NationStates Jolt Archive

The remarkable rise of the Commonwealth of Peoples had been a diplomatic development regarded with extreme curiosity inside the Eternal Republic, within both political and academic circles alike. Scholars had struggled in their attempts to accurately categorise and define the unique supranational organisation. In certain ways, the Commonwealth of Peoples (or, at least, its supranational facet – by far the more intriguing) appeared to resemble a mere confederation of independent nation states, each of which regulated her own internal affairs. In other respects, however, it might more correctly have been described as a type of federal union, albeit perhaps both a Danaan-dominated and rather tenuously held together one. Only time could tell for certain which analysis, if indeed either, was to prove closest to reality.

The Xirniumite Government, however, was more predominately concerned with matters of practical immediacy. To Prime Minister Gílda and her Cabinet, the Commonwealth of Peoples was not merely a fascinating foreign constitutional experiment or an intriguing new development in the field intergovernmental cooperation; something to be studied dispassionately for the sake of academic interest. The supranational organisation was, in fact, a potential fellow actor in what had increasingly become a turbulent and unstable international community; an actor with whom Xirnium might need to interact with as an equal. If not, then (at the very least) the rise of the Commonwealth of Peoples required of the Eternal Republic an appropriate adjustment to her foreign policy.

Certainly it appeared that the Commonwealth of Peoples demanded to be regarded as a sovereign entity, and not merely as an international organisation or alliance. Had its constituent members not ceded to the supranational organisation their government’s crucial legislative areas of foreign policy and defence? Had the executive arms of each nation state not surrendered to the Commonwealth Committee their prerogative powers to exchange embassies and accredit the ambassadors of foreign states? However, the successful securing (or failure to do so) of a public perception of legitimacy was regarded by some Xirniumite political analysts as a matter that could be crucial in deciding the future development of the union. Of course, pointed out the various professors of Xirnium’s leading universities, the mere claim of sovereignty never of itself establishes rights in relation to other states; it is the other states that validate that claim through the act of diplomatic recognition, and chiefly through actions rather than words.

The Eternal Republic, for her part, had seemed to have been quick to do exactly this (the Government had, for instance, almost immediately appointed Dr Erzsébet Tëlfinwë as Xirniumite ambassador to the Commonwealth), although whether such had been a prudent course of action to have taken at the time yet remained to be seen. Whereas previously many within the Progressive Government had harboured private desires to see a vast strengthening of diplomatic relations with the Resurgent Dream (a nation thought of in the most affectionate terms by many of the Eternal Republic’s idealistic parliamentarians), some now argued that the future of Xirnium’s relationship with the Danaan High Kingdom lay instead through the young Commonwealth. In any case, the fact was that the Government of Xirnium would soon be making an even more dramatic acknowledgment of the Commonwealth’s unique sovereignty; it would, in fact, be helping to cement the status of the supranational union as a discrete actor in world affairs.

A Xirniumite jet aircraft, sporting the distinctive and impressive, stately looking maroon-coloured paint scheme of the Eternal Republic’s diplomatic air fleet, soared lazily and at great altitude over the darkening storm clouds below. It’s polished fuselage glinting slightly in the feeble blood-red sunlight of the morning, the aeroplane was one of several such indigenously designed and manufactured jumbo jets operated by the Xirniumite government and maintained by Vílyä Air, a charter airline based in the Eternal Republic. Within its luxuriously opulent interior, the aircraft in question conveyed several important personages on their way to the first official Xirniumite state visit of the Commonwealth of Peoples.

The beautiful Lady Zsófia Făvârin-Sevrâthíl was one such personage; although, granted, a minor one. A margravine of the infamous House Vesänyär, Zsófia was of willowy build, tall and slim, with lustrous black hair and a pale complexion that might almost have been described as a sickly pallor. The forty-three year old politician had been elected to the House of Councillors (the Xirniumite Parliament’s upper house) in the late nineties, but had only very recently joined the frontbench; partially due to favouritism shown by the new Foreign Minister. Currently, Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl held the comparatively minor position of Minister of State for Culture and Xirniumite Heritage, but Eléanor had somewhat more ambitious plans in mind for her.

Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl sighed as she closed her antiquely bound book, a detailed genealogical study of several major noble families of the Xirniumite peerage (including her own and that of the Foreign Minister, House Numêsalquó), and peered out of a nearby window. Readjusting her glasses with neurotic obsessiveness, the parliamentarian stood from her expensively upholstered leather seat and moved towards the front of the aircraft.

Ah, the vampire of House Vesänyär… thought Eléanor upon noticing her party colleague, though she chided herself immediately for thinking so. It was, she reflected, an extremely cruel epithet; an unwarranted slur used by those who spread malicious rumours about the margravine, and one that should therefore not be entertained even privately.

And even if the wildest of the rumours are true, it’s certainly none of anyone else’s business, added Eléanor silently.

‘Would you mind if I were to join you, Lady Sabëlinà?’ asked Zsófia with rather stiff formalness. The junior cabinet minister smiled nervously, and in (what she privately hoped) was a most agreeably friendly manner.

‘Oh! Please do, my dear,’ replied the Foreign Minister kindly. Seated alone in the forward lounge (a mass of files and government documents spread across part of the oval mahogany table that took up most of the room’s modest space) Eléanor had apparently been wiling away part of her time with a backlog of tedious administrative paperwork. ‘Tea?’ asked the countess thoughtfully, remembering her refined manners.

‘No, thank you,’ replied Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl, who had come for companionship and not for tea. Sitting down, the margravine cleared her throat and did her best to ignore the smell of smoke from Eléanor’s obscenely overpriced Tadëriowë cigarettes.

‘I’m sorry… you don’t smoke, do you?’ remembered the countess, stubbing out her cigarette in a nearby ashtray. Eléanor’s deathly pale friend seemed slightly uncomfortable, as though attempting to suppress a cough.

‘Oh, please don’t trouble yourself, Lady Sabëlinà…’ spoke the deputy Culture Minister hurriedly.

‘It’s no trouble at all, I assure you,’ replied the Foreign Minister with a warm smile. ‘Just so long as you don’t also object to my choice of music,’ joked Eléanor with an expression that indicated her lack of seriousness.

‘No, no!’ replied Zsófia with a nervous laugh as she re-positioned her glasses. By its lyrics, the margravine recognised the piece currently playing in the background as a lovely serenade from one of Ásgaröth’s most famous late seventeenth century cantatas (as high born members of the Xirniumite aristocracy, both Zsófia and Eléanor were fluently proficient in ancient Xirnian, a dead language that had fallen out of common everyday use as early as the sixteenth century). The passionate and yet forlorn quality of the nocturnal song of courtship in question was unmistakably unique, and therefore something not easily forgotten.

‘This is your first trip abroad in any official governmental capacity, is it not?’ asked Eléanor after a moment’s awkward silence, attempting to make idle conversation with her colleague.

‘Yes, that’s right. Actually, I’ve never been to Laneria at all,’ continued Zsófia, ‘although I have visited the Resurgent Dream several times as a tourist,’ she indicated vaguely.

The Foreign Minister found something about this rather amusing. ‘It is interesting that you mention the Resurgent Dream,’ remarked Eléanor.

‘Yes? I meant… well we aren’t going to the Resurgent Dream, of course. But they are part of the Commonwealth of Peoples, so…’ Zsófia tried to explain before giving up with a shrug. ‘I am sure you know what I mean, Lady Sabëlinà,’ she smiled.

‘I do. We may have been invited to Laneria by the “Commonwealth of Peoples” and not the Danaan High Kingdom,’ noted Eléanor, ‘but make no mistake, Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl. This meeting shall be about the Resurgent Dream; or, rather, matters with respect to diplomatic relations between the Resurgent Dream and Eternal Republic.’

