The Griffon and the Peacock (IC, Please Sign Up First)

[New Edom]

Sign Up Thread Please use the sign up thread before posting here. Also: please write your arrival thus:
1. Assume that your people are properly greeted at the airport by somebody; appropriate honours are done, security is observed, your characters will arrive at the hotel they are staying at--the Majesty Hotel has been designated for guests of importance exclusively for this event, and all necessary security has been done there.

2. Please post your arrival and observations. Assume that quiet conversation may take place.

3. A minor bit of rping will take place leading up to the wedding ceremony itself. There will be one post from Izzy and from me about the actual ceremony; feel free to post observations and quiet conversations--ie whispers and the like--for your characters during the ceremony.

4. Following this there will be a receiving line and a reception. Please feel free to post simultaneously a responsive greeting or blessing during the receiving line and then post freely during the reception.

To Whom it May Concern,

It is my utmost pleasure to announce the wedding of His Excellency, Thomas, Count Lalery to Her Royal Highness, Victoria, Princess Royal and Archduchess of Vinera. Within this joyous marital event the House Obed and House Maddox shall be bound by blood and letters and by this the two nations shall be tied as allies and friends.

Both Her Majesty Queen Sophia and His Royal Highness, James, The Prince Regent have felt that the presence of a representative of your country would be both fitting and desirable. Therefore please find enclosed a invitation of admittance to the ceremony at Fineberg Cathedral and the reception generously hosted by the House Obed at Betharan Palace. It is important to please fill out the attached RSVP form, to ensure a smooth issue of visa's and for your delegates to be awarded seating and dining.

The ceremony shall begin at 10:00 am, with admittance within the Cathedral beginning at 9:30 am. After the ceremony, a small meal will be followed by dancing and entertainment.

Could all attendees please note that no firearms will be permitted at either event and swords to be limited to ceremonial dress only. Any special dietary requirements or inquiries should be forwarded to either Sir Alexander Hughes at the Izzyerian Ministry of Foreign Affairs or The Most Holy Thaddeus Burden, of the Edomite Ministry of Foreign Affairs.

Your humble servant,



Sir Alexander Hughes, OR, OQC, Minister of Foreign Affairs

Royal Fanfare
Fineberg, New Edom

The Royal Guards were present for the arrivals of the guests—as appropriate national anthems were played, the resplendent cherry red uniform tunics, gold frogging and ornate shakos blazing in the sun, bayonets gleaming, drums rolling and trumpets, trombones, fifes, tubas and French horns playing beautifully the much practiced music, gleaming cars driving the guests through the city. It was impossible to hide that there were protests; even though all the political rallying areas had been urged to be silent, there were thousands of Finebergers out in blue and white paint, in spite of the early winter chill (about +12 in Fineberg) their nakedness showing their allegiance. However out as well in force were the Monarchists of the city, waving crowned griffon and peacock flags and cheering.

What kept the mood quiet was that when Prince James and Princess Rebecca arrived at the Cathedral, they came with President Touchstone and Archbishop William Laudner. The President wore a tuxedo with his sash of office. Here and there cries of partisans—“David! David!” and “Father William!” were heard from among the crowd of the so recently war divided city.

To Touchstone's great displeasure, in spite of all this, he heard the excellent harmonies of an ETC militia unit, leading the crowd around them in a popular song, as they sang (in homage to him)
As we rally round the flag, as we rally once again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!
We will rally from the hills, we will rally from the plains
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!

The Congress forever! Hurrah, folks hurrah!
Up with the Griffon, and down with the crown!

As we rally round the flag as we rally once again
Shouting the battle cry of freedom!

In spite of the 30th Armoured Cavalry Regiment soldiers on the streets, some of whom were bewildered, but who were mostly sympathetic, and the red faced Royal Guardsmen, and efforts by officers of both regiments making slashing gestures, warning people, shouting, pointing at them in some cases, the voices began to rise, so recently joyfully singing hymns in gratitude of recovery for President Touchstone.

THE CONGRESS FOREVER! HURRAH FOLKS HURRAH! UP WITH THE GRIFFON AND DOWN WITH THE CROWN! AS WE RALLY ROUND THE FLAG , AS WE RALLY ONCE AGAIN, SHOUTING THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM!

Touchstone said grimly, "My apologies, your Highnesses."

"What, President Touchstone," said Princess Rebecca acidly, hiding her fear. "You are not grateful for the homage of the people?"

Touchstone looked at her coldly. "Not in this case, I fear."

Fortunately, following after, the Archbishop was driven by, also in an open car, accompanied by two bishops and his private secretary. He was in his full regalia, his aged bent form recognized by the people. It was hard to boo when at least someone you loved was in the open topped car, and so people simply bowed respectfully as the dignitaries of the land arrived. Above all others, the Archbishop was seen as a good, saintly man who had done endless kindness to the poor and homeless of New Edom, who was always a voice of reason and peace, and Monarchist or Free Congress, all loved the old man. This seemed to have a calming effect.

The Cathedral
As guests entered the cathedral, they were presented by the Royal Major-Domo, and saw that there were Royal Guards of both houses on either side in all their full dress, and purple and white flowers decorated the cathedral itself, with banners of the Peacock and the Griffon displayed handsomely. There was a good fresh scent of the flowers, a hint of incense, and within they could see the handsomeness of the old building so beautifully preserved.

When the descendants of Belisarius the Emperor brought Christianity to New Edom, along with it they brought classical architecture,

In the words of an awestruck observer in the 18th Century visiting Fineberg: And towards the west one may see the same forms as towards the dawn, though there is a small difference. For there in the central space it is not drawn in a curved arc as it is at the eastern end, where the priests, learned in the art of sacrifice, preside on seats resplendent with an untold wealth of silver; at the west is a great, richly-wrought portal, not a single one, but divided into three at the boundary of the temple. By the doors there stretches out a lengthy porch receiving those that enter beneath wide gates. It is as long as the wondrous church is broad; this space is called narthex by the Greeks. Here through the night there rises a melodious sound pleasing to the ears of Christ, giver of life, when the psalms of God-fearing David are sung with alternate voice by the sacred ministers. Into the porch there open wide seven holy gates inviting the people to enter; one of these is on the narrow face of the narthex facing south, and another on the northern wing; the rest on their groaning pivots are opened by the warden in the west wall which marks the end of the church. Whither am I driven? What wind, as upon the sea, has carried away my roaming speech? The center of the church, the most renowned place, has been neglected. Return, my song, to behold a wonder scarcely to be believed when seen or heard.

Now, towards the east and the west, you will see nothing beneath the arches: all is air. But towards the murmuring south wind and the rainless north there rises a mighty wall up to the chin of the rounded arch, and it is illuminated by twice four windows. This wall rests below on stone props, for, underneath it, six Haemonian columns, , like the fresh green of the emerald, hold up a tireless sinewy juncture (it is there that the women have their seats). These in turn are heaved upon massive heads by four columns fixed immovable on the ground, glittering jewels of Thessalian marble graced with locks of golden hair. They separate the middle mansion of the glorious church from the lengthy aisle (aithousa) that lies alongside. Never were such columns, high-crested, blooming like a grove with bright flowers, cut from the land of Molossis.

In one of the vestries, Princess Mara, in her dove-grey dress that beautifully emphasized the feminine curves and delicacy of the bridal party, was waiting while sipping a glass of fizzy water and mango, and said cheerfully, “Well, no sounds of shooting yet, so it must all be going well.” She glanced over to where a last check over Princess Victoria’s attire was being checked. ‘You’ll be fine, Victoria, this will be a good day. A very good day.”

"What about that singing?" muttered Olivia. "That can't be good."

For his own part, Count Lalery was smoking a cigar and having a drink with Count Merodach, Captain Cotta and Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, none of them saying very much except to talk about how it was the start of the Motor Jousting Season, and who would be lined up for the national teams.

"Let them sing." said Thomas Lalery. "Let them shout. They're sheep, nothing more." he raised his eyebrows, glancing at the others. "How about another hand? Stud?"

"Very well. If you don't like having money around, then we can do some stud." agreed Count Merodach, flexing his hands and letting the cards snap.

[Crown Island]

Lord Mounter was called to the foreign office immediately.
"Good morning David"came the voice from the man in the chair.

"Good morning William.What have you called me here for?"asked Lord Mounter in a curious voice.
"You have been summoned here because as you may of heard the Princess Margaret has had her child and this is the Emperors first grandchild,he and the Empress were scheduled to go to a wedding in New Edom but they cannot go now because of the child"
"You are to go there with your wife in the Emperor and Empress' place to represent Crown Island"
"Are you up to the task?"
"Yes William I shall represent the nation"
"Very good David now you shall be taken to the airport and flown into the country and taken there"
"Your flight leaves in 1 hour on the Imperial Jet"
David hurried out of the door slamming it behind him while shouting back "Bye" the car was waiting outside he was at the airport in a matter of minutes.He boarded the plane and was off.In two hours he touched down at the airport an entered into the car waiting with the Imperial guard surrounding him.He arrived at the cathedral and walked graciously up the steps to the door.He entered and took his seat and stopped on the way to hand an official a letter to hand to the King or Queen.

The letter read

Your majesties I am sorry to inform you that the Emperor and Empress cannot attend due to the birth of their first grandchild.They send their best wishes to the couple and hope they enjoy marriage.

From

Emperor Daniel Crown VIII
Empress Elizabeth Crown

Lord Mounter began to wait patiently for the ceremony to take place.

[Of the Quendi]

She was resplendently dressed in an elegant bridesmaid dress bearing no markers identifying her as she walked through the streets of Fineberg seemingly unguarded by house guards of either of her two families. Her ears, with their distinctive points, was camouflaged by a mane of long golden blond hair, and her lithe, almost fairy, figure concealed behind an elegant white coat. Only the pale complexion, and even that seemed less pronounced that day due to a slight blush, would identify her to a skilled anthropologist as an Eruhína, and nothing could identify her as an Alcedina to any not intimately associated with the dynasty.

Aredhel knew that it was rather childish of her and certainly no way of behaving for a future Queen of Izzyshipper but her past in military intelligence had left in the young Crown Princess a great passion for walking amongst the common folk unnoticed and undetected. There was much knowledge about the moods and opinions of a people to be gained from such little missions, and on her first visit to New Edom Aredhel would not want to pass by the opportunity to learn the sentiments of the People of the country that her birthplace still considered an enemy.

As she walked towards the cathedral, lingering at every street corner to absorb all the impressions, Aredhel began humming along to the piece sung by the Finebergians. ”Up with the Griffin, and down with the Crown.” She sang, her accent a perfect mimicry of what she presumed to be a local Finebergian dialect. That refrain almost reminded Aredhel of her homeland as it seemed to espouse an opinion of monarchism comparable to that of the average Quendë. The same could not be said for the naked protesters, but of course winter in Fineberg was a lot warmer than Charn.

