To Play the Queen (Closed, TG Queries Please)

[New Edom]

4 Days Earlier, Fineberg, New Edom

King James II was borne through the rain washed streets of Fineberg, his ruined body now ashes in a great urn inside a symbolic coffin of dark polished teak and gold, followed by the members of the Royal Family and Government. Mara had been grateful for the rain. The family members present were variously frightened, defiant, brave, and solemn as they contemplated what their own fate might be. In the past several years they had had two Kings die—one, King Mark, had his plane made to crash by EIO terrorists; more recently Communist Damoclean suicide bombers had destroyed Betharan Palace. Anyone in the crowds might be a suicide bomber. Anyone could be an assassin. There was still a taste of ashes in the air. Non-ceremonial soldiers—Perrin’s soldiers—were everywhere, alert and tough looking, and hidden from view, among the crowds, hidden in buildings or on top of them, sitting watching viewing screens in secret rooms, the Council Police. Sallow faced chain smoking Sidney Harcourt’s boys and girls in black.

For Mara, this had been simply a time of enormous grief, and she was blind to danger. Above all people on Earth she loved her father, who had always understood her, always tried to do his best by her, always loved her back. Now he was gone, and what she dreaded had come to be—she was Queen before she was ready. Not Queen of a whole country she could easily step into the saddle of, not even a troubled country, but one barely held together. It was more held together by the blundering madness of its enemies that kept threatening the whole rather than trying to fragment it by divide and conquer than by anything else. While it was to be hoped that her maternal cousin, General Perrin Pahath-Moab, could hold the country together through force of will and military strength, no one really had since the end of the reign of King Joseph V who reigned from 1898 to 1932. Since then religious and tribal strife had troubled the Allied States, making them vulnerable to foreign intrigues. And so the thought [i]I am not yet ready was constantly in the young Queen’s thoughts.

“Look at them,” said her cousin, Count Thomas Lalery, when they had arrived at the Cathedral and were dismounting from their wet-smelling horses, her own Smoke, a grey Andalusian, shaking a sodden braided main, showering them with horse smelling water. “Look at the people.”

Mara looked lifting a hand in greeting, and saw a horde of solemn faces beyond the barricades of Royal Cavalry Guards. No jeering, no signs. This was Fineberg, Edenist and End Times Church territory still, and though there were people holding up icons or crossing themselves there were many more who stood, naked and sleek with rain, watching them. What did it mean? When she lifted her hand many of them bowed, but she was not fooled. This was not necessarily adulation; they were being polite. New Edomites were a polite people, and a murderous people. A barbaric people.

She saw a woman perhaps her own age, very Anglo-German with her vivid red hair and freckles, her fair skin pale with rain, hugging two small children, a boy and girl to her, and Mara wondered what the woman was thinking. The blue eyes caught hers a moment, and the woman ducked her head in a graceful bow. Mara managed a small smile at her, giving her a nod, and went into the cathedral to hear the final rites for her father...[/i]

And now, she felt no more ready. She had had several conversations with Perrin, who had reassured her; she had talked with other members of the family who urged her to back the Monarchy taking greater political control. With the National Legislature all dead or scattered, with the Free Congress pushed aside by the bloodless coup of her cousin, with her cousin the leader of the military interim government, it was time. She ought to marry General Perrin Pahath-Moab, secure the throne. With war with Damoclea about to start, it would be popular, would restore the Monarchy to the time of King Josias II, that great reformer, only without the harshness of his son Mark that had started all the troubles.


The Coronation

The Royal Cavalry 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.

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.

Mara looked up into the eyes of her mother, Rebecca, the Dowager Queen, who still looked very attractive and more calm than a grieving widow ought to look. Was she really grieving? It was impossible to tell, but she returned her mother’s embrace. There had been a coolness between them over the last year; it had not thawed.

“I will be going to our resort in New Azura following this,” said Rebecca quietly. “I think it would be best if I were out of the way.”

Mara’s mouth twisted a bit, but she nodded. “I agree, mother,” she said, “And you’ll need the time to…grieve.” She looked her mother directly in the eye, and her mother nodded, a faint smile appearing, showing the lines of her face a moment.

And then her mother was stepping away; Mara was to be formally dressed. She was permitted, nay encouraged to weep as three hooded and cowled women she did not know removed every item of clothing and jewelry from her. Her jewelry was given to a priest who was blind, and placed in a silver dish to be distributed to the poor. It was not hard to weep, for a sapphire ring her father had given her was among them. She had worn it on purpose though--it was important to wear things that you would genuinely feel the loss of, for to be the ruler was to grieve as well as rejoice. Her hair unbound and everything from stockings to undergarments taken to be burned. Her former life had passed away. The air touched her, her bosom rose and fell nervously and she felt the gaze of others upon the curve of hip and thigh. Dark hair unadorned fell to her bared shoulders. Her hands moved only slightly, a faint impulse to cover but instead crossed just beneath her navel.

In the presence of these hooded and cowled women, she was inspected by three priests, a Baran, a Haranese and a Cornellian according to custom. They walked around her, looked at her from head to toe, and she felt her cheeks flame hotly. It was not as though she'd never been naked in front of others before, but the ancient phrase As naked as thy subjects was deeply brought home to her. "There is no blemish or stain upon this woman," she heard the eldest, the Haranese, say solemnly. According to the ancient laws, no one deformed, no one with an inherent disease, lesions, warts, tumors, and no one who was too fat to stand easily on their own nor so fragile that they could not could be crowned. (it was another matter if you aged while ruling)

Mara was then comforted in her weeping by her three new ladies in waiting. Susanna, Countess of Ashkelon, Chelsea Baroness of Levin, Acte Countess of Cinna. They dried her tears, and led her to a bath where she was immersed and washed. The bath was chilly, and her teeth were chattering when they rinsed her and dried her.