‘So do you agree, then, with the view that this Commonwealth of Peoples amounts in practice to a hegemonic federacy of the Resurgent Dream?’ inquired Zsófia.

‘No, I didn’t say that,’ clarified Eléanor. ‘However, I should remain rather sceptical of the long term viability of this novel experimental arrangement. The way that the Commonwealth has been structured would seem (to me, at least) to simultaneously impose both too great a constraint on the sovereignty of the individual member states, whilst simultaneously failing to provide for an effective supranational executive authority and central government. How would you describe such an entity, Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl? Either an overly burdensome intergovernmental organisation, or else an overly weak confederacy, no? Can such a thing truly last?’ asked the countess rhetorically.

‘Maybe you are overstating things. Despite all of what you have said, and they are good points, the fact is that the member states did reach a consensus,’ pointed out Zsófia. ‘They have willingly given up the right to interact as sovereign nations with other countries and in international affairs.’

‘True… but unlike a federal union, this arrangement endures only so long as there exists continuing active cooperation by each of the member states,’ argued Eléanor. ‘At least, I mean legally. Legally, nothing compels adherence to the unifying compact, the treaties that formed the Commonwealth; as opposed to the case where a constitutional framework mandates the continued existence of different, coordinate levels of government.

‘Politically, of course, we must not underestimate the clout of the Danaan High Kingdom over the other members of the Commonwealth.’

‘But I thought you said that the Commonwealth of Nations would ultimately fail?’ asked the deputy Culture Minister, removing her glasses and cleaning them with a silk handkerchief.

‘I only said that I was sceptical about whether it would succeed. Ultimately, anything is possible. We could even see the emergence of a new national state, one that subsumes the others, but such would require the type of cooperation that the various member countries might prove incapable of. Forging a national identity requires a national direction, and nothing compels such here. Personally I doubt it will happen, although I do think that the Danaan High Kingdom (along with the other large powers - Nabarro Abarca and Laneria) shall continue to dominate the Commonwealth. Either way, we must adapt our methods to suit our goal. The Eternal Republic has long desired closer relations with the Resurgent Dream,’ explained Lady Sabëlinà. ‘This is our opportunity, even if it is not quite the one that we originally invisioned.’

Eléanor checked her elegant, bracelet-style watch and reasoned that several long hours yet remained until their arrival in New Amsterdam. It did not help that their departure from Naèräth International Airport had been delayed due to frost on the runway. The Foreign Minister’s opium addiction, however, refused to wait. Pouring a small amount of pale emerald coloured liquid into an ornate reservoir glass and picking up a delicately engraved, slotted silver spoon, the countess shamelessly set about preparing a new laudanum and absinthe mixture - not even bothering to conceal the vice from her fellow noblewoman.

‘It is telling, I think, that we shall be officially received by two very prominent Danaans in Ms Sacker and Lady Kairis,’ observed Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl, who had the tactfulness to pretended not to notice.

‘Isn’t it?’ agreed Eléanor.

New Amsterdam, Laneria

Devonshire International Airport possessed a rather exclusive runway well away from the ordinary commercial flights and even most private flights. It was often used by some of the most prominent officials and individuals in Laneria and the whole Commonwealth. It was here that diplomatic planes carrying Chiefs of State or Government were normally received. Correspondingly, the immediate area had been thoroughly searched and secured by the United States Secret Service a full day before. The runway had been separated off from the others and staffed with specially trained personnel from the Secret Service and the Office of the Commonwealth Chief of Protocol.

Two hours before the Xirniumite plane landed, a Marine band and a small detail of uniformed Commonwealth Defense Force Marines began to set up on near the runway. After setting up their instruments, the band ran through a quick rehearsal of Hail to thee, Xirnium eternal!. By the time the Commonwealth dignitaries arrived, the Marines were standing at rigid attention.

Only half an hour before the arrival of the Xirniumites, the two Commonwealth Marines standing to either side of the locked gate to the runway unlocked the gate and opened it for a fleet of five black bulletproof limousines bearing, for this occasion, the flags of the Commonwealth, the Resurgent Dream, Xirnium and Laneria. The cars pulled to a halt about a hundred yards from the runway. Uniformed Marines opened the doors of the middle limousine and the dignitaries climbed out. They included Commonwealth Commission President Viscountess Kairis (Minerva Karamanlis), Intergovernmental Council President Sarah Sacker, General Assembly President Carolyn Edwards, Lanerian President Joseph Billington, Commonwealth Secretary for External Affairs Liam Mac Diarmaid, Lanerian Secretary of State Eamon Curren and New Amsterdam Mayor Ian Barr.

Advisors and staffers climbed out of the back of the other cars. They spoke energetically with one another and their principles regarding the impending visit of the Xirniumite officials, Xirnium’s conflict with Allanea, similarities and differences between Xirnium and the Commonwealth and its various members and so on. In this half hour before the arrival of the foreign dignitaries, unobserved by the world, they didn’t hide that they were nervous. The Victoria Conference, while fruitful, had not been especially impressive. The continued threat of Sebben ap Balor and his terrorist supporters was an embarrassment and the situation in the Gulf was not going especially well. The Commonwealth was off to a rocky start and many of her experts attached a great deal of importance to this first meeting with the Xirniumites.

As conversations wore down, staffers drifted back to their cars. The last hurried out of sight ten minutes before the plane touched down. When the plane doors opened, the three Xirniumites were greeted by the sight of the seven Commonwealth dignitaries standing quietly, a small Marine presence standing at attention nearby, a fleet of black limousines a hundred yards back and a band playing their national anthem.

They also got their first experience of New Amsterdam weather. It wouldn't have been fair to call it Lanerian weather. Laneria had a rather impressive diversity of climate, being one only two Commonwealth members to contain both tundra and tropical rainforests. The sky was clear but the air was quite chilly. New Amsterdam was known for fairly cold winters. It seemed to have snowed a few days before and here and there an as of yet unmelted patch remained on the ground.

Arrival at Devonshire International Airport
Official welcoming ceremony with military honours

Running only somewhat later than originally expected, the Xirniumite diplomatic aircraft finally appeared in the cold skies over New Amsterdam; its wing flaps down and airspeed low for final approach. Of course, the Commonwealth’s officials had been thoughtfully notified by Xirniumite staff of the unfourtunate delay and resultant need to depart slightly from their planned schedule; so no one (save, perhaps, for the marine guards) had been left waiting in the cold. Regardless, it was a relief to have at least arrived at their destination before midday.

As landing gear tires made gentle contact with runway tarmac, a slight bump informed the Prime Minister that her aeroplane had at last flawlessly touched down in the United State of Laneria. Lady Gílda and the other members of the Xirniumite suite had gradually gathered before the forward entrance to the aircraft, and they now conversed quietly amongst themselves as they waited for the jet to slowly taxi into position and for the movable staircase to be brought carefully into place.

‘Prime Minister, I’ve had the chance to indicate to the relevant Commonwealth officials your desire that the arrival ceremony be at least partially open to the media,’ explained Flórián Nävríl, the director of the Foreign Ministry’s state diplomatic protocol department. ‘We’ve therefore arranged for the Xirniumite press to disembark first, from the rear entrance, and for you and your diplomatic suite to follow from the main doorway several minutes later, after they have sufficient time to set up. I’m not sure if any local media will be there, however; there seem to have been issues with security.

‘In any case, It should make for a rather nice photograph opportunity, I think.’

‘Good, good. I leave it all in your department’s more than capable hands, Mr Nävríl,’ replied Heather with a brief smile. Although she maintained a perfectly energetic and enthusiastic façade, the Prime Minister privately felt quite weary from the effects of her transatlantic flight; during which she had failed to get any real rest. By contrast, the Foreign Minister seemed remarkably fresh and eager to begin (having been discreetly left alone, by her staff, to opium-induced dreams of emerald dragons).