As she neared the cathedral the amount of protesters grew greater and the singing louder. As she, camouflaged as she was, still looked like the wedding attendant she was Aredhel seized her singing to not provoke any confrontation. After her little tour through Fineberg Aredhel was in a far too good mood to be interested in slitting the throats of any hotheaded kid, impassioned by revolutionary zest and longing to bring down a monarchist. Plus her political crisis making days were, for the most part, over.

Discreetly slipping onto the church grounds, flashing an id card against any security personnel and tolerating patiently any security checks the young Crown Princess walked towards the vestry where the bride to be was no doubt struggling with nerves and doubts. In jest the Crown Princess resumed singing the, quite catchy, song only this time in her own oxford accent.

Before entering the vestry Aredhel quickly corrected her camouflaged appearance. Up from her purse a came a jeweled necklace, a golden waist chain and her own wedding ring that had been to revealing to wear while in disguise. Further she fetched a cloak in royal blue silk with a coat of arms with both kingfisher and peacock draping it around her slender shoulders and quickly corrected her hairstyle, adding three pearl diadems to keep her long mane under control.

Then she entered the vestry.

Though she had expertly hid the fact that she found the idea of a marriage between her sister-in-law and Count Lalery an infamy ever since she had learned that there were talks of such a union Aredhel did her best to be happy for Victoria. Different as they were Aredhel liked her sister-in-law and, as sentimental as it was, would want her to be happy. If marrying morganatically would facilitate that Aredhel would keep her misgivings to herself. So she smiled a courteous, even warm smile as she entered the vestry. Nodding politely to both Princess Mara, whose regal behavior was as scandalous as her political behavior was adept if reports could be trusted, and Countess Lalery, whose books Aredhel had yet to get around to reading, she placed a brief kiss on her sister-in-law’s cheek. ”I apologize for my late arrival. There was some confusion concerning some wedding presents.” She truthfully stated, though her own involvement the confusion had been more to create it as an excuse for her little excursion. ”Nervous I take it?”

---

Princes Atanamir and Arien Alcedina had been untimely delayed by a peculiar revelation that someone with high clearance access to the Alcedina intranet had somehow managed to smuggle a large amount of gift articles designated for baptisms into the cargo bay of the CSM SkyMaster Strategic Airlifter carrying the wedding gifts. That little mishap had managed to delay the two young princes that, much to their surprise, had been dispatched to Fineberg.

Both Atanamir and, especially, Arien were politically insignificant both in the Imperial House of Alcedina, were neither of them had been assigned any significant tasks, and the Empire. It could appear as a critique of the marriage had Aredhel not been present. The two princelings had both dressed in the official parade uniforms of cadets in the Imperial Navy and the Imperial Praetorian Guard respectively. The only deviation from that dress code was their cloaks and their swords. The former they were wearing contrary to protocol due to their status as ambassadors of their family and the later they were not carrying against protocol in order not to be humiliating robbed of the swords at the security check points.

As they entered the Christian house of worship they quickly found their designated seats exchanging a little last minute banter about shared relatives, court intrigue and life as a VIP in the armed forces. Though they had attended the Palace of Scholastic Excellency together their acquaintance had previously been rather much peripheral but both had found in the other something to admire and praise.

[Imeriata]

"Well it does at least look a bit better than the Imerian gothic architecture of Imerbürg!" Runa said cheerfully as she looked around the outside of the large cathedral where the wedding were going to take place. The view certainly were a improvement over the dark cold month long night that held the Scanderan continent in an iron grip if Runa had to say so herself.

"I would not say so your ladyship! T'is far too warm here, heck t'is almost summer damn it!" a grumpy voice in Imerian made her roll her eyes as she turned around to the two men in the party, the first one that had spoken wore a long black tunic covered in golden decorations that vanished under the silver cuirass that he wore. The cuirass itself were made to look like a perfect imitation of a human chest with the royal monogram engraved into it. He wore a pair of knee high boots that had a very tight pair of dark blue pants tucked into them. The epaulettes he wore made him look broader over the shoulders than he were and made the already impressive man look even broader than he normally would be and his already impressive height made him look a bit scary actually.

On the older man's head could a rather remarkable tricorn be found with a massive collection of red feathers that gently moved in the wind. His face were however visible and he had chosen to leave the facemask home so that his massive blond muttonchops with their hints of grey were clearly visible and the thick walrus moustache frowned as his iceblue eyes moved disapprovingly over the entire room as his hands rested on the thick and heavy blade that hanged from his belt.

"I... I am not too sure about that my lord knight! T'is is hardly summer temperatures..." a nervous voice made Runa turn her head a bit so that the youngest person in the group came into view. As most cavalrymen did he wear two thick braids that hung over his hears to protect him from sabres in the thick of battle made from his own red hair. A large pink Czapka did however hide most of his hair and he looked a bit uncomfortable in his black and pink uniform. Of course he was young and not of very good birth so she supposed it was a bit too much for the young lancer. Especially since he were in the charge of protecting one of the most important ladies of the entire federation.

"I would have to admit that I do enjoy the idea of not having to struggle with sub zero temperatures every time I go outside!" the voice of Runa's cousin in law made her turn to the crown princess and future high queen due to her marriage with the crown prince himself.
"Why my royal princess, I thought just the same a few days ago, did I not Hälgha?" Runa said as she saw how her elven servant nodded behind her, the elf herself wore a rather simple dress compared to the very decorated and remarkable looking dresses that Runa herself and the princess wore, both of which were put to shame by the one worn by the high queen herself.

"Why my two girls, that sounds like a marvellous idea!" the voice of the older queen joined the conversation as Runa smiled brightly over the idea.
"I do believe that his royal highness second cousin once removed, the duchess of Sydvinland would be delighted by the prospect of having two respectable ladies as yourselves over for a few weeks and the temperatures are a tad bit better in the southern realms!" the queen pointed out as a somewhat doubtful expression spread over Aula's face.
"I am not sure... I thought they still dealt with the unmentionables since that gas attack last year... and I am not sure the twins would be too happy about me being gone for so long!" the princess continued as they walked past a large group of people that seemed to sing some silly native tune.
"Urgh... republicans... just a damned bunch of merchant loving scoundrels if you ask me!" the voice of the high guard knight could be heard in the back ground as the three women as friherre Fridhlef nervously let his hand move down towards his own sword, who knew what such radicals might do after all.

"Ohhh I am sure that they would not mind at all, I am even sure that they could get join you on the trip, a few servant maids, a wet nurse and double the guard from his royal prince's own army would surely make you able to enjoy the days there and keep any unmentionables at bay would the need arise, I am however very doubtful it would your royal princess though, the local regiments seems very able to hunt down the creatures in the forests and the ones caught in the open was destroyed quiet early after the first outbreak!" the queen said as she waved his hand in a dismissing manner. Which made Runa get a bit hopeful, after all she liked her cousin in law and a trip to the south seemed like a splendid idea.

"Indeed your royal princess, I am sure that... ohhh dear!" Runa said as her eyes widened in shock and she heard a shocked gasp from the rest of the party as a group of men, dressed in nothing ran past them only wearing blue paint.
"Savages!" the queen said disapprovingly as the two men behind her grunted in disapproval even if Runa had to admit that a few of them were not too bad on the eyes and with the help of her fan were she able to rest her eyes on one man in particular and hide it from the rest of the party as they passed through the crowd as quickly as they could.

"Damned savages each and all!" the knight muttered behind them as the group speeded past the nude men and for a moment could Runa see how her elven maid smiled to her with a understanding nod. Having grown up together so were the former slave more a friend than a servant and the two of them often knew what the other were thinking.
"Dear heavens your ladyship! you are positively scarlet! You should drink something before you pass out from the heat!" the worried voice of the queen made runa realise that she was blushing as they finally made their way into the cathedral.
"Yes of course your royal highness, the heat is really ghastly!" Runa said a bit guilty as she heard how the princess chuckled behind her, most likely aware what really had made her blush.

[Gehenna Tartarus]

Although Prince Hugo and Princess Marissa had been in New Edom a few times, the last being a shooting party, neither of them had been to Fineberg before. So it was with some trepidation that they had flown to the city, renowned for its naked citizens for the wedding of Count Lalery to Princess Victoria. They had met the groom at the shooting weekend and knew next to nothing about the Izzyshipper princess, even though she had attended the Mara wedding, which they had also attended. In fact, they had barely spoken to anyone during that event and they hoped they were more successful in their socialising at the current wedding.

Prince Hugo was not impressed that he had been sent to represent Her Imperial Majesty at another wedding, as he found weddings pretty boring. Even more so when he knew that they were for political gain rather than an actual love match and from what he knew about the current wedding, it was more the binding of a formal alliance than two people that actually cared for each other. It reminded him of his cousin’s forthcoming wedding to the Emperor of the Late Roman Empire. And while he felt that the two actually liked each other, he knew that it was first and foremost an alliance of the Empires rather than the marriage of two people.

His sister, Princess Marissa enjoyed weddings, whether they were for love or power. She loved the look of weddings and had already planned her own down to the last detail, all she had to do now was find the perfect groom. She had yet to meet anyone that set her heart a flutter and she was beginning to wonder if any such man existed. Her mother always told her that the perfect prince was out there for her somewhere, it was just a matter of waiting for him to come into her life, but she was eighteen and was worried that he would not find her until she had become an old maid. But she was not going to let her own lack of success spoil the fun she hoped she would have at the wedding and more importantly the reception. The part about weddings that Marissa loved more than any was the dancing.

The two were seated in their car, driving through the streets of Fineberg. The place had an odd feel, mostly because it was Free Congress controlled, which was a surprise to the siblings why a monarchist wedding was taking place outside of a monarchist controlled area. Although the two sides had found peace, there were still tensions, not surprisingly considering Prince James and King David had tried to overthrow the President and his cabinet in a bid to take over the nation. Things had not quite gone to plan and now the nation was now some patchwork mess that pretended to get along.

As the drove along, the singing filled the car, a protest at the wedding taking place in Fineberg, they supposed. The exited the car and made their way inside the cathedral, following the other guests that had arrived before them to their seats. As they walked, they looked around for any familiar faces, not really expecting to find any. The New Edomite royalty were really the only people they had met, other than President Touchstone, who they had seen rather than spoke to during the Empress’ Ball. Hopefully they would be able to rectify the situation.

Once they arrived at their seats, they made small talk, discussing the building, the other guests, and on Marissa’s part the fashion of the other ladies. They continued in this manner until the ceremony started.

[Toishima]

“Maki. What do you say when they greet you?”
“’Greetings, I am Imperial Princess Maki of the Empire of Toishima. It is a great pleasure to be here today.’”
“Good. I expect you to be on your best behavior. Do not speak unless spoken to.”
“Yes.”

