept a pleasantly neutral expression on her face, even as she relished the thought of seeing Irene lose an argument with someone she would undoubtedly consider sub-human.

"I agree," Christiana said, "that citizenship implies responsibility and a willingness to serve the greater national good. However, the Padishah makes a very good point that the disenfranchised have no stake in the greater national good or in service to the nation; rather they have a clear interest in overturning the state and creating a new state to fit their needs and desires. Further, in my experience, the disenfranchised are far more susceptible to exploitation. After all, to whom will people with no rights – or limited rights – turn if they are abused? The only person to whom they can turn is the revolutionary.

"In fact, granting citizenship to the residents of Mortville – and other such ghettos – accomplishes two great tasks. First – and more nobly – it prevents much abuse, inhumane treatment and exploitation. And, after all, who except a tyrant, fascist or sadist could condone the enrichment of a nation through the exploitation of an underclass of abused workers?

"Second – and more pragmatically – enfranchising the underclass and elevating their status removes probably the single greatest threat to order and stability in the entire Despotate."

"Take my ward – soon to be son – Tariq," Christiana smiled directly at Irene, daring her to challenge her, "who was a victim of Mortville – he lost his parents to an organized pogrom disguised as something called 'Rent Day' and was living as an orphan on the street. Left in those circumstances, there is a great possibility that he would have given in to the violence and hostility and grown up to be – if not a revolutionary – at least an enemy of Pantocratoria. However, instead, Mortville has been regenerated, with the violence and exploitation and squalor largely removed from his native community, while he, himself, is now growing up in the Imperial court of Excalbia. Rather than becoming a street gang member or worse, he is well on his way to becoming a baron and noble and young man of great character.

"Tell me, your Highness, would you prefer that the residents of Mortville live wretched lives filled with hatred for the nation they call home or live normal lives of hard work, dignity and patriotism for their nation?"

Rewinding slightly...
Christiana nodded again to the kzintosh. "Interesting," she said, her smile warming again. "So, Padishah, is Arabic the preferred language of your nation?"
"Aiwa," he replies cordially. "English is our second standard language--the international language at the time of the Segments' formation--but given our Arab plurality it was only natural that we adopt Arabic as well."

When Christiana puts forth her argument in alliance with his, he quiets down to see the reaction, although he winks his ears at her. He knows full well that Irene will never be put 'in her place' as it were--someone who so blithely fails to notice the contradiction inbetween claiming expanding the definition of citizens weakens it and claiming she does not believe that rarity increases value in human matters has a shield of willing ignorance against anything that harms--but there is some value to having someone discount themselves through their actions to become a nonentity in the minds of others. Depending on how this goes, it may be time for the king to be dead.

That he can think in Arabic now and then means the latter phrase ends up sounding like shahmat, better known in Western circles as "checkmate." At least Nadjiba is not here. I think she would be clearly offended.

As Speaker-Rrit attempted to justify his use of the term irony to describe the phenomenon of noble bloodlines, Irene lost all ability to take him seriously and actually loosed an extremely rare smile.

"Whatever you may think of the claims of those of noble bloodlines, such as mine, to be born to higher things than those of vulgar ones, monsieur, I'm afraid there is no irony to be found there. You may find the idea absurd, existentially or any other way, you may find it preposterous, you may even find it insulting, but not ironic. You are certainly right, of course, that the term 'polite society' can be an ironic one, a fact to which you bear witness. Of course, I am guilty of the same charge this evening monsieur, and thus shan't hold it against you." Irene said.

The fact that she was thoroughly enjoying herself made obvious by her uncharacteristic grin. If she thought that Speaker-Rrit's alleged arguments had in fact torpedoed her, she showed no sign. She turned to Christiana, her suddenly brightened expression contrasting with Christiana's suddenly colder one. While she was almost-smiling as she was right now, one could almost see that once upon a time as a young woman, Princess Irene was quite attractive. A perpetually sour outlook and permanent embitterment had taken their toll on her face, however, and she appeared unusually old and severe for a woman of 52.

"In case you didn't notice, mademoiselle, it is Pantocratoria's citizenry which has turned to revolutionaries." Irene joked. "But in response to your question, I do not believe my answer is either of the proffered options. Making somebody a citizen doesn't make them a patriot, mademoiselle, that's too naive a statement for an intelligent woman such as yourself to make. I would like to see someone make a demonstration of their patriotism before they are extended the franchise, Your Highness. At a minimum they should adopt our language, or rather one of our languages, and our culture. That aside, I think you're both over-looking the point that these people live in Mortville. In the Despotate. That is to say, outside of the purview of the Imperial Government. Their becoming citizens will not entitle them to a single thing unless the Despot deigns to grant it. Citizens of the Despotate cannot vote, as they are neither subject to nor electors of the Imperial Parliament, so they will still be unenfranchised. Citizens of the Despotate are entitled to no public healthcare system, no welfare, no public education. Those are all Imperial Government programmes, started largely by my Government and my brother's Government and merely divorced from the Church and put under the control of a massive new bureaucracy by the Socialists. Citizens have a somewhat different legal status from non-citizens but that status isn't a direct advantage to them in the Despotate - to kill a citizen carries a heavier sentence by precedent than to kill a non-citizen, for instance. Nothing which advantages one in the here and now, in any event. In short, citizenship in the Despotate means none of the lofty things either Your Highness or you, Mademoiselle la Comtesse, would like to think it means. Now, if you want to generalise the discussion to be about citizenship in the rest of the Empire, I would be happy to, but I would be fascinated to hear why you especially, Mademoiselle d'Armenstar, think citizenship will be of any benefit to the people of Mortville."

Speaker smiles back with a thin but toothy grin. "It has always fascinated me how those who have claimed the birthright to rule have oftentimes been the least capable. Elected leaders are also not immune to a lack of skill; they are merely more easily replaced and thus less harmful that way." Whether you desire to see it or not. "I have also never claimed to be part of polite society. I simply occasionally manage better than some born into it. I can understand where the miscategorization could come from."

He caps it off with a chuckle and a wink. "At least everyone can still smile about it, even if it requires spelling out. Sometimes subtlety is not for the best."

"Monsieur, we're talking about citizenship, and you seem intent on wandering off on irrelevant tangents." Irene told Speaker-Rrit, wondering to herself what exactly the Supreme-Emperor thought he was arguing with her about. "As someone who is both part of a line whose birthright it is to rule Pantocratoria, and who has been an elected leader of my nation, and who has had a great deal of contact with both sorts of people, I understand the point you are trying to make very clearly. I do not, however, see how it is in anyway relevant to a discussion of citizenship for the residents of Mortville."

Morgan arched a brow ever so slightly at the Dread Lady but inclined her head. "Do take care, Your Majesty."

"In an hour would be fine." Marian answered Christiana.

"Well, Your Highness..." Marian began with a small frown as Irene refused to let her not argue with her. "It is primarily of psychological benefit, at least so long as they remain resident in New Constantinople.."
...
"He does, Your Excellency." the page answered the Knootian as he saw that party in to see the high king.

Owain smiled as the Knootians were announced and shown in, gesturing to seats. "Please, Your Excellency, dear lady, honored sir, do be seated."

"I have never seen a problem with a conversation that naturally has more than one topic. Indeed, most conversations generally wander from one topic to another." Cordial smile. "I am, of course, willing to limit meanderings if it is becoming too difficult to keep the threads separated."

He casts a meaningful glance towards everyone else. Not to describe anything to Irene--no, debating with a small toad would probably be more fulfilling--but more like to poll the assorted others with subtle twitches of the brows, perhaps the ear on the far side from Irene just happening to twitch off in the general direction of Destra. No better way to deal with someone overly caught up with the concept of her own importance...

The Knootians did as they were invited to do, and sat down, Daatman taking a seat in front of Owain, flanked by Irene on his right and Tim de Boer on his left. "I am honored, Your Majesty and I would wish to extend to you the congratulations of the Knootian people on your recent coronation and upcoming wedding.", Daatman said respectfully as he readjusted his suit subconsciously.

"I trust you are enjoying your visit, Mr. Daatman? I understand it is the first time you have been to Tarana." Owain continued.

"Oh it is," Daatman replied, "Although my good friend Tim de Boer here has visited your country twice before on diplomatic occasions." He smiled faintly. "I should compliment you on your hospitality, we have felt very welcome and at home here."

Owain smiled genuinely. "I am glad to hear that. It is certainly our desire that all of our guests might feel at home."

"You live in a very beautiful palace", Irene chimed in innocently.

Owain smiled pleasantly at her. "I am honored you think, Madame. We are rather proud of the Marble City. I am told Knootoss is also rather lovely this time of year?"

"Ah, the weather is pleasant in the summer I suppose, Your Majesty", Irene answered. "Although there is much to be said for the autumn golden haze as well. Still, I do not believe I've ever seen anything that quite compares to your city." She gave a pleasant smile as she looked over at her husband.

"I am very glad that you could make some free time for us on this momentous day", Daatman said. "With all these celebratory events, especially your wedding and coronation."

"It is my pleasure." Owain said. "After all, you have made time to travel all this way. I very much doubt that a man in your position has much time to spare."

"I make do", Daatman said with a sympathetic shrug, "It is actually quite good, I
think, to take a break from these arduous coalition negotiations."

"I can only imagine." Owain replied, having only a vague idea of what Daatman meant.