‘Please instruct the press corps that they are only to take pictures of my more glamorous side, though,’ added the flaxen haired Prime Minister with a wink.

Lady Gílda’s joke elicited several light chuckles from amongst the assembled delegation, diffusing some of the nervousness in the air. Given its status as the first official state visit to be made by the new Prime Minister, most of the politicians present were acutely aware of the symbolic (as well as practical) importance of the occasion.

Eventually, the aircraft’s main cabin door opened and the Prime Minister emerged amidst the flashes of press photography and the rousing brass fanfare of the Xirniumite national anthem. Heather, for one, could never help but feel moved whenever she heard the hauntingly poignant refrains of the immensely popular hymn; even if, in this case, part of the impact was innevitably lost due to the absence of the anthem’s words.

Waving elegantly from the top of the staircase, Heather whispered into her Foreign Minister’s ear, ‘a rather more hospitable welcome than that which you encountered in Allanea, no?’

‘Quite,’ replied Eléanor tersely, before flashed a dazzling smile at her hosts and descending the staircase. To mention that the countess’ Allanean visit was not a memory that she was particularly fond of would be quite an understatement.

The three Xirniumites that comprised the senior element of the diplomatic delegation were all formally attired and well dressed. In addition to the stylish coats that each sported as a ward against the chill of New Amsterdam (although, to be fair, the weather seemed to Heather significantly milder than most parts of Xirnium at this late stage in the year), the ladies wore expertly tailored, sophisticated skirted suits (the Prime Minister’s a light silver-grey, Lady Sabëlinà’s a dark charcoal colour, and Zsófia’s in navy blue) and the most exclusively fashionable, high heeled shoes. Jewellery, although luxurious and quite obviously extremely expensive, was tastefully displayed and not ostentatious.

Certainly Eléanor and Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl, both of whom were members of fabulously wealthy and long-established noble houses, did not need to make any showy pretensions of affluence.

‘It is a great pleasure to finally meet you, Viscountess Kairis,’ remarked the Prime Minister as she politely greeted the first of her hosts. According to Xirniumite custom, Lady Gílda friendlily kissed the Commonwealth Commission President, her radient red lips softly touching both of Minerva’s cold cheeks.

It occurred to Eléanor, at this point in time, that she hadn’t bothered to check if Mr Nävríl had clarified with Commonwealth officials the fact that the Xirniumite delegation would, naturally, seek to greet their hosts in the proper fashion; a manner which some strange foreigners tended to find uncomfortably intimate. Of course, the countess (with some logical justification) presumed that the protocol department should have taken care of all such matters, and reassured herself of this even as her turn came to warmly kiss the Danaan.

‘Prime Minister, a distinct honour,’ smiled Heather as she turned to greet Ms Sacker.

Eléanor’s concerns ultimately proved to be completely unfounded. The Commonwealth officials politely accepted the kisses of the three Xirniumite ladies and returned them with a peck on each cheek of their own. After everyone had finished greeting everyone else, the Commonwealth officials began to lead the way to the parked limousines, and their guests followed deferentially.

The uniformed Marines opened the door to the first of the cars for the three principle Xirniumites, Prime Minister Sacker, Viscountess Kairis and President Edwards. Minerva politely offered Lady Gílda the right to enter first, who smiled her thanks and gingerly stepped through the door.

‘I hope that your trip went well, Prime Minister.’

‘Lovely, actually,’ lied Lady Gílda, briefly flashing a brave smile. In truth, the Prime Minister privately wished for nothing more than to retire to a darkened room; and to sleep of the wearying effects of her jet lag with the help of an appropriate barbiturate sedative.

As soon as the President, the two Secretaries and the Mayor had had the time to climb into another limousine, the small motorcade began to move.

‘After you’ve had a few hours to settle in, we’d like to show you some of the Commonwealth’s main bodies and some of the most historic sites in New Amsterdam. Then we’d like to speak to you on affairs of state, and then give a joint press conference before attending a formal state ball being held in your honour,’ Edwards said.

‘That sounds very nice, I look forward to it,’ nodded the Prime Minister as she summoned the courage to make a further request. ‘I was hoping that, perhaps, I might be given the opportunity to actually address the General Assembly during my visit…’ indicated Heather with an inquiring look.

‘That could very easily be arranged,’ Edwards said with a small smile. ‘Given the small size of the Commonwealth, it would also be possible to meet informally with the members of the Assembly after your speech if you wish.’

‘Yes, I think that I should very much like that,’ replied Lady Gílda as she regarded the President of the General Assembly.

‘It has been customary during most Xirniumite state visits to lay a wreath at the host country’s war memorial,’ interrupted the Foreign Minister; with a rather random contribution, in Heather’s opinion. ‘Could this possibly be arranged as well?’

‘It could, although it requires some consideration,’ Sacker said.

‘Do not worry about it, if we are short on time,’ clarified Heather quickly, flashing an indecipherable sidelong glance at her party colleague.

‘That isn’t the issue,’ Kairis clarified. ‘It’s just not exactly clear what the Commonwealth’s definitive war memorial, or even the definitive war memorial in New Amsterdam, would be.’

Heather smiled understandingly.

‘I’m sure that we can leave the appropriate details up to your own judgement,’ she explained with a small shrug. ‘Please don’t feel overly concerned with the matter, though; Lady Sabëlinà only suggests it as a thoughtful gesture.’

Eléanor smiled her polite agreement with the Prime Minister. She sensed privately that this trip would likely require quite an abundance of polite smiling.

Sacker turned to Edwards, the only Lanerian in the party, with a slightly embarrassed expression. Edwards responded as though she wasn't aware of the slight embarrassment of her Danaan colleagues, smiling politely, as that seemed to her to be the thing to do.

‘The largest war memorial in New Amsterdam is the National Union Memorial, dedicated to soldiers and sailors from New Holland who died in the Lanerian Civil War. While other Commonwealth members weren't involved and half-Laneria was on the other side, I think the spirit of unity and emancipation which that monument represents is certainly one which we in the Commonwealth all strive to emulate.’

Lady Favârin-Sevrâthíl cleared her throat nervously. ‘And paying homage to a monument, commemorating the war dead of one particular side in bitter conflict that saw Laneria torn in half would not be seen as at all contentious, Ms Edwards?’ asked Zsófia with the raising of a slender eyebrow.

‘I don’t think so,’ Edwards said.

‘I wouldn’t expect it to be more contentious than visiting a monument to the constitutional troops in the Danaan Civil War, or a monument to the Loyalist forces during Marlund’s 1916 fascist revolution," Sacker added.

‘Or to the War of 1624…’ offered Eléanor by way of comparison.

Zsófia continued to remain suspicious of the proposal, but kept her misgivings to herself.

‘I’m sure the National Union Memorial will make a fine choice,’ decided Gílda.

‘I’m glad that’s settled then,’ Edwards said.

‘You briefly mentioned earlier that there were matters of state that you wished to discuss, Viscountess Kairis,’ continued Eléanor brightly, attempting to wrench the direction of the discussion away towards what would hopefully prove more productive pastures. ‘Pray elaborate.’

‘Please, Minerva,’ Kairis said with a small smile, trying to diffuse the awkwardness which seemed to have so far characterised the conversation.

‘At any event, I’m sure that Xirnium must have noted the large, some might even say dominant, role that huge alliances of extremist and totalitarian states, some united on almost arbitrary grounds, are coming to play in international politics?’

‘Minerva,’ breathed Lady Sabëlinà with a friendly nod, although she could not shake a feeling of awkwardness at addressing the Commonwealth Commission President (a lady whom she had only just met) in the familiar. ‘Yes we have noticed that, and it’s rather a worrying phenomenon,’ continued Eléanor with a frown. ‘If I might venture to add, it appears as though we are now living through a period that has seen the unwelcome resurgence of ideology as the major source of contention between nation states; to quite a disturbing extent not seen since the thirties. Rationalism and practicality have been abandoned by so many governments… an alarming development, I am sure you will agree.’