Her own family welcomed her back, by giving her new clothing. A soft linen shift descended over her body; a gown made from the same weave and cut as that of Adah I was put onto her and laced; it was embroidered with patterns of wings, beaks, waves, eggs, leaves, and lined with precious stones of ruby and emerald, and then around her went a veil and cloak of beaten gold and silver coins. It was all increasingly heavy, and she found herself missing her nakedness.

Her cousins drew their swords. Prince Eliah, Count Thomas, Prince Enoch, to lead her into the Cathedral to bring her to the Patriarch of New Edom, and she followed with solemn step; outside the doors she could hear the Archbishop hearing the plea of the people from a child (one of the Fineberg Children's Choir) saying into a microphone, "Holy Father! There is no one to take the place of good King James who has been slain! We ask that you pray that we should have a rightful ruler over us in God's name."

"You look amazing," her cousin Princess Ava whispered. Mara smiled her thanks. She didn't feel amazing; she felt terrified.

"In God's name," the Archbishop's resonant though slightly quavery (he was past eighty) voice exclaimed, "We are told that there is..."

And Prince Elijah led the Royal Family out into the congregation, walking along the aisle, impressive with his great height, his full dress naval uniform, his naked sword in his hand, his dark eyes clear, the other two cousins slightly behind him on either side, with Mara following among the women of the Royal Family who were present.

[Ralkovia]

The Ralkovian had put on a small artificial smile, to help avoid the thin gold strip bonded to his right cheek bone to flair closer to his eye. Even without the gold, the violet pupils flicked with red should have easily given away his identity as belonging to the Royal Family of Ralkovia. The golden strips extended downward, resting as a half circle planted around his ear, covering his black hair and limiting his facial expressions to only small ones, anything else would result in a large amount of pain.

Prince Victor S.A. Raskov, stood there watching the new Queen of Edom take her place, and yet all his memories kept pulling him toward the private coronation of his cousin, Emperor Joshua II. A familiar feeling of dread washed over him as he remembered that malignant monster making his way up to the tabernacle, behind him two Death Guard followed dragging behind him the broken woman that had been his sister and the previous leader of Ralkovia and her husband, Victor's Uncle. It was still fresh in his memory as the rest of the Royals gathered there could only look on in horror as both proclaimed hysterically the superiority of Joshua II before them.

He had only been a child, and his cousin only some years old then him, but he could easily recall the inhuman smile of the demon that had casually sat himself at the throne, that ancient golden seat that had sat besmirched for millenia. On pain of the most horrible death imaginable, no one but the leader of Ralkovia could sit on that chair, and yet here was a monster who had snatched the Crown from his own sister and splayed himself out, his elbows resting on the chair's arms, hand holding his head, and his feet hanging over the other side. An elder Rabbi affirmed that Joshua II was indeed the true ruler of Ralkovia, and the Death Guard soon began to remove the Raskovians that sat before him. Victor easily recalled the terror, squeezing his parents hands. Some men and women fought, some screamed that they were always loyal to Joshua II, but most simply wept and followed. The demon of the throne simply watched, relishing in it. Finally, the Death Guard seemed satisfied after having culled a large minority from the crowd. The terror had disappeared, replaced only with relief. And then life seemed to go on as it had before.

Victor drank from his glass, drowning those thoughts for now. Instead, he simply went back to observing the ceremony before him, it was largely a boring thing, filled with the same pomp that the Ralkovians had so delighted in. He hadn't been in the country of New Edom for long, but he had largely gathered enough information to realize that this whole thing was nothing but a powder keg ready to explode. He watched the girl carefully, her trepidation, fear, and unsteadiness, gave him a diagnosis that seemed rather grim. As a Raskovian, he still carried that uncanny ability to read a person like a book, a skill that had developed purely from the need to avoid assassinations, kidnappings, and traps. He was well educated in all matters of ruling as well. And the current situation did not spell well for her, though that was something he didn't truthfully care about.

He had resolved himself to be a bargaining chip, perhaps the best way to keep his life. His value was nearly limitless no matter who held him, rebels or loyalists. Most nations didn't like Ralkovia, but they did have a healthy respect for the resources under its command. Owning a piece of the royal family that could be recognized as the Emperor one day was enough to secure good treatment by any side.

That was the current arrangement with the New Edomites, he had a large apartment, pets, and his own staff. He had no real interest in getting involved in any of their conflicts however, and yet here he was at the coronation. He had chosen not to wear the Imperial Ralkovian Uniform or any of the other traditional garments of Ralkovia or the Royal Family, not wanting to attract attention. Instead, he wore a simple three piece suit, or what he had hoped to have been a simple one. The tailor had either on purpose or in recognition of who he was dressed the tie with the crest of the Raskovian Royal Family.

[New Edom]

Royal Coronation Anthem
Among the government ministers, standing with their decorations, swords, uniforms, orders, the Minister of Culture glanced at the Minister of Police. “Who the hell is that?” Colonel Solomon Cain asked Sidney Harcourt. Harcourt replied, “That’s the Emperor of Ralkovia.”
Cain gave him a cold look. “What’s that, supposed to be funny?”
“It’s kind of funny. He’s the Emperor-in-Exile, one of the Raskovians who managed to survive the purge.” Harcourt explained. “A sort of ace in the hole, if we really gave a damn about an isolationist freakshow on the other side of the world.”
Cain nodded. “What’s wrong with his face? He’s wearing facial jewelry.”
“Yes. It’s inserted into the bone so that they can’t take it off, a sort of permanent badge of status,” said Harcourt. “Sh, they’re starting.”
“Who’s the woman with him? She’s a nice bit.” Cain smiled slightly.
“She is a nice bit. She’s also one of my officers, Lieutenant-Colonel Fabian—and she’s Fabian’s daughter so tread warily.” Harcourt said warmly. He had also picked her because he felt sure she would annoy and distract their ‘guest’.