"I have full confidence, though, that they will be successful", the Knootian answered with a brief nod. "So that we can minimalise the period of political limbo in between Galadriël’s government and my own administration." He looked over at Tim de Boer. "Mr. De Boer here is my prospective Foreign minister, and already we have appreciated some of the support which the Resurgent Dream has given to the peace process in the Excalbian Isles. Perhaps some of the ties created today can also contribute to that cause."

"That is to be hoped. Have you, by any chance, met my youngest sister, the Grand Duchess Morgan?" Owain inquired of Daatman.

"I'm afraid not", the Knootian replied with a frown.

"Ah." Owain said with a slight shrug. "You will doubtless have noted many of the other parties to the upcoming negotiations are also present this evening."

"I have", he said, "although I am afraid to admit I have not yet had the chance to speak to any of them quite yet”, he continued with a mildly ironic grin, "If I may be so bold, would Your Majesty have any suggestions as to which Excalbians or Pantocratorians to approach?" Tim de Boer frowned at Daatman, thinking it an inappropriate question, but the Prime Minister looked at Owain with an open expression.

Owain arched a brow ever so slightly, having the same initial reaction as Tim de Boer. "Well, it would certainly be appropriate to congratulate Princess Theodora and Prince Peter."

"Oh, I intend to extend my congratulations to them as soon as I see them", he replied with a faint apologetic smile that indicated that he had probably been misunderstood and had noticed it but was unable to do anything about it.

"I heard that one of the Pantocratorian princesses is actually my namesake?", Irene chimed in, intending for a courteous save. "I would much like to meet her. I understood that she is also in attendance today?"

Owain almost told Mrs. Daatman than he couldn't imagine she would want to meet the princess in question were she familiar with the lady's character. Almost. "Yes, Her Highness is in attendance, I believe."

Irene, of course, only took this as encouragement for meeting her. "Excellent", she said with a smile, looking briefly at Jan Willem before turning back to Owain. "It could be pleasantly surprising to see how our two countries can have these little things in common, still. I always tell my husband how important these little things are."

"I think it is Mrs. Karamanlis's middle name." Owain shared off-handedly.

"How wonderful!", Irene crowed. "Well that is something." Tim, meanwhile, was shifting in his seat a little uncomfortably. He had some prior acquaintance with Irene Capet from when she was still in politics, and needless to say he did not share the sentiments of the brand new First Lady.

Owain laughed lightly at the woman's enthusiasm. "Your wife is most charming, sir." he commented to Jan-Willem.

"Thank you", Daatman said a little bemused, reaching for (and finding) Irene’s hand almost instinctively. Their eyes shared a brief and quiet moment of tenderness before they let go again.

"Well, I look forward to seeing you at the ceremonies tomorrow." Owain said, rising to show them the door.

All three Knootians rose, and respectfully said their goodbyes to the High King before moving out into the crowd again.

"Good, I would appreciate it if you would, monsieur." Irene replied to Speaker-Rrit and refocussed her attention on Marian. "Mademoiselle, the inhabitants of places like Mortville don't need... touchy-feely nonsense of so-called psychological benefit, they need charity. Having food on the table is infinitely preferable to having a certificate on the wall which makes one feel good when one sees it. Surely you agree?"

The argument dragged on and on among the small cluster of notables still gathered in the Throne Room. Countess Marian ni Eiluned held doggedly to the thesis of human dignity, over and above simple material considerations. As the evening wore on, the small group found themselves more and more alone as the rest of the guests retired for the evening. Finally, Marian herself made courtesy to the Pantocratorian Princess. “Forgive me, Your
Highness, but I really must retire I promised to meet with Princess Christiana this evening.”

Her Excellency did indeed meet with Princess Christiana later that evening. It was a warm meeting, as one between old friends, at least on Marian’s part. Previous meetings with the Princess had left nothing but a positive impression on the former Sidhe. A lot of technical details were worked out and many arrangements made for the benefit of the good people of Mortville. However, it didn’t seem enough. It was becoming increasingly
apparent to Marian that there were very deep problems in New Constantinople which it was simply outside of her power, or Christiana’s, to fix.

The High King and Prince Brendan also dutifully kept their engagement to go drinking with Prince Andreus. The atmosphere was jovial and relaxed, the three men listening to upbeat but traditional music while getting themselves properly inebriated, but not too much, as they had a busy day tomorrow. Among the merry-making, however, Owain did manage to find time to promise Andreus he would look into the matter of Countess Marian’s title.

The night left everyone to settle into their quarters at the palace, excepting only Henri and Manjula who had found other accomadations for the night and a number of Danaan nobles and Members of Parliament who maintained Tarana residences. The quarters seemed much like they must have been centuries ago, shining rooms of finely carved marble, furnished with cherry wood and lit by lamplight. The several lamps, hanging from the ceiling or upon the wall, cast flickering shadows over the white floors and walls,
creating an almost haunted scene to those not used to it. It was only natural that the Danaans hesitated to install more modern conveniences in most of the Old City, few conveniences seemed worth altering a centuries old giant carving.

The beds themselves, of course, sported the most comfortable of modern mattresses. Once the lamps were out and they had settled in, most of the guests slept like babies. It seemed they had barely gone to sleep when servants locked lightly on doors, to serve breakfast and inform the guests that they had three hours before the first wedding
ceremony, at St. Monica’s Cathedral.

The Neo-Heroic cathedral’s organ came suddenly to life, filling the spacious building with the sounds of the Holistan royal anthem. The cathedral was filled by then with nobles, courtiers, members of Parliament, ambassadors, and visiting foreign rulers and dignitaries. Owain was sharing the his box with the Pantocratorians. All rose as one as the Emperor entered, arm in arm with Princess Theodora. The two stood below a purple canopy held by pages. The young woman’s sisters and her bridesmaids joined her, proceeding down the aisle to the altar, where Pedr Cardinal Griffiths, Archbishop of Tarana, stood waiting. Owain gave a severe look to a couple ladies of his court he thought were whispering about the fact that Theodora was not wearing white. On one side stood Prince Brendan with the company of knights and officers who were serving as his groomsmen, resplendent in their formal dress uniforms. Before the altar were two cushions, one purple and one red, but both bearing the Lion of Holista proudly sewn into them in real gold cloth.

As Theodora arrives at the altar, her bridesmaids took up a position slightly off to the side, symmetrical with respect to Brendan’s groomsmen. The Emperor went to join his family and Owain’s in the box.

“In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” intoned Cardinal Griffiths.

“Amen.” Responded the congregation.

“And also with you.” Replied the assembly.

“Coming together as God’s family, with confidence let us ask for the Father’s forgiveness, for her is full of gentleness and compassion.” continued the Cardinal.

"I confess to almighty God, and to you here present that I have sinned through my own fault, in my thoughts and in my words, in what I have done, and in what I have failed to do.” answered the congregation. “And I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin, all the angels and saints, and you, here present, to pray for me to the Lord our God." Continued a substantial number of them. If the Cardinal noticed that most of those gathered, including the king, left off the second clause, he did not show it.

The huge choir started singing "Kyrie eleison. Christi eleison. Kyrie eleison."

“Let us pray.” the Cardinal said. He paused a moment and then stepped forward to the young couple.

“Brendan, wilt thou take Theodora, here present, for thy lawful wife, according to the rite of our Holy Mother the Church?” he asked the Holistan.

Brendan answered confidently and clearly. “I will.”

Giffiths nodded and then turned to Theodora. “Theodora, wilt thou take Brendan, here present, for thy lawful husband, according to the rite of our Holy Mother the Church?”

“I will.” Theodora answered with a girlish grin.

The Cardinal turned back to Brendan.

“Repeat after me.” he said. “I, Brendan Maoilíosa Hagan O’Brien, take thee, Theodora Irene Marie Antoinette Capet, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

Brendan smiled at the Cardinal before turning to Theodora and repeating “I, Brendan Maoilíosa Hagan O’Brien, take thee, Theodora Irene Marie Antoinette Capet, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.”

Cardinal Griffiths turned next to Theodora. “Repeat after me. I, Theodora Irene Marie Antoinette Capet, take thee, Brendan Maoilíosa Hagan O’Brien, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part."

“I, Theodora Irene Marie Antoinette Capet, take thee, Brendan Maoilíosa Hagan O’Brien, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part." Repeated the Pantocratorian princess.

Making the sign of the Cross as he spoke, the Cardinal pronounced “I join you together in marriage, in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

After he sprinkled the newly weds with holy water, Griffiths then accepted the cushion carrying the ring.

“Our help is the name of the Lord.” he pronounced.

“Who made heaven and earth.” Responded the assembly.

“O Lord, hear my prayer.” continued the Cardinal.

"And let my cry come unto Thee." replied the couple.

"Let us pray." said the Cardinal, sprinkling the ring with holy water in the sign of the cross. "Bless, O Lord, this ring, which we bless in Thy name, that she who shall wear it, keeping true faith unto her spouse, may abide in Thy peace and in obedience to Thy will, and ever live in mutual love. Through Christ our Lord."

“Amen.” answered the people.

The Cardinal then offered the ring to Brendan on the cushion.

Brendan took the ring with a smile. He gently took Theodora’s hand and slid the ring on the third finger of her left hand. "With this ring I thee wed and I plight unto thee my troth."

Cardinal Griffiths smiled down at the prince and princess of Holista as he again made the sign of the Cross.