‘Rationalism is an ideology itself, isn’t it?’ Edwards pointed out.

‘I was really speaking more about the international controversies caused chiefly by divisions in political and economic philosophies,’ clarified Eléanor with a kind smile.

‘But I think what Carolyn was trying to point out,’ Sacker said, ‘is that part of the problem might be that religious and political fanatics have largely been allowed a monopoly of moral language in international discourse. For example, in the name of “freedom”, the United States of Allanea and terrorist organisations harboured by that nation commit war crimes of every sort, including the intentional targeting of civilian and political leaders, the cold-blooded murder of prisoners and unarmed civilians in captured territories, and the use of child soldiers to name just a few of the worse offences.

‘The civilised nations of the world don't oppose this behaviour because it is impractical or unreasonable or an overreaction to some grievance, although it is all of those things. Civilised people oppose the actions of the Allanean government because they find them morally repugnant; even, if you will forgive a word I hesitate to use publicly, “evil”. And yet, somehow, in international discussions, Allanea often manages to come across as the overzealous idealist; and the responsible nations of the world come across as, at best, worldly.

‘I know I am overstating the problem somewhat, but it does seem to me that the democratic West, the countries of the Commonwealth included, has been unable or unwilling to answer to the propaganda initiatives of totalitarian states.’

Heather and her deputy Culture Minister exchanged meaningful glances at the mention of the United States. Lady Sabëlinà had never shrunk from denouncing Allanea as little more than a barbarian hovel whenever the topic had come up in private, and the Prime Minister earnestly hoped that she might exercise more refined restraint here. The Foreign Minister did not disappoint her.

‘It is quite an infuriating state of affairs, I completely agree. I think, however, that such is a battle where the odds are already substantially stacked against us, Prime Minister,’ indicated the countess.

‘Allanea,’ continued Eléanor with an expressive flash in her lovely brown eyes that betrayed pure loathing at the very term, ‘projects herself as an heroically idealistic nation only because she rigidly adheres to a childishly simplistic ideology. Allanea is a grim caricature of a nation, a place where a philosophy so inflexibly unworkable in the real world has actually come to dominate mainstream legal theory. Instead of “heroic”, I should prefer to call Allanea’s obstinacy as cowardly, for it takes courage to compromise.’

‘I call it hypocrisy. While Allanea rants and raves about Finaran regulations on home schooling as though it were speaking of human sacrifices, it allies itself with states whose championship of individual liberty is largely restricted to the fact that, as of 2005, they no longer consider being Jewish a criminally prosecutable offence,’ Kairis said, drawing an amused smile from the Xirniumites.

‘And from thence, I think, is laid bare the truth of the matter. For, with the greatest respect, I must argue that my esteemed colleague is wrong,’ explained Heather, smiling friendlily at the Foreign Minister. ‘Allanea is not idealistic at all, she does not even rigidly apply the standards of her own twisted worldview to herself. She merely projects such a façade. The Allanean government shamelessly violates her own principles, silly though they be, in the pursuit of her foreign policy goals. Thus, for example, does it restrict the sale of weaponry to Amestria whilst arming bloody dictatorships. Thus does it ruthlessly eliminate expenditure on social welfare whilst grossly overspending on its bloated armed forces.’

‘And Allanea's use of anarcholibertarianism is paralleled by the use of religion by most of the other Greater Prussian powers as well as the Reich,’ Sacker added.

‘I fear that such nations will never really have great difficulty in recruiting individuals to their cause; so long as they continue to profess loyalty to simplistic belief systems that, for whatever psychological reasons, hold such great attraction for so many,’ opined the Foreign Minister. ‘You mentioned, Minerva, that the geo-political landscape is being increasingly dominated by ideological blocs comprised of members that, in reality, have little truly in common.

‘It is a sad state of affairs when even entire nation states are swayed by the same empty propaganda which is aimed at uneducated masses.’

‘It is,’ Minerva confessed. ‘Conventionally, the way to fight that sort of empty propaganda would be education and social programs to remove both the desperation and the narrow-mindedness which provide a recruiting ground for fanatics. But, for some reason which is beyond me, educated people with no cause for desperation seem to find something appealing in this sort of insanity.’

‘The problem might lie in the fact that the West inadequately appreciates the risk posed by states like Allanea,’ offered Zsófia. ‘The simple fact is that Allanean philosophy, with its black and white worldview, is utterly unable to stomach the mere thought of co-existence with differently-minded ideologies.’

‘Engagement is not possible with nations that dispute your very right to exist,’ agreed Eléanor with a nod.

‘I think you’re all overestimating the complexity of our answers to Allanean atrocities,’ Carolyn said.

‘Surely it is perfectly simple, as well as compelling, to say that torture, repression, war crimes, the use of child soldiers, human trafficking, drug smuggling and dealing arms to murderers of every description is wrong." Sarah argued.

‘It is simple and compelling, certainly. But is it meaningful? One cannot build a foreign policy based merely on notions of right and wrong, else we should be forever crusading to distant lands in order to stamp out injustice,’ argued Heather.

‘And so we seem to have come to the only attractive alternative… strong, multilateral leadership by the rational nations of the Western world,’ pronounced the countess with a smile.

‘So it would seem,’ Sacker said. ‘Although, I can’t deny I’ve read a few reports regarding Infinite Loving or Iraqstan which gave the option Prime Minister Gilda mentioned a certain primordial appeal.’

‘The world is a cruel, wretched place, Prime Minister,’ explained Eléanor. ‘Nations such as ours are beacons of light besieged on all sides by an ocean of endless darkness. One must look to the welfare of one’s own, lest one drown in the effort to save others, a victim of one’s overeager compassion.’

‘My colleague brims with sympathy for the downtrodden,’ noted Heather with a sarcastic smile. Zsófia, for her part, found the melodramatically bleak and gloomy imagery ridiculous; but maintained a straight face.

‘Please, Sarah,’ Sacker said with a small smile. ‘And I believe that if I had always followed that advice there might not be a Commonwealth, and some of our member states would still be...’

‘Hellholes,’ Edwards interjected bluntly.

‘You speak as if the favourable nature of this development is completely unquestionable. But I wonder whether the Resurgent Dream would now be better or worse off in alternative circumstances?’ asked Eléanor cryptically, although she regretted her choice of almost words immediately. ‘Pray excuse me, that was dreadfully presumptuous,’ she added automatically, mostly for Ms Edwards.

‘Unlike the Foreign Minister, I would say that one stands to enrich, rather than hinder, one’s self by the act of assisting others,’ added Zsófia.

‘We place such strong an emphasis on the social importance of communitarianism within Xirniumite legal theory,’ mused Heather. ‘Why could not such fundamental assumptions also be applied beyond the borders to the Eternal Republic, as a principal of internationalism?’ she asked rhetorically, agreeing with Făvârin-Sevrâthíl.

The countess thought it best if she kept her own views on this matter to her self.

‘I believe democracy and human rights promotion would need to play some part in the activities of any multilateral Western organisation." Carolyn said, and her cursory mention of an international organisation was not overlooked by the attentive Xirniumites. ‘However, this does not necessarily entail any form of military adventurism. It certainly doesn't entail a return to the days when internally normal liberal democracies launched almost random wars whenever a minor deviation from their principles was brought to their attention.’

‘Hmm, but you attempt to provide support for a general principal against military adventurism by citing specific (some might even say extreme) examples,’ pointed out Lady Sabëlinà. ‘I would go further. I would say that violence is rarely useful and never to be preferred, certainly not for such idealistic concerns as merely promoting human rights and democracy. The benefits do not justify the costs.’

