Betharan Palace Intrigues (Please TG or Sign Up for Entry)

[New Edom]

Akai

Queen Rebecca smiled. "The Ditor, yes. It is a great honour to meet you. And so you are squiring a suitor to our country." He seemed like a nice boy, but the nation was known for its cutthroat politics and greed, so she was also observing him. "And do they do betrothals at an early age in your country as well? I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with your customs."

---

"So you are waiting for your turn," said Dr. Aphek with a smile. "It makes it rather sound like the Heir is a merry-go-round."

"I'm sure that he meant no disrespect," said Count Sharra, peering over his glasses at the foreign young man. "But it is after all a ball."

"Indeed, it is a ball," said Dr. Aphek. "One which the Heir has longed to hold, and it seemed a good moment for it. She organized a great deal of it herself, you know--well obviously gave instructions, didn't hang the decorations herself, ha ha--ah, the waltz has ended..." he clapped with the others.

A large man, with a large belly and chest, florid jolly face wearing a white tuxedo took a podium at the band's stage and as a fanfare began the next song in all brass and swift charm began, and it was clearly popular, as many even who were idling and chatting hurried to find dance partners and did a sort of quick version of a foxtrot once they had begun the dance.

McNernia

"My goodness, what martial skill you must have," she said, eyes fluttering as if a bit alarmed. "I bet you could break me in two, I feel positively small compared with you...you are truly a warrior prince!"

Then he expressed his pleasure at dancing with her.

"Why aren't you sweet!" cried Countess Lavinia in response to Prince Fredericks' rather charming remarks and tender sentiments, gazing up at him with eyes that were like dark forest pools.

The waltz came to an end, and a look of wistful sadness passed over her face as she stepped reluctantly away and applauded with others. Then the next number began and she said, "Well, I suppose you must find another dance partner--ah, I see Prince Lucas of Ghant is asking the Heir to dance...."

[Ghant]

...Prince Lucas was by now growing exceptionally bored, wanting to get this infernal dance right done and over with...conversely, try to work his charms on Jocasta and get her out into the garden...or something. It looked like Alexander was his usual self...suave but lacking in a certain... x-factor. In any event he hovered around and waiting for Jocasta to emerge from the washroom.

Jocasta emerged again and murmured to Countess Jabbok, both of them smiling, laughing softly. She looked much refreshed, and accepted a glass of fizzy from her maid and sipped it with her soft pretty lips, looking around the room with shining dark eyes.

Upon the sight of her, Prince Lucas made his move. “Crown Princess Jocasta, would you do me the honor of a dance?”

“Certainly,” said Princess Jocasta with a polite smile. “Prince Lucas of Ghant.”

“Might I say you look absolutely stunning this evening,” he said with a smile as he took her into a dancing posture. “I promise not to bore you with trifle matters that I am sure these other Princelings have laid at your feet,” Lucas said gingerly as they began.

“Oh, I quite love this number, it’s so jolly,” Jocasta exclaimed as she began to dance with him. It was a quicker dance than the one with Alexander of course, and Jocasta was nimble on her feet. “Your brother made me angry. You Genries are too stubborn. You give the impression you may do with my people and with me as you like. Is that what you want?”

Lucas seemed only somewhat surprised. “Who me? No...we don’t really see things eye to eye, he and I. Alexander has always been...sort of stuck up. I think I am much more laid back. I play football and yacht...stuff like that. I try to keep things really cool and casual,” he admitted.

“Well,” said Jocasta, staring up at him, skipping about on the dance floor, her dress floating around her legs, little flashes of her olive toned supple calves as the material flared like a floating bell a moment here and there, “He was awfully callous about it. About my friend Lavinia, about feeling that your Emperor can just do what he likes. That’s not much of an alliance is it? If it were not for Albert and Sophia I would not think it was one at all.”

“Nathan is a fool, but he means well,” Lucas tried to explain. “Ghant is much bigger than Nathan. People volunteered in droves to come and fight, and die for the alliance, because they believe in the honor of it. Nathan supports it too...even if he tangles himself on his own feet. I think that, you know, some mistakes were made, and some misunderstandings happened. I have heard him say that he should have handled that whole situation differently...it isn’t so much that mistakes are made, but what you learn from them that matters. And I think he learned...about discretion.”

Jocasta smiled. “Well that’s good to hear…” she took a deep breath, and said, “How you have reassured me. Some people imply that your family cannot be trusted at all, but I think of how much support Albert and Christopher have provided and I just can’t bring myself to believe that...people can be so malicious, can’t they?”