Mereka smiled at Victor. “It’s starting, hurray. Don’t you love a good coronation? The traditions, the sense of continuity? And there will be such a nice celebration afterwards, I hope it will cheer you up a bit.” Mereka looked pretty in her black dress uniform, the uniform pants nicely hugging her curvaceous hips and the tunic flaring over them, the jacket neatly tailored, wearing black leather gloves, her feet tucked into sleek riding boots, her cap neat on the dark brown pageboy cut hair.

Mara walked down the aisle in her ceremonial dress, the coins clinking faintly, smelling the incense, the smells of leather and flowers, smoke faintly drifting across her, and then the swell of music all around as she ascended the steps towards the altar.

Her eyes met those of her cousin, Brigadier-General Perrin Pahath-Moab, the President of the Council. He looked so poised and confident, his smile faint, his eyes meeting hers, and she felt a surge of confidence. Perrin had always protected her, had always loved her; he wouldn’t let her fail. Then she was looking into the kindly eyes of the Archbishop. How could anyone in this blood drenched land still look like that? It gave her hope, a sense of hope that goodness would prevail.

And so it began, with the anointing with holy oil, as Solomon was anointed by Zadok the Priest and Nathan the Prophet, and with the chanting of responses, with the pledged dedication of her family and the high ranking folk of the land, with the clergy who had attending her promising her character and fitness, and the Radiant Crown placed upon her head. “For inasmuch as the Imperium of the Cornellian Emperor passes unto the Heir of David the Lawgiver, so we do proclaim that Mara, the First Monarch of that Name, shall reign over the peoples of the Allied States of New Edom. We do therefore proclaim, in the name of Almighty God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit, that Mara the First is Queen. May God save the Queen!”

[Ralkovia]

He looked at her, eyebrowing raising as he faced her. Mereka had been assigned to him as his handler, and her main job seemed to be to annoy him with a steady stream of upbeat positiveness.

"The last coronation I went to ended up with most of our clan disappearing. As long as the new Queen doesn't start shooting into the crowd, that will be the a big plus," he responded, trying to force a scowl, but ultimately failing from the gold strip.

"A Monarch is just a dictatorship with the legitimacy of tradition," he added, his voice hushed, before pressing the drink against his lip, but not taking a sip, a force of habit he suffered from when saying rather dangerous ideas.

"What's with the cap though? More fitting of a servant than an officer," he said, his eyes shifting from his compatriots face, to the obtuse cap she wore.

[Hittanryan]

The two Adirans in attendance were fully aware of the risks in traveling to the war-torn nation; New Edom was not only plagued by internal violence but was also currently in a state of war, while Adiron had Arcologia's power vacuum to deal with back home. At the same time, they appreciated the gravity of New Edom's situation. Adiron lost the Founder to an Inquisition agent, and now New Edom had lost its king and several other leaders to an insane Damoclean bombing raid. This was supposed to be a gesture of solidarity with New Edom during a time of crisis.

Sitting next to one another was the Adiran Ambassador to New Edom David Redstone, and President Tavish DeGroot. The two men weren't exactly on the best of terms, being from different parties and all. The Liberal Redstone had done business in New Edom in the past, making him "uniquely qualified" for a nice, out-of-the-way position. Unfortunately for DeGroot, New Edom's upheaval of the past year meant he had to go through Redstone, who made a habit of explaining why the SDP's policies wouldn't work. They sat through the coronation ceremony wearing appropriately solemn expressions while their thoughts largely resided elsewhere.

Although Redstone might have been sent to New Edom due to politics, he did happen to be one of the State Department's go-to guys on Edomite affairs. Years ago he had come to New Edom as a correspondent for the fledgling ANBC during New Edom's first civil war. A long history of sometimes frustrating interactions with the Edomite government and NGOs taught him how an outsider might do business in New Edom, a marketable skill that he would use to help bring several international news networks into the country as a mid-level media executive. Upon returning to Adiron, he would enter politics as a Liberal. Right now, he felt a great deal of uncertainty about the future of this luckless country.

'Call him what you will, a tyrant, a traitor, a warlord, but James Obed was no fool,' Redstone thought. 'With due respect to the new Queen, Mara by all indications was never groomed for the throne. They would have controlled her public image better if she was. No, all these marriage bids...she was just a bargaining chip. Sad, really.' As Mara walked down the aisle, Redstone followed her glance up at Pahath-Moab. 'And with James gone, who's left to counter you? The monarchy's out of the way now, isn't it? James Obed, killed by a bolt from the blue sky with no contingency plan...'

DeGroot's thoughts were even further from the ceremony, back in Ceti. Li told him the anti-piracy op wouldn't have much to report on for at least a week, there was a lot of coastline for the Buzzards to sweep. It was the AIS' work that bothered him more: Vasquez had no timeframe, no hard information, no promises, yet Badlands Security was almost certainly the greater threat regardless of who backed them. A little over 16 hours ago, he was giving a press conference telling the Adiran people they were doing something about it, yet after sleeping on his flight, here he sat at the coronation of some twentysomething figurehead monarch whom he had very little confidence in. If they hadn't scheduled the appearance before the Conglomerate pulled out of Arcologia, he might not have attended. The Boy General, or at least him and his close associates, held all the real power anyway. Though he was always careful in front of the press, DeGroot snuck a couple of glances at his watch over the course of the ceremony.