‘The costs to whom?’ Sarah asked.

________________________
Done collaboratively with the Resurgent Dream

"This is all a bit abstract." Minerva noted. "It is a fine thing to speak of an ideal world situation but such a situation is reached by a long series of small steps. Perhaps it might be better to discuss issues of immediate importance?"

‘Oh, it’s always better to discuss issues of immediate importance,’ agreed Eléanor quickly, almost before the viscountess had finished speaking. This engendered a small, irrepressible frown of disapproval from the Prime Minister.

Zsófia cleared her throat compulsively as she pushed her spectacles further up the bridge of her nose.

‘Are you referring, Vi- Minerva, to the dilemma of how, in practice, the West should deal with the ever increasing multitude of extremist and totalitarian nation states?’ asked a puzzled Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl, having automatically corrected herself. With nervous, black shining eyes, the noblewoman peered attentively at the Danaan from behind her glasses. The faint, rosy blush that now suffused her fair cheeks seemed only to even more starkly emphasise Zsófia’s unnatural, sickly paleness.

Kairis frowned ever so slightly, although it wasn’t exactly clear who or what prompted it. “Among other things, Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl. I am especially concerned with Greater Prussia’s increasingly aggressive stance towards Pantocratoria over the extradition of Dr. Graves and Allanea’s continuing position as the largest state sponsor of terrorism in the world, the situation in Kaitan-Leagran. Of course, I’m also quite interesting in discussion the relations between the Commonwealth and the Eternal Republic.”

“Perhaps we can discuss the more immediate matter of your itinerary as we’ll be arriving at Lane House, where you’ll be staying, in a few moments.” Sacker said. “You’ve expressed the desire to lay a wreath at the National Union Memorial and to address the General Assembly. We can give you an hour to settle in and then we’ll have lunch. It will be the three of us along with President Billington and Mayor Barr, their wives, Viscountess Kairis’s husband, the Goveror of New Holland and his wife, the United States Secretary of State and the Commonwealth Secretary for External Affairs. We can arrange for just about anyone else you want to be there as well. After lunch, we can have the wreath laying as well as a tour of New Amsterdam. Then we’d like to have a longer, more substantive private discussion on various issues, particularly regarding the gradual creation of a multilateral framework involving the Western democracies and regarding the immediate problems with Greater Prussia and the Reich. After that, Viscountess Kairis would like to have a joint press conference with the Prime Minister. We’ll then be having dinner with a selection of backbenchers from both the Government and the Opposition parties of the various member states in accordance with our general policy of trying to familiarize lawmakers at all levels with our international friends and our foreign policy. After dinner, we’ll retire for the night. That’s everything planned for today. I hope you find it satisfactory?”

A few minutes later, the small caravan of cars pulled to a stop. A young man dressed in dark suit opened the door for the dignitaries and Kairis gestured for her guests to climb out first. The Commonwealthers followed the Xirniumites out of the car. The path from the car to the house was marked off and guarded by security officers. A small crowd had gathered to see the dignitaries, some of them cheering or snapping photographs. Sacker smiled warmly and waved at the people. Kairis gave a small smile, lifting one hand in a light wave. Edwards waved first to the right and then to the left. The crowd cheered more as the dignitaries proceeded to the house.

What was now known as Lane House, the official guest house of the President of the Commonwealth Commission, had originally been a row of five elegant townhouses. The center house had been owned by the famous 17th century journalist, Samuel Lane. The house had been purchased by the City of New Amsterdam in 1961 and then donated to the Commonwealth in 2006. The Commonwealth had then, for reasons of security and comfort, purchased the four surrounding houses and converted the entire row into a single, secure, luxurious guest house for visiting foreign chiefs of state and government and other important dignitaries.

The Commonwealth dignitaries, including the Lanerian President even though he had ridden in a different car this time, walked with their guests up to the finely carved wooden door of the original Lane House and into the elegantly furnished anteroom decorated with a large painting of the Head of the Commonwealth and slightly smaller paintings of other important people from the history of the Commonwealth and its member states. “I suppose we should leave you to get settled in.” Edwards said. “I’m sure the staff will see to everything you need. We’ll see you for lunch?”

The margravine smiled somewhat as she held her delicate spectacles between attenuated fingers and fastidiously rubbed their lenses with a fine, cambric handkerchief. As was her wont, the glasses that Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl donned were an elegant pair of golden pince-nez, a length of black silk cord dangling from their end.

‘Pray call me Zsófia, madam, as all of my friends and colleagues do,’ the noblewoman interjected as soon as politeness allowed her to do so, reacting to the viscountess’ stiff manner of address. The affected, sing-song cadence that she usually employed seemed slightly more pronounced than usual, and her cheeks seemed to have coloured even further. ‘Let us not trouble ourselves with such awkward formality.’

With Zsófia’s glasses for a moment temporarily removed, the slightly owlish look about her seemed to vanish entirely; and indeed, some might well have thought her quite attractive. Of particular appeal was the strangeness of her elegiac eyes, which were ash-grey and smoky. Due perhaps to Zsófia’s myopic condition, they seemed listless and jaded, almost as if attempting to convey an expression of resigned boredom.

‘Of course, our colleague speaks for us as well,’ indicated the Prime Minister with a polite smile. ‘Formality simply will not do between friends,’ she added with what she hoped was a winning grin.

Heather’s Foreign Minister merely smiled (perhaps a little woodenly) in agreement.

For Eléanor, who was seated beside the margravine, Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl represented something of an enigma. Although both women were of the aristocracy, Eléanor had rarely encountered Zsófia within the exclusive and dissolute world of the beau monde – that frivolous society of balls and gala dinners, sumptuous salons and drawing rooms. Certainly it had seemed to her that Zsófia belonged to none of the fashionable circles amongst whose number Lady Sabëlinà counted her many friends and close connections. Indeed, before Zsófia had been made a minister of the Government, Eléanor had never really paid any particular attention to her at all, and had seldom called in at her lonely residence in Castle Ceúressëa.

Now, however, with Zsófia so close to her that the countess’ nostrils flared at the intriguing scent she wore (a confused suggestion of cinnamon, barely perceptible amongst the perfume’s other components), Eléanor silently admitted that she found herself quite fascinated by this mysterious lady.

‘Did you hear what I asked you, Eléanor?’ whispered the Prime Minister, the slightest hint of annoyance apparent in her voice.

‘Of course I did,’ replied the Foreign Minister indifferently, in equally hushed a tone. ‘I spoke with Elfriéde at length about this silly extradition affair. It seems the Pantocratorian diplomatic corps is abuzz with activity,’ she summarised.

It did not seem, however, that Eléanor would be given an opportunity to voice her own disgust at the actions of the Greater Prussian nations (and of Allanea particularly), for Sara soon changed the subject.

‘That’s everything planned for today. I hope you find it satisfactory?’ concluded the Danaan.

Heather smiled at Ms Sacker.

‘I’m sure that’s all quite acceptable…’ Lady Gílda indicated, although her heart sank at the thought of a mere hour’s rest in which she would need to recover from her flight. Heather also felt that such minutiae as her trip’s itinerary would have been better left for the relevant protocol departments to work out, and found herself wishing that Mr Nävríl were here to handle the details.

‘I don’t think that there’s anyone else that we-’

‘Erzsébet…’ whispered Lady Sabëlinà.

‘Oh yes, of course!’ remembered Heather. ‘I have been given to understand that the Xirniumite mission to the Commonwealth will be meeting with us today,’ Lady Gílda explained, for the benefit of the Dannans. ‘It would please me immensely if arrangements were to be made so that the ambassador and her partner might attend our lunch as well.’

