A Search For a Bride! (IC, Closed)

[Albicia]

Crown City of Prudhomme, Albicia

In the only pure white city in Albicia, the populations of the usually polarized Irish and French population mingled together in their joy. After a series of embarressing scandals involving both men and women, the Emperor was finally ready to settle down with a bride and produce an heir. Of the six women chosen as possible brides (Elizabeth Victoria Westhall-Windsor of Catholic Cornwall, Leonora Margaret de Windt Brooke of the Sarawak Raj, Nadia Gadaffi of West Libya,Maljov Kinkya of OST Germany, Kayaneh Kassouni of Nalaya, Elizabeth Faleen of McConia), only one would be chosen as the Empress. The two favorites among the selected women were Elizabeth Westhall-Windsor and Elizabeth Faleen of McConia. Papers had already been printed for each possibility of marriage. Bunting bearing White Hawks, the symbol of the Imperial Dynasty, and Albi parrots, the symbol of Albicia. The prospective brides would arrive by plane in Prudhomme, capital of the nation, where they would met the Dowager Empress, drive south to Port au Prince, the main harbour of the Empire, going inland to Sinclair Manor, where they would meet the Emperor, and travel to the mountains with him, where he would select a bride.

The women would be feted by both blacks and whites in every town they passed, though they would mostly be driving straight through. And even if they are not selected, every woman will be given a horse, a box of jewellery, and an Order of the Albician Empire. Only one would be Empress.

OOC: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=136352

[McConia]

OOC: So we just come in as a plane landing, or assume that our ladies are there already?

[Nalaya]

Kayaneh sighed when she made it out of the plane, looking up at the cerulean sky. Already she missed the mountain air of her homeland, the familiar uniform of service, the weight of a sword in her hands. But such was the way of things. The young Nalayan woman ran her thumb over the photograph she'd been looking at, reminding herself to call Sona when they made it to a place with a proper phone. She ran her fingers through her hair with a hint of nerves, tucking the picture back in her pocket. A human always needed something to be faithful to, to think of when battle or the other terrors in life suddenly reared their ugly heads.

Am I ready to be married? Kayaneh wondered as she walked towards the terminal with her bag slung over her shoulder, half excited to meet the Dowager Empress and half terrified. It's worth trying to find love.

Prudhomme was very different from her homeland. Everyone seemed to look the same with their pale skin--and the city was so new, with a modern international airport built of polished glass and reinforced steel. It was a far cry from the ancient city of Khn'dzoresk, with its narrow cobbled streets and the temples that dated back from before the time of Christ, or the unassailable Sevan, carved into a mountain with streets that bridged thin air in delicate arches. Kayaneh was fascinated by the strange angles and unusual architecture of the modern era.

Now she just had to meet the Dowager Empress and not screw up.

[Albicia]

OOC: So we just come in as a plane landing, or assume that our ladies are there already?

OOC: Come by plane

[Albicia]

The Press Secretary Francis Marion was waiting at the airport with six limousines, one for each prospective bride. He was first and foremost a servant of the Dowager Empress, with the Emperor playing second fiddle. The Dowager Empress was very concerned about her sons playboy lifestyle, and craved a grandson. If he stuffed this up, he would either be transfered to the Anti-Maron Corps, or even have his boat sunk. A voice came into his ear. "[i]Sir, the Nalayan plane just landed.[i] Taking a deep breath he strode forward to meet Kayaneh Arevik yerekhan Zaruhi yev Levon , fourth in line to the Nalayan throne. He had looked over her application, and she was rather pretty. She was also a virgin, and she could speak Latin, so their would be no problems with communication. However, the Queen Dowager had just glanced over the application, declaring her unsuitable because of her job in the military. She had stated that it was not suitable for a woman to join the Armed Forces, citing the Princess Leonora of the Sarawak Raj, who had a job as a nurse. But then Marion had pointed out that she was willing to resign her commision, and the Queen Dowager had reluctantly accepted.

He strode towards her, with a smile on his face. "Welcome to Prudhomme your Grace. I trust that you will enjoy your stay. I have a limousine witing to take you to Campton House, where you and the other prospective brides will attend a banquet with the Queen Dowager."