[New Edom]

Mereka Fabian shook her head cheerfully at Victor's comments. "Don't be such a stupid shithead," she scolded him quietly. "Officers in this country wear caps, and isn't mine cute? But you are right about one thing--power is power. Speaking of power, I bought you a new pet, to counter the crocodile somewhat." The last time he had gone home a servant had forgotten to pen it, and it had charged at him in the hallway. It seemed to hate him. The servants and other attendants mostly stayed out of its way but it was more menacing that dangerous to them. It seemed to hate Victor and one of the maids alone, and would threaten them violently every time it saw them. Only Mereka could really control it, with a snap of her fingers and a stern look. "You have to have no fear at all," she would point out. "I don't mean circumstantially, I mean you have to have no fear. It's some kind of psychological or psychiatric condition--I can never remember the difference."

She continued to whisper, "I bought you a Griffon--a Terror Bird. You'll love it. It will be a good distraction for Zippy. And have you thought about how you want to celebrate? Massive ice cream sundaes? Movie night? Pool party?"

[New Edom]

Sometimes Colonel Daniel thought the Monarchist cause was lost.

He had served with distinction during the Third Elwe Uprising; he had been one of the officers who loyally served the King during the last civil war. With King Mark, King James gone, who was to replace them? Pahath-Moab had served the Free Congress, and he might claim to be pro-law and order, he might claim to be leading a military palace coup, he might even be the Queen's cousin through her mother, but at the end of the day he saw nothing to suggest that the man had changed at all. He loathed Pahath-Moab and everything he stood for, and he couldn't bear to see him standing there like some kind of Napoleon while his Queen, no doubt full of grief and worry, went up to be crowned. In the wake of the shouts of "God save the Queen!" he felt deep grief himself.

The country was so deeply divided. The Elwe still contemplating independence if they could only seize it, if some country would only support it. They'd sell themselves to the Deadorans again and probably sell them Magna Lacuna in the bargain. Gloria Regis--a Communist nation. King Josias would have rolled in his grave at the thought. Edenism was running rampant. Even worse with the martyrdom of Burden. And now Pahath-Moab hazarded everything on a war with Damoclea. He wished someone would understand the truth--that the so called "Interim Government" was nothing but a shell. They controlled communications and transport, they controlled the National Bank.

Rand, Hesperinus, Kiron, they were men you could trust. Men with real experience. But if Rand took power again, the ETC would riot in the streets, there would be massacres. Hesperinus too; and Kiron was too unknown to the people in general.

I'm watching you, you bastard, the Guard Commander thought, glancing at the President of the Council again. Then he felt a faint chill. A bit behind Pahath-Moab, Harcourt was watching him as though he was reading his mind, and gave him a faint smile. No, it had to be coincidence, he hadn't spoken to anyone. But his mind was already racing. What had he said that might have been repeated? Anything?

He followed the Queen in her garments of coronation, followed by attendants and her family, and thought, I will protect you, my Queen. My beloved.

[Ralkovia]

"I wanted neither crocodile nor this terror bird. Don't you Edomites have regular pets, like dogs or cats?" he complained in a loud whisper, his irritation quite present in his tone. "Or something quiet, like a turtle?" he added, draining the glass before him of the drink. "Why do I even need a pet in the first place?" he continued, his voice getting louder, causing the heads of a few to turn towards him. He immediately quieted down to the new attention he had received. It was awkward to have to deal with all these people, it was different in Ralkovia, at least for Raskovites like himself. He had never known a stranger in his life, everyone he had ever known had been introduced to him from his birth and onwards.

"I still can't believe that you're an officer," he said, raising his eyebrow in mock disbelief.

[Xavilia]

Reza could be seen in the crowds closest to the throne. He wore his black fur cloak and a robe made of black sable, on his hip a scarred long sword was seen by the crowd. Fortunately, upon proving his status as King of Xavilia who meant no ill, Reza had been able to keep his weapon inside of the palace. He causally scratched his head, tossing his black hair down into his eyes. He had not worn his crown, but a simple ring of gold around his aging head. He was going on 37 years old, but years of duty to Xavilia made him appear much older, and his military training had not done him in favors in that regard. He had long since lost sight in his left eye to an explosion in a Nova Alkor training camp, making his left eye a milky white and useless. His short beard was already beginning to prematurely gray and his one eye clearly made people nervous whenever he held their attention for a long time.

He looked at the new Queen of Edom and smiled... "Ah, what I would do to be her experiencing my own coronation again. Instead, I got a civil war for my coronation present." he said aloud, not noticing the odd looks he got. It was then that he noticed the strange man with the facial jewelry. Reza walked over to him, hand extended, "Greetings, from which land do you hail from friend?" he asked, his right hand still on the pommel of his sword, a force of habit that made guards everywhere jump for their guns.

[New Edom]

Reza could be seen in the crowds closest to the throne. He wore his black fur cloak and a robe made of black sable, on his hip a scarred long sword was seen by the crowd. Fortunately, upon proving his status as King of Xavilia who meant no ill, Reza had been able to keep his weapon inside of the palace. He causally scratched his head, tossing his black hair down into his eyes. He had not worn his crown, but a simple ring of gold around his aging head. He was going on 37 years old, but years of duty to Xavilia made him appear much older, and his military training had not done him in favors in that regard. He had long since lost sight in his left eye to an explosion in a Nova Alkor training camp, making his left eye a milky white and useless. His short beard was already beginning to prematurely gray and his one eye clearly made people nervous whenever he held their attention for a long time.

