Tsvesti Estate, Novroskaya, Novroskroi Krai, Amythyst - 6th January, Year 1331 C.C. (2012 A.D.)
Located in the hilly outskirts of Novroskaya laid the home of the territorial governess of Novroskroi Krai. Consisting of a single mansion overlooking the snowcapped roofs and hills of the city, the estate paled in comparison the sprawling estates of Amythyst's inner cities in the heartlands. Still, the Tsvesti family that owned what once their personal domain continued to hold the reins over Novroskaya, just as their ancestors who founded the city had for centuries. And with martial law still in effect since the escalation of violence by rebel elements within Amythyst, it is unlikely that the Tsvesti nobles may find themselves out on the streets any time soon.
Amythyst was a nation rife with government corruption. Years of abuse by the nobility had severely hindered the progress of the country, and the democratic system that had been put in place was nothing short of shoddy and flimsy at best. Election fraud, gerrymandering and nepotism had been a fan-favourite tool for higher nobles in setting up their own dynastic flefdoms, long after it was supposed to be abolished under the Amythysian constitution. With martial law still effectively in place, using the rebel threat as justification, Amythyst had essentially fallen back into its feudal past.
Of course, all that was still the least of the Tsvesti's concerns. With the death of the ageing Minister of Transport Grigori Yukonovich, the post was theoretically supposed to be passed over to another member of parliament. Predictably, with nepotism rife in the political stage, it did not take long for Yukonovich's job to handed to one of his old friends, the old patriarch of the Tsvesti clan, Marquis Bran Tsvesti. Tsvesti, however, was in no position to enjoy his new 'assignment', and while the title itself effectively granted him a great boost in his already fat pension, his ailing health made him unsuited to take on the task.
But one girl was keen to take on the role, the newly appointed governess of Novroskaya, nineteen year old Mille-Feuille Tsvesti. However, unlike her fellow nobles in the inner cities, Mille-Feuille had no intention of slacking on the job. Among the new breed of young, reform-minded nobles, Mille-Feuille wanted to change the nation for the benefit of her people, not to profit at their expense. An enthusiastic worker, the oddly pink-haired girl was quick to get right to the job. Sadly, the one thing she lacked was experience. Worse still, she chose the worst possible person to speak to on her first assignment.
"I'm very sorry, Miss Tsvesti," a cynical, middle aged man quipped as they were seated in the dining hall, "but I'm afraid there is really no point in negotiating at this time."
Dressed in a frilly military-like white top with black and gold highlights and a pink skirt, the girl seemed more suited in a space opera-like setting than the old colonial building she calls home. Adorned with a pair of flowers pinned on her headband, Mille-Feuille hardly looked the part of a politician at all. Sitting timidly one side of the table, Mille could only glare at her cup of tea laid in front of her in anxiety. She had high hopes for her new post, and she was eager to start. But almost immediately after she started her first meeting, she was already being shot down by the official seated on the opposite side.
A lanky individual with a gaunt face and white fringes at the front of his otherwise auburn hair, the man facing her clearly possessed a no-nonsense demeanour and an acumen in the harsh world of politics. At first, his unusual black uniform, which flashed with silver and grey highlights, seemed typical of Amythysian nobles his age, who often traded their often plain-looking standard uniforms for custom made attire. However, his personality and monotonous business-like accent indicated otherwise. He was no Amythysian noble. He was the Minister of Trade for Amythyst's most menacing adversary, the Empire of Wolfenium - Orel von Mittenwald.
"But Minister Mittenwald," pleaded the young girl, "we need this contract badly. Can't you speak to the Reichstag on this? This project is worth a fortune!"
Shutting his eyes in irk, the man could only sigh at the girl's naivety. As he gave another cold stare, he reiterated, "it's not so much of the Reichstag I had to convince than the Kaiser himself. As head of state, it is His Majesty who dictates and decides on the policies that are best for our country. More importantly, the trade embargo put in place by Wolfsburg was in response to your nation's unprovoked aggression against the Empire and its people. I do believe no peace settlement had ever been successfully signed and ratified as of currently. Even though we had agreed at the summit to drop any discussions of territorial change for the time being, that doesn't mean the First War is over. To me, you are still a hostile national to my country, and as a citizen and a government official of Wolfenium, I have to uphold the wishes of the Kaiser and the cabinet. Never mind I'm the Minister of Trade, I'm still not going to give my approval for our local railroad firms to bid for the contract."
"But-" blubbered the girl in panic as Orel got out of his seat. Maintaining a calm, businessman's appearance, he stated, "perhaps if our two countries were at peace, I probably would have bargained for a more favourable deal for our side. You'd probably stand to lose a lot with weak demeanour like yours. Luckily or not, I am not here to do such a thing. I have to respects the wishes of His Majesty and the people. They will not stand for any transgressions on my part.
Minister Tsvesti, you are still far too young to be a skilled lawmaker. You lack the experience and mindset to be a strong politician. I suggest you start with a smaller post before becoming minister again, or perhaps get an aide who has that kind of negotiating talent. I don't usually give advice to rival politicians, but it's obvious you need a rude awakening. We'll talk again when the time is right. For now though," he said as he stepped out of the dining hall, "please do not bother contacting me. I can assure you, any trade dialogue between our two nations will be doomed to fail unless peaceful relations can be restored. For now, good day to you, Miss."
Watching as the Minister calmly picked up his suitcase and coat from the drawer, Mille could feel a stinging sensation in her heart. While the Minister's scathing remarks was uncalled for, she knew deep inside he had a point. She was trying to take on a role that was too large for her to fill. She needed someone to help her while she learned the tricks of the trade. However, just as the Minister was about to leave, Mille blurted out a question.
"M-Mr Mittenwald," uttered the girl nervously, "h-how's Sig-I mean... Mr Honecker?"
"Honecker?" mused the stoic minister, raising an eyebrow as he turned to face the girl. He could tell right away she was asking as concerned schoolgirl, not as a minister. Having read up on her history, he could only shake his head over such trivialities.
"Defence Minister Honecker is doing fine, Miss Tsvesti," he commented, "although I admit, I'm not as close to him as you would think. I may from the same cabinet and political alliance as him, but I'm only his colleague and acquaintance. We're not even in the same party, so I wouldn't know for sure. I assume you're enquiring about those rumours?"
Blushing a little, the girl felt embarrassed over the Wolfener's keen observation. Shaking his head again, he advised, "please keep your personal affairs off your work. I'm not here to entertain questions about my colleague's personal life."
"I-I'm sorry," stammered the girl in apology, twiddling her thumbs. As the increasingly frustrated minister massaged his temples, he added, "if you must know, that girl following him isn't his wife, at least not in the eyes of the law. I don't believe Minister Honecker even took the chance to consummate his little shotgun marriage. His political reputation is already dented by his philandering past. I don't think he would want to give the tabloids one more exploit to write about. If anything else, I must leave now. Good day to you, Madam."
With that, the man soon made his way out the door, trudging out of the knee-deep snow outside. As the girl gazed out at the lone figure disappearing into the city, she was interrupted by another voice coming in from behind her.
"Lady Tsvesti," uttered a monotone of a young girl with green hair, dressed in an elaborate white dress, "the outsiders (foreigners) you called for are here. The people who stated their interests in the restoration works?"
Turning back to the aide, she blurted, "what? Already? I got to get ready! Set the tea set for me, will you, Vanil?" As the aide acknowledged with a bow, Mille could only muster whatever courage she had.
"He may be right," she thought to herself, "but I have to be strong now. This nation may not last long. If I don't do something now, who will?..."