“Yeah, some people…” Lucas nodded as they danced. He was alright at it...not as good as his brother, but he some pizazz to it that Alexander couldn’t hope to match. “The problem with the Imperial House is that ever since the Mad Emperor, it hasn’t ever fully recovered in terms of prestige. I mean, all of Emperor Michael’s daughters became the Queens of something or another, but it has just been...floundering. Nathan is a blacksheep and does nothing to manage the House...so it falls on others to do it, like Uncle Albert. I think there is a hunger for respect and a restoration of dignitas, but there are too many people tugging in different directions to make it happen. And the Dakmarans...well...they have their, um, stuff together. And Nathan goes along with it. That’s why, between you and me, Sophia is the real power in Ghant, and her dad gets a lot of what he wants done as a result of that.”

“Well, your brother was a total jerk about it,” Jocasta informed him. “I get the impression Nathan is my enemy at times, you know, because of that incident and how it is followed up on. How can I deal with someone who is so imperious even behind closed doors?”

“That doesn’t surprise me...he is just so aloof,” Lucas nodded in agreement. “Listen...if you want to deal with Nathan, you need to bring him to task. Let him know that you unhappy with him, and try to get something you want from him. He will give it if only because he is fond of you...and because he is apologetic. After all, have you ever heard the song, ‘Everybody plays the fool?’ well, the Nathan is a fool, and you could always learn how to play said instrument,” he explained.

With a soft small hand she touched his cheek. “Dear Lucas, how you have set my heart to rest unlike your pompous brother! Such wise advice. I shall give it the deepest thought,” she said, and said, “Now, I ask you,” her eyes suddenly avid, almost glowing, “Give me more! I pray you, dear Lucas, tell me: if you were me, what would you ask of the Emperor of Ghant?”

“Uh…” Lucas had to think about that, looking off in the distance and biting his bottom lip. “...I would...summon him to Fineberg to demonstrate the allegiance he claims to possess. And…” Lucas thought some more. “Arietta might come back to Fineberg to see Lavinia if she is welcome. You could always...use her as collateral. Let Nathan know that there are stakes if he fails to take it seriously...at his beloved sister’s expense. I mean, I love my cousin Ari, don’t get me wrong, but her hands aren’t exactly clean, you know. It won’t make him like you, but it will make him respect you.”

Jocasta clapped her hands a moment, then took her place with him again. “How wonderful! I will then give that the gravest thought. Are you enjoying this music?”

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” he said, looking at her. “I haven’t really gotten out to too many balls, so it’s refreshing, to say the least. And yourself?”

“Oh I love it!” cried Jocasta. “It’s such jolly happy music, the jolliest of happiest, and I’m so happy to be having my ball.”

“As am I,” Lucas responded merrily.

[New Korinth]

Betharan Palace

Aristarchos arrived at the palace later than he would've liked, but there were certain concessions in respect to promptness that one had to accept when travelling thousands of miles. My father must want me married very badly, Aristarchos thought to himself as he stepped out of his limousine, to send me half-way around the world to find a bride. Or perhaps he just wants me married to a bride halfway around the world.

It was no secret, at least not among the upper classes in Korinth, that Aristarchos was a man who took pleasure in the simple things in life. Provided, of course, that "simple things" meant "women". But what else was a prince to do in the capital? He had left an exciting and successful military career to sit around in an office, overseeing the colony of Korexos. It was a miserable office overseeing a miserable place, despite the prestige and privilege it afforded. The hetaerae at the Temple of Aphrodite were just about the only thing in Korinth that Aristarchos found enjoyable, but now he was being sent thousands of miles away from them to woo and hopefully marry a woman in New Edom. It was as though God had a personal vendetta.

Nonetheless, Aristarchos was here, standing before the gates of a large, somewhat over embellished, palace complex. As he walked forward and through the gate, handing his invitation to whomever asked to see it, he reflected on the crisp Doric architecture of home. Perhaps there was some love for Korinth in his heart, he thought. Or at least, perhaps he just had a lesser disdain for home than for foreigners. He continued along the pathway, past carefully cultivated lawns and gardens, and through a courtyard, eventually arriving at the entrance to the ballroom. He handed his invitation to an attendant and stepped through the doors as soon as they were open for him.

To any other Korinthian, the grand ballroom would have been a sensory overload, what with its bright colors, floral architecture and stained glass windows. Aristarchos had been a soldier, though, leading armies from the front and being exposed to the massive carnage of modern warfare. To him, the ballroom was positively serene. He breathed in the air, perfumed with the mixed scents of the various gowned ladies, and with the scent of food. On any other day, it would have been a struggle to decide which pleasure he would prefer to indulge in, but on this day he had a mission.