He looked at the new Queen of Edom and smiled... "Ah, what I would do to be her experiencing my own coronation again. Instead, I got a civil war for my coronation present." he said aloud, not noticing the odd looks he got.

Among the ambassadors and visiting heads of state was the King of Xavillia, who like some others present was wearing a blade. He was all dressed in black, and this produced various reactions; Princess Olivia murmured, "That would look better with a scarlet or crimson robe, would look very striking." Princess Ava whispered back, "I hate him. Do you know how many sables died for those clothes? Sick!" "Don't be a flake," Olivia whispered back.

"I wanted neither crocodile nor this terror bird. Don't you Edomites have regular pets, like dogs or cats?" he complained in a loud whisper, his irritation quite present in his tone. "Or something quiet, like a turtle?" he added, draining the glass before him of the drink. "Why do I even need a pet in the first place?" he continued, his voice getting louder, causing the heads of a few to turn towards him. He immediately quieted down to the new attention he had received. It was awkward to have to deal with all these people, it was different in Ralkovia, at least for Raskovites like himself. He had never known a stranger in his life, everyone he had ever known had been introduced to him from his birth and onwards.

"I still can't believe that you're an officer," he said, raising his eyebrow in mock disbelief.

"Some people have dogs and cats, but you don't want to seem like a snob, do you?" she told him, her eyes crinkling merrily. "And you need a pet to demonstrate that you love animals, and that you are not some kind of satanic psychopath. Pets are for love and care, but you don't love the crocodile. That's why it hates you so much." when she listened to his criticism, she smiled at him. "Whether you believe it or not, Your Majesty, it's perfectly true." She was about to say more but a stranger with one eye approached them.

It was then that he noticed the strange man with the facial jewelry. Reza walked over to him, hand extended, "Greetings, from which land do you hail from friend?" he asked, his right hand still on the pommel of his sword, a force of habit that made guards everywhere jump for their guns.

[Late Roman Empire]

For their part, the Romans present, Titus Clemens, the new consul and Master of Offices, Count Marcellinus, and Basilina, his wife, all wore black garb and somber faces. Yet more death, so soon after the murder of the Nalayan Protector, and now including the passing of Count Marcian and Felicia Galeria. So much loss.

Yet, there she was, the Queen of New Edom, someone that Titus had never honestly thought would be Queen when she attended the conference in Tartarus last year. Yet, here she was. The new head of state, but not the real power in Edom. No, that power lay elsewhere, with the Boy General, a man with a Roman medal even now and a stellar reputation that already made it into military history. The Savior of Fineberg and now of New Edom. The man on the white horse. The national hero, the dictator.....

...yes, if he truly wished, he could push her out in a couple of months with no trouble at all, especially having royal blood, but why bother? This way, he has the power and the monarchists are still loathe to oppose him.

The Romans stood stoically as the ceremony took place, except Basilina, who felt some empathy with the poor girl.

"Her life is gone forever now. She will never be her own woman now. Never be happy again," Basilina explained to Marcellinus, who nodded sadly.

Titus had similar thoughts, and yet he still hoped for the best for her. For all of her flaws, he liked her as a person. In that much, she represented her country's relationship with the Empire. In spite of the past, in spite of Edom's many flaws, the Romans just plain liked them these days. They were fellow Christians and understood each other, much as Titus understood Mara, or thought that he did....such a young woman, so scared, so brave....He wished that he could console her, but that wasn't right. He was a Roman statesman now, and Roman statesmen didn't hug foreign queens, even scared young ones who had just lost their fathers to a gruesome massacre.

Well, Your Majesty, God be with you. You will need Him for sure.

[Ralkovia]

"Some people have dogs and cats, but you don't want to seem like a snob, do you?" she told him, her eyes crinkling merrily. "And you need a pet to demonstrate that you love animals, and that you are not some kind of satanic psychopath. Pets are for love and care, but you don't love the crocodile. That's why it hates you so much." when she listened to his criticism, she smiled at him. "Whether you believe it or not, Your Majesty, it's perfectly true." She was about to say more but a stranger with one eye approached them.

It was then that he noticed the strange man with the facial jewelry. Reza walked over to him, hand extended, "Greetings, from which land do you hail from friend?" he asked, his right hand still on the pommel of his sword, a force of habit that made guards everywhere jump for their guns.

Victor chose to ignore the stranger, who most likely belonged to a lesser nation with a weak military, as seen with the pure overcompensation with a sword. Ralkovia was perhaps one of the most well known Empires in the World, its reputation as conqueror and enslaver widespread. Eight hundred million subhuman souls held in bondage, four hundred million soldiers and reserves, and a command of nearly forty colonies, territories, and protectorates.

There was no higher insult to Victor or any Ralkovian for that matter to be addressed without the person who began to introduce himself in a formal manner. He was not this man's 'friend' nor did he care to converse with him. Especially, since it seemed this man couldn't be separated from a piece of steel.

"Snob? What should I care about the opinions of others? I would rather not be chased home every night by an oversized lizard," he said, continuing the conversation with his companion,"You were the one who dragged me here. What are we doing now?"

[Xavilia]

"Some people have dogs and cats, but you don't want to seem like a snob, do you?" she told him, her eyes crinkling merrily. "And you need a pet to demonstrate that you love animals, and that you are not some kind of satanic psychopath. Pets are for love and care, but you don't love the crocodile. That's why it hates you so much." when she listened to his criticism, she smiled at him. "Whether you believe it or not, Your Majesty, it's perfectly true." She was about to say more but a stranger with one eye approached them.

