NationStates Jolt Archive

(Done over AIM with The Resurgent Dream)

Her Royal and Imperial Highness, the Grand Duchess Morgan had been increasingly reclusive over the last few weeks. Except for during and immediately after the tragic injury to her sister and cousins during the attack of Biernes, she hadn't sought out much company beyond what was required of her. What freetime she did have was spent reading extensively. When Morgan did speak with others, she was always polite and obliging, but always left them with the impression that they had somehow failed to connect with her, that the conversation had somehow failed to be a true communication.

It was a late Friday afternoon, a little over a week and a half after the tragedy. Their Highnesses, the Princes Basil and Constantine were due to return from Parliament in fairly short order. Morgan had retired to the palace gardens with that part of her correspondence which came from family and intimate personal friends, which even her confidential secretary was rarely allowed to read. There were only five letters meeting this description today and Morgan had already read four of them with relative disinterest when she picked up one from her brother. She opened it and read it swiftly before reading it again more slowly. A thoughtful look crossed her face and she rose from her seat, taking a look around the garden to see if anyone else was around. The only other people in this part of the garden, asides from occasional servants, were Louise de Kainaut and Duchess Marie-Angelique de Votosoros, two extremely high-born girls in their early teens, collecting flowers for their botany assignment. They were on the other side of the courtyard from Morgan, and had curtsied to her politely when they approached but had otherwise not paid any attention to her in their quest for interesting flora.

Morgan headed back inside, still bearing the same thoughtful expression. She drifted around the halls for a period, more active than she'd been in some time. She came across the Princess of Verditania and the Countess of Isakiosopolis on the way. The pair of them were apparently heading in the direction of the gardens. Each stopped in the hall and curtsied to Morgan.

"Your Highness..." they each said, their eyes lowered deferentially.

"Good afternoon, ladies." Morgan said with a small smile. "It is a very nice day outside, isn't it?"

"Yes, madame, it looks lovely." answered Madame de Verditanie.

"Is the Prince out?" Morgan asked politely.

"No, madame, I don't think so." replied the Princess of Verditania. "Are you looking for His Grace?"

"I was just making small talk." Morgan explained.

"Yes, madame." Madame de Verditanie replied apologetically.

"Monsieur de Verditanie is fencing, I believe madame." the Countess offered.

Morgan smiled a little. "Certainly good exercise. My royal brother is rather fond of it as well. His Highness, of course, prefers his fleet of cars."

"Your brother in law, Monsieur le Despote, enjoys fencing as well, madame." Mademoiselle d'Isakiosopolis smiled.

"So His Highness tells me, although I have not had the privilege of forming more than a passing aquaintance with the Despot since I became his sister-in-law. He has been in Lavenrunz mostly." Morgan said.

"Mmm." the Countess smiled and nodded politely. Each lady hoped that they would soon be excused and freed to go on their way.

"Well, I shall see you ladies later." Morgan said after a brief pause.

"Your Highness." each lady said in turn, curtseying again and remaining in that position facing Morgan until she had turned the corner and was out of sight. Then, they both stood up and continued on their way out into the gardens.

Morgan continued her idle meandering for some time until she knew Constantine would be back. Around this time, she headed back for their chambers, hoping he had gone there instead of somewhere else in the Palace. Sure enough, Constantine was there, having changed out of his business suit into court wear, although since he was still in his chambers, he hadn't yet put on his jacket. He rose and smiled when Morgan entered the room.

"Good afternoon." he said.

"Good afternoon." Morgan said. "I need to talk to you about something."

"What's that?" Constantine asked, motioning for Morgan to come join him on the couch.

Morgan sat down next to Constantine on the couch. "You know how I'm nominally a member of the Regency Council in Amory?"

"Yes, of course." Constantine nodded, non-verbally offering to pour her a drink - there was a jug of ice water and a set of glasses on the gilded coffee table in front of them.

Morgan smiled in a non-verbal assent before continuing. "Well, His Majesty apparently feels he has reason to be concerned about how the acting members of the Council are comporting themselves. He wanted to know if I would be willing to go to Victoria for a week or two to sort matters out."

"Do you want to go?" Constantine asked her, pouring her a glass of water and then handing it to her.

Morgan took it, taking a sip. "I think so. Recently, I've felt rather useless. This would be a chance to actually do something productive."

"Then I think you should. When would this be?" Constantine asked.

"In about a week." Morgan answered.

"That's pretty short notice..." Constantine sort of grimaced. "For a week or two, you say?"

"Yes, sir." Morgan said, her smile fading a little.

"Where will we stay?" Constantine asked her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

"Acum Palace would be the natural place." Morgan said, leaning into him. "There's even a secret entrance."

"A secret entrance?" Constantine enquired.

"Well... not exactly. But there is a completely private entrance that can be used to receive people without anyone else knowing they were there." Morgan said.

"Why do you mention that?" Constantine asked, wondering what Morgan had in mind.

"It's just interesting." Morgan said.