[Nalaya]

"Just Kayaneh, please," the girl said, uncomfortable with the foreign form of address. Military rank was the main thing that people used formally in Nalaya, or similar titles. If they weren't going to use one of those for her, then she was fine with being called by her first name. She gave the Press Secretary a polite bow and a small smile. The Nalayan stood up straight, her military poise the envy of court ladies--nothing like a drill sergeant screaming in your ear could really get you to sit up and stand up straight like a ruler. "Paron Secretary Marion, correct? I have seen you in the news once or twice. This is an honor and a pleasure. I hope I am not too much inconvenience."

Kayaneh accompanied her looks with a warmth of personality. She seemed genuinely honored and flattered to meet the Press Secretary, and interested by anything he had to say. He was not some servant that she brushed off coldly and casually. She smoothed out her civilian clothes--Sona had been an invaluable help in dressing stylishly--and walked with the Press Secretary towards the car that appeared to have been stretched. Once they were inside the limo, and Kayaneh had managed to make conversation, she gave the Secretary an apologetic smile. "Should I be concerned about meeting the Duchess? I know I am not the usual person to show up to such things."

[Albicia]

The Press Secretary had to think a long while before he could answer Kayaneh. He seemed to hesitate, then managed to speak a little. "Well, Her Majesty can be a little imposing at times. She has a will that it is impossible to bend at all. However, if she likes you you can count on her loyalty at all times. I myself was raised from a red leg family to my current eminence by her."

He paused, remembering working 12 hours a day and still starving. He also remembered how when his family relised his intelligence, food was diverted from his brothers and sisters and given to him. And how even he had been forced to go hungry to make enough money to go to the tiny primary school 12 mile away. And how the monks of Saint Joesph had taken him in at twelve and educated him. And how at fifteen, pondering wheather to become a monk, a chauffer arrived to take him to Prudhomme, where he was sent by a anonymus benefactor to th finest Grammar Schools,then universities in France to become a soliciter. Then, when he arrived back, he found that his benefactor was the Grand Duchess, who then set him up as the Emperors Press Secretary.

"However, if you show potential, she will favor you over anyone else. Her Majesty, if impressed by your wit, charm, or beauty, will prove a valuable ally. She controls the day-to-day running of the nation, and her influence is very strong with her son."

[The Sarawak Raj]

The Princess Leonora tried once again to read the book before her, but sighed in frustration after only a few minutes and placed it aside. She was just too nervous, she was here to meet the Emperor of Albicia, her potential husband. Staring outside the private Jets window, she pondered the many questions that flitted about her mind, their perplexing dance leaving the young princess even more confused.

On one hand she hoped the Emperor would like her, and that she wouldn't bore him or embarrass herself. On the other hand she was nervous that she didn't know what the Emperor was like. Yet as the plane guided to a landing she felt herself relax a little, she was here now, and whatever happened it was all forward from here.

The pilot came out from the cockpit, and after a quick bow began to speak to the princess, "Your Highness, we have reached the Albician airport"

She smiled thinly and replied, "Thank you, I will leave shortly." She stood up and smoothed her dress out, one of deep blue silk that left her arms bare.

Walking down the steps of the Jet she looked around for whom the Emperor would send to meet her.

[Nalaya]

"She sounds like some of my officers," Kayaneh said with a smile, actually reassured by what he'd told her. The beauty thing didn't fit, but she was used to being measured by her deeds. This would just be a stranger criteria.

It made her homesick, for a moment. It was difficult to shake the feeling that she was abandoning the people who really needed her to play princess in a fairy story. Like every Nalayan, Kayaneh was a soldier both by calling and by necessity. Besides, it put food on the table for Sona. She'd actually seen war despite her young age. She could remember what had been at stake altogether too well.

That by itself, she mused, probably made her unfit as far as the Dowager Duchess was concerned. In most countries, apparently they didn't like their ladies capable of defending a country.

[Albicia]

"Although I am sure Her Majesty does not like to be referred to as a soldier, she really is an old battlehorse." He grinned, thinking of how apt the comparison was. A voice chimed in his ear. ""Excellency, we have reached the palace." Marion turned around and said, "Your Grace, I mean Kayaneh, we a here. You will be assigned a handmaiden, who will prepare you for the banquet. Just one more word of advice. Always use Her Majestys title, even if she tells you to call her Ellen or Your Majesty. Only refer to her as Empress Dowager. Goodbye my dear." Kayaneh stepped out of the car, which promptley pulled away. Marion thought over Kayaneh. She was a good girl, although perhaps to headstrong for the Dowager. but he was sure the Emperor would love he sharp tongue. Anyway, he needed to get dressed for the banquet.