Victor chose to ignore the stranger, who most likely belonged to a lesser nation with a weak military, as seen with the pure overcompensation with a sword. Ralkovia was perhaps one of the most well known Empires in the World, its reputation as conqueror and enslaver widespread. Eight hundred million subhuman souls held in bondage, four hundred million soldiers and reserves, and a command of nearly forty colonies, territories, and protectorates.

There was no higher insult to Victor or any Ralkovian for that matter to be addressed without the person who began to introduce himself in a formal manner. He was not this man's 'friend' nor did he care to converse with him. Especially, since it seemed this man couldn't be separated from a piece of steel.

"Snob? What should I care about the opinions of others? I would rather not be chased home every night by an oversized lizard," he said, continuing the conversation with his companion,"You were the one who dragged me here. What are we doing now?"

"You Ralkovian, aren't you the Emperor-in-Exile? You should learn manners and address potential allies when they speak to you, especially when I happen to represent the Kingdom of Xavilia and its allies. I am sympathetic to your cause!" suddenly Reza recalled of his boyhood lessons, that the Ralkovians didn't acknowledge those who were overly-friendly and unknown.

"Excuse me Ralkovian, I am King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana" Reza said, remembering his manners.

[New Edom]

Listening to Victor, seeming unfazed by his manner, Mereka raised her eyebrows, smiled and says, "So then it should make no difference what kind of pet you get, right? I mean I could get you a parakeet and put you in a pink mumu and you should be fine, because what do you care about the opinions of others? Speaking of others by the way, you didn't tell me how you want to celebrate this occasion."

Something occurred to her. "By the way: crocodiles aren't lizards. They're crocodilians. Shithead." Hearing the stranger, she said, "Oh, by the way, Prince Victor: this is King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana. King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana:his is Prince Victor S.A. Raskov of Ralkovia."

[Xavilia]

Listening to Victor, seeming unfazed by his manner, Mereka raised her eyebrows, smiled and says, "So then it should make no difference what kind of pet you get, right? I mean I could get you a parakeet and put you in a pink mumu and you should be fine, because what do you care about the opinions of others? Speaking of others by the way, you didn't tell me how you want to celebrate this occasion."

Something occurred to her. "By the way: crocodiles aren't lizards. They're crocodilians. Shithead." Hearing the stranger, she said, "Oh, by the way, Prince Victor: this is King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana. King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana:his is Prince Victor S.A. Raskov of Ralkovia."

"Ah, what a pleasure to meet one of such esteem of yours Prince Victor S.A. Rasko of Ralkovia. Might I inquire about the situation in Ralkovia?" asked Reza, obviously smiling at the fact that he had made some progress on this man.

[Izzyshipper]

Isabella, Princess of Izzyshipper had been chosen for the Queen for this delicate event. A coronation was always usually a bittersweet event, from the death of a father the assumption of the daughter arises. Isabella had always suspected the event had some connection of an almost tribal element to it, that with the sacrifice of life the power is transferred. Yet the way Mara's father had passed on, that certainly extinguished what little joy that could be found. Looking at her friend and cousin-in-law, Isabella noted how young she was. To have such burdens placed so heavily upon your shoulders, of a country so close to collapsing, it would be a hard weight to bear. A thought flashed before her mind, on the similarities between Mara and Sophia, two Queens who had inherited a troubled Kingdom. Isabella hoped for Mara's sake that the House of Obed where kind enough and loving enough for her to escape the fate of Queen Sophia; whose heart was too hard and her mind too suspicious to reclaim the girl she once was.

Isabella eyes sought out Victoria, and saw the look of sadness in her dear sister's face. Victoria was stronger than many gave her credit for, Isabella knew that her delicate and gentle nature of the Archduchess contained a center of steel, such was the nature of growing up as a royal. Excited by the prospect of seeing her sister again, despite the circumstances, it was with a little trepidation as she gazed at Prince Enoch. She wondered briefly if her had gotten over his dislike of her after their ill-advised encounter, but shrugged it away. That wasn't important now.

Pushing such thoughts from her mind, Isabella concentrated on the ceremony, however her eyes kept flickering over to Victoria, wanting nothing more than to embrace her, to take her away from this dangerous place and back home to beloved Izzyshipper. Yet she knew the Princess Royal would rather die than abandon her husband and family to such an unpredictable fate.

[Ralkovia]

Listening to Victor, seeming unfazed by his manner, Mereka raised her eyebrows, smiled and says, "So then it should make no difference what kind of pet you get, right? I mean I could get you a parakeet and put you in a pink mumu and you should be fine, because what do you care about the opinions of others? Speaking of others by the way, you didn't tell me how you want to celebrate this occasion."

Something occurred to her. "By the way: crocodiles aren't lizards. They're crocodilians. Shithead." Hearing the stranger, she said, "Oh, by the way, Prince Victor: this is King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana. King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana:his is Prince Victor S.A. Raskov of Ralkovia."

"They're all reptiles to me. And hey where was that 'your majesty crap' that you kept saying earlier? Shithead certainly doesn't sound like my title," he added swiping at her cap, hoping to knock it off, just as a quick revenge for being called shithead. "I could care less, what reason is there to celebrate anyway?" he continued, raising his eyebrow in inquiry.

"Very well, Aryamher of Xavilla, as you can tell from my 'companion'," he said making air quotes with his fingers,"I am Prince Victor Raskov of the Grand Empire of Ralkovia, Fourteenth in line to the Throne. The situation in Ralkovia is as it's been for the past fifteen years, terrible."