"In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen." he said.
“Confirm, O God, that which Thou hast wrought in us.” said the Cardinal.

“From Thy holy temple, which is in Jerusalem.” answered the assembly.

“Lord, have mercy.” said the Cardinal.

“Christ, have mercy.” answered the people.

“Lord have mercy.” said the Cardinal again before quietly starting the Lord’s Prayer. “Our Father, who art in heaven…”

“And lead us not into temptation.” he became audible once more.

“But deliver us from evil.” came the answer.

“Save Thy servants.”

“Who hope in Thee, O my God.”


"Send them help, O Lord, from Thy holy place."

"And defend them out of Zion."

"Be unto them, Lord, a tower of strength."

"From the face of the enemy."

"O Lord, hear my prayer."

"And let my cry come unto Thee."

"The Lord be with you."

"And with Thy spirit."

“Let us pray.” said the Cardinal. "Look down with favor, O Lord, we beseech Thee, upon these Thy servants, and graciously protect this, Thine ordinance, whereby Thou hast provided for the propagation of mankind; that they who are joined together by Thy authority may be preserved by Thy help; through Christ our Lord. Amen."

The Cardinal gestured the couple to kneel.

The choir started singing the Introit in Latin. "Deus Israel conjungat vos: et ipse sit vobiscum, qui misertus est duobus unicis: et nunc, Domine, fac eos plenius benedicere te..."

After the choir went quiet once more, the Cardinal continued.

"May the God of Israel join you together: and may He be with you, who was merciful to two only children: and now, O Lord, make them bless Thee more fully." he said. "Blessed are all they that fear the Lord, that walk in His ways."

"Hear us, almighty and merciful God: that what is performed by our ministry may be abundantly fulfilled with Thy blessing." he continued. "Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end."

"Uxor tua sicut vitis abundans in lateribus domus tuae." sang the choir.

"Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine on the sides of thy house. Thy children as olive plants round about thy table." said Cardinal Griffiths.

"Alleluia! Alleluia!" sang the choir.

"May the Lord send you help from the sanctuary, and defend you out of Sion. Alleluia." concluded the Cardinal.

Archbishop Tewdws Morgan, the Archbishop of Narich, then stepped to the pulpit. The assembly showed the proper respect for the Gospel as it is carried to Archbishop Morgan, who kisses the book before opening it.

“The Lord be with you.” said the Archbishop.

“And with thy spirit.” replied the assembly.

"A reading from the Gospel according to Matthew." he said. The assembly made the appropriate gestures, although several faltered or sought help from their neighbors.

"At that time: The Pharisees came to Jesus, tempting Him and saying; It is lawful for a man to put away his wife for every cause? Who answering said to them, Have ye not read, that He who made man from the beginning, made them male and female? and He said, For this cause shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall cleave to his wife, and they two shall be in one flesh. Therefore, now they are not two but one flesh. What, therefore, God hath joined together, let no man put asunder." read the Archbishop of Narich "Praise be to thee Lord Jesus Christ."

"In Thee, O Lord, have I hoped: I said, Thou art my God; my times are in Thy hands." prayed Archbishop Morgan.

Gifts are brought forth and laid upon the altar.

Griffiths prayed just loud enough for Brendan and Theodora to hear. . "Accept, we beseech Thee, O Lord, the gifts offered for the sacred law of marriage: and do Thou dispose according to Thy will, that which is instituted by Thy bounty. Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end."

"It is truly meet and just, right and for our salvation, that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto Thee, O holy Lord, Father almighty, everlasting God, through Christ our Lord." he continued, audibly once again. "Through whom the Angels praise Thy Majesty, the Dominations worship it, the Powers stand in awe. The heavens and the heavenly hosts together with the blessed Seraphim in triumphant chorus unite to celebrate it. Together with them, we entreat Thee, that Thou mayest bid our voices also to be admitted, while we say in lowly praise."

The choir sang the Lord’s Prayer in Latin.

The Cardinal washed his hands, kissed the altar, and turned around once more.

"Brethren, pray that my sacrifice and yours may be well pleasing to God the Father almighty." he said.

"May the Lord accept sacrifice at your hands, for the praise and glory of His name, for our own benefit, and for that of all His Church." answered most of the guests.

"Sanctify, we beseech Thee, O Lord, our God, by the invocation of Thy holy Name, the Sacrifice we offer, and by it make of us an everlasting offering unto Thee. Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who with Thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, liveth and reigneth, one God," he said secretly, before finishing aloud. "...world without end."

“Amen.” came the reply.

He turned once more to the couple.

"Let us pray. Be gracious, O Lord, to our humble supplications: and graciously assist this Thine institution, which Thou hast established for the increase of mankind: that what is joined together by Thine authority, may be preserved by Thine aid." he said. "Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end."

"O God, who by Thine own mighty power, didst make all things out of nothing: who, having set in order the beginnings of the world, didst appoint Woman to be an inseparable helpmeet to Man, made like unto God, so that Thou didst give to woman's body its beginnings in man's flesh, thereby teaching that what it pleased Thee to form from one substance, might never be lawfully separated: O God, who, by so excellent a mystery hast consecrated the union of man and wife, as to foreshadow in this nuptial bond the union of Christ with His Church: O God, by whom Woman is joined to Man, and the partnership, ordained from the beginning, is endowed with such blessing that it alone was not withdrawn either by the punishment of original sin, nor by the sentence of the flood: graciously look upon this Thy handmaid, who, about to be joined in wedlock, seeks Thy defense and protection. May it be to her a yoke of love and peace: faithful and chaste, may she be wedded in Christ, and let her ever be the imitator of holy women: let her be dear to her husband, like Rachel: wise, like Rebecca: long-lived and faithful like Sara. Let not the author of deceit work any of his evil deeds in her. May she continue, clinging to the faith and to the commandments. Bound in one union, let her shun all unlawful contact. Let her protect her weakness by the strength of discipline; let her be grave in behavior, respected for modesty, well-instructed in heavenly doctrine. Let her be fruitful in offspring; be approved and innocent; and come to the repose of the blessed and the kingdom of heaven. May they both see their children's children to the third and fourth generation, and may they reach the old age which they desire." the Cardinal said. "Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end."

"Therefore, we humbly pray and beseech Thee, most merciful Father, through Jesus Christ Thy Son, Our Lord, to receive and to bless these gifts," says the Cardinal, making a cross again. "these presents, these holy unspotted sacrifices, which we offer up to Thee, in the first place, for Thy holy Catholic Church, that it may please Thee to grant her peace, to guard, unite, and guide her, throughout the world: as also for Thy servant Leo, our Pope, and me, O Lord, Thy humble servant, and for all your Church."

"Be mindful, O Lord, of Thy servants, Brendan and Theodora, and of all here present, whose faith and devotion are known to Thee, for whom we offer, or who offer up to Thee, this sacrifice of praise, for themselves, their families, and their friends, for the salvation of their souls and the health and welfare they hope for, and who now pay their vows to Thee, God eternal, living, and true." he said.

"Wherefore, we beseech Thee, O Lord, graciously to receive this oblation which we Thy servants, and with us Thy whole family, offer up to Thee: dispose our days in Thy peace; command that we be saved from eternal damnation and numbered among the flock of Thine elect. Through Christ our Lord. Amen." the Cardinal said, raising his arms over the bread and wine on the altar. As he concludes, a bell was rung once.

"And do Thou, O God, vouchsafe in all respects to bless, consecrate, and approve this our oblation, to perfect it and render it well-pleasing to Thyself, so that it may become for us the body and blood of Thy most beloved Son, Jesus Christ our Lord." said the Cardinal, making the sign of the cross at several points.

"Who, the day before He suffered, took bread into His holy and venerable hands, and having lifted up His eyes to heaven, to Thee, God, His almighty Father, giving thanks to Thee, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to His disciples, saying: Take ye and eat ye all of this:" said the Cardinal, before taking the host and holding it up for the whole assembly to see, while the bell rang three more times. "FOR THIS IS MY BODY."

He put down the host and uncovered the chalice.

"In like manner, after He had supped, taking also into His holy and venerable hands this goodly chalice again giving thanks to Thee, He blessed it, and gave it to His disciples, saying: Take ye, and drink ye all of this:" the Cardinal said, before holding up the chalice as the bell rang three times again. "for this is the chalice of my blood, of the new and everlasting covenant, the mystery of faith, which for you and for many shall be shed unto the remission of sins. As often as ye shall do these things, ye shall do them in memory of Me. Behold, thus shall every man be blessed that feareth the Lord; and mayest thou see thy children's children; peace upon Israel."

The Cardinal then offered Holy Communion to Brendan and to Theodora, both of whom accepted.

Ten priests and bishops are handed chalices and plates of the host to distribute to the assembly. The great bulk of the Danaans do not receive it. Cardinal Griffiths then carried the bread and wine up into the royal box where the Pantocratorians all receive it. He then personally offers it to Nathicana D’Aquisto as well, the only other Catholic sovereign present.

After Communion is completed, the Cardinal resumes his position, speaking a few final prayers.

Facing the assembly, he prayed “We beseech Thee, almighty God, to accompany with Thy gracious favor, the institution of Thy Providence, and keep in lasting peace those whom Thou dost join in lawful union. Through our Lord Jesus Christ Thy Son, Who liveth and reigneth with Thee in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, world without end."