Having finally reached their destination, the Xirniumites gingerly stepped out of the limousine and onto the footpath. Heather, always the consummate politician, gave the assembled crowd that same practiced wave which she had so elegantly performed upon first disembarking from the charter aircraft at Devonshire airport. Eléanor, who seemed entirely within her element and completely at ease, merely smiled glamorously and raised a slender, gloved hand in order to give the refined wave of a Xirniumite society lady. Zsófia, not wishing to stand out from her colleagues, conceded a nervous little wave to no one in particular.

‘We’ll see you for lunch?’ asked Ms Edwards after they had finally entered Lane House.

‘At lunch, then, I look forward to it!’ replied Heather as she friendlily pressed the lady’s hand.

‘See you soon,’ added Eléanor with a kind smile.

The two groups exchanged kisses and then the Danaans took their leave.

Over the next hour, the Xirniumites were indeed able to make themselves quite comfortable. While Lane House was fully staffed and secured, the guests were largely left alone unless they requested something. The house was decorated in an elegant, Victorian style and even contained a small library stocked with what the Commonwealth and its members considered to be their most important books and documents. Even the piano in one of the sitting rooms had a skirt around its legs for the sake of 'modesty.' However, all the modern amenities were also present. The dignitaries, should they have occasion, had access to wireless internet, satellite television, secure telephone lines, a sauna, a hottub and even a small modern gymnasium. If they desired anything else within reason, it was provided quickly.

Each of the three ministers had her own stateroom with a large four poster bed. Those staffers who stayed with them were provided with somewhat less well decorated rooms furnished with twin beds. Of course, other staffers were provided with private hotel accomodations at the Commonwealth's expense.

‘So how do you think that went?’ asked Heather of her ministers, as soon as the three were alone in one of Lane House’s sitting rooms.

‘The Danaans seemed rather nice,’ noted the countess with an indifferent shrug of her shoulders, sitting lightly in a luxurious armchair and lighting an opium-laced cigarette. Curious blue wisps of smoke began to rise up from its end, curling and twisting in whimsical swirls.

‘They all seemed really nice,’ mused Zsófia, with that fixed and dreamy expression that told Heather that her minister’s mind was preoccupied elsewhere. ‘All so dreadfully courteous and polite,’ she added.

‘Of course, a single, brief conversation in a motor vehicle is hardly sufficient for the judging of character…’ explained the Prime Minister.

‘Mmm…’ replied Eléanor noncommittally.

‘Even so, I thought that we made rather a fine impression on our hosts, don’t you?’ asked Heather.

‘Yes,’ agreed Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl.

The noblewoman, distracted with her own thoughts, slowly ran her pale, long fingers over the ivory keys of the room’s piano. Pausing thoughtfully, she timidly struck the G note twice, then shook her lovely head. Eléanor watched this bizarre spectacle with fascinated attention.

‘Well if none of you feel like talking then I shall leave you two alone,’ announced the Prime Minister, perhaps a little sulkily. She stood and formulated a vague intention to find her principal private secretary.

"So how do you think that went?" Sarah Sacker asked as she returned to the car with Edwards and Kairis. "You've done this many more times than I have, Minerva."

Kairis frowned ever so slightly. "I think that the Xirniumites might have felt themselves a little too crowded. I also think it might have been tactless to put President Billington in one of the other cars, especially given Lanerian ambiguity about their Commonwealth commitments. It can't be helpful."

"Perhaps they should have just ridden with you, Your Excellency." Edwards said. "That way it would have been clear the Prime Minister and her guests were guests of the Commonwealth rather than Laneria but the President wouldn't have felt slighted for Sarah."

"We don't even know if it was a protocolary issue for the Lanerians or not. Their protocol aides didn't object to the arrangements." Sacker said.

Dreamily humming some indistinct sonata, Zsófia glided blithely into her guest stateroom - a little whirlwind of activity. The noblewoman paced to and fro with restless liveliness, her thoughts apparently miles away from those matters that concern heaven above or the earth below. Zsófia gave a sigh and removed a small box of delectable handmade sweets from her bag, helping herself guiltily to a chocolate fondant. Almost as an afterthought, the Xirniumite also produced from her luggage a splendid bottle of spiced hippocras wine, decadently flavoured with grains of paradise, ginger, and cinnamon.

From time to time, Zsófia would remove an elegant outfit or fashionable article of clothing from her travelling suitcases, laying them all out carefully on her four poster bed. Wineglass in hand, the Xirniumite appraised them with a critical eye.

‘Now, what shall we wear to lunch, Zsófia?’

The clock struck the hour, and Zsófia was obliged to reluctantly shake off her reverie with a small sigh. In the end, she dressed with the modest professionalism that was her wont - wearing an expensive, well-cut coat and skirt and luxurious furs. Placing herself before the splendid, full-length looking glass with which her guest room had been furnished, Zsófia studied herself attentively. A few small touches with a brush and she had put her hair to rights, with just the slightest, fashionable touch of graceful negligence.

With earnest and unsympathetic scrutiny, the noblewoman critically examined the length of her nose, the shape of her neck, the colour of her hair. The Xirniumite peered so closely at her silver-grey eyes and long, curved lashes that her pince-nez tapped clumsily against the mirror’s polished surface.

‘Lady Zsófia Varyä Făvârin-Sevrâthíl, Minister of State at the Office of Culture and Xirniumite Heritage,’ she told her reflection with pride that she did not share, and smiled. Glancing briefly around the empty room, the noblewoman drew close to the mirror and furtively kissed the image of her scarlet lips.

‘You’re the most beautiful woman in the world, darling me,’ declared the reflection in Zsófia’s imagination.

‘Although maybe my skin is a little anaemic, mayhap a shade too pale. They call me a vampire,’ pointed out Zsófia.

‘Who does?’ asked the reflection.

‘People do. Colleagues, subordinates. They whisper in dark shadows and think that I can’t hear them,’ complained Zsófia with a sigh, a heartbreaking look of anguish in her eyes. ‘I suppose I’ve always been pallid, ever since I was a child,’ she conceded.

‘Nonsense, not at all. Your complexion is just right, archetypically Xirniumite. I really can’t imagine why those mean fools call you sickly. Yes, awfully beautiful in every department.’

‘Do you really think so?’ asked Zsófia doubtfully.

‘Oh yes! You’re lovely, exquisite. Frightfully elegant,’ her reflection reassured her.

‘Yes, you’re absolutely right. And, and... I’ve got a gorgeous figure,’ she added. ‘My eyes are flecked with silver, have you noticed?’

‘Yes, but perhaps a stylish ribboned monocle would better complement your incisive features,’ suggested the reflection.

‘I’m not sure about that… women don’t usually wear monocles, do they?’ pointed out Zsófia.

‘Galiéndriel did.’

‘Anyway, one glance at me turning up one morning, inexplicably wearing a monocle and everyone would laugh.’

‘You can wear it for your own, your private pleasure, darling me,’ she imagined her reflection proposing.

‘And then I can be a Victorian detective, with a silk top hat and ebony walking stick. And you can be my lovely assistant, mysterious and beautiful. And together you and I can solve needlessly elaborate crimes in nineteenth century London.’

‘It was a dark and stormy night…’ began the reflection, banteringly.

‘You know, I think Eléanor uses cocaine when bored,’ gossiped Zsófia, her affected tone of voice now that of a Victorian puritan.

‘Scandalous!’ replied her reflection, adopting the same pretended tone of moral outrage.

There was an uncertain knock at the door and Zsófia snapped around quickly, a startled look on her face - like a water nymph surprised whilst bathing in some secret pool. Her foolish prattling stopped instantly, her silly daydream was immediately forgotten. Zsófia was once again the consummate politician.

‘Excuse me, Minister?’ asked a deferential voice. The civil servant had lingered nervously outside the stateroom, in the hope that his superior would eventually fall silent before he ventured a knock. However, he could scarcely wait forever, lest someone found him loitering outside the minister’s guest room. The brief pause in Zsófia’s endless, mindless chatter had not been substantial, but it was certainly better than interrupting her in mid sentence.