Imperial Princess Kagami sighed. Her daughter’s English was still badly accented, but hopefully understandable by the other attendants. Fiddling with the chopsticks holding her tight hair bun back, the forty-year old woman continued glancing around nervously as the trio headed for their seats. Princess Kagami couldn’t stand it. There were just so many unknown foreign people out there, who knows what they could be thinking, doing, or such. Biting her lip, she reached down and looked at her blue and white kimono, hoping they wouldn’t be too out of place at the wedding. These were foreign people with their own customs, after all.

Leading the way was her husband, the Third Imperial Sibling, Imperial Prince Kaji, eagerly looking around at all of the unfamiliar faces and the exquisite architecture. He also wore a kimono, albeit a ‘male version’, with a black top and grey bottoms. A red sash was hung from his left shoulder; this signified his authority over whatever Imperial troops they came across, which was extremely unlikely. Almost the polar opposite of his wife, Prince Kaji was literally shivering with excitement. Not always were Imperial Family members welcomed to such events; he was very curious as to how such a wedding would play out.

Meanwhile, behind both adults, Princess Maki, apparently the youngest guest at the event at 15 years, walked quietly while reading a book. Prince Kaji and Princess Kagami’s only child, Princess Maki was trained from young to be the model princess. Of course, Prince Kaji kept his wife from being too protective, making Princess Maki into a strange combination of politeness, obedience and silence in public, though prone to outbursts under stress, and informality when with her friends and family members.

She wore a light green kimono, a yellow sash tied tightly around her waist, her long black hair held back with a green hair band. Reaching up to straighten her glasses, she silently recited the English phrase over and over in her head while reading her book. Failure to comply would bring shame and dishonor to the family. This event was in a foreign land, where foreign customs apply; Observe and follow, as always. Obey the elders. Speak when spoken to, remain silent when not. Attempt to socialize with others, but not too much. Use short sentences; no Japanese when speaking with foreigners. Stick close to Mother; do not wander. Maintain eye contact at all times when speaking. Do not slouch. Mother was always so particular during foreign events…

Arriving at their seats, the family sat down. Princess Kagami continued looking around anxiously, as though any of the delegates would suddenly grow a third head and consume another. This sort of irrational fear was what kept Princess Kagami in the Home Islands most of the time; at least she had power and control there. And the people at home all spoke Japanese, English was such a difficult language. While moderately fluent in it, the many pitfalls and strange metaphors always confused her.

“Kaji, how many other guests are there?”
“You’ll see. I have no idea.”
“Okay. Do you think they all speak English?”
“Most probably. What, are you going to try to speak in our native tongue?” Prince Kaji laughed softly at his own joke, which admittedly wasn’t very funny, covering his mouth politely as he did so.
“Stop joking around. I’m serious. What I’m afraid of is someone trying to talk to our daughter.”
“Nah, don’t worry. I’m sure Maki can handle herself in a conversation. Right, Maki?”

There was an awkward silence as the other guests continued to talk in the background. Finally, after what seemed like ages, the teenaged girl looked up.

“Yes.”

Prince Kaji patted his daughter on the head, earning a light push for his efforts, and then sat back down beside his wife. He began talking to his wife about the other guests and the magnificent architecture and the ‘amazing uniforms’ worn by the guards. It was a mostly one-sided conversation, however, as Princess Kagami refused to give anything but short answers and nervous comments on the other guests and the large number of soldiers in the room.

Italics= Japanese speech. English is just normal words. I hope this post is good, this is sort of a new experience for me. I have never done a strictly character-based RP on NS before, although I have tried to have a central cast of characters in military/political RPs before.

[The Shrailleeni Empire]

Queen Atchell Thrina fe Fromathra and her husband the Regent Talmar both knew that their arrival in New Edom was a statement. The Empire's relationship with the New Edomite monarchy was notoriously bleak. Although neither of them knew of the secret order that had diplomatically sabotaged their involvement with the monarchists, they did know that no effort had been made to repair that diplomatic damage after the end of the Civil War. The Shrailleeni did not make enemies lightly, and the patriarchal house of Obed was seen as no better than the barbarian warlord-kings of old Railti. However, they were still closely aligned with the government of New Edom under President Touchstone, and the new New Edomite constitution made the union of the nation quite clear.

So the Mother Empress had sent her third child and only son to the wedding, as well as his wife and third in line for the throne, as a carefully worded statement. The occasion was significant enough to merit high-ranking nobility in support of the Empire's oldest ally, but not quite honored enough to send Queen Arianna, the obvious pick considering Aryni's Matriarchal duties. More than likely no one in New Edom would see their presence for what it was. But Atchell and Talmar knew.

However, that was not enough to dampen their spirits. It was their first time in New Edom, let alone Fineberg, and they were enjoying the sights of the city and the energy of the atmosphere.

As their car drove in the procession, Talmar smiled at the sight of so many painted people.

"They are dedicated to exposure here, aren't they?" he asked his wife in Railti rhetorically. "I'm feeling the cold already, and its not even as cold as the upper mountains yet."

Atchell watched a few naked Edomites running along the crowd with quiet serenity.

"To each their own customs, I suppose. Strange to think that nakedness was once required here. I wonder what drives a people to put so much importance on clothing, or lack of it?"

"Who knows? Most nations actually require clothing, I hear. Some do not even permit the removal of upper garments."

Atchell shook her head. "What an odd thing to make law about. Imagine honorable lawmakers having such debates."

Over the general roar of the crowd, some organized chanting could be heard. It was difficult to hear, especially for two people whose English was textbook. But the sight of the protestors gave the Shrailleeni a sharpened understanding of the situation.

"So the war is not quite over for them yet," Atchell remarked.

"Nor for us My Queen," Talmar reminded her. "Especially with that anarchist business in the north..."

"Oh! I had forgotten," she responded with a surprised noise. Indeed, now that she thought about it, there were hundreds of Shrailleeni in this city. How strange to think that the world could be so unfathomably large, and yet so small.

As they approached the cathedral the crowds grew larger, as did the protesting. It was difficult to determine whether the people of New Edom found this a joyous occasion of union, or an excuse to shout in unison. Perhaps, for them, those were one and the same. The building itself was very grand, and even beautiful in an exotic way. Queen Atchell and Regent Talmar departed their car with practiced grace, the pictures of Shrailleeni self-composure that the nobility taught so well. They soon found themselves drifting serenely through a sea of colorful people from a variety of nations, amid the columns and arches of a cathedral which was perhaps more beautiful on the inside. The soldiers did not surprise them in the least, a Shrailleeni wedding would have contained at least an equal number, and they were quickly put out of mind.

They recognized few people, but knew where they would be sitting. Their presence was most important here, at any rate. Most foreign monarchies were unfortunately not matriarchal, and the Shrailleeni royal houses had little interest in knowing them. The policy made sense, but it also meant that they had little knowledge of foreign royalty. They greeted those they met on behalf of the Mother Empress, endured the occasional odd look or barely-concealed opinion, and made themselves ready to view the ceremony itself.

[The Cookish States]

The Cookish motorcade made its way through Fineberg, en route to the wedding via the precession. Senator Michael Galvez was a youngish upstart from Drainton. His black skin tone contrasted heavily with that of his white wife. He was Dengali at birth, but adopted by Hienmenian parents. On the other side of his wife, sat his slightly annoying, yet fairly attractive aide. She'd been made a favorite of the underlings by the Chancellor himself. Michael looked secretly at her long, black dress. To make amends with himself, he inspected his wife's blue gown, and touched her thigh affectionately.

Looking out of the open window, he recoiled from the cold. In Drainton, it was about fifty degrees Fahrenheit. Granted, He'd had a layover at Chugiak just seven hours ago where the temperature was nearly fifty degrees below freezing. In any case, he decided that he was outside of his natural habitat. That sentiment was strengthened by the disgusted faces in the crowd. The Cookish flag flew proudly above the sedan. Suddenly, someone threw a green beverage which splashed across the windshield like Nickelodeon slime. As the chauffeur rolled the windows up without a word, Michael rolled his eyes.

Upon arriving at the hotel, Galvez took his entourage, directly to the front desk to get their room all figured out, which was what Carla, the prementioned aide, was responsible for. After that, he sat in the lobby for some tea with his wife at a table for four by the fire, awaiting anyone to join their company.

Meanwhile, Carla came up the stairs toward the rooms. She'd get her own room, then the next one over belonged to her new boss. She gave a bellhop an admiring look and continued on. Inside the temporary domicile, she was amazed.

"Dios mio. Que..elegante. Pues, wow."

Having seen the lower levels of the Cookish Diplomatic System, she'd never been exposed to a ceremony where a black dress was considered underdressing. She'd never seen such an elegant and amazing hotel, as the last hotel she'd stayed at had cockroaches in the cupboards and drug addicts in the next room.

She laid her three suitcases on the bed as the bellhop unloaded the bags and cases of the Senator and his wife. She slipped him a tip and a wink and went back down the stairs, unsure of who she would speak to upon coming down. All she knew was that she wanted someone within her age group to talk to, she was only 20 after all.

[Radiatia]

"You know Sam, a nice trip away is exactly what you've been needing,"

Second Lady Melia Negasi chatted nonchalantly with her husband as the Vice Presidential motorcade - having been transported from the Radiatian Federation in its entirety - made its way towards Fineberg Cathedral.

"You've been working too hard, Sam. First it was the campaign, then it was all this business with you trying to ban the death penalty. You can't keep going on like this with no rest. Oh and you better be taking your medication too."

The Vice President looked out the window, rolling his eyes at her as the city went by.

On one hand she was right - he did need a break. And given that this had been his first trip aboard FEDERATION TWO - the official aircraft of the Vice President - he couldn't say he wasn't enjoying his first foreign trip as Vice President.

"Anyway, Sam. How come you're going to this wedding but young Keldon isn't?"

"Melia, I think you'll find the correct way to address 'Young Keldon' is 'Mr. President'," Said Samuel. "And the President's busy. He has an economic agenda to sort out, national security, all that business -"

"He just doesn't like weddings, does he?"

"I think 'He doesn't like New Edom' would be a more accurate statement, truth be told," Said Samuel.

Melia frowned. "You don't look happy, Sam. Are you still angry at him because of that argument you two had last week?"

The Vice President sighed. "I'm not angry at him. And it wasn't an argument, it was a gentlemen's disagreement. I want to ban guns. He's a member of the Radiatian National Rifle Association. We can't agree on everything all of the time."

Melia's brow furrowed. "I overheard your so-called 'gentlemen's disagreement' when you were having it over the phone," She said. "I've never heard of a gentlemen's disagreement that has ended with the words 'Go fuck yourself, Mr. President.'"

Samuel Negasi shrugged. "You know how I feel about guns. I get passionate."