Turning back to the couple, he prayed “May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob be with you: and Himself fulfill His blessing on you: that you may see your children's children even to the third and fourth generation: and thereafter possess life everlasting, by the aid of our Lord Jesus Christ. May almighty God, the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost, bless you." Making the sign of the Cross.

After this, the Cardinal turned back to the assembled guests. “The Mass is ended.”

“Thanks be to God.” answered the Congregation as the choir burst once more into song and the church bells rang loudly.

OOC: Well, we started RPing this on IRC before TRD posted, but didn’t finish beforehand because I had to eat dinner. So this is obviously before the ceremony, due to fluid time...

As morning broke in the capital of The Resurgent Dream, Ainulindalion was already well awake when the knock came softly at the door. It was, in fact, probably louder than everyone else’s, since it was made by Chris Denton, the Empress’ head bodyguard, rather a local servant.

Which was just as well, seeing as how there was no need for the servant to see the naked body of the Empress sprawled a top a tangle of covers and curled up with the equally naked Lord Daniels, who was, typically for him, wide awake. He had been slightly surprised at Gehenna’s insistence that they not try to hide the fact that they were sleeping with each other outside the state of matrimony, considering the High Church aspects of two of the four countries participating in the triple marriage.

Not that he was about to complain. It would have been horribly lonely for fifteen or twenty seconds to pretend to go sleep in another room and have to depart in the morning to fool some misguided sense of propriety. What, after all, was wrong, when demonstrating their love when his own oaths kept him from marrying?

When the knock came, he grimaced as he glanced at the clock. Gehenna had only been asleep for no more than four hours, and he knew that was not enough for her if she wanted to stay awake through what promised to be three fairly boring and repetitive ceremonies. The sound of Officer Denton’s knock failed to wake her, as Balion lightly forced his will upon reality.

Untangling himself, though, he stood and let darkness swirl about him, a wave of his hand bringing some of the lamps back to life, while he collected the food from the servant at the doorway, while nodding to Denton. “Morning, Chris.”

“Good morning, milord.”

Ainulindalion smiled. “You know I’ve told you to call me George.”

Denton smiled back at the young man. “Of course, milord.” The executed script, replayed a hundred and more times between the two, brought a grin to the immortal’s face, along with a chuckle as he vanished back inside and set the breakfast tray on a side table. Slipping back into the bed, he contemplated how to wake Gehenna up, finally settling on letting her sleep for another hour.

Of course, at the end of said hour, she was laying on her back on the bed, while her lover lay across her, his hands running across her body as he woke her with a passionate kiss.

Slipping out of sleep, Gehenna looked up into the eyes of Balion, a smile spreading over her lips once they were free of his kiss. “Good morning.” Her eyes sparkled, the traces of sleep disappearing almost instantly as she slid her hand onto his back and up to his neck before pulling him down into another kiss.

“Is it time to get up already?” She asked as their lips parted again, although the scent of the breakfast that was wafting around the room answered her question, as did the slight grumble of her stomach. “It feels like I just closed my eyes.”

Her lover nodded at her. “You’ve been asleep for five hours.” He grimaced slightly. “I’m afraid we had a little too much fun last night.” He chuckled slightly. “The Dreamers thought it was time to get up an hour ago but I thought you’d be better for the sleep.” He leaned down and kissed her lightly. “I wasn’t sure how much time you would want to get ready, though if you don’t want to use the full hour and a half, I’m sure we can think of something.”

Gehenna laughed lightly, her fingers trailing over Balion’s skin. “I am not sure turning up for a wedding even a little late will be appreciated, especially if it is due to us being otherwise engaged.” She looked into his eyes, wanting nothing more than to stay right where she was. “Thank you for being so considerate.”

She wriggled slightly beneath him, bringing her body to life. “I still find it hard to imagine why His Majesty believes it would take us three hours to get ready.” She broke into more gentle laughter. “Of course, I am sure few are as lucky as I in having someone who can dress them with a flick of his fingers.”

Balion’s hands slithered lightly along the outsides of Gehenna’s thighs with the barest touch. “Well you do have that advantage.” He grinned slightly. “But imagine if you will how long it takes some old battleaxe like the Duchess Irene to get ready.” He leaned down and kissed her softly as his hands worked higher up her body. “Perhaps there is a way we can, on the other hand, kill two birds with one stone.”

He rolled off of her, and then sat up on the bed, pulling her leg, then her body across his lap and setting Gehenna down slowly and precisely in his lap, the exhalation of his breath tickling the back of her neck in the new position, while he floated the food tray over to the bed. Hands sliding down the lithe body of the Empress first traced her inner thighs and then onto his own thighs before reaching the tray to uncover the breakfast dishes. “Looks good.”

“It smells good too.” Gehenna looked at the food before them, as she made herself comfortable on his lap. Her eyes twinkled as she stilled her body, a shiver racing up her spine. “I do not recall someone bringing the food.” Despite a slight frown, her smile remained. “I must have been tired.”

Balion shifted forward to press his chest into Gehenna’s back and stabbed a forkful of the food, which he lifted up to her mouth. “You were tired,” he explained, “but I made sure the knock at the door did not wake you any, as well, so you could get your sleep.” He grinned as he kissed the nape of her neck. “I seem to recover faster than you do.” After she swallowed, he twisted her hips slightly to kiss her on the lips.

Her lips pressed against his, as she fell into the kiss, instantly forgetting about breakfast. She enjoyed the feeling of his skin against hers, the heat transferring between their bodies. As her lips left his, she once more fell into a smile, before she bit lightly on her lips, her movements making her breathless.

“Sometimes I wish I had your stamina.” She brushed her fingers lightly against his cheek as she looked into his face. Her mind half on feeding her hunger, while the other half was focused on the meal before her.

Ainulindalion grinned. “Well, it does help to be a god, you know.” He speared another bit of food and swallowed the bite after only a tiny bit of chewing. Wrapping his arms around Gehenna’s waist, she was no doubt surprised at the shock of cold metal tines of the fork sliding along her ribs.

Gasping with shock, Gehenna shivered once more, as a mix of sensations raced over her body. Her breath caught in her throat as she moved against him, quickly managing to bring herself under control. “Are you going to eat me now?” She smiled as she once more turned her head to face him.

Balion chuckled and leaned in to playfully bite at her nose before kissing it. “You had no complaints about me eating you last night.” He wriggled his eyebrows at her, and then moved the fork to get more food, leaning into his lover and then sitting up straight once he had filled the fork. Nuzzling his head against the Empress’ cheek, he redirected her attentions to the food.

Opening her mouth, she murmured softly, before accepting the offered food. Chewing thoughtfully, she closed her eyes, savouring. She leant back against him, shifting her position slightly, enjoying the feeling of him against her. A smile once more crept onto her lips, as she swallowed, her mouth parted slighted as she inhaled sharply and then let out a long breath.

The immortal being grinned, and then settled into a comfortable rhythm of eating, leaning forward and spearing food around his lover and then offering it to her, occasionally taking a bite for himself, until they had completely cleared the tray of anything edible. When they finished, Balion glanced over at the clock. “Perhaps we had better speed things along if we want to be ready on time. The shower, perhaps?”

Gehenna looked at her lover, her eyes meeting his, no words really needed to answer his question, as her gaze spoke for her. “A shower would be wonderful.” She slipped her hand over his thigh, her fingers tracing slowly, her breath becoming slightly irregular, as she moved her position to look at him. “We don’t want to be late for the wedding.”

Ainulindalion grinned. “Certainly not.” At which point, in total contradiction to his words, he lay back on the bed. Fortunately, he only lay down long enough to turn Gehenna to face him properly, then sat up and wrapped his arms around her. Carefully, he slid over the to the edge of the bed before kissing her soundly, his hands slipping down her body to wrap her legs around his waist.

When he stood up quickly, they shifted down onto his hips, causing Gehenna to drop a little before he caught her, and then carried her off to the shower.

* * * * * *

About twenty minutes later, flushed from the heat, the two lovers finished toweling each other off and Balion leaned against the cool tiles of the wall to examine Gehenna’s naked body as she stood highlighted against the lights of the vanity. “You certainly are beautiful, dear heart, especially right after we… shower.” He grinned, mirth spreading across his face.

Gehenna blushed, a mix of the heat in the room and his compliment. “Thank you.” She moved over to where he stood and placed a tender kiss to his lips. “You are very handsome, even when we have not been showering.” She grinned and pulled the towel around her body.

“We will never finishing dressing if you continue to admire me.” She let her eyes slid down the length of his body, pausing briefly before she once more raised her eyes to his, winking playfully.

Twirling in a bright flash of light, Balion grinned even more broadly at his lover as he reappeared fully dressed in a, for him, rather flashy outfit. Of black, of course. No changing that. But the tunic style jacket, over black trousers, that dropped to his hips sported a front of two rows of silver buttons, along with flickers of silver as he moved slightly, woven into the fabric.

At the base of his throat, a snarling demon in silver bound his shimmering cape, while a belt and boots of gleaming black, mirror polished, completed the outfit. Well, that and the ever present sword. “What do you think?” he asked playfully, turning in a circle again, though far slower this time.

Running her gaze once more over his body, Gehenna nodded, her smile indicating her pleasure in his appearance. “You look stunning as usual.” Her fingers reached up and gently brushed over the material that covered his body. “Not that I ever expect you to dress in anything other than the most suitable outfit.” She ran her finger over her towel. “Are you going to do the honours, or should I dress myself?”