‘Carmélide, yes,’ answered Zsófia calmly from behind the heavy door. How stupid to talk to one’s self, what mindless drivel she had spoken!

‘I’m sorry, Minister... am I disturbing you?’ asked the secretary tentatively.

‘No, not at all! Just one moment!’ she called out, ridiculously casting a silent look of apology at the mirror before moving gravely towards the door, all traces of childish absurdity completely expurgated.

Entrance to the Grand Hall of 10 Sampson Place was organized according to stricter formal precedence than that which prevailed during the car ride. Mayor Barr and his wife, Susan, entered first. He was followed by Governor Eliot Soule and his wife, Silda. The Xirniumite ambassador and her partner entered next, followed by Carolyn Edwards. Next came the Lanerian Secretary of State, Lewis Bradford, and his wife, Elizabeth. The Secretary of State was followed by the Commonwealth Secretary for External Affairs, Liam Mac Diarmaid. Mac Diarmaid was followed by Lady Făvârin-Sevrâthíl and then by Lady Sabëlinà. Prime Minister Sacker entered next, followed by Colonel Karamanlis and Viscountess Kairis and then Prime Minister Gilda. President and Mrs. Billington entered last. The Xirniumite staff would likely have picked up that the rather formal arrangements were the result of the last minute insistence of the Lanerian President, who had felt that Laneria had been slighted by the protocol followed during the car ride.

For the most part, the Xirniumites reacted with rather a blasé attitude to President Billington’s insisted changes in official procedure.

‘It exposes rather compellingly the facile unity of the Commonwealth of Peoples,’ remarked one junior bureaucrat, an assistant secretary of the diplomatic protocol department, to his Danaan counterpart. Evidently the Xirniumite civil servant was more than somewhat sceptical of the long term viability of the Danaan High Kingdom’s latest supragovernmental experiment.

‘The Commonwealth would like to be taken seriously on the world stage,’ he continued, ‘to be regarded as a sovereign member of the comity of nations; a discrete actor in international relations, as it were. The Prime Minister, in gracing the Commonwealth with a state visit, has indicated, I think, the Eternal Republic’s profound willingness to accommodate this desire. In our global village, after all, sovereign legitimacy is a product of the reciprocated recognition of other nation states.

‘These Lanerian protocol changes do nothing to promote an image of the Commonwealth as a legitimate supranational polity. Instead, the Commonwealth risks being perceived as little more than another intergovernmental alliance; a mere association of disparate countries in the form of an another international organisation amongst many. You’ve endeavoured to achieve so much more.’

As she sat down gracefully at the table, Eléanor cast her eyes carefully over the various individuals who had gathered for luncheon, attempting as best one might to divine character from physiognomy. Strikingly beautifully, the tresses of the noblewoman’s long, auburn hair descended in a profusion of ringlets to her waist. Eléanor smiled disarmingly at the individual seated next to her, politely pulling off her fragrant gloves, which were scented elegantly with frangipani. An accomplished society lady, the countess had no difficulty at all in affecting a flawless look of attentive interest, appropriate for occassions such as these.

‘Bon appetite, bonne conscience,’ spoke Eléanor as the meal was finally served, in a tone of unexampled loveliness.

Heather, the countess observed, seemed in very high spirits; although precisely whether or not her brief respite had genuinely revitalised the Prime Minister was unclear. A model guest, Heather was cheerful and affable, friendlily exchanging pleasantries with the others at the table. Showing apparently unfeigned interest in the Xirniumite ambassador, Lady Gílda inquired thoughtfully about Erzsébet’s son, who as it happened had only recently turned twelve.

‘When last I saw Laúrentius he was just a baby,’ smiled the Prime Minister.

Zsófia, pale as a wraith and a notoriously fussy eater, chatted sparingly and barely touched her food at all during luncheon. Her smiles were of sterling shyness, and when she occassionally, nervously talked the margravine had the strangest look in her smoky grey eyes, at once both mirthful and anxious. Zsófia compulsively folded a linen napkin, trying her utmost not to seem uncomfortable or bored.

The words of the nameless Xirniumite bureaucrat to his equally nameless Danaan counterpart received no immediate response. Of course, they weren't literally nameless. The Danaan's name was Geeraard Cadmus. But they were quite unimportant and Geeraard Cadmus is not a name one would expect ever to hear again. He would vanish into the great mass of petty bureaucrats never to be seen again. The conversation he had with the Xirniumite was to have something of a snowball effect with repercussions beyond reason. But it received no immediate response. Cadmus simply seemed bemused and annoyed as if the man was talking utter non-sense and withdrew from the conversation at the first opportunity.

The lunch went ahead as planned. It was, of course, mostly just small talk. Assuming that such a refined North European would be interested, Elizabeth Bradford mentioned to Zsófia "You know, Lewis and I are going to the Sumardargurinn Fyrsti in Thule this year. It's an ancient Thulian celebration of the first day of summer. Is there anything similar in Xirnium?"

"Thulian culture is fascinating." Kairis added with a small smile. "Next to the Inuit and Vasconian Indian cultures and the culture of the Melians, it is the oldest continuous cultural tradition in the Empire."

Dr. Kathleen Billington smiled at the cheerful Heather. "We're very glad to be receiving you here, Prime Minister. My husband and I have always considered the Xirniumite people to be natural friends, even if contact has been sparse in the past."

Konstantinos Karamanlis turned his attention to Eleanor. "They have one of the best chefs in the Commonwealth here. He's from Selinia originally. The soup, especially, is wonderful."

Zsófia pushed her starched napkin away and looked curiously at Elizabeth Bradford. The Xirniumite’s inscrutable countenance betrayed nothing, and always there was the enigma of her shinning grey eyes.

‘There is something similar in Xirnium, yes,’ replied the margravine with a nod that caused her lank, dark hair to shimmer lustrously. Thoughtfully considering her words, Zsófia nervously adjusting her pince-nez.

‘Since antiquity, the summer and winter solstices and the vernal and autumnal equinoxes have marked the most important pagan festivals in the Xirniumite calendar,’ explained the noblewoman. ‘Today these ancient seasonal celebrations have become statutory public holidays. On midsummer’s day, the Vârgúmai - that is, the goddesses of the sun, the dawn, and the dusk - are said to descend to the earth, garlanded with golden flowers and wearing silver slippers, in order to observe the summer solstice by dancing blithely with one another upon a grey hill.’

‘Wasn’t one of the Vârgúmai a goddess of the twilight?’ wondered Eléanor mindlessly, her interjection cutting short the margravine’s exposition almost before it had even begun.

‘No… perhaps you are thinking of the midwinter festival?’

‘Perhaps,’ shrugged Eléanor indifferently.

The Prime Minister, meanwhile, smiled at Kathleen’s kind words, graciously inclining her head towards the President’s wife. Her elegant gesture was understated and quite unconscious, a culturally-ingrained reflex.

‘It is my absolute honour and pleasure, madam, to be your guest in lovely Laneria,’ replied Heather magnanimously. ‘I can only hope that my visit here goes some way towards rectifying what, I think, has been a rather serious oversight in Xirniumite foreign policy. For you are quite right, our two peoples are natural friends. We share a type of kindred veneration for liberal democracy and secular governance, one that transcends mere cultural and national boundaries. Only great things can come from a closer friendship.’

Eléanor turned to Minerva’s husband, casually brushing back an errant lock of hair. In the noblewoman’s opinion, few things were more important than the cultural gulf between civilised Europe and the mostly (though certainly not entirely) barbarian world. It went without saying, however, that Eléanor kept such private views entirely to herself.

The countess smiled charmingly at Colonel Karamanlis.