"I wish you'd get passionate about a few other things, Sam..."

Melia looked angry for a moment, but then suddenly smiled, showing she was joking.

"Melia, please don't say anything stupid to anyone. I don't want the media finding out about Keldon and my... disagreement." He said. "Also, don't let the New Edomites know what the President has been saying about them."

"What has he been saying about them?"

"Good. That's all you need to know. Now come on, it's time to go."

---

Whilst firearms were not permitted at the venue ("And fair enough!" Samuel Negasi had thought), this did little to change the fact that armed agents of the Radiatian Special Operations Division (R-SOD) escorted the Vice President and his wife right up until the point that they were inside the building.

This annoyed the Vice President more than a little, not only due to the inconvenience and the presence of firearms, but also because he felt that arriving in New Edom - a country with which Radiatia had shaky relations to begin with - in this manner was simply impolite, or as a Radiatian would say, inefficient.

Negasi consoled himself to the fact that at least he didn't have to deal with the President's security forces. The constitution stated that the President had to be surrounded by at least four fully armed soldiers and two R-SOD agents at all times. The fact that the constitution had been written shortly after a major terrorist attack was the most likely cause for this rather over reactive clause.

The bizarre wording of the clause ("at all times") also meant that should the President ever invoke the wrath of the Supreme Court, they could order a literalist interpretation, which would involve the President being forced to go to the toilet while surrounded by four soldiers and two agents.

Negasi amused himself with this thought as he stepped inside the cathedral - itself the sort of lavish and tasteful building that would never be found in the Radiatian Federation, except perhaps in the form of a ruin that was burned down by the communists in the mid 20th century.

Vice President Negasi, despite President Silviu's harsh rhetoric regarding countries like New Edom, knew that by showing up here he could at least show that Radiatia was committed to maintaining an open dialogue with New Edom - just had the New Edomites had done when Radiatia had organised international gatherings.

Negasi smiled briefly at no one in particular - he didn't recognise anyone, though given that this was his first foreign trip it was to be expected. He and his wife took their seats and waited for the ceremony to begin.

[Izzyshipper]

Princess Victoria and Princess Isabella were sitting in the vestry, where an army of ladies were being marshalled by Isabella doing various last minute wedding preparations. As well as this, Isabella was admiring herself in the mirror, her hand travelling across the oyster grey silk of the bridesmaid dress in appreciation.

“Oh, Victoria, doesn’t it look beautiful?” The Princess asked her sister, examining her face closely for some non-existent flaw in her make up.

“It should do,” Victoria said, sitting at the desk writing with her favourite fountain pen, “You picked it.”

“I know and I have impeccable taste,” Isabella said, picking through her jewelry, “and Victoria, I love you dearly but if there is an ink stain on that dress I will kill you.”

“It will be fine,” Victoria replied calmly, finishing a sentence with a flourish, “I’m nearly finished.”

Isabella growled, “Why on earth are you doing that stupid translating work at a time like this,” she moved over to where Victoria sat and began brushing her hair.

“It’s calming,” Victoria said, wincing at Isabella’s rough efforts to exterminate any knots in her hair. “When is Anne and Aredhel getting here?”

“I sent the dresses to their rooms,” Isabella said, fastening on pearls onto Victoria’s ears.

The door opened and Anne, Duchess of Heath and Athens walked in - looking thoroughly fed up.

“Bella, this dress is rather tight,” Anne said, taking a seat.

“Oh, Annie, you look beautiful,” Isabella chirped, dancing over to her cousin.

“I am a bit old for this,” Anne said, ignoring Isabella’s habit of determinedly developing a nickname for everyone - Annie indeed.

“Nonsense,” Victoria said, smiling, “You are a fountain of youth, Anne.”

The Duchess said nothing, merely making a disbelieving noise and looking through her bag. Isabella and Victoria exchanged looks, shaking their heads as Aredhel entered, causing Victoria to break out in a relieved smile, gladly accepting the Crown Princess's kiss. "I'm fine," she said determinedly, her face a mask of serenity. In truth the Princess Royal was almost petrified with nerves, after the years of waiting it was finally her time to be married. Now the event drew irrevocably close she just had to concentrate on not making a fool of herself.

"Oh, Zôrzi, you look beautiful," Isabella said, gliding over to her sister in law, "I am rather glad it fits ... given recent news."

"Bella! Mama said not to tell anyone!", Victoria snapped in Izzyerian.

Bella rolled her eyes. While officially the reason for hiding Aredhel's pregnancy was simply because it was in its early stages, Isabella suspected the real reason came in the form of the recent figures published in the Vinera Times. The annual poll commenting on the popularity of the individual members of the Monarchy had shown (predictably) Queen Sophia at the head. Isabella had come second with Aredhel hotly on her heels at number three. It was a remarkable leap in popularity for a foreign Princess, so recently in the Izzyerian eye - one that Sophia watched closely.

No, the Queen wanted to judge the mood of Her people before she announced the news that would skyrocket the regard the Izzyerian people had for the young Princess. Isabella cared little - Edward had benefited from his wife's popularity, people where beginning to see him as a real future for Izzyshipper. That too, Sophia watched closely.

"How is Thomas?" Victoria asked Olivia, carefully placing her pen down on the table and allowing a Lady to wipe her hands clean.

~*~

Queen Sophia dismissed her ladies irritably as they began to fiddle with her hair, glad that the dressing was finished. She had went for the usual elaborate affair, a costume more than a dress. It was a billowy mass of material of the deepest blue, with rich swirls of emerald woven throughout in a pattern of peacock feathers. The peacock theme was continued with a ruff of feathers arranged around her neck and the emeralds and sapphires that hung glittering around her ears and diadem.

Edward, Prince Consort and Sophia’s husband walked in - wearing a considerably more subdued morning suit. “You look nice,” he said grinning.

The Queen laughed humorlessly, “Very Funny.” Sophia knew she looked ridiculous, but as the eyes of the Izzyerian people would be upon her she knew had to dress as they expected. To be the Peacock Queen, above human foibles as the personification of the Izzyshipper.

She shook her head, dozens on fastenings tinkling as she did so, and walked over to her desk to pick up a small folder. “Diana, this is the final draft of the Treaty, no?”

“Yes ma’am,” Diana,her personal secretary said, holding open the door.

"Very well dear," the Queen said, turning to her husband, "Shall we meet the in-laws?"

The Prince Consort smiled, taking her hand and leading her outside towards the mass of people that crowded outside the cathedral. Sophia stared at the protesters, her face unflinching at their nudity and anger, instead she smiled sweetly and waved. She nodded in greeting towards Prince James, Princess Rebecca and President Touchstone.

"Ah, your Royal Highnesses, Mr President," Sophia said, "A pleasure to meet you again. While I would not desire to sully this day too much with business, I have the final draft of the treaty for you to review. In case there is any points you would like to bring up."

The Queen handed a copy to Prince James and to President Touchstone. She smiled at Touchstone not unkindly, the Queen had heard of his poor health and while she had no qualms to use it to her advantage she had no desire to be unnecessarily cruel.

---

Treaty of Fineberg

---

Preamble

Her Most Gracious Majesty, Sophia, Queen of Izzyshipper, Sovereign Princess of Sophiana, etc etc, and His Majesty, David III, King of Edom, have discoursed and agreed with Their especial grace, wisdom and knowledge upon the terms listed below to bind their Kingdoms in such a manner.

Defence

• Upon the encroachment of any sovereign territory of the Kingdom of Edom or the Kingdom of Izzyshipper, both respective parties shall supply their armies to defend the other.
  
• Both the Kingdom of Izzyshipper and The Kingdom of Edom shall pledge to share intelligence with each other that would be beneficial for the other.
  
• That neither the Kingdom of Izzyshipper or the Kingdom of Edom shall in anyway engage in an aggressive action against each other. Nor shall they aid, abet or in anyway assist another sovereign entity to do so.
  
• No armies commanded by Her Most Gracious Majesty, Sophia, Queen of Izzyshipper and Her heirs and successors shall enter the sovereign soil or waters of The Kingdom of Edom and the Allied States without the consent of both the National Legislature and His Majesty King David and His heirs and successors.
• No armies commanded by His Majesty, David III, King of Edom and His heirs and successors or the President of the Theocratic Republic of New Edom shall enter the sovereign soil or waters of The Kingdom of Izzyshipper without the consent of Her Most Gracious Majesty.

Economics

That both nations shall agree to lower the duties and tarrifs on the following items:

Foodstuffs

• Griffon meat
• Capybara Meat
• Great Wader Meat
• Rice
• Chocolate & Confectionery
• Salt
• Carrots
• Spinach
• Milk (Cows)
• Mackerel
• Seabass
• Eel
• Almonds
• Dates
• Anchovies
• Grapes
• Refined Sugar

Industrial Services and Goods

• Refined iron
• Timber
• Ammunition,
• Refined aluminium
• Crude Oil
• Refined Oil
• Vehicle Fuel
• Jet Fuel
• Diesel
• Marine Fuel
• Refined iron
• Refined Copper
• Rubber
• Silver, Iron and Copper ore

Miscellaneous

• Gold
• Railway and Public transport development
• Jewellery & Gemstones
• Wines
• Heath Silk
• Tropical fish

• Her Most Gracious Majesty shall issue a Royal Warrant to permit Edomite developers to invest and purchase undeveloped land, mining spots and other areas of interest in the Principality of Sophiana.

Marriage of Princess Victoria and Thomas, Count Lalery

• That upon marriage, the Most High, Most Gracious, Princess Victoria shall be subjected unto the Succession Act 2012. Her Royal Highness and her heirs and successors shall be eligible to succeed to the Throne of Izzyshipper upon the condition that her, her heirs and successors are not Monarch of any other realm, first in line to a throne, or married to someone who is.
  
• That upon marriage of Her Royal Highness Princess Victoria and His Excellency Thomas, Count Lalery, Her Most Gracious Majesty shall issue Letters Patent transferring all of Her Royal Highness’s titles and properties to His Excellency, Jure Uxoris. Additionally, Her Most Gracious Majesty shall create His Excellency Prince of the Realm.
  
• That the title of Duke of Vinera and all properties of Her Royal Highness may only be inherited by heirs of her bloodline, and not by any subsequent heirs of the Count.
  
• That the House Obed shall provide Their Royal Highness’s an annuity of 1.7 Million Coppers for the duration of their marriage.

Conclusion

Let it be proclaimed, that both Their Majesties have decreed Their will thus. May all subjects under Their Majesties realms rejoice in their especial wisdom and be bound by this covenant.

Signed in the year two thousand and twelve, in the year of our Lord.

[Norvenia]

"Remind me again," growled General Gideon Steele, "why I'm going to this thing?"