Balion cocked his head sideways, considering, and then straightened, stepping forward and taking her into his arms to kiss her deeply. When he pulled away, she was dressed in the sleeveless plum gown she had brought for the ceremonies, and he ran his finger along the ruched front of it, his hand finally falling away about her waist as he glanced to the floor to make sure the pleated skirt properly reached her ankles.

Then, tightly grasping her waist, he lifted her up and then set her gently in her matching heeled sandals. Her hair was, of course, perfectly done, as was the slight bit of makeup he knew from experience she would want, despite his experienced opinion that she did not need it. A light cape, of matching color and white lining, hung from her shoulders to deal with the possibility of any drafts in the old palace.

Taking a step back, Gehenna looked down the length of her body, still surprised when her clothing instantly appeared, despite the number of times that Balion had dressed her that way. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, smiling at the image that smiled back. Her eyes once more found her lover’s. “Perfect, as always.” She took a step forward and placed her right hand on the back of his neck as she leant in to kiss him, her lips lingering against his, until she finally pulled away for breath. “Thank you.” She lowered her hand, sliding it down his arm and taking hold of his hand, guiding him back into the bedroom.

“I am still grateful for the day you appeared in my garden.” Her eyes twinkled with the memory, although at the time it was not a happy occurrence. “I love you, Balion, Ainulindalion and Lord Daniels.” She smiled as she recited off all the names that she knew him under, knowing somehow that he most likely went by a lot more.

Ainulindalion smiled down, though not quite as much as usual, at the mortal woman who held his heart, and kissed her softly. “And I love you, Gehenna, Empress of Tartarus and of my heart.” He drew her into a tight hug, careful not to muss her or her outfit. “Shall we go see these other people who are in love now?”

“I think we should.” Gehenna smiled and walked over to where her matching clutch bag lay resting. She picked it up, and slipped it under her arm, as she moved back over to where Balion was standing. “I am ready, if you are.” She linked her arm to his, her touch light and yet still obviously present.

Turning slightly to face her, though not pulling his arm away, the immortal lifted his free hand and pressed it to her chest, just above her breasts. Gehenna could no doubt feel a familiar weight there that had been missing, torn off the night before in their activity.

“Now we’re ready,” he whispered as he lowered his lips to hers once more. When Gehenna looked down, the familiar red glow was more purple, blended to match her dress. “Don’t ever forget,” he continued in the same quiet voice.

Gehenna raised her eyes, meeting Balion’s black gaze. “How could I ever forget?” She smiled, and pressed a tenderly kiss to his lips. “If we don’t want to be the last to arrive, I guess we should be on our way.”

Ainulindalion smiled. “Indeed we should.” He led the way out the door, sweeping past Officer Denton, whom he felt, rather than saw, fall into step behind the two of them as they made their way to the cathedral.

Morning finally arrived, or more like it arrived too quickly for Lady Marissa, who felt that she had barely closed her eyes before it was time for her to wake. Of course, she realised how lucky she was not to be the first bride to have to walk down the aisle that day, and she had several more hours that the other two brides. Not that this gave her a lot more time in bed, as excitement and nerves and every other emotion that she could feel swept over her.

Having got out of bed and showered, Marissa was soon joined by her mother and sister, who arrived an hour after her alarm sounded. She greeted each with a hug and a kiss, before ushering them inside. The three women ate their breakfast together, discussing general topics of conversation from the weather to the day before to local news that they had seen that morning.

Once breakfast was over, Marissa stood in the middle of her bedroom, and looked about her, almost as if she was taking one last look at her old life. Lady Lavinia was gazing out of the window, checking the sky for signs of the weather changing. Her sister, Lady Elizabeth walked over to where she was standing and smiled, her head tilted slightly to one side, looking at her questioningly.

“Getting cold feet?” The younger of the two women asked, her eyes twinkling revealing her teasing.

Marissa shook her head. “No and yes.” She let out a little laugh as she moved over to the bed and lowered herself down, sitting on the edge. “I thought I was nervous yesterday, meeting all those heads of state and other important people, but today…” She shook her head. “Who would have thought marrying the man you love would be so frightening?”

Elizabeth sat down beside her, looking at her kindly. “It’s a big day in a person’s life. Making that commitment to love and be with someone forever.” She took hold of her sister’s hand. “And for you, you have the added pressure of taking on a whole new role at the same time. You aren’t only agreeing to love him and be with him, you are agreeing to help him in his role. And it’s a very prominent role. Everything you do will be public from now on.”

“You really are not helping.” Marissa laughed lightly, as she frowned at her sister. “But I know that you are right.” Inhaling deeply, she let out a long breath. “It is going to be different. It’s not like I’m unused to living in the public eye, but this is going to be…”

“Like living in a goldfish bowl?” Elizabeth squeezed Marissa’s hand. “You will make a wonderful queen. His Majesty is a lucky man.”

Marissa looked at her sister, surprise etched on her face. “You really think that?”

Elizabeth nodded. “Yes.” She smiled, her eyes slowly beginning to twinkle again. “And I know that I will be forever grateful to him for getting you out of my hair.” She broke into laughter, her sister joining in the mirth a moment later.

“I knew you were being too nice.” Marissa finally replied once the laughter died down. “Thank you.” She wrapped her arms around Elizabeth and smiled, as she hugged the young woman.

“Oh, we have so much to do, and already time is flying away.” Lady Lavinia muttered as she walked away from the window, stopping before her daughters, who broke out of each other’s embrace. “You have to get dressed, and your hair needs to be fixed. And I hope your father is getting ready, I told him to be here an hour before you need to leave. Oh, I just know he’ll forget something and we’ll end up being late for the ceremony.”

Elizabeth rose from the bed and stood before her mother, placing her hands lightly on the older woman’s arms. “Mama, everything will be fine. Issi has plenty of time to get ready, and Papa will arrive on time and be dressed to perfection.” She guided Lavinia to a chair and gently encouraged her to sit down. “We need a glass of champagne to calm our nerves.”

“Yes, yes, champagne would be nice.” Lavinia muttered, her mind already focusing on several things that she needed to do.

“I’ll get us all a glass.” Elizabeth looked over at Marissa and smiled, before heading off to get them all a drink, hoping that it would keep her mother occupied and calm for as long as possible.

Marissa rose from the bed, and walked over to the television, switching it on. The room instantly erupted into noise, as the screen filled with news concerning the day ahead. The young woman felt her stomach flip as she once more focused on the upcoming ceremony.

“I should have married him when he was still the Duke of Tasat.” Marissa’s eyes were fixed to the television, as she spoke softly to herself. “No one would have paid any attention to us then.”

Elizabeth walked over to her and handed her a glass. “You shouldn’t have waited so long to make him love you.” Her smile grew over her face. “Anyway, stop worry. Everyone will love you, and those that don’t are not worth worrying about.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Marissa lifted the glass to her lips and took a sip, the bubbles fizzing on her tongue. “I just hope I don’t say the wrong thing or do something to embarrass myself, or worse, embarrass Owain.” She lowered her champagne, cradling the glass in her hands. “I’m being foolish, aren’t I?”

Her sister nodded. “Yes. Yes, you are.”

The two young women broke out into more laughter, as they walked back over to the bed, Marissa sitting while the younger of the sisters remained standing. The room feel silent as the three became focused on the television, watching as events unfolded and highlights of the previous day filled the screen. Marissa smiled, as her eyes fell upon an image of Owain.

“He is very handsome, isn’t he?” Marissa said, before taking another sip of her champagne.

“Oh, yes, he is very handsome.” Lavinia replied. “I remember the first day we met him. I thought then what a handsome young man. I knew instantly that you and he would make the perfect couple. So polite. The kind of man every mother wants for her daughter. And then he wasn’t even a king.”

Elizabeth and Marissa turned to stare at their mother, before turning to each other, once more the room erupting into laughter. The champagne had already begun to calm their nerves.

“You still have to thank cousin Damien for bringing you both together, Issi.” Elizabeth grinned at her sister. “Without him almost knocking His Majesty over, you would never have met.”

“I’d rather thank Val for inviting him to the house.” Marissa smiled back. “Which I have done on more than one occasion. Of course, he will not let me forget the part he played in the whole thing. Not that I will hold that against him.” She looked over to the clock beside the bed. “I suppose we should start getting ready. I’d really hate to keep Owain waiting.”

Elizabeth nodded. “The last thing you want is for him to think you’ve jilted him at the altar.”

“He knows I would not do that, I love him too much.” Marissa blushed slightly as she got up from the bed. “But he might begin to worry if I’m late.”

The three women got up from their respective seats and began to prepare for the biggest day in Marissa’s life. As they got ready, once more Marissa began to feel a myriad of emotions spread over her, the most powerful of all, was happiness.

Covenant Evangelical Methodist Episcopal Church was a large building in the Greek Doric style. While stairs leading downwards into a broad hallway were directly in front of the guests as they entered, pages guided them to the stairs to either side of the room leading up to a small balcony. In the center of the balcony were open doors leading to the sanctuary where the guests were seated. Compared to the Catholic cathedral, the room was unadorned with no statues or paintings present. Above the altar hung a large, white cross. The windows were of lovely stained glass, displaying the names and symbols of Christ in the Greek alphabet rather than pictures of Biblical stories or saints. There was no box set aside here, although the Danaan royal family sat in the front with the Excalbians. Peter and his groomsmen stood to one side before the altar.