And so, knowing that the truest way to a woman's hand in marriage was to befriend oneself to her parents, Aristarchos set out along the dancefloor to introduce himself to the Queen.

[The High Tatras]

Prince Herbert arrived at the palace in the back of a rusted rattletrap 2.5 ton cargo truck, escorted by about a dozen or so Tatran soldiers. Predictably, he arrived very late.

The well-groomed and well-dressed prince could not have contrasted more with grizzled and bearded Tatran soldiers, who could almost be mistaken for partisans with their somewhat less than uniform uniforms and cheap Mosin-Nagant bolt-action rifles and PPSh-41 submachine guns.

"Pryvit tovarysh, err... I mean your highness. It is us who have been assigned to protect you for tonight." said one of the soldiers.

"Um... May I please speak to your commanding officer?" said the prince.

"I am the commanding officer, elected by my fellow frontoviki to lead this unit." said the soldier.

"Oh, I am sorry... It is just... You... You look like a common soldier." said the prince.

"Your highness, both you and I know better than to judge someone based solely on their appearance." said the commanding officer.

"Well... That is true, but many others do not know any better. I doubt you will be allowed to pass through the palace gates like this even with your diplomatic passports. Do you not have full dress uniforms or something to that effect?" said the prince.

"You still have much to learn about the ways of the Kozatska Respublika, your highness." said the commanding officer. "I wouldn't be caught dead wearing that pink hussar jacket or those polished tall leather boots with those breeches that are nearly skintight." he secretly thought to himself regarding the prince's outfit.

Prince Herbert and his Tatran guards approached the palace gates. One of the guards lit up a hand-rolled cigar made from cheap "makhorka" tobacco.

"Um... Uh... Hello, there. I... I think this is where we are supposed to be." said Prince Herbert, presenting a stack of diplomatic passports.

[New Edom]

Betharan Palace New Arrivals

The barricade before the entourage of Prince Herbert reached the gates was what stopped he and his armed band of ruffianly soldiers.

"Stand easy," said the Senior Sergeant at the barricade. Nearby stood an M28 Vigilo Recon vehicle, with soldiers of the 15th Regiment of Hussars in Parade Dress (billed cap, green jacket-tunic, tie, trousers tucked into black boots) armed with AK-94 rifles standing there dealing with deliveries and last minute guests. Not far off a delivery van was being inspected by EODs and a dog team.

"Who are these, sarge?" asked one of the Hussars, eying the group suspiciously.

"They're an honour guard from the High Tatras embassy, if you can believe it," said the sergeant. He inclined his head politely to Prince Herbert. "Good evening Highness, your invitation is in order. I'm afraid no guards are permitted in--only ADCs and staff, that sort of thing. Security you see."

---

The New Korinth: Aristarchos

Here comes some actual competition though Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain. The slim, dark haired olive tanned man in white naval dress uniform, gold braid and decorations catching the light, stood near as the Korinthian prince approached the Queen Dowager who was talking to the Ditor. Perhaps he had not seen the slim youth, so Enoch approached him before he could put himself in an awkward position and made a polite bow and introduced himself.

"Hello. You must be Prince Aristarchos?" Enoch had studied the dossiers on all the foreign suitors. "I am Prince Enoch Tubal-Cain, the Royal Master of Offices. Welcome. You've found us in full swing." he nodded and at this gesture a young woman dusted in gold and silver and painted with pink crocus like petals approached demurely with a tray of chamnpagne flutes, offering one, moving on slim bare feet. "Please, have a drink."

By now it was full evening; the lights from the windows blazed and the music could be heard from the palace though it of course came in its full glory as the new guests arrived in the ballroom, where the music could properly be heard as people danced, some singing along with the tenor who was singing with the orchestra accompanying him. Glimpses of men and women dancing, the Heir seeming to be having a good time dancing with Prince Lucas of Ghant, General Unwerth and his wife doing a sprightly foxtrot, Count and Countess Merodach with laughing faces doing the same. Those who had not found dance partners in time were clapping and smiling along with the music not far off.

[New Korinth]

Aristarchos slowed to a stop as the Edomite prince approached and introduced himself.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, and yes, I would love a drink of that," Aristarchos responded with a smile, watching the young woman walk away. "Oh, I'm sorry, you meant the champagne." He laughed amiably, taking the