Colonel Danielle Roberts all but groaned, but Tim Standish was serene, shooting the cuffs of his tailored, dove-grey morning suit. "Because, General, this is a major event in New Edomite political and cultural life. And with more than thirty thousand Norvenian peacekeepers in this country, it - how shall one say this? - it behooves us to keep abreast of such major events. To show the flag, as it were; to stay in touch."

Steele grunted and shook his head. "There are Norvenian peacekeepers showing the literal flag - the one on their body armor - all over this city. Anyone driving to this cathedral would have to have seen a dozen of them at least. We've passed three squads ourselves. I think we've made our presence known."

"Not the same," Standish replied easily, "and you know it, General." The diplomatic envoy glanced at Steele and Roberts, both in severe Norvenian dress blacks-and-whites. "Why do you two soldiers hate a wedding so much, anyway?"

"It's undemocratic," Roberts replied simply. "You know that, Tim. It's dynastic politics, plain and simple. The will of the people - let alone the desires of the couple to be married - don't even enter into it. Is it so wrong for us to find that repugnant?"

"I've heard that the Count and the Princess actually don't mind the match," Standish observed.

Steele guffawed under his breath, and muttered something about gossipy old women, which Standish serenely ignored. Roberts shook her head. "It doesn't matter, Tim. That's not the point. This is, in effect, a foreign alliance not chosen by any elected body. That's what troubles me."

"Perhaps you've forgotten, Colonel," Standish said pointedly, "but we are neutral here. We don't play sides, Monarchist or Free Congress."

"And I don't claim to be speaking or feeling on behalf of the Commonwealth," Roberts shot back. "But for me, personally, this all reeks of autocracy and inbreeding."

Standish snorted, glanced out the window at the protestors. After almost a year in Fineberg, demonstrations barely even registered with him any more. "I may not agree with you," the diplomat admitted ruefully, "but that's certainly a good line."

* * *

Steele clambered out of the Norvenian MRAP - hardly the most appropriate vehicle to arrive at a wedding in, but just months ago it had been unsafe to go out in Fineberg in anything else - unfolding his six-foot-four-inch frame from the armored door. He clapped his peaked cap on his head, and fastened the stiff, brocaded collar of his dress black-and-whites. Roberts and Standish followed, with the diplomat gracefully donning a grey top hat. Steele surveyed the scene around him.

"The ETC," he murmured, "are going to be a problem. Touchstone can't control them, and they weren't altogether happy at his return."

Standish nodded. "The Monarchists and the Free Congress moderates have made their peace," he agreed, "but the ETC aren't exactly included in that agreement. They lost on compulsory nudity, and that was a hard blow, morally and politically."

"They'd be insane to try anything," Roberts remarked. "Between the New Edomite Army and the various peacekeepers - mostly us and the Nalayans - this city is locked down tighter than a drum."

Steele gave a tight smile. "Of course," he said humorlessly, "they may well be just that."

Roberts' brow furrowed. "What?"

Steele raised his eyebrows. "Insane."

* * *

As the three Norvenians entered the cathedral, the two officers doffed their peaked caps and Standish removed his top hat. Steele craned his neck to look up at the great neoclassical columns. The Protestant reformers who had founded Norvenia had deliberately eschewed the neoclassicism of the state Roman church in favor of a rough-hewn Romanesque, a style based on smaller, cool, dark spaces in deliberately imperfect country churches, simple places of prayer and fellowship rather than monuments to human grandeur. But the result was that Steele was quite unprepared for the sight before him, and he could scarcely keep himself from gawping.

Looking back down, the general opened his mouth to say something to Standish, but discovered that the diplomat had already drifted away to work the room. With a sigh, Steele glanced around in search of familiar faces, hoping against hope to see the craggy features of Governor Abner Anthony of Teman, the closest thing to a personal friend Steele had in New Edom.

Standish had moved over to Archbishop Laudner. He bent and lightly kissed the man's ring. "Your Grace, a pleasure to see you again. I will not keep you long; I just wanted to thank you for your calming presence here today. Perhaps we could talk more some other time?"

Roberts, for her part, had drifted over to the Shrailleeni. "Colonel Danielle Roberts," she said, extending a hand, "Norvenian Peacekeeping Mission. I don't believe we've met, but I've been working for most of a year with your people on the ground here, and they are magnificent. How do you do?"

[Southern Patriots]

A letter of invitation to the wedding had come as something of a surprise initially, due in part to the fact relations had been quiet recently. But the ambassador to the Kingdom of New Edom saw the value of such social events in generating goodwill and amity. Ser Rufus Poole had been on the job only a few short months, yet he was demonstrating his worth. He talents and potential would be recognized...

A loud bump shook Rufus awake. The occupants of the limousine stared at him, and he realized he'd fallen asleep while daydreaming. It had been tiring organizing things for the arrival of the Therons due to his limited staff. And since it had been his idea.

The Duke of Delos squinted slightly, adjusting his monocle. Ser Rufus knew the man was analyzing him. In his position as Lord Governor of the Vergil Islands colony, Deon Theron was known as an analytical man, calculating and ambitious. Known, Rufus reminded himself. Seated next to the Duke was Duchess Abigail, resplendent in a dark blue gown that offset her hair splendidly. And it was she, the ambassador had silently gathered, who was the brains behind the House of Theron. Though Duchess Abigail was all endearing smiles and sweet words, she still made him wary.

Beside him sat the youngest child of the Therons, Lady Katherine. Everything her mother was in personality, Katherine appeared the opposite. Brash, inquisitive bordering on rude, and utterly unconcerned for politics or administration. Only 17, the young lady was beautiful and seemingly vapid. But behind her polite smiles Rufus sensed her mother's influence. She wore a similar dark blue dress as Duchess Abigail, but cut a little more daringly as a concession to fashion and perhaps to shine.

Ser Rufus smiled at them and looked back out the window. It had been his idea to extend the invitation to them. The Therons governed a colony in the Cornellian region, yet had interacted little with their neighbors for decades. If relations were to be built, this was the family that had to do it. Their boy Tobias was at school in Greymark now, and their heir Archibald was serving with the Legion in Nueva Val Verde fighting rebels. The Duke had welcomed a visit to get his mind off things.

Through Padan their motorcade progressed, nearing the cathedral. It was a monument to the martyred gods of Christianity, Rufus recalled. His own knowledge of the locals faiths was admittedly small. In front were the royal guards, finely assembled and adorned. And a horde of local citizens.

Many were nude.

"Fu-" Duke Delos began, but the Duchess rested her hand on his arm and gave him pause. "Bloody barbarians, Abigail. A reminder of why we have stayed apart from these... peoples."

"Husband, please. Shame the importance of this place and you shame the esteem of our ambassador." She gave Rufus a smile. He grinned back weakly.

Katherine had her face in the window and was smirking. "Why are they all naked, Ser Rufus? Has the civil war left them so poor?" Her eyes flashed and he knew she was making a jest, but Duke Delos had leaned forward and clearly did not know the answer.

Ser Rufus cleared his throat. "A religious belief, my lady. One of the causes of the constant conflict. Something about being closer to their gods through their exposure. It is symbolic, I assure you. They possess clothing for times of practicality and decency."

The Duke scoffed loudly, "They have no decency, Ser Rufus. No wonder their king has been beside himself trying to bring them back into line. One might as well attempt herding cats. No, we're well rid of such religions in our lands."

"Of course, dear," the Duchess purred. Rufus only nodded. Lady Katherine giggled a little.

Adjusting his monocle yet again, Duke Delos continued: "It is good Cecilburg has agreed to begin transporting the Fifteenth Army to the islands. With all this civil strife and... indecency, I worry for the safety of our colonists."

What about the others in Patriciastadt? The non-Southroners? Rufus thought, but did not speak. He did respond, "I had thought the Light Infantry and Civil Defence sufficient, Your Grace. They have served in the past."

"No doubt, Ser Rufus. But in these times..." Deon's voice dropped to a whisper that came across as silly rather than dramatic, "... it never hurts to be too careful. Besides, the barbarians need only think the troops are there. Scarcely a division has landed. Something to do with a mixed up timetable. The rest will be there soon enough."

They arrived and exited their vehicles, the Duke extending his hand to the Duchess and Ser Rufus doing the same to Lady Katherine. Once inside the royal Major-Domo presented them, and they set forth to meet with others. The ambassador squinted but did not know many of the guests present. He tried to see if Olivia was around... But there was no sign. He made a face and returned to his duties. Rufus intended to present the Therons in person to either the Obeds or the Izzerian royals, whichever they came across first.

Despite his fear that word of the troop movement would stir up trouble, if any of the Cornellian locals had even gotten that report they didn't show it. Duke Delos held his head high, and the Duchess and Lady Katherine gave the other guests friendly yet polite smiles.

OOC: I haven't RPed much with any Cornellian residents besides New Edom, so if anyone wants to be the first to speak with the head of my colony in the region, I would welcome it. I'd be curious to know how they might view such a colony.

[Of the Quendi]

Seeing through the white lie of the bride to be Aredhel smirked to herself. Everyone was nervous at their wedding. Aredhel distinctively remembered how jumpy she had been at hers. At some level Aredhel had always thought she was too intelligent, too knowledgeable and too independent for any imprinting to have taken root in her cold heart. She had been wrong. Much to her shock Aredhel had slowly but surely succumbed to a compelling infatuation towards her husband. It had been scary, and mightily enlightening, to watch that perfect substitute for love ingrained in her since early childhood begin to blossom independently of her reason and sense until all her subtlety and wit left her unable to tell it apart from love.

Victoria, presumably, had not been subject to such indoctrination and Aredhel had some difficulties picturing the tender and innocent Victoria enjoying marriage to a libertine like the count. Seeing the Archduchess serenely penning her translations with an almost antique instrument seemed a perfect picture of the woman, or at least one aspect of her. Had Victoria been Alcedina she would no doubt have been groomed for Proctorship so as to allow her undeniable scholarly talent to blossom. Picturing Victoria as Prince Proctor came easily to Aredhel, wife much less so. But innocence was of course a passing state of being and Aredhel had known plenty a maiden to become a lascivious creature by marriage, though that too was imprinting. The Crown Princess blushed slightly at the thought of the satisfying conclusion of her wedding.

Unphased, confident that her blush would be confused with the change in temperature from the December weather of Fineberg and the warmth of the vestry, Aredhel smiled at Isabella. While not a nickname type of person Aredhel was quite content with “Zôrzi”. Fire struck her as a suitable name, befitting of her nature. Besides “Zimril”, Jewel, would have been an utter disaster. ”It fits perfectly fine, yet.” Aredhel proclaimed in her own, still somewhat accented, Izzyerian.