Bishop Ieuan Lewis smiled towards the entrance as the organ began to play the anthem of Shieldcrest, a very ancient tune with a strong Celtic feel to it. As it played, Gwendolyn entered on her brother’s arm, resplendent in a gown of purest white. The entire crowd rose as the king entered. Her bridesmaids trailed behind her, moving into position as she stepped up to the altar, smiling brightly at her soon to be husband. Owain stepped back, staying near the altar and not yet handing his sister to Peter.

“Dearly beloved…” the bishop began “…we are gathered here today in the sight of God to witness and to bless the joining together of Peter and Gwendolyn in holy matrimony. The covenant of marriage has been established by Almighty God, who created us male and female for one another. With His presence and power, our Lord Jesus Christ graced the wedding at Cana of Galilee and likewise gave in his sacrificial love for His Church gave us the perfect image of the love between husband and wife. Peter and Gwendolyn come here today to give themselves to one another in this holy covenant.”

“I ask you now, in the presence of God and this assembly, to declare your intention to enter into conjugal union with one another through the grace of Jesus Christ.” continued Lewis.

“Do you, Gwendolyn, take Peter as your lawfully wedded husband, to love, comfort, honor, and keep, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” he asked.

“I do.” she answered.

“Do you, Peter, take Gwendolyn as your lawfully wedded wife, to love, comfort, honor, and keep, in sickness and in health, forsaking all others, for as long as you both shall live?” Lewis asked.

“I do.” Peter responded with a nervous smile to his bride.

“Who presents Gwendolyn to be wed to Peter?” the bishop asked.

“Her brother.” Owain said, stepping forward and taking his sister by the hand. He then walked with her the few steps to Peter and placed her hand in Peter’s, stepping back once more.

After Owain stepped back, Ygraine and Grand Duchess Morgan parted from the crowd to join their brother behind Gwendolyn. The Excalbians likewise stepped forward to stand behind Peter. The bishop spoke once more. “The marriage of Peter and Gwendolyn unites their families through an indissoluble bond and creates a new family in them and their progeny. They ask for your blessing.”

“We rejoice in your union and pray God’s blessings upon you.” answered the families.

The bishop then looked past those gathered in the front at the entire assemble. “Will all of you, by the grace of God which makes possible righteous actions, do everything within your power to uphold and to care for this man and this woman in their holy union?”

“We will.” came the response.

At this point, the families returned to their seats in the front. As Owain sat, everyone else was finally able to as well.

“Let us pray.” the bishop began.

“God of all the world, you are the true light illumining everyone. You are the way, the truth, and the light. Your love, which remains constant even when Your servants stray from the flock, is truly without end. You sustain us in the Holy Spirit. We rejoice in You in the midst of our lives. We praise You for Your presence with us and especially in this act of solemn covenant. In Christ’s name we pray. Amen.”

“A reading from the Book of Ecclesiastes.” Lewis announced. “The words of king Lemuel, the prophecy that his mother taught him. What, my son? And what, the son of my womb? And what, the son of my vows? Give not thy strength unto women, nor thy ways to that which destroyeth kings. It is not for kings, O Lemuel, it is not for kings to drink wine; nor for princes strong drink. Lest they drink, and forget the law, and pervert the judgment of any of the afflicted. Give strong drink unto him that is ready to perish, and wine unto those that be of heavy hearts. Let him drink, and forget his poverty, and remember his misery no more. Open thy mouth for the dumb in the cause of all such as are appointed to destruction. Open thy mouth, judge righteously, and plead the cause of the poor and needy. Who can find a virtuous woman? For her price is above all rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her, so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She is like the merchants’ ships; she bringeth her food from afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth meat to her household, and a portion to her maidens. She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vinyard. She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of tapestry; her clothing is silk and purple. Her husband is known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it; and delivereth girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her clothing; and she shall rejoice in time to come. She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household, and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth her. Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all. Favour is deceitful and beauty is vain: but a woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised. Give her of the fruit of her hands; and let her own works praise her in the gates.”

“A reading from the First Letter to the Corinthians.” Lewis said, moving on to the second Scriptural reading. “Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not love, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not love, I am nothing. And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my bidy to be burned, and have not love, it profiteth me nothing. Love suffereth long, and is king; love envieth not; love vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up. Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil; rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in truth; beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things. Love never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away. For we know in part, and we prophesy in part. But that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away. When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. And now abideth faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.”

“Now…” Lewish said “…those are two very different passages. However, they each tell us something very important about the nature of marriage as a part of the divinely ordained order of life. Firstly, we have the righteousness of the couple. The husband is called to judge righteously, to give aid to the poor, to practice temperance, and to restrain himself from temptation. The wife too is called upon to see to the needs of the poor and to offer up her counsels as the law of kindness. And the Bible never uses the word ‘law’ lightly. However, in doing so she must not be neglectful of her own household. The divinely inspired word of God, through His servant Solomon, gives great attention to the duties of family life, so much so as to list a great many of them by name. God’s commandment to the righteous husband and to the righteous wife is clear. To fulfill the duties of husband and wife and, in good time, those of mother and father, but not to forsake the needy and the defenseless for the cause of one’s family but rather to draw strength from a righteous home ordered in a godly manner and from the love shared within the family in doing God’s work, in fulfilling the social responsibilities of the Christian. I do not need to add that, for men and women born into positions such as the bride and groom here today, this is especially important. As Scripture attest, of those to whom much is given, much is expected.”

He smiled as he continued. “However, more important than this is love. It is love which brought together this man and this woman. It is in love that they shall, God willing, bring forth children into the world. It is in love that they shall raise them. In love lies the power which binds the Church together in Christ. In our love for God above all and for our neighbor lies the basis of all law. As the Apostle Paul attests, in the absence of love, every other noble trait ultimately must come to nought.”

“Let us pray.” Lewis said, bowing his head. “Eternal God, creator and preserver of all life, author of salvation, giver of all grace: Bless and sanctify with your Holy Spirit Peter and Gwendolyn, who come now to join in marriage. Grant that they may give their vows to each other in the strength of your steadfast love. Enable them to grow in love and peace with you and with one another all their days, that they may reach out in concern and service to the world; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

“You may now exchange vows.”

Peter turned to Gwendolyn first. “In the name of God, I Peter take you Gwendolyn, to be my wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

“In the name of God, I Gwendolyn take you Peter, to be my husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, until we are parted by death. This is my solemn vow.”

A page then handed a purple cushion bearing the rings to Lewis as he spoke. “These rings are the outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace, signifying to us the union between Jesus Christ and his church. Let us pray: Bless, O Lord, the giving of these rings, that they who wear them may live in your peace and continue in your favor all the days of their life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

The bishop then handed one of the rings to Peter who turned to Gwendolyn. “Gwendolyn, I give you this ring, as a sign of my vow, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.” He slipped it on her finger.

The bishop handed the other ring to Gwendolyn, who slipped it on Peter’s finger as she spoke. “Peter, I give you this ring, as a sign of my vow, and with all that I am, and all that I have, I honor you; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Peter and Gwendolyn…” the bishop began “…you have declared your consent and vow before God and this congregation. May God confirm your covenant and fill you both with grace.

“Now that Peter and Gwendolyn have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands, and the giving and receiving of rings, I announce to you that they are husband and wife; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Those whom God has joined together, let no one put asunder. Amen.”

He then bowed his head in prayer once more. “O God, you have so consecrated the covenant of Christian marriage that in it is represented the covenant between Jesus Christ and his church. Send therefore your blessing upon Nathan and Robyn, that they may surely keep their marriage covenant, and so grow in love and godliness together that their home may be a haven of blessing and a place of peace; through Jesus Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

The entire assembly then prayed aloud. "Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever. Amen."

Smiling brightly, Lewis instructed Peter “You may kiss your bride.”

As the two kissed passionately, the bells rang again and the choir began to sing the recessional.

Irene Daatman plucked away a tear as the bride and the groom kissed. She leant a little closer against Jan Willem Daatman next to her as she grabbed her handkerchief.

Princess Theodora, now changed out of her wedding dress and into a dress in the style in favour of the court of the Principality of Holista, had been struggling to hold back tears since her wedding just a couple of hours before. Her maids had been careful to apply only small amounts of eye make-up, which they had tried to ensure was as colourfast as possible, in anticipation of happy tears rolling down their mistress' cheeks, and Theodora appreciated their efforts as she dabbed away the few tears on her cheeks softly with her handkerchief. Unlike Irene Daatman, however, Theodora hadn't succumbed to the cliché of being moved to tears by Gwendolyn and Peter kissing - in fact she had barely noticed it. She had barely noticed anything at all of Gwendolyn and Peter's wedding, so overwhelmed was she by her own emotions, a potent cocktail of love, happiness, immense relief, sadness, gratitude, unworthiness and jubiliation. She squeezed Brendan's hand for what must have been the twentieth time since they had sat down next to each other in the church, and leaned her head on his shoulder.

The Emperor too, had not been paying much attention to Gwendolyn and Peter's wedding, although being so used to guarding his emotions, he had been substantially more discreet about it than his daughter. He had been stealing glances at Theodora and his new son-in-law together throughout the service, observing Theodora's obvious happiness, and trying to put a finger on the other emotions he detected in her behaviour. To the Emperor, Theodora looked almost like she couldn't believe that she was actually married to the man who rescued her months ago from the horror she had endured in Marlund. Her apparent incredulity and subsequent amazed relief coloured and emphasised Theodora's happiness in her behaviour in a fashion he hadn't seen in his eldest daughter, Anna, on her wedding day. Even more so than he did then, he felt assured that his newly married daughter would be happy in her new life. He was already beginning to miss her, even though she sat just feet away.