‘From Selinia, is he? I was not aware that the Danaan High Kingdom’s moon colony had produced any great chefs. You really must give me his name!’

Elizabeth smiled a bit at the explanation. "That does sound very interesting. Perhaps we should visit Xirnium as well, Lewis?"

"Actually, that's not a bad idea. It might make our visit to Thule more palatable to Mr. Arango." Lewis responded. "Besides, it is harder to stay as up to date regarding affairs in Europe than it once was. Ever since the Victoria conference, we've heard very little from the Dutch Democratic Republic and I find myself increasingly concerned with the growing prominence of this National Liberal Party. Does Xirnium have a good relationship with Knootoss?"

"I am not sure the cultural boundaries are as large as you might think." Kathleen said. "In Laneria, we've always prided ourselves in being the one country which contains a bit of every other. It isn't literally true, of course, and perhaps the Danaan High Kingdom and Nabarro Abarca can both make the claim just as convincingly. However, ever since the first treaty between Laneria and the Ottoman Empire stated that 'the United States is as much a Muslim nation as a Christian one' we've held the view that our national identity is one that transcends our demographics and can be inclusive of the peoples and cultures of the whole world."

"In other words, there are a fair number of Lanerian citizens who are ethnically or culturally rooted in Northern Europe, even some whose ancestors came from Xirnium herself. And, while they are hardly a majority, most Lanerians are no more different from the great Xirniumite people than they are from many of their fellow citizens who come from every race, every religion and every continent." Joseph clarified.

Konstantinos shook his head. "The Principality, not the Lunar colony. It became mostly territorial shortly after the Second Ambaran War when Danaan land in Ambara became available. But his name is Eban Lotner."

‘If you do decide to come up to the Eternal Republic for midwinter, and I think it would be just marvellous if you did, then you must be sure to call on me,’ explained Zsófia, somewhat awkwardly but with an honest, friendly smile. The margravine had clearly never had much practice at inviting people to her home, although her intentions were obviously well-meaning.

Zsófia frowned slightly, however, at the mention of the Dutch Democratic Republic, thoughtfully considering how best to frame her response. The noblewoman did not want to say too much with Eléanor so close nearby.

‘The Knootians are a lovely people, of course, and our relationship with them has always been fairly cordial,’ she finally replied, noncommittally. ‘The Eternal Republic has not really interacted very much with Knootoss in the past; which is rather a shame, I think.’

The countess, meanwhile, listened as Konstantinos corrected her mistaken assumption. If Eléanor felt at all embarrassed at her error, she most certainly did not manifest any such feeling visibly. Eléanor was, however, rapidly becoming bored with the quality of conversation at her end of the table. Most frustrating (and unusual) of all was the apparent lack of interest being shown by Colonel Karamanlis in her personally, which was something that Eléanor certainly didn’t like at all.

‘I understand, Colonel, that you commanded troops in the name of High Queen Agwene during the Danaan Civil War,’ the countess indicated, picking the first topic that came to her lovely head. The noblewoman brought a wineglass to her scarlet lips, sipping slightly. ‘Exciting times, no doubt.’

Heather, for her part, listened carefully to the two Lanerians, giving them her full attention. Had she really implied that the cultural boundaries between the Eternal Republic and Laneria were all that substantial? The Prime Minister did not believe so, but decided that she would nonetheless soundly dispel the notion, just to be sure.

‘I think it’s just wonderful how successfully multiculturalism has worked in Laneria,’ said Heather with a broad smile, having waited politely until the President finished speaking. ‘The United States is such a shining bright example of what it truly means to be a “cultural federation”; yours is a nation where glorious diversity, rather than division, has observably enriched a harmonious and tolerant society. Whilst some nations have had to contend with the problems of social isolation and fragmentation, Laneria’s legacy of multiculturalism has led to unexampled interaction and understanding.’

‘But as I was saying before, there are ties I think that go beyond mere cultural distinctions,’ continued the Prime Minister. Heather started to further elaborate, but then stopped herself. ‘Allow me to explain, if I can. Multiculturalism, in my opinion, is not merely about the inclusion and celebration of ethnic, cultural and religious differences, paramount though that be. Multiculturalism is about the inclusion of these differences within a shared framework of universal values; including a guarantee for the rights and liberties of every individual person, respect for the rule of law, tolerance and understanding, secularism, and the democratic process. This is what has made Laneria’s multicultural experience something truly special.’

‘Now, I agree that the cultural boundaries between the Xirnium and the United States are not, when examined carefully, particularly great,’ explained Heather, specifically addressing Kathleen’s point. ‘More significant, in my opinion, are the commonalities which go beyond mere culture. Because if we can build on these, then we can unite in peace even the most diverse of peoples. Your Commonwealth has shown that.’

What utter tripe! thought the countess.

"We'd love to, my lady." Lewis said. "I'm sure that your home is as charming as you are."

"Perhaps we could make it something of a private tour." Elizabeth said. "Thule, the Melians, Xirnium, Amestria, Knootoss and then maybe Pantocratoria on the way back."

"We'd have to spend only a very brief time in each country then, Beth. Men in my position can't exactly just take an extended vacation." Lewis pointed out.

Kostas smiled slightly at Heather. "Exciting is one way of putting it. It was certainly a very hard time for me and for the country but I really believe we managed to come out of the ordeal and out of all our recent ordeals better than we were before."

"I think I might prefer the term separation of Church and State and religious liberty to secularism but your point is well taken." Joseph said. "It is a rather Rawlsian view which I'm sure my colleague will appreciate." he added with a glance over to Sarah.

"I certainly do, Mr. President." Sarah affirmed. "Although I think the Commonwealth is fairly rapidly going beyond merely the sort of international community envisaged in the The Law of Peoples."

Doubtless Lewis’ compliment had been uttered merely in an effort to appear nice, an offhand (but not really seriously intended) remark. Nonetheless, it immediately caused Zsófia’s cheeks to colour self-consciously, delighting the noblewoman. She very much hoped that the Bradfords really did find her charming. Quickly, the margravine muttered something about how the Lanerians need not address her in so formal a manner, trying her best not to seem embarrassed and politely invited them to use her given name instead.

Eléanor meanwhile was a little disappointed with Konstantinos’ answer. He seemed somewhat reticent, which made for boring conversation. More than once the countess found her mind wondering, and she had to consciously stop herself from playing with a long tress of golden auburn curls.

‘Pray do go on,’ Lady Sabëlinà urged Mr Karamanlis. ‘I’ve always personally found the Danaan Civil War to be such a terribly fascinating period of modern history, so full of high drama and adventure,’ breathed the countess with a sigh. ‘Why don’t you share a little anecdote?’

Heather for her part smiled politely at the Lanerian President’s remark, and said nothing about secularism. The Prime Minister sense that it might be a touchy issue, so instead she focused on the point raised by Ms Sacker.

‘History seems to teach us, I think, that federal arrangements rarely end up as originally envisioned by their founders,’ smiled the Prime Minister distantly. ‘You may find that the Commonwealth ultimately surprises even you.’

"Of course, Zsofia." Elizabeth said with a warm smile, even if she was a little bemused at the Xirniumites reaction. "The same goes for us."

"An anecdote?" Kostas asked a bit incredulously.

"I may yet." Sarah admitted.

The countess frowned at this reaction, having naturally assumed that the Danaan would at least attempt to impress her with tales of daring military exploits.

‘Pray forgive my presumptuousness, Colonel Karamanlis. Doubtless such were trying times, which I’m sure you don’t particularly want to relive,’ indicated Eléanor. Despite her apology, the noblewoman’s lovely expression did not seem in the least part sorry.

‘Yes, lovely soup,’ remarked the countess in somewhat a dry manner, tasting a little. Eléanor lapsed into bored silence.