..............................................

Secretary Louis Davout escorted Princess Leonora form the plane to the waiting limousine. She was very delicate. "Your Highness, I would advise you to dress with sleves for the rest of your trip. Although it may be hot, your porcelain skin will get freckled, or worse sunburnt."

[Volmachtia]

The hiss of the jet's engines slowed down as the aircraft bumped onto the runway, wheels screeching. Princess Anne-Augusta of Volmachtia clenched her teeth- like her brother, she hated flying. As the Kaiser, though, he had to do it quite often, which had left him with more of a grudging acceptance. She rarely ever left mainline Volmachtian territory, large as it is, and such trips tended to be new to her. She brushed the strands of crimson hair that had fallen over her left cheek, carefully readjusting her finely-polished attire for her meeting with the first suitor that had properly recieved her. Other monarchs might be drunken, rambling idiots and cowards, but the Albician Emperor was a man of respectable stature. The pilot of the small passenger jet gave her a thumbs up, readjusting the microphone while cracking jokes in German with the flight control attendant. Anne rose, pressing her blue-white blouse down, and began to make her way out of the aircraft as she spoke with her brother over a long-range phone.

"Yes, yes, Karl, I know my business here is for the good of the Kaiserreich. You act like Father sometimes, at least before he passed." The Kaiser Karl Friedrich laughed, deep and hearty for a man of such young age, and said, "Oh, yes, sister. I must be his clone. But don't you worry, I've knocked down enough dictators and empires for my three years in the Palace. You enjoy your time with this Emperor, and keep your calm, will you? You're a girl, a rich princess girl, but a girl nonetheless." Anne chuckled. "I will, brother. Take care, and make sure my favorite horse is taken care of." She clicked the bluetooth power button, and stepped down from the deployable stairway onto the private airstrip the Emperor had generously provided. He was supposed to have a limousine waiting for her, but she didn't see it just yet... oh well, time is pliable. The two guards of her escort marched into step and snapped to attention behind her, stony faces and eyes casually scanning for threats to the Princess.

[Albicia]

"Quickly Jacques, we have two minutes until we get to the airport where the Princess is!" The limousine sped through the enormous airport, through which thousands of vehicles were parked. The Gaelic Legion had forged a path through the road, making sure their were no delays. Marion saw the private jet of the princess, and breathed a sigh of relief. It was about 4 P.M, with the sun still high in the sky. He saw the beautiful princess, in a distinctive blue and white gown. Marion leaped out of the car, with two Gaelic Leggionarres running after. A few metres away from the Princess he tried to get his hair and clothing into something that even approached respectability. Bowing profusely, with many apologies, Marion gretted the Princess. "Greetings Highness, I am so very sorry that I could not have been here faster. I was delivering another suitor for His Majesty. She was pretty, but not nearly as becoming as you are."

[Nalaya]

Kayaneh sighed a little bit as she walked up to the palace. Why do I even bother? I am not a princess. In Nalaya, there was no nobility, no bloodline. Only who you were and what you could do. A good heart and the actions to back it up took you far. She touched the photo in her pocket again for reassurance, thinking of all the things she had left behind for this trip. Was Sona alright in Osthia? Was her unit safe? Or would they be going to the front lines without her?

Yes, I am not soft. I do not gasp and titter like a good lady of the court should. But that is because I know what matters and what does not. The Empress Dowager could hopefully at least understand that and not scold her for her service. Kayaneh looked around for her handmaiden, not entirely certain of what that job entitled. Foreigners were...baffling sometimes.

[Albicia]

Handmaiden Louise gave a small curtesy to Kayaneh. "Greetins Your Grace." She seemed to hesitate for a while, then plowed on. "I will be your handmaiden. My job will be to dress you, to fix your hair, and to make a few suggestions on dress. In three hours the Empress Dowager will recieve you all." Seeing Kayaneh prepare to speak, she shhed her. "Now, your apartments have a very large amount of clothing, perfume and shoes. For you, I think something simple. Perhaps a emerald green dress, muslin, with slippers?"

[Nalaya]

Kayaneh appeared to consider this. Then she nodded. "Green it is, then," she said quietly, giving her handmaiden a small smile. She was a bit out of her depth here, so she was pleased to know she had someone helping her. "And I'm not Your Grace. Just Kayaneh, I promise. Thank you very much for the help, Louise. I do appreciate it."