It was still very new to the young woman and she was somewhat unnerved by the prospect of being responsible to another human being to that extent. Sneak trips through foreign cities would certainly be thing of the past. Once it would have bothered her, but no more. She very much wanted a child even if it would only mean falling deeper in love with her spouse as a result of projected maternal affection. As Aredhel understood the mind control programs she had been subjected to in her youth the role of maternal instincts as the seal of spousal affection was crucial, but during the course of her marriage she had warmed to the prospect. She had been secretly touched by how her husband had abandoned his previous libertine tendencies, something she could only hope Count Lalery would learn from, and so far married life had proven exciting. Making her infatuation permanent did not much scare the Crown Princess anymore.

In any case both she and her husband had worked so hard at getting their progeny, missing no opportunity to mate like rabbits. Though Aredhel could not say that she had found the work even the least bit bothersome it had been hard none the less and it would have been a folly to regret reaping the benefits now that their efforts had been crowned with success. ”Excited I trust.” She commented at Victoria’s question while her blush grew a tad more pronounced, Vanya complexion be damned.

[New Edom]

The Cathedral

Guests were free to converse among themselves as needs be; priests, choristers, acolytes, and other attendants bustled here and there. More than one lusty Baran officer or official found it hard to resist a pinch or caress aimed at the Queen's ladies in waiting as they went by, though Admiral Charles Rand's wife, Anna, slapped his hand before her could and said reprovingly, "How could you when you have me?" And it was true, his wife, her lovely dusky shoulders bared, her hair in seductive coils, her lush Baran figure challenging the silky constraints of her dress, was a lovely sight, and as his third wife he had married her entirely for being easy on the eyes and a pleasant companion; he had children as old as she. The Admiral was one of the most striking men present, his craggy features, piercing eyes and powerful body enhanced by his full dress uniform full of gold braid, decorations, the dark navy blue contrasting with the gold on his sword and the blood red of his sash.

General Zadok Hesperinus had not brought his pretty mistress with him--instead that shaggy browed man with the rough features and crude strong fingered hands was simply speaking with friends and comrades. He remarked to Admiral Rand, "You're a brave man. Almost no one of the Court is more hated here than you."

Rand chuckled. "They can bark, but my caravan moves on." he bowed as he saw various royalty and representatives coming in. He noted the air of prim disapproval from the Norvenians and was amused, the air of grandeur of the Quendi, and imagined the Tartarians almost pulling their clothes away from the lesser dynasties around them. Hesperinus looked admiringly at Princess Marissa, who looked more pretty than she did in her pictures. He had little sense of being a genuinely ugly man--and in fact had such an air of confidence and strength to him that few even noticed it.

As Prince James, Princess Rebecca, and Queen Sophia had arrived, Prince James went out of his way to have a greeting for all that had come, however brief, to make them welcome and thank them for attending. President Touchstone scanned the document, and frowned. He tapped it with his hand, and glanced at Queen Sophia. "This should say 'the Allied States'. This treaty only concerns West Bara, Lookinghaven, and Teman. Not Gloria Regis, Raith Immel, East Bara, Etruria Majora and Haran."

"I'm sure that the Queen's staff will have no issue with changing that part of the wording, your Excellency," said Prince James calmly.

Norvenia
Meanwhile, the ageing Archbishop inclined his head towards the Norvenians, and said, "I think...did we not meet before?" he looked more fragile up close, his hand withered, his hair wispy upon his head. "Concerning a matter of negotiations with the Free Congress about Raith Immel?"

The Cloister

"Thomas is fine, when I checked on him he was playing cards with the groom's party," said Olivia. "And you look very beautiful. There are guests pouring in but more still to arrive. I think this is a bigger wedding than Mara's!"

"Everyone was too busy mourning to attend mine," said Mara with a smile. "And mine was so controversial. Marriage to a Nord of all things. Did you all know i'm getting an annulment? So much for that bullshit. Anyway--" she shrugged, and inclined her head. "You must be Aredhel, I'm Mara of course, and this is my cousin Olivia."

[Annaliea]

Mark looked out the window and sighed as his sister chattered on and on about the beauty of the city. He must admit, the place was well-built, however as usual whenever his sister began to like something, he was instantly put off it. He smiled as she finally ground to a stop, obviously having run out of breath, and quickly snapped into speech before she could recover and continue.
"Mother, tell me why we are here again, we barely know the Edomites, let alone the Izzyshippers. And given the current...unsavoury... conditions here it hardly seems safe to come to this."
At this he peered out the window at a squad of annoyed looking peacekeepers.

He looked across the wide aisle of the limousine at his mother, who of course was dressed to impress. She smiled serenely and tutted at Mark, treating him almost as if he were still a child of ten.
"Mark, dear, the very fact that we don't know them means that we should be doing this, it is for the good of Annaliea, and who knows, you might even find yourself a girlfriend... finally."
Continuing to smile, she popped open a container of Turkish Delights and placed one gently into her mouth, savouring the flavour. Olivia burst into the conversation once more, her patience obviously having worn thin.
"I think it's a great idea to come, I find weddings so romantic, I can hardly imagine not going to one."
Mark stared at her and sighed, finding it hard to believe that this was a well-educated girl of nineteen. He shook his head slightly and relaxed his head against the window of the car once more, allowing the monotonous drone of his sister lull him to sleep.

Suddenly Mark was jolted awake once more when the limousine pulled up outside the cathedral. Rolling his eyes, he carried out the obligatory clothing checks that his mother expected of him, before opening the door and stepping out into the bright morning. The roar of the crowd crashed into him like one of the waves of the Annaliean coast, and drowned out anything else in the world. Once his mother and sister had followed him out of the car, he began walking towards the cathedral, mentally comparing it to walking the pyschological gauntlet of anti-monarchism. He personally believed that Annaliea struck the perfect balance between political choice, and monarchistic guidance, however he supposed it helped that his father was seen as a parent to most Annalieans, not an Emperor.

He finally reached the entrance to the cathedral, after shaking a few hands and smiling in a friendly manner towards the multiple protestors, who he took great pleasure from them when they glared angrily back. He stepped into the cathedral and instantly looked up at the soaring ceiling, taking in the beautiful architecture. Suddenly he realised that his sister wasn't talking, and after looking back, saw that she too was amazed by what he thought must be true art.

He allowed his mother to step in front, and they progressed through the crowd of numerous dignitaries and royalty, stopping to shake hands and converse as they went. He flung himself into this task, and though he did not enjoy it, he comforted himself by thinking that soon it would all be over.

[Izzyshipper]

Sophia flicked through the Treaty, a little annoyed that Touchstone had noticed. She had expected as much yet the disappointment of a plot foiled always stung a little. The Queen had no desire to send aid to the areas controlled by the Free Congress, to aid anti-monarchists in their control of the land. She took a pen from her bag, scribbling a note on the back and gestured to a Lady in Waiting.

“Alicia, take this to Diana and tell her to make the corrections, reprint the treaty. I want it done within the hour, please, and by the very beginning of the reception at the latest.” Sophia said, handing the document to the girl.

“Yes, Ma’am,” Alicia said, looking a little despondent. The Queen’s ladies where hardly famed for their virtue and she had been rather hoping to dangle just in reach to the Baran officers. Not too close to be considered improper but certainly not so far away to be out of reach.
“Well, if you are satisfied, your Excellency,” Sophia said, an eyebrow raised, “I shall make my leave. The Queen must be seen to mingle.”

Nodding to the Prince Regent and his wife, she left their company to seek out someone to talk to. She noticed Queen Helena and Princess Aula and smiled, she would have to seek them out at some point. The Sophian colonies where proving rather successful and she would like to inquire on the Imerian’s own progress. She noticed – unless she was mistaken - Ser Rufus, a man of Southtron extraction, looking as though he was trying to catch her eye. Making her way over, she smiled warmly.

“Ah, your Graces, Ser Rufus, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Sophia said, “We have heard much of your land but have little reason to make your acquaintance. It seems that we have a rather satisfactory excuse now.”

~*~

“Annulment?” Isabella said to Mara, shocked. As one, the three Izzyerian Princesses – Anne, Isabella and Victoria - exchanged looks of shock. Any daughter of the House Maddox had been told since birth that marriage was irrevocable; Divorce or annulment was something that the Queen would never consent to. “Well,” Isabella said, recovering quickly, “I suppose that just means me and you are going to be two single girls – we can cause all sorts of trouble together.”

Victoria – ever the naïve maiden – had more difficulty hiding her surprise, “I am so sorry,” she said, although she suspected that Mara wasn’t. From what she had heard of the heiress’s husband it had been a match of opposites. She pushed away the thought that it nor unlike her own upcoming nuptials – Victoria had enough nerves to deal with without such thoughts.

The Duchess of Heath and Athens regarded Aredhel curiously; she had heard much about the young woman from Princess Aleera and had somewhat been responsible for her marriage to the Crown Prince Edward. She supposed the Archduchess knew of her involvement, from what she had picked up Aredhel had quite some influence in the House Alcedina.

“Has the Imperial Regency Council been informed about your … condition?” She asked in Quenya, her accent still very pronounced and her words where stilted. As ambassador to Arman she still found it quite difficult to follow conversations that were not in English – she suspected only a native could ever say they mastered the language. “I believe Her Majesty has drafted her own letter to inform them – but she has not yet sent it.”

[Of the Quendi]

Greeting Princess Mara with a polite curtsy and a quick; ”A pleasure your royal highness”, Aredhel did not as much as flinch as the Princess casually dropped her bomb. Aredhel had known that something of the sort was under way and was thus more surprised that the princess would choose a wedding to make such a controversial announcement. If Aredhel was Queen of Izzyshipper such news would certainly have made her question the value of Victoria’s marriage when a sacred union could so easily be dissolved.

But though Aredhel’s family was no doubt even stricter than House Maddox when it came to the sanctity of marriage, the Crown Princess was not much perturbed by Mara’s news. In fact she was a little jealous. Even if she had no desire to terminate her marriage she would have liked to have been able to do so should she so desire it. But in that regards the Crown Princess had no illusions. All her cunning and schemes would not elude a death sentence from being swiftly and mercilessly carried out by her Elders where she to try such a thing.

Smirking at Isabella’s witty response and Victoria’s very bridal one Aredhel’s thoughts, interrupted only by a brief picturing of what trouble Isabella and Mara could cause together, went a very different path. ”My condolences. How is his royal highness taking that? And what of your family?” She asked.

Noticing the Duchess of Heath and Athens observing her Aredhel turned and flashed the ambassador a quick smile. She was grateful towards the Duchess for the role she had played in Aredhel’s nuptials and the, hopefully, calming impact the woman had on Aleera. Hearing the Duchess try her luck with Quenya Aredhel was quite impressed. Most ambassadors to Aman stayed clear of that tricky language preferring the easier vernacular languages of Sindarin or Sovâl Phâre. Quenya, the language of the highborn and scholars or those seeking the emulate one or the other, was not for children. Juggling complex concepts such as Quenyaqetsa, Parmalambë and Tarquesta, Tengwar and all the other vexing linguistic elements devised by an elite jealously guarding its language called for a sharp mind.