"I thought that you might want to sneak in and out." Constantine smiled. "Well, that sounds fine, and the Parliament doesn't sit again for a month, so I won't need to miss a sitting day."

"Would sneaking in and out be useful, do you think?" Morgan asked.

"No, that's why I asked." Constantine explained.

"Do you ever have secret meetings?" Morgan asked.

"What do you mean?" Constantine asked. "Secret meetings of what?"

"Politicians." Morgan said.

"Nothing is ever really secret in politics." Constantine shrugged. "I suppose it depends what you mean by secret meeting though."

"I mean where the fact that the meeting itself was occurring was concealed." Morgan said.

"I don't have any formal secret meetings, no, although I suppose that I have impromptu secret meetings by that definition." Constantine replied. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering." Morgan said.

"I can reschedule almost any meeting." Constantine told her. "It's just very difficult for any member to leave the country while Parliament is sitting because of the margin involved in any vote on which the Constantinople Party crosses the floor. Even my aunt has to make an appearance for votes like that. So don't worry, I'll cancel or reschedule my other meetings, and we can go to Amory. I'll speak to the Emperor about it this evening."

"That wasn't why I was asking about meetings." Morgan explained.

"Why were you asking?" Constantine asked.

"If these Council members are behaving badly, there might be intrigue going on." Morgan said.

"I see." Constantine said.

"I'm sorry. It's my responsibility to deal with them. It'll be like a vacation for you." Morgan said.

"That sounds nice." Constantine smiled. "It will be good to visit your country, don't you think?"

"I think so." Morgan said. "I miss it sometimes."

"It will do you good to get away from here and have something else to think about I think." Constantine told her.

"Has anyone heard anything yet about who might have been behind the attack?" Morgan asked.

"The general consensus seems to be that it was a separatist group, more extreme than the ones which have been dealt with thus far," Constantine began. "But I haven't heard of any hard evidence to support that contention."

Morgan nodded a little. "That seems the most logical explanation but it still doesn't really seem to make sense."

"Well, neither does any separatist group employing any means likely to bring international condemnation, and yet they have consistently done so, in Deasrargle and many other places." Constantine shrugged.

"I wasn't just talking about the international condemnation though." Morgan said. "Why would Deasrargle separatist launch an indiscriminate attack in the capital and largest city of Deasrargle? Wouldn't it make more sense to attack Arra?"

"Not necessarily, especially in this case where the majority of Deasrargleans oppose the separatist cause." Constantine said. "Exhaust those opposed to the republic with the struggle, make it clear to them that while Deasrargle remains a part of Finara, these things will keep happening... It's a tactic others have used in the past."

"What do you think about this new PFO?" Morgan said.

"They seem to undermine both sides." Constantine answered.

"Oh?" Morgan asked.

"Yes, they undermine support for the separatists and the loyalists by acting as a sort of middle ground." Constantine said. "It wouldn't surprise me to see their support go through the roof in the light of these recent attacks."

"And how do you feel about that?" Morgan asked.

"I think it's quite possibly a dangerous group in the long term even though it seems like a preferrable option to the separatists in the short term." Constantine said.

"Why?" Morgan pressed.

"Their long term establishment would entrench a system where Protestants are set in permanent opposition to the Government. At this point that opposition is peaceful, but it's like a political powder keg, awaiting some event which will ignite it and turn the formerly peaceful moderates into violent separatists again." Constantine said.

"So if you were the Taoiseach, what would you do now?" Morgan asked curiously.

"I don't know." Constantine admitted.

Victoria, Amory

Morgan and Constantine flew directly from New Rome to Victoria, although they would be briefly visiting Pantocratorian Ambara on the return trip. Upon arrival, they were greeted by Ken Hallmark, the Mayor of Victoria; the unfortunately named Tab Bagg, the First Minister of Amory; and Charles Blair, the Church of Amory Archbishop of Victoria. All three men served on the Regency Council and, even as she went through the familiar formalities of arrival, Morgan tried to take their measure.

Hallmark was a man in his early fifties with graying hair and a growing belly. He seemed a little uncomfortable standing on ceremony, even with royalty, and seemed disposed to the sort of innocuous small talk that strangers use to pass the time in social situations. At first glance, he appeared to Morgan to be not much more than a mediocre society gentleman not different from dozens of others who had brushed across the edges of Morgan’s social set.

Bagg, a man in his late forties whose hair was just starting to gray, managed to be charismatic and reserved at the same time. He went through the ritual of greeting visiting dignitaries with that special grace that makes the most formal ceremony seem natural and even charming while not deviating even slightly from right and proper behavior. He seemed much more the politician than Hallmark and Morgan could easily imagine him using his charms to win votes in the corridors of Parliament.

Blair was the oldest of the three men and he seemed to be the most rugged. He spoke with a rural accent and the years had given his face a certain cragged look common among old men. He had a generous belly but his arms also still showed a good deal of muscle and his expression remained hard and determined. The ceremony didn’t make him awkward but it still seemed unnatural for him, as if he were impatiently putting up with an annoying formality. While his words were polite, he maintained the same hard expression all the way to the cars.