For her part, Princess Anna had looked on at Theodora's wedding with sisterly tenderness, and a mild sense of disappointment that she couldn't join her youngest sister Zoë and the other bridesmaids on account of her advanced pregnancy. She had been unable to stop crying throughout most of Theodora's wedding and had only settled down in the brief interval between the first wedding and the next when she had satisfied a sudden craving for a cream bun. She was more subdued throughout Gwendolyn and Peter's wedding, and, unbeknownst to her, paid much closer attention to it than did her newly wed sister or her father - probably because she naturally knew Peter better than the rest of her family did (although her eldest brother and cousin Helen might have disavowed her of that particular illusion). She held Joseph's hand and smiled as the wedding service concluded.

"They're obviously very enthusiastic." she observed to Joseph at a whisper as the bride and groom kissed each other passionately, a mischevious grin on her face.

Princess Irene wasn't with the rest of the Imperial Family. After Theodora and Brendan's wedding, she had given a throwaway excuse in a scornful voice about not wanting to attend a Protestant wedding, which took even the Emperor aback since it was so out of the blue. It wasn't that it was the sort of thing Irene wouldn't say - it was more that everybody would've expected her to give plenty of notice about such a thing. Not really having the time to persist with her, however, she had been left alone back at the palace.

The given excuse was very different from the actual reason, however. Irene hung back in the Imperial Family's quarters in the palace, in the room where the night before she had brushed Theodora's hair while she had twisted and turned her verbal knife, alone, holding the brush as she stared distantly into the mirror. She thought about how cruel she had been to her niece, not just the night before, but for years, and how she'd never get the opportunity again. Tears fell down her cheeks at the realisation. She leaned her head down in her arms on the dresser and started sobbing.

It wasn't that she loved cruelty, per se. It was that she loved Theodora. More than any of her other nieces, or anybody in her life other than perhaps her confessor and lover, Father Michél Guillot, she loved Theodora, and she had only just realised it as she watched Brendan put the ring on Theodora's finger. She was just completely incapable of expressing her love and affection for her niece, and always had been. The realisation had only just come to her and had been a shocking one.

She cried as she wondered whether Theodora would ever come to the same realisation.

Brendan squeezed back, turning to smile lightly at his new wife. He took her in for a long moment. She looked so beautiful today, he could barely believe she'd agreed to marry him. As he turned back to watch Gwendolyn and Peter's wedding, he idly brought Theodora's hand to his lips and kissed it gently. It was the first time he'd ever actually kissed her hand.

As the wedding came to an end, Brendan stood, helping Theodora to her feet. He looked around briefly as they headed out of the church building, speaking to Theodora and her family in a quiet and unobtrusive tone, although not quite a whisper. "This building always seems so bare to me."
...
Marissa and her family, now that they were ready, were escorted to a large room in the palace, where Marissa was slowly joined by the Danaan princesses and grand duchesses who would escort her over to the National Chapel. The ladies milled about as they waited for Gwendolyn, who was changing, and Theodora, who was still with her new husband.

And just as for the previous marriage, the Taraskovyans were standing. Half of them stood because they were of Orthodox faith, and during Orthodox liturgy the faithful stood, with the few potential benches for those too frail and weak to stand. Vethara stood by her brother, wearing a blue dress, the same blue that was the symbol of the country and of her family. Her head and shoulders were covered with a shawl, a hand on her chest to make sure it did not split in parts, as she looked at the ceremony, a smile on her face as she watched the bride and groom.

From time to time she, along with Ambassador Slavosonov and Speaker of Senate Vereslavskiy, did the sign of the holy cross, from right to left, lowering her head a little as she did so. The three realized quite well that they were not in an Orthodox church, yet it was still a Christian one and God was one for all.

The Grand Duke, as well as the Speaker of Duma Nakhart and Colonel of Leib-guards Kiltharan stood alongside their compatriots not because they were Orthodox. In fact, the three were what many would qualify as ‘pagans’, being followers of the Seven Deities, the ancestral Taraskath religion. Yet they could not allow themselves to sit down whilst their countrymen (and woman) stood, not to say that such a split might have been misunderstood by the foreigners, who could have imagined a tension between the two main Taraskovyan faiths.

Mikhail, second by name, bearer of many titles of which just one really mattered, was holding out excellently, taking into consideration the fact that it was already a second wedding in a day he had to assist to. To him, a Taraskath by mentality and follower of the Seven, the very notion of marriage did not exist and so assisting to three of them in a row for him was a challenge. Out of respect for the hosts, and out of his love for his sister, he stood still, watching the service with what appeared to be an interested gaze.

“Isn’t that marvelous?” Vethara whispered to her brother, leaning in a little to him, as her eyes watched the newly weds sharing a kiss.

“It has a certain charm to it, although I admit I yet again, as for the previous ceremony, have the urge to shout ‘Gorko!’ But I doubt they would understand.” Mikhail whispered back quietly, for only Vethara to hear.

The Archduchess smiled and shook her head, recognizing her brother very well. She smiled as the service came to an end, feeling light and joyful, and happy for those that found each other and were prepared to dedicate the rest of their lives to their loved ones.

“One more to go, brother. Will you hold out?” Vethara whispered with a smile to Mikhail.

“Taraskovyans never surrender.” The Grand Duke answered sagely, his sister chuckling and shaking her head again.

Lady Marissa smiled, trying to hide her nervousness as she was joined by the princesses and grand duchesses. Beside her, her sister Elizabeth spoke to her, trying to lighten the mood and help her relax. It was not that she did not want to get married, she wanted that more than anything, but like most brides, this was a big day, and the jitters would not stay away.

She looked over at Gwendolyn, and could not help wondering how she could have gone to her own wedding and now be getting ready to take part in her brother. Marissa knew in her shoes that she would want to be with her new husband. At the same time, she was pleased that Owain’s sisters were to play a part in the wedding, as it made Marissa feel closer to them, and gave them all some common ground.

Looking at her father, she gave him a smile, and was greeted with a matching one in return, followed by a wink, before he turned back to his conversation with his wife, who was looking more nervous than anyone else in the room.

“Are you ready, Issi?” Elizabeth asked, breaking through the future queen’s reverie.

Marissa nodded, looking more confident than she had all morning. “Yes, I’m ready. I’ll feel better once the ceremony is behind me, but I cannot remember a day when I felt happier.”

Elizabeth gave her sister a hug and a quick kiss on her cheek. “Once everyone is finished dressing, it will be time.” She looked about her, at the others present. “Everything is going to be perfect.”

“I know.” Marissa smiled. “I really should congratulate Gwendolyn and Theodora.”

“You can do it after the ceremony.”

Once everyone was ready, the party prepared for their journey to the wedding.

"I'm inclined to say that my sister would agree with you." the Emperor replied wryly to Brendan as the Imperial Family left Covenant Evangelical Methodist Episcopal Church.

"I wouldn't have noticed if it was or wasn't." Theodora told Brendan as she leaned into him as they walked, a contented smile on her face.

"Madame d'Holista, pardon my interruption," started Marie with a playful grin on her face as she addressed her cousin as 'madame' for the first time. "But I believe that all Danaan princesses are expected to accompany His Majesty's bride and her company to the National Chapel."

"Thank you, Marie. I would never have remembered that myself." Theodora replied facetiously. She looked up at Brendan. "Marie's right, I have to go."

***

By the end of Peter and Gwendolyn's wedding, Anna looked thoroughly exhausted, although she wore a smile on her face and was genuinely very happy for Peter. She had serious doubts about how she'd manage the third wedding of the day, doubts which her body language clearly conveyed to such a practised student of it as was her husband Joseph.

Marissa and her ladies finally walked from the marble palace across the marble street to marble chapel. It was still amazing that the entire Old City was carved from the same gigantic piece of the lovely stone.

The guests were already present and already standing in the great room, less decorated than either of the two previous churches but yet more beautiful, filled with the bright rays of the sun reflecting gloriously off the shining floors and walls.

Owain and his lords were waiting for her before the Archbishop. Owain, except for his crown and a gold broach with an emeral inset, was dressed in the pure white used in many Arraran services. He smiled as his soon to be bride was escorted down the hall by her father the duke as "Long Reign the Queen" was played proudly by the orchestra.

The sermon seemed to the High King to be so repetitive that he largely tuned it out. It was more of what he'd already heard twice today and he could hardly think about theology at the moment. He only entertained one thought, that he would spend the rest of his life with the woman at his side. His mind only returned to focus when the Archbishop asked that most important of questions. "Do you, Owain, take this woman, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and protect, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." he answered, his voice almost trembling.

"Do you, Marissa, take this man, to have and to hold, to love, honor, and obey, as long as you both shall live?"

"I do." she said with a grin.

"I now declare you be man and wife. What God has joined, no power on Earth or Heaven may ever tear asunder. You may kiss the bride."

Owain took Marissa in his arms and kissed her passionately, almost fiercely, before linking his arm in hers and walking out of the chapel past the standing guests, down the streets of the Old City and their cheering crowds, to a balcony overlooking the even larger crowd gathered just below the marble walls, numbering in the two or three millions. "I give you..." he proclaimed in a voice carried into almost every home in the country by television and radio and throughout the assembled throng by loudspeaker "...Your Queen!"