”I suspect they have, though not by me.” Aredhel replied in the same language. Though keeping her pregnancy secret, even from the future family members of noble birth in the vestry, struck her as odd Aredhel went along with her mother-in-law’s wish, even though she didn’t understand the reason behind it. It never occurred to her that her approval ratings, which she was very proud of, had anything to do with the matter. Though she had promised herself that she would become more popular among the Izzyerian people than her own, that had been a vanity on her path rather than something she believed she would much benefit from. Power and popularity in her experience where mutually exclusive and she much preferred the former. ”Two of my Quendi handmaidens, one of the Izzyerians ones and the secretary of my gynecologist are on the payroll of the Imperial Inquisition.” She nonchalantly declared. ”There is also a page boy, though he doesn’t know anything.” She added.

---

”I expect that my prince shields me against any such unsavory advances.” Arien giggled at Atanamir observing how one of the strangely archaic Edomitte officers in the church pinched some lady not far from the two princes. Atanamir chuckled amused. ”I shall guard milady’s virtue with my life. For if I entrusted the task to your ladyship’s noble sister surely the fate that would befall any ungallant gentlemen would be too severe for any improvement of Amano-Edomitte relations ever to take place.” He reiterated, receiving a girly giggle in return.
He noticed that Arien looked exceptionally pretty when she giggled. Though truth be told she did so most of the time. Olive skinned and with a shapely body she was not as Vanyarine as the more senior branches of the Imperial House of Alcedina, yet despite her dark skin color her complexion was translucent enough and her form though shapely was not without elegance and grace. Even her imperial portrait was a beautiful depiction.

Blushing a tad as Atanamir seemed to gaze at her a little longer than proper Arien looked away. ”It seems there is still some time until the ceremony starts, perhaps we ought to socialize with our peers?” Arien suggested, rising from her seat. Atanamir, rising with her, nodded the little glitch of protocol already forgotten. ”A splendid idea. When the elders send unmarried teenagers to foreign weddings one would need to be a brave fool to return home without having talking to some eligible matches.” He admitted. Arien, ignoring that comment, nodded. ”I thought I heard someone speak Japanese, I think I will go practice mine with them. Now that the war is over I don’t often get to use my Japanese anymore.” She stated, curtseying the prince in goodbye. But as she looked up again he had taken a step towards her. Thunderstruck she silently received a quick, but tender, kiss on her forehead. ”Your Imperial Highness.” Atanamir, sarcastically, bid her farewell with a bow.

Arien, who despite not having the Vanya complexion was blushing quite a bit, strolled towards the delegation from Toshima pondering if she was still able to speak halfway decent Japanese. Or at least that was what she tried to think about, a certain kiss kept leaping into her mind uninvited. ”Konnichiwa.” She greeted them with a deep curtsey, after rejecting a military salute despite her uniformed state. By a rather unfortunate coincidence the Quendi military salute was often confused for the Heil Hitler, which was not a way most people enjoyed being greeted. ”Forgive my intrusion your Imperial Highnesses.” Arien continued in a Japanese that was both accented and not entirely correct but certainly understandable. ”Would I be correct in assuming that I am addressing his Imperial Majesty, the Tenn ō ‘s brother, Imperial Prince Kaji and his wife and daughter?” The young princess struggled.

After leaving Arien Atanamir wandered a bit around in the church not feeling particularly inclined to strike up conversation with random strangers regardless of how dignified their station. He thought for a moment to speak with the Shrailleeni but decided against it allowing that it would be better for Arien to talk to them given their religious beliefs. Remembering how his sister had spoken warmly of the Tartarians he thought to introduce himself to them, but they seemed to prefer to talk amongst themselves. Finally he settled on the Annalieans. Though Atanamir knew next to nothing about that country or its royalty they seemed approachable enough and should he offend them at least they weren’t vital to any of his family’s schemes. That he knew of.

Swooping into the line of people that the Annalieans had decided to greet on their way in Atanamir shook their hands per western fashion resisting temptation to kiss the hands of the ladies and bow before the gentlemen as he was raised to do. ”Atanamir i Maia, how do you do?” He introduced himself, in a fashion so western that it almost made him question his birth. ”Their Imperial Highnesses, the Empress of Annaliea and princes Mark and Olivia I presume?” He added to get just some proper formality in place in case anyone was watching.

[Southern Patriots]

Izzyshipper

Adjusting the bow on his three-piece suit, Ser Rufus almost failed to mark the approaching of the Queen of Izzyshipper. Lady Katherine Theron did not, and the young lady gave a small curtsy in such a smooth and flowing manner as to make a good impression. Both the Duke and Duchess showed their own polite acknowledgements with a bow of the head and curtsy, respectively. Poole made haste to do the same and conceal his being caught off-guard.

"May I present Her Highness the Queen," he said formally while bowing his head again. The title was in terms more traditional, that the Duke and Duchess would be familiar with. "Your Highness, the Duke and Duchess of Delos, and their daughter Lady Katherine Theron."

Duke Deon Theron did not smile, but he seldom seemed to. He did, however, bear an expression of grave seriousness of the meeting as he said, "A singular honour, Your Highness. Our meeting has been some time in coming, and it is a mark of good fortune the Vergil Islands have not negatively gained your attention. Ser Rufus has told us much of the Izzerian and Egonite-"

"Edomites, Father." Lady Katherine interjected with a sly smile. The Duke coughed once and adjusted his monocle. "Yes, quite. Edomites."

The Duchess took a slight step forward. "My husband, His Grace, has decided the time has come that we be more than oft-quiet guests in the region of our Cornellian neighbors." With a flash of eyes and a genuine smile, she said: "Through friendship our peoples may avoid the misunderstandings and prejudices that seem to have troubled the region so consistently."

While Rufus was mentally sifting through that, he tried to ignore the quick look the Duke shot him. The use of "Highness" for a foreign ruler was, strictly speaking, not permitted, but he did not want to seem to give offense. If the Foreign Office took note then they would understand with the reinstatement of the Grand Ducal titles at home the foreign game had changed. Certain courtesies need be observed, lest all his diplomatic work be for naught.

Lady Katherine smiled at the Queen to gain her leave to speak. "Forgive me, Queen Sophia, but I must remark how beautiful your dress is. I feel but a peachick in your presence." She giggled and blushed.

[Annaliea]

At the arrival of the Quendi Prince, Empress Elizabeth smiled and curtsied. Princess Olivia giggled and did the same, while Prince Mark simply nodded and bowed slightly. After finishing the obligatory motions, smoothly affirmed his introductions.
"Yes, I am the Empress, and you are also correct in assuming that these are my children, Mark and Olivia. And please do not worry about formality, I doubt there is anyone who cares enough to comment who is nearby."
Olivia interrupted and smiled serenely, attempting to make herself look as beautiful as possible without her attempts being noticable. Of course she was rather pretty, with long brown hair and a fair complexion, all of which was emphasized by a simple white lace dress. She fluttered her long eyelashes, which covered a set of pale blue eyes and began to speak.
"A pleasure to meet you Atanamir, how are you on this fine morning?"

Mark glanced at the Quendi Prince briefly, before returning to staring at the beautiful architecture of the cathedral. In his opinion such art should always be admired, whether or not it belonged to you or to someone else. Bringing his gaze down to the crowd, he smiled as he watched the numerous men and women of high birth mingling with eachother, mostly behaving in a proper, formal fashion, but here and there teasing and even pinching eachother. He chuckled, yet somehow felt slightly sad that he did not have someone to do so with as well.

As Olivia waited for the Quendi to reply, she grinned and inwardly prepared polite and funny comments. She had always been a romantic, to the point of annoyance in the opinion of her family. Of course she had Recieved a thorough education, so she knew the unlikeliness of true love, especially in her position as royalty, where it was more than likely she would be married off to some alliance prospect of Annaliea. However that usually increased her desperation to find someone who she could love and like.

[Wielkilas]

Grand Duchess Izolda and her dear friend Fleur Dumas approached the classically inspired cathedral. It was Izolda’s first official visit to New Edom since her father, Stanisław VI had abdicated in her favor and she was quite struck with what she saw. A nation still very much divided and full of naked protesters. She had seen things on the news about New Edom but had not had an opportunity to visit the war torn nation until now. Her father told her stories of the Edomites fighting each other during his reign and she had never quite realized what he had been speaking about.

Before stepping lightly into the building Fleur tilted her head slightly in the direction of some of the naked protesters and put her hand up to Izolda’s ear and whispered. “You see that blonde woman over there?”

Izolda turned her head slightly to see who her friend was talking about, “What about her Fleur?”

“Well Izzy, do you see her nipples? Those things should be registered as deadly weapons by whoever does that sort of thing around here.”

Izolda held in a giggle and gave her friend a stern look, “Behave yourself Fleur, were at a wedding. A royal wedding.”

Fleur covered her mouth to suppress a laugh that escaped her mouth. If Izolda had not quoted the line from the film Not at My Wedding, Mister then she would have been able to step into the cathedral with a more reserved expression. “Okay Izzy, I’ll be good.”

As the two good friends stepped into the cathedral one could see that they had made an effort not to usurp the bride in the manner of their attire. Izolda wore an elegant saffron gown with silver embroidery around her bosom and waist and a low cut back. Her hair was carefully styled in a very modern and regal updo and she wore no more than a single large blue sapphire around her neck and a pair of sapphire and diamond earrings. Fleur, of course, could not have matched the bride in the cost of her attire even if she had wanted to as she had very stubbornly refused to accept any sort of gift from Izolda for the wedding. Her attire consisted of a strapless lilac dress and a faux underbust corset which displayed a black and lilac floral design and pushed up her bosom slightly.

After a few polite smiles and short greetings, the two women found their seats and sat down. Izolda leaned in and whispered into Fleur’s ear. “I can only imagine what my predecessors Jan IV and Ania II would have done to this building.” Fleur whispered back almost immediately, “They would have probably burned it to the ground like they did anything that even remotely resembled Roman architecture.” Fleur then looked around at the other assembled guest and then back at Izolda, “Do you think that Princess Mara will be here? I didn’t get much of a chance to speak with her the last time we met. She seems like an interesting person.” Izolda simply shrugged, “I can’t be entirely certain, but it would make sense if she were.” She thought for a moment, “She does seem like an interesting individual Fleur.”

Fleur grinned at Izolda and gave her a gently nudge with her elbow, “Do we have a crush on a princess my dear Izolda?” The Grand Duchess nudged her friend back, though a little less gently, “I wish you wouldn’t tease me like that Fleur. You know I do not go for that sort of thing.” Fleur continued to grin, but could not help feeling a slight pang in her chest at her friend’s words.