[3 State Alliance]

24 hours earlier
#17 Goverment Plaza - Grand Peaks
The Alliance

The Alliance's diplomatic affairs office was always hectic, over a thousand reports per day passed through the office - if it happened in the world it would show up at someone's desk in DA. Today however all other projects had been pushed aside in light of something big, the situation in New Edom had hit a nerve somewhere high up and now Chairman Conners herself was going to travel to the new queen's coronation and offer all due aid to the unstable nation. Already things where tense regarding the visit and the Chairman was still safe in her apartment...

Coronation Day
New Edom

As the ceremony started a new 767 painted in the Alliance's colors and its six fighter escorts passed over the city. As a sign of solidarity all seven planes released black and white smoke as they passed over the cathedral. Soon after the flyover a pair of borrowed vehicles was working their way towards the site of the coronation. When they arrived Chairman Conners was quickly escorted into the viewing stand where the other visiting dignitaries where already observing the proceedings. She took a seat next to a well dressed young man who was engaged with arguing about some mundane issue with a military officer. Conners was not much to look at in this crowd, a short, pale, raven haired young lady, she preferred simple black fatigues worn under black trenchcoat-turned-cloak to top it all off she wore a dark red beret, in fact the only thing that really made her stand out was her cold brown eyes and missing right arm…

She waited until the man next to her had finished arguing with what now appeared to be his handler before introducing herself. He looked familiar… Prince Victor S.A. Raskov… “leader” of some little democracy with no need for a prince – oh well she thought, could be useful.
“Victor Raskov I presume?”
He turned with a slight start.
“Chairman Conners, I represent the Alliance. We’ve had you on our list for a while now…”
She gave him an unnervingly innocent smile while extending her left hand in greeting.

[Xavilia]

Listening to Victor, seeming unfazed by his manner, Mereka raised her eyebrows, smiled and says, "So then it should make no difference what kind of pet you get, right? I mean I could get you a parakeet and put you in a pink mumu and you should be fine, because what do you care about the opinions of others? Speaking of others by the way, you didn't tell me how you want to celebrate this occasion."

Something occurred to her. "By the way: crocodiles aren't lizards. They're crocodilians. Shithead." Hearing the stranger, she said, "Oh, by the way, Prince Victor: this is King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana. King Reza Tamar Aryamher I. King of all the Xavilians, Duke of Varosha and Nova Alkor, King of Ashaiz, Supreme Commander of the Xavilian Armed Forces, and Knight-Elector of the Duchy of Yaslana:his is Prince Victor S.A. Raskov of Ralkovia."

"They're all reptiles to me. And hey where was that 'your majesty crap' that you kept saying earlier? Shithead certainly doesn't sound like my title," he added swiping at her cap, hoping to knock it off, just as a quick revenge for being called shithead. "I could care less, what reason is there to celebrate anyway?" he continued, raising his eyebrow in inquiry.

"Very well, Aryamher of Xavilla, as you can tell from my 'companion'," he said making air quotes with his fingers,"I am Prince Victor Raskov of the Grand Empire of Ralkovia, Fourteenth in line to the Throne. The situation in Ralkovia is as it's been for the past fifteen years, terrible."

"Have you made any plans on returning, sir?" asked Reza, careful to keep his accent under control.

[New Edom]

Prince Enoch was now married to Princess Desiree of Gavinium Magnus; his slim dark haired beauty of a wife, and stood beside her. The marriage had been done so discreetly that even Victoria didn't know yet, but it had secured a good alliance and trade agreement with Gavinium Magnus, advancing New Edom's goals upon the northern continent of Cornellia. Tall Prince Elijah, short and voluptuous Princess Ava and the doe eyed shy Princess Jocasta were all that remained to be married off.

The Obed family had been decimated; the old were either sick and infirm or dead; the very young nonexistent. A handful remained and without them the dynasty would fail. They had to marry, breed and be quick about it. The last thirty years had not been kind to the Obed family.

According to the programme everyone had been given, shortly following the ceremony there would be a ball in the Queen's honour, and people were invited to come, make merry and celebrate.

OOC Note: I will be moving things on to the ball shortly, but people are welcome to continue their conversations if they wish to. My next post will be about the ball.

[New Edom]

Shiloam Palace
Music
The estate for that evening was lit up along the beautiful boulevard with small lamps that hung from the trees, and the lawn decorated with small lamp posts. A canopy had been erected for a banquet table, and nearby the gardens with fountains made to resemble mythic beasts or flowering trees sprinkled cheerfully. The Palace of the Obed family was a wide spread out white building built in a neo-classical style with wide verandas sheltered by pillared overhangs and with peaked roofs of red terra-cotta. Guards in white uniforms with gold buttons, black trousers, sleek shoes, and peaked caps were on duty; while they wore ceremonial swords they also had submachineguns slung, but the various people at the party seemed to just take this for granted.

On arrival, each guest was greeted by Princess Jocasta, the Crown Princess, whose dark hair fanned down her bare shoulders like fire against her smooth fair skin, and who was wearing a strapless line elegant purple evening dress which was backless, a subtle slit in the gown showing her left thigh when she moved, wearing only a simple bracelet of beaten gold as jewelry and the golden and ruby ring of the Heir. "Welcome to this ball in honour of my sister, Queen Mara. We hope you will leave some of the joy you have brought with you with us, and that your stay will be a happy one."

While all this was going on, Queen Mara sat on her bed staring at a picture of her father on the wall. It felt insane to think that she would never see him again, and never talk to him again. She felt like she was the only person who really missed him--her mother had cared for him, respected him and enjoyed her marriage, but didn't love him as deeply. Mara felt as though she had to make herself move by sheer act of will, find purpose by sheer desperation, and couldn't imagine what to do next.