[McConia]

Duchess apparent Elizabeth Faleen stared down from the small window at the quickly approaching runway. She hadn't been this anxious in ages. Not since the civil war that nearly split the nation. She laid back in her seat and thought,"Alright Lizzy, you can do this, for the Empire, for the Emperor, but mostly for herself. She silently recited the Lord's prayer, finishing just as the 737 touched down on the tarmac. After the plane settled, her father, Duke of Jureax, Aaron Faleen marched into the room in his dress suit, medals and titles gleaming.

"My Beautiful Lizzy, everytime I lay eyes on you I think of the day you were born, when you were my petite Chere." he said in a booming voice.

"Mon Pere, I will always be your little darling, I just might be the Empress of Albicia at the same time." she said smiling.

Just as she finished, two Royal Paladins entered the cabin with their rifles gleaming in the light. They bowed and then escorted the Duke, Duchess, and Duchess apparent onto the tarmac, and into the gate. There the trio and their party waited patiently for their hosts.

[Albicia]

Lord Robillard bowed towards Duchess Elizabeth. "Greetings Majesty, I am Lord Robillard, one of the commitee assigned to this search for a bride. I hope that you will find your stay her enjoyable. You are the fourth great lady to arrive, so in a few hours the banquet will begin. So we must get you to your handmaiden very quickly. You must be flustered after your hours of travel."
................................................................

The Prudhomme Palace complex was currently revolving around the Grande Salle. Three of the Princesses were being dressed, and the last one was currently driving to her apartments. When all the Ladies were ready, they would all enter their limousines at once and drive around to the front of the Palace, where an honour guard of 1200 Gaelic Legion, dressed in green and gold, and 1200 Empress Dragoons, dressed in perpetual mourning like the Empress, were lined up. They would alight from the vehicles, and walk down the entrance hall, which was filled with paintings of the Emperors Dynasty, the Villard family and the Prudhomme family. They would then enter the Grande Salle, which was one of the most magnificent sights in the Empire. Their were already a thousand burning candles, and the enormous chandelier shone like the sun. Their would be four tables, One horizontally at the back of the room, to be filled with the Empress Dowager, wearing thick black clothes, crepes, and a semi-transparent veil, and the Ladies, with four hundred esteemed member of the community seated below their dais.

Their food would be sumptuous example of French and English cuisine. Rich soups, hour-old bread, and dainty slads were for the first course. Their would be three mains, with lobster, boar and peacocks, while the aroma of barbecque from the slave quarters flowed in. Then would follow little tidbits to fill up the stomach. For dessert, dainty cakes, icecream, and fruits would be finished by enormous layer cakes. The Empress Dowager barely ever ate a thing, perhaps haveing a spoonful of icecream or a slice of peacock. Throughout it all she would be watching the Ladies on their etiquette, staring at them like an old bird until they fixed up.

[Nalaya]

This is insane, Kayaneh reflected, looking down at her hands. A dark, patterned band curled around her right ring finger, a traditional tattoo that all the women in the service bore--a homage to the spirits of the dead who had gone before them. You are a soldier. That callous there? That is from pulling a trigger. That one on your thumb? From wielding a sword. What King thinks its hot that you can kick his ass?

She paused as several names came to mind, then winced. Perhaps she shouldn't have said that, but still. She was at least dressed--Louise had been extremely helpful, something for which Kaya would always be grateful. Green did suit her, though she'd kept her hair relatively simple. Ornate dress and style had never been popular in Nalaya--they preferred simple beauty. She'd also put on the silver ring that was the only heirloom her family really had left besides the patterns Sona wove, the twin dragon-serpents clutching tiny glyphs to ward off evil and ill fortune. Kaya did wear a cross, a small olive wood one from Jerusalem. She'd had the good fortune to see it once in her life.

Kaya sighed. And soon, there would be a dinner where someone would run a fine toothed comb over her every move. On the other hand, that was no different from every single inspection she'd ever been through, and the Dowager Empress probably would be far less inclined to use harsh language or punishment. She knew she had the manners to survive, if only because of military etiquette and her mother's good family background.

Unfortunately, there was nothing she could do about the scar that ran from her right collar bone to the back of her right shoulder, left exposed by the green dress. You could always tell when someone had been hacked at with a heavy blade, like a machete--no matter how many years it had been, the mark was always there. For Kayaneh, that had happened when she was only about 12. The scar remained.