[Late Roman Empire]

Perhaps because they were less conspicuous than some of the more typical parties, not being royals (the Emperor had traveled far too much lately and simply couldn't be spared, as much as he would like to be....he had his own wedding coming up, anyway), the four Romans in their party, surrounded by their attendants, entered without much apparent fanfare, greeting the Royal Major Domo with proper respects (as indicated by the information collected in advance by Count Marcellinus through his very helpful wife Basilina).

Seeing the Edomites first, Count Marcian and the Imperial Relief Officer Felicia Galeria walked behind Count Marcellinus and Basilina, but only on this occasion, as it was the duty of the Legate to present his superior, the Master of Offices, to the rulers of Edom, both Monarchist and Congressional alike. The men prepared to salute and the women to curtsy, as none of them were clarissimi. All were spectabiles, the next rank down on the Roman social ladder. Not that it mattered as much as an outside observer would think. Despite being a spectabilus, Count Marcian was actually second only to the Emperor himself in power. Social distinctions in themselves were never allowed to supersede merit in terms of giving one authority and respectability. They mattered, but merit mattered more, well, merit and imperial favor. That last counted most of all.

"Your Highness, Mr. President, allow me to present my superior, Rufus Lacterius Marcianus Comes, Magister Officiorum, and Felicia Galeria, our Imperial Relief Officer with the Cornellian Peace Organization. You know my wife, Basilina, of course. Congratulations to Count Lalery on his wedding, of course. May God bless him and Fortune favor him," the Legate saluted them, as did Count Marcian, while the women curtsied.

[Izzyshipper]

Sophia smiled at Katherine, surely she must be joking? The Queen felt like some sort of clown, but perhaps Southtron fashion went for that sort of thing. "Ah, but my Lady, I am but an old woman," The Queen said, winking, "While you have the bloom of youth - surely a far more beautiful mantle than any mere earthly creation."

Turning her attention to the Duke and Duchess of Delos, Sophia's keen eyes and conspiring mind noted that the Duke seemed rather ... dull witted. Indeed, the Duchess seemed to be the engine that drove him and his mouthpiece. "Indeed your grace, I myself have strived during my reign to weave a tapestry of alliances and friendships. Alone, a twig will snap, together it is unbreakable." Sophia said, gesturing with her hands. She had a mischievous thought, wondering if she should test her theory on the Duke of Delos.

"Tell me your grace," Sophia said, looking directly at the Duke, "What are your opinions on the establishment of international relations as a means to ensure to safety of your realm?"

~*~

Anne nodded, unsurprised, "I thought as much - it seems if you wish to hear a secret you must only keep your ears open in the Court of Arman." The Duchess of Heath and Athens also knew about the real reasons for keeping Aredhel's secret. As one of the Queen's most trusted advisers, she had a rather enviable access to the Sovereign. She remembered once, when the Queen was in one her more melancholic moods, Sophia had remarked "There is safety in an heir; There is also danger."

Sophia knew that Edward's unpopularity had been a powerful incentive for her ministers to keep her on the throne, there had been security in that fact. Yet as her son's popularity rose, so did the danger of Sophia being seen as a relic of the past; a obstacle rather than an asset. However, Anne knew that Sophia also loved her son very much and had grown quite fond of Aredhel and believed the Queen would soon grow content when she had her grandchild in her arms.

Dismissing such musings from her mind, lest she grew grey with worry she instead began clipping the floral piece to her hair, making the final preparations before the bride's walk.

[New Edom]

The Cathedral

Touchstone was irritated by Sophia simply walking away like that. He glanced at Princess Rebecca and Prince James, and Rebecca gave a sardonic quirk to her mouth, but didn't say anything--Touchstone looked ready to hit someone and that would be bad, since James would have to hit him back, and then--

"Ah, Count, my pleasure..." said Prince James bowing, "So delighted that you could come. And thank you on behalf of the Count and the rest of our family. And it is a pleasure to meet all of you face to face."

"We are so delighted, yes," said Rebecca warmly. "So very kind."

"I am glad, a wedding is an excellent opportunity for union and encouragement of peace," said President Touchstone, inclining his head politely. As he spoke thus, a group of senior Free Congress leaders--Sarah and Stephen Carmel with their oldest son Gareth and their younger daughter Ruth, Dr. Elizabeth Salt, General Martin Benajah, Vice-Admiral James Button. They were all painted beautifully.

Sarah Carmel, Stephen and their family were all wearing 18th Century clothing as paint--an azure blue coat with gold buttons and borders, white hose, light green breeks, their only actual clothing apart from Sarah's small handbag their fine buckled shoes.

General Benajah and Admiral Button were each wearing a painted version of full dress, which was so intricately done (as were all the paint jobs) that they actually resembled clothing; their only garments their boots and swords. Like nearly all members of the Free Congress, they were in good shape and so a close examination made them look good.

Dr. Elizabeth Salt was wearing a delicately arranged paint-suit which resembled a white lace gown with floral patterns, her fair hair tumbling in artful waves to her shoulders. It was impossible though with a bosom like hers for her to maintain an illusion of being dressed; while shapely, well built and in good shape, her breasts bounced freely as she moved.

The Vice-President and others were not present--they were rarely all in the same place at one time, certainly not in a venue like this. There were polite somewhat frosty bows between the FC leaders and the Monarchists.

The Cloister

"It...was not really Prince Heinrich's true desire to marry me," answered Mara. "I'm glad that we had the opportunity to heal the differences between our countries, but the marriage was not to be. I believe that I have learned a lot and I am prepared to do my duty again--and I'm hopeful of a better match this time." she blushed slightly but met the Quendi princess' gaze directly.

[The United Territory of Earth]

The Royal Caravan of 3 limousines came to a slow stop in front of the Cathedral. The first limousine carried the President and his spouse, the second would carry the Supreme Minister and his spouse, and the third was to allot room for assistants of the Royal Caravan; the Presidents Secretary and the Chief of Military. The limousines all stopped simultaneously, with the Presidents limousine being the one located directly in front of the Cathedral steps. The Chief General, Pamela Anderson, rushed out of her limousine in her noble guards attire, to open the door for the president. The Secretary followed the Chief General coming out much more slowly and lackadaisically. In his sleek black suit, he would act as a makeshift royal security service agent, as his goal for the night would be to observe the guests and ensure the President and Supreme Ministers safety. This would certainly be a tedious task, as no lethal firearms were permitted within the reception.
The Chief General Opened the door for the president and bowed as he and his wife exited the limousine, waving to the crowd which now only consisted of civilians, guards and a few intimidating militia men in the distance. The President heard faint chants of the rebel song of freedom. He snickered to himself, thinking if this were any of his people, there would be many severed heads to be collected by the sanitation departments the next day. The Prime Minister opened his limousines door in an agitated way, feeling unappreciated. He and his wife quickly came to the side of the president, as they were lead by Chief General and stalked by the Presidents Secretary up the stairs of the Cathedral.

The Chief general receded to the back of the group, and came next to the secretary. The group, now lead by the president and his wife who were locked in arms, led the way in to the Cathedral. Almost every member of the group, except for the 2 leaders optimistic wives who were excited for the wedding, were all depressed as homeland war situations in the United Territory of Earth were becoming worse. As the group walked in to the Cathedral, the Prime Minister and President now grouped together, to go converse in more "manly" discussions or more matters of diplomacy, and the women went to go socialize with other foreign leaders and delegates. At this same time, the Secretary slipped out of site to begin scanning all of the guests for a potential threat to the President, and the Chief of Military accompanied the 2 men as their official guard.

[Arbites]

Exactly what a representative of the Imperium was doing at the wedding was anybody's guess. Edomite backlash after the first war with Adiron had led to the expulsion of Imperial diplomats for nearly a decade. The New Edom embassy only reopened after it was revealed Adiron engineered the Overhauser War, and even this was more a symbolic retaliation against Adiron than genuinely normalizing relations between the two countries. Trade was almost nonexistent owing to embargoes and public boycotts, while the heavily Christian nation was wary of having anything to do with a perceived hostile Magi power.

Only the events of the past year had really resulted in any measurable change. The Imperium provided financial support to the Monarchists during the latest civil war. The Inquisition had hoped to direct the course of the conflict to the Imperium's advantage, but failed miserably. In the end, however, the Monarchists ended up in control of most of the country's population, with Adiron essentially abandoning the Free Congress. Even if they didn't trust each other, the Imperium and the Edomite royal family at least had each others' ear.

Ambassador Jacob Lee was not privy to any of it; the way the Imperium ultimately (if inadvertently) thwarted the Adiran base deal, the Inquisition's involvement with the Monarchist conspiracy, the botched counterintelligence operation, none of it. That was all need-to-know; should he ever find out, Lee would likely find himself reassigned and out of the country so fast his head would spin. All he knew was that the Imperium's relationship with the royal family was quite a bit more comfortable than with Touchstone's Free Congress. He'd been in the country long enough to hazard a guess as to why: the latter's involvement with the dangerous cult known as the ETC. Even now, ETC partisan fighters remained a threat to many throughout Free Congress territory. The singing was evidence enough.

As far as Jake knew, his attendance at the wedding was part of the Imperium's continuing effort to repair its international image. However, his thoughts as of late had been distracted by flying Samantha in for the occasion. The two had agreed, their children must not be exposed to New Edom's moral failings, as much as they hated being apart and depriving them of their father. As the car made its way through the procession, he noticed his wife trying, and failing, to ignore one of New Edom's more public and infamous of those failings: indecency. "I really do wish they'd put some clothes on. I mean honestly, if the rest of us can make the effort to be presentable..."

Jake couldn't help but smile. She'd agonized over going to a royal wedding, practically biting his head off for not giving her enough notice. Lee figured a month was plenty of time, but he couldn't guess what went through a woman's mind sometimes. Untold hours likely went into her choice of a long indigo off-shoulder dress. He didn't want to know how much time, and presumably money, went into her blonde hair as well. Meanwhile, the Edomites were showing up stark naked. "To them this is presentable. Remember they're not Magi."

She rolled her eyes, unconvinced. "Anybody should know better than that. Look at them!" A look of horror appeared on her face, before she asked "They won't...they won't be in the wedding, will they?" Jake wished she would stop judging the unbelievers as Magi; what indication was there that they knew better? He decided to tease her. "Didn't you hear? The traditional attire of the groom and father of the bride is full nudity." She hesitated for just a second, before trying to pretend he hadn't fooled her. "That's not funny."

The pair made their way into the cathedral proper, trying to locate their seats. A few of the guests seemed a bit...off. To Sam's astonishment, the Free Congress savages indeed showed up naked. Jake knew it was likely a very deliberate choice on their part, tensions between the two civil war factions were still high despite playing nice for the camera. More strangely, a few appeared to have had plastic surgery to lengthen their ears to a point. Some of these were strange cultures indeed.