"Long live the queen!" the people answered with swelling throats and teary eyes.

Princess Yuko sat in silence through all three Christian weddings, studying the unfamiliar words and rituals with a certain genuine curiosity. Her pretty face was now wearing a pleasant smile, seemingly having recovered from her apparent distress of the previous day.

To the extent that seating was available, the Princess tried to sit next to someone different at every wedding. After all, she was here to meet people. She sat near the Excalbians at the wedding of Brendan and Theodora, near the Tartarans at the wedding of Peter and Gwendolyn, and near the Taraskovyans at the final wedding of Owain and Marissa.

It was thus that she found herself next to Archduchess Vethara as the guests moved to follow the king out to his balcony. As the room cleared as she had a moment to speak, she commented to the Taraskovyan Archduchess, "Archbishop Baba wished me to send his regards to the foremost Orthodox noblewoman in the world today." She smiled slightly at Vethara as she gauged the woman's reactions to her words.

Vethara rested her shawl on her shoulders and reached to the back of her head to pull her hair from beneath the cloth, letting it fall on her back. She smiled to her brother and turned to smile to Yuko in sign of greeting, when the words of the Princess made her stop in her track. Her emerald eyes blinked in confusion at the oriental lady as, still rather stunned, her head turned less than a centimeter to the right in a move to look around her to check who Yuko was talking to. Yet the senses kicked back in immediately, the confusion lasting for mere seconds, and Vethara realized quite well that in the immediate vicinity she was the only Orthodox noblewoman.

“Your words honour me, Your Highness, yet I fear I cannot truly claim the title of foremost Orthodox noblewoman in the world.” Vethara smiled charmingly at the oriental lady as she felt a light nudge to her side coming from her brother. She could already see him smirk, yet did not turn to pay any attention to Mikhail, her eyes still fixing Yuko. “I am grateful to the Archiepiscop for his greeting and would be grateful should Your Highness transmit my best wishes to His Eminence and his flock. May the Most Holy Theotokos watch over them.”

The Excalbian Imperial family had with respectful reverence through Princess Theodora's and Prince Brendan's wedding at the Catholic cathedral. Princess Christiana, her head still a little sensitive from the previous night's libations, found the stately elegance of the liturgy a tad tiresome. Though at least not as bad as that rococo monstrosity that Joseph and Anna had in New Jerusalem, she thought to herself.

Despite her lack of attentiveness, Christiana, like the rest of her family, was pleased to see Theodora happy and obviously in love.

Moving rather quickly to the Evangelical Methodist Episcopal Church, the Imperial Family had taken its place at the front of the church. The Emperor nodded approvingly as Prince Peter and Grand Duchess Gwendolyn exchanged vows. He felt as if a bit of the weight around his heart had been lifted; he had fulfilled his obligation to his late-brother and seen Peter safely into responsible adulthood. The Grand Duchess was good, no-nonsense woman, the Emperor believed, and that was exactly what his somewhat aimless nephew had needed.

Empress Elizabeth, meanwhile, smiled and shed a few tears of joy. Peter had been like one of her own after his parents' death and she was pleased to see him happy at last. She only hoped he and Gwendolyn would be as happy as Joseph and Anna.

As Peter and Gwendolyn kissed, Joseph turned to Anna and returned her smile and squeezed her hand. "Obviously," he whispered. "Reminds me of our wedding. And the honeymoon…"

After the wedding, as everyone filed out for the next one, Prince Joseph gave Princess Anna look of concern. "You are exhausted, my love," he said softly. "I think we should retire to our chambers for a while; I'm sure His Majesty and Lady Marissa will understand."

While Joseph discretely steered Anna back to their quarters, the rest of the Imperial Family continued on to the cathedral for King Owain and Lady Marissa's wedding.

Early in the final wedding of the day, Empress Elizabeth caught the Emperor leaning to one side, looking tired and pale. She reached across and laid a hand on her husband's leg. "Are you alright?" She leaned close to the Emperor and whispered.

"I'm fine," David IV answered, somewhat weakly. "Just remind me never to schedule three formal events on one day." He forced a smile and made himself ignore the burning in his chest.

The newly married Queen Marissa stood beside Owain, slowly beginning to feel like the Marissa of old. Her smile became less nervous looking, and her eyes sparkled with real emotion. She looked out over the crowd that had gathered, unable to really fathom that they were there to congratulate her and Owain, and the other four people who had married that day. She looked over at the High King, her eyes reflecting her love for him, before she turned her attention back to the people below.

She let out a low, inaudible sigh, as the last of her anxiety left her, and there standing on the balcony stood the same woman that Owain had meet all those months ago. She knew that her life would never be the same again, that she would have to watch everything she did to ensure that she brought no disrespect to her husband, herself or her new home.

“This is amazing,” she whispered. Despite having been witness to similar events in Tartarus, it was the first time that the people were gathered there for her. “I love you,” she declared to Owain, as she once more looked at him, smiling.

* * * * *

Empress Gehenna of Tartarus rose from her seat, smiling as she witnessed the formal union of her family to that of High King Owain. She turned to Balion, her eyes meeting his. “I hope that Their Majesties will be very happy together. I have to say that they do seem to be very much in love, or so Marissa tells me.” She smiled, knowing that what happened behind closed doors was not always the same as the public image that was portrayed. “Although, after today, I would have to say that they do look very like a perfect couple.”

As the crowds began to depart from the chapel, following out the happy couple, she took Balion’s arm, and made the slow walk to the exit.

"I love you too." Owain answered quietly.

Morning found Kira perfectly awake and opening the door to greet the Daanan wearing nothing but a grin, with yesterday's outfit, apparently consisting of several more components than were clearly visible the previous night, airing out in bits and pieces spread out all over the room.

The ceremonies seemed mostly the same, and by the end of the third she had stopped paying particular attention to the newlyweds and was wondering why the sermons all hadn't been lumped together into one. She stifled a giggle, knowing such attempts at efficiency were not done even in Weyr, and tried to not fall asleep, because certainly the Christian god would have not taken kindly to it, and she didn't need any more annoyed deities lining up to send her to their versions of life after death reserved for humans. They'd be disappointed according to plenty of Weyreans, but that was up for the theologicians and philosophers in the end, who would probably all agree that she was committing significant heresies by lumping this particular god in charge of these churches with every other deity out there. Granted, Weyr's Krim killed more people through mostly direct intervention than Yahweh so it all worked out, she figured. Krim was mostly benevolent when his prophets' ramblings were not interpreted to signify the time for another crusade, which, she decided, was an interesting similarity between the two. Maybe they were the same one ... she slowly trailed off, without saying a word, her eyes fixed on a particular point just behind the couple.

Kira hoped she didn't look too spaced out by the time it was all over. She was quite sure she hadn't fallen asleep, which would probably have looked quite bad and noticeable for a six-foot-six Weyrean who was the only female there not wearing a dress, apparently.

"I will be happy to transmit your wishes." Yuko said with a light smile. "What did Your Highness think of the ceremonies?"

Nathicana had managed to enjoy the rest of her evening, and the conversations that had ensued – continuing to be amused at Irene’s expense, though she managed to keep it to herself for the most part. She and Mas had both been able to get a good night’s sleep, and the next morning found them up bright and early, dressed appropriately for the weddings; she in a tasteful silken dress in soft pewter, he wearing a dark grey tuxedo with mandarin collar and silk brocade vest that matched her dress.

They took seats near the rear, watching each ceremony quietly, sharing comments on occasion in their native tongue in hushed voices so as not to disturb. Quite beautiful all in all, some things familiar, others different. Nathicana’s face was expressionless through most, though now and then there seemed to be a glimmer of something in her eyes as she thought over memories of the past, and the problems of the present.

For each of the couples, gifts were made of a necklace of pearl and diamond, and matching cufflinks and cravat pin, each set a slightly different design, and not at all garish. A case of assorted Dominion wines, as was tradition, accompanied them, along with her well-wishes.

Before taking her leave, she made arrangements for her intended gift for Owain to be delivered as well, this one to the stables. What seemed ages ago, Gimrunal, a nation that had since disappeared into the ether, had presented her with a most appreciated gift of a mare, one from a unique breed that had been developed over generations. The result of breeding the mare with her Andalusian stallion was what she had delivered for Owain – a beautiful black yearling colt. Having been lovingly raised, he was quite friendly and used to being around people, and had even learned some measure of tolerance for Kostya, the not-so-little wolf cub from Tarasovka.

Granted, he was still too young to be broken for riding, but that was part of the point. She hoped that Owain would take the responsibility for himself. She was placing no little trust in the man to take care of the colt in the way it deserved. Her initial meeting with the new King had convinced her he was deserving of it. Along with the colt, she included the dressage tack she’d had made especially for his use, all in black leather, lightly accented with silver.

He should be in good hands. Owain seems an honorable man. Anyone who cares so much for his people is more likely to take such care with all the things under his guardianship.

Here too, she left her well-wishes before making her departure, having been grateful for the opportunity to meet and greet – in some cases, those she had been looking forward to speaking with for some time, in some people whom she was glad to have met in such a setting to as avoid a less pleasant confrontation. Things had been learned, notes had been made. Where things went from here were anyone’s guess, but then that was usually the way of things.

All in all though, it would be good to be home.