She stood up. It was probably about time to go to dinner and get this over with.

[Albicia]

The Empress Dowager st in her seat at the head of the table, very dignified and matronly in black, veil and crepe, with a silver locket that contained one of her husbands hairs, and two onyx mourning brooches, rereading the applications in her mind. Of the four that were here for the banquet, all of them were suitable. They were all fertile, all virgins and all of their reputations were sound. Three were nobles, and one was just a simple Staff Seargent. It was the Staff Seargent that piqued her interest the most. Kayaneh her name was. A pagan, but willing to accept the word of God. And her situation was very much like hers. She thought back to the day she had met her husband, then a handsomeman of thirty, and she, a mildly attractive nurse of twenty-five.

It was -1 R.A.R (year of the king). She was head nurse in Saint Marys Hospital. He was brought to her by orderlys, who did not tell her who he was. A bullet was lodged in his shoulder. Their was no surgeon, so she performed the operation and closed up the wound. When he awoke, he asked for the angel that had operated on him. She came, and said that it was nothing. The young officer revealed that his name was Sidney Ashcroft II, Colonel of the Gaelic Legion, and eldest son of its commander, the future Emperor. He proposed then and their. Three years after their marriage (29 R.A.R) their son, the current Emperor was born. He died two years later, with his father, in a aeroplane crash. As her husband had lived three hours longer than his father in hospital, she was Empress for three hours. At the age of forty she was the Empress Dowager, running the country with the Viceroy and two Consuls.

The Seargent walked in, and was announced by the an Imperial Herald. She was very simply but elegantly dressed. The Empress Dowager whispered to the slave behind her that Kayanah should sit on her right hand. As Kayanah walked up to the dais, and was taken to her seat, the Dowager looked to her and said, "Good evening my dear."

[Nalaya]

The sergeant thanked both her driver and handmaiden profusely before coming in, swallowing her nerves. At least she was fairly certain that no one was going to shoot at her in the next few hours. Once she had that thought, it put things marvelously in perspective.

Kayaneh gave the Nalayan traditional bow to the Empress before sitting down, her back ramrod straight. She had the bearing of a woman used to commanding in the military, which was more than any boarding school for nobles could ever instill. "It is an honor, arravel azniv Empress Dowager," she said politely, using her native honorific as well as the title. "I am K'an Serzhant Kayaneh Kassouni. Thank you for allowing me to impose so on your hospitality--everyone has been kindness itself to me since my arrival."

She could see many things in the Empress Dowager that reminded her of her own officers back in Nalaya. The woman had seen hardship and loss, something that immediately made Kayaneh feel a kinship towards her. Few nobles she had ever met understood what it was to love and to lose like too many Nalayans did. Instead, they lived their lives in padded, gilded cages where no harm could ever come. And yet, the Empress Dowager bore herself with all the dignity and solemn grace of the great names within Nalaya: Anahid Vaneni, Rehan Nazarian, even St. Ashkhen of old.

Genuine respect blazed in Kayaneh's heart now. She wanted to earn this woman's approval, and not because she was here to potentially be courted by her son. The Empress Dowager was a hin urvakan, someone worthy to lead and a great honor to follow, just as the Protector of Nalaya was.

[Albicia]

"I understand the honour of the statement, and I offer my most fervent thanks for it. I must admit, I had my doubts about you as a possible bride to my son and mother to my grandchildren, but meeting you in the flesh has utterly quelled them." This woman is a true soldier. She was been through any amounts of combat, and risen above it all. Imagine the children of this woman and my son! They would combine the blood of cultured aristocrats to the grim strangth and determination of the Nalayan peoples. Kayaneh was fast emerging as her favorite among the possible brides.

The Empress Dowager did a soft slap. Immediatly dozens of waiters carrying succulent soups and breads emerged. A tall, first generation Negroe bowed to the Empress Dowager, and presented her with a small dish the size of two hands carrying potato and leeks soup, spinich on the side. "Now, Kayaneh, we have a variety of soups and breads here. I reccomend the Port-au-Prince bread. It is quite salty, made with wheat and seaweed. It smacks of the sea. And we also have some beef stroganoff, which is simply delightful."