[Adili]

Prince James I arrived at the ball, wearing a white tuxedo with a blue bow tie, with his god brother, Prince Julian, who was also wearing a white tuxedo but with a purple bow tie. They had flew from Adili to New Edom of the Air Royal 2, the secondary royal plane, because his parents were expected to leave in the morning. They had talked the whole time about what was going to happen with the Queen and Princess and how they would do anything to marry them. They walked passed Princess Jocasta and Julian recognized her from the pictures they had seen.

"Good Evening Your Majesty, It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Prince Julian II of Adili, second in line to the throne, and this is my brother Crown Prince James of Adili," James kissed her hand and bowed. "We were invited here by your Queen. Does she happen to be around?"

[Arbites]

Coronation

Ambassador to New Edom Jacob Lee couldn't help but feel sorry for the thoroughly unprepared young woman walking down the aisle. Father killed by insane communists, country ravaged internally by equally insane anarchists, and now New Edom's eyes would be on her and the Boy General to help fix it. The Boy General held most of the cards though, Mara likely would not be in control of her own destiny. Likely she would have to marry into some other royal family to secure an alliance. It was an enormous amount of pressure to place on a bereaved girl who by all rights should still be in school; and despite himself, Lee said a silent prayer that it wouldn't all end in tears. New Edom had enough of that this year.

There were practical problems with the loss of James II as well. Though hardly a close friend to the Imperium, he had ultimately proved willing to deal with them in a way that the ETC-riddled Free Congress never would have. Trade was very slowly being quietly restored between the two nations, especially as recent warfare disrupted New Edom's internal manufacturing capability. The Imperium had publicly supported New Edom's homosexual reeducation program, even in the face of widespread overly-permissive liberal opposition. Imperial troops had loyally and reliably served as part of the CPO under Edomite command. Though Lee wasn't aware of the details, the Imperium had even backed the monarchist bid for control of the country. All of this was facilitated through James Obed, Philip Tubal-Cain, and Charles Rand. Two of those three men were now dead, and politically Rand didn't have a leg to stand on.

If the Imperium was to continue the progress they were making in New Edom, they needed access to the new faces of the Edomite government. Pahath-Moab had been a Free Congress man, yet he shared neither their devotion to the ETC nor their tendency towards mob rule. His attitudes towards the Imperium since taking power, however, had been somewhat confusing. Though he did nothing to halt the ongoing developments between the two nations, he wasn't exactly amenable towards closer ties. Lee and others were of the opinion they should largely stick to the same institution they had modest success with before: the monarchy. The new queen may not be as shrewd or nearly as powerful as James, but perhaps she could at least open a few doors with her cousin.

The Ambassador had not expected to see the Adiran madman DeGroot in the audience; he thought Arcologia would have been a more pressing issue to the bastard. Instead, here he sat, as always trying to play nice for the cameras to hide his utterly mercenary nature. Lee did his best to ignore him and focus on the ceremony at hand.

[Nordkrusen]

Reception

Out from a black unassuming car marked with Nordkrussian diplomatic ensigns, stepped the wirly old frame of Fieldmarshal Fieldmarshal Albert von Hohenzollern, uncle to the current king Friedrich Wilhelm III of Nordkrusen. Chosen as the diplomatic representative to Maras coronation as his nephew had his hands full dealing with the reprecussions of the Gürthhausen affaire. Walking briskly with a strength and speed that seemed unnatural for a man in his middle sixties, the prince in a pair of dressblues rather spartan for royalty with only the stars on his shoulders and the sole order of the northen cross as a giveaway to his importance. walking up towards princess Jocasta he stopped at the ascribed distance precisely behind the Adili royals while waiting to be let forth.

The coronation had brought the prince's thoughts back to the Edom of Josiah the second, the Edom he knew and was familiar with. As one of the chief of the supreme general staff he rarely interested himself in worldly events, only touching them once they affected military issues...seeing the world though structured satistics and reports had its charm most certainly, but it was quite another thing to see the descriptions firsthand.

"How far the mighty have fallen indeed..." Albert mused silently, his marred face revealing nothing. To say that New Edom had fallen on hard times was the understatement of the decade, and he was certain that had the treaty of New Laconia not been signed back in 1992 the state would have found itself partitioned between its neighbors. Still finding the treaty rather absurd and a waste of paper he still found that his brother had made the right decision in signing it, the international backlash that would have come out of not sigining it was not worth the benefits it provided.
Catching a glimpse of one of Pahath-Moab's soldiers he was brought out of his musings, the orders from his nephew has quite clear, a disorganised and weak Edom was not in the interest of the crown, the best option for stability in New Edom was quite obviously the "Boy General" one would sound out the man to see what his intentions were and find if he was receptive to certain Nordkrussian suggestions.

[McNernia]

Shiloam Palace

The coronation ceremony was over, Mara was most un prepared for the titanic burden that had fallen on her like a stone. Ambassador Clyde Hullar of the Kingdom of Mcnernia was a grim man, even more grim now that the Empire had decided to throw its lot in with the Allied States. Hullars Embassy vehicle drove up to the Shiloam Palace. His driver looked back over his shoulder. "Mr Ambassadaor sir we have arrived at the Palace." " Very well Laurence." His bodyguard opened the door and the Ambassador stepped out clad in black evening wear with a navy blue bowtie, he wore white golves on his hands and a cane with a brass headed eage made of oak was in his right. His bodyguard hung back, he would not be needed here.

The Ambassador smiled at the Crown Princess, there was a twinkle in his dark blue eyes. " I seriously do hope to enjoy my self Princess Jocasta and allow me to pass on the personal condolences of myself and my master Emilion IV in regards to the tragic dimese of His Majesty the King."