[Nalaya]

Kayaneh was delighted to hear beef stroganoff mentioned, even though she was still a bit sick to her stomach from both jet lag and nerves. "Arravel azniv Dowager Empress, you do me too much kindness, I fear. I have not seen food this wonderful since I was last in Sevan," she said with a bright smile. She did, however, wait before eating. Table manners were quite universal in courts and at military functions, but certain rules changed such as who ate first. In Nalaya, guests were practically doted on, but she expected no such thing here.

I wish Sona were here. She loves stroganoff, Kaya reflected, a sudden pang of worry making her stomach knot up again. I hope she is alright. Has she taken her medicine? The young Nalayan woman took a small, quiet breath to calm herself down. Sona would be fine. She was seventeen now. She could take care of herself.

It would have been dishonest for Kaya to tell herself she wasn't self conscious here, sitting at a table with an Empress and noble young ladies. But she did not feel inferior by any sense of the word, just a bit...plain. In Nalaya, you were as important as you made yourself. People rose and fell by their own merit, shaping their own destiny. She respected the Empress as possessing the same qualities as the legendary figures of her homeland, but these others did not command the same.

The servants were slightly confusing, granted. She was used to being served at military dinners, but that was by lesser officers (and she had done her own share of serving, as she would be the first to admit). These people were far more...servile. Like it was more than just a temporary job, it was their purpose in life. She wasn't quite certain how to deal with that, so Kayaneh was flawlessly polite and respectful to them as well, just as she would be to anyone in Nalaya who was of a lower rank. She was their equal in measure, if not in temporary power.

[Albicia]

The other three princesses entered, and were escorted to their places, each ordering a variety of foods, soups, breads, and pastas. The Dowager was in the center of the table, Kayanah of Nayala was seated to the Empress Dowager right hand, Prinzessin Anne-Augusta der Otermann to the Dowagers left, Princess Leonora to the far right, and Elizabeth Faleen of McConia to the far left. Every lady had two or three servants doting on them. However, the Empress Dowager only had one, a tall black man, probably ancient, but his age impossible to tell, who had not moved except to bow to the Empress Dowager as she sat down.
....................................................

The Empress raised her voice by an octane, and all chat on the dais and the lesser tables stopped. "Please everyone, I beg of you, start your meal. I will start later. She turned to Kayaneh. "So, although I have read a few books on Nalaya, what is it really like?" She thought for a while. "What are the people like, what are the man ethnic groups?" Before Kayanah could answer, the Dowager fixed her gaze on Princess Leonora, who was slurping her soup and blissfully unaware of anyones attention. For a few moments the Dowager silently stared at Leonora. All talk immediatly stopped, and Leonora looked up. The Dowager whispered to the balck man behind her, "Have her escorted to the bathroom and cleaned up. And assign her a new handmaiden." Using subtle movements with his eyes, the slave told the slave behind Leonora what the Dowager had told him. "I am sorry about that K'an Serzhant. So, what is Nalaya like?

[Nalaya]

She smiled slightly. "It is no trouble at all, arravel azniv Dowager Empress," she said softly. She gently encouraged the servants around her not to trouble themselves on her behalf, eating carefully with her back still straight. It was easy to mind her manners--all she had to do was to imagine her drill instructor standing behind her right shoulder glowering at her.

"My home is beautiful, arravel azniv Dowager Empress. Mountains, forests, pristine coasts. It is a country steeped in ancient history, and it is still a part of us. We are mostly Arusai, Armenian, or Palestinian. But there are many refugees who have come to our shores lately. We are honored to give others a chance to start over," Kayaneh said. She seemed to light up when discussing her homeland. "I love it so. Someday, arravel azniv Dowager Empress, you must see it. Nalaya is a place of art, tradition, culture, and music. General Vaneni has recreated it in a golden age after the Unification War we all fought in. You would hardly believe the grace that has come from the chaos of our past."

[Albicia]

The Empress Dowager took one sip of soup, and replied to Kayanah. "I belive that cultures are always improved by the integration of others. I myself am mainly French, my husband was half English, half Irish, so my son and daughter are a very different mix. Albician culture is mainly French, with a few Irish, English and African traditions as well, for example the Maypole." The Empress Dowager took two other tiny spoonfuls of soup. "Nalaya sounds like a beautiful country. Do you know how much a villa their would be? I usually have to flee to the mountains for eight months, with every other European on the island, to escape the sweltering heat of the plains. For the last few years though, I have been either on yachts or in Brittany. I would certainly enjoy a gilla in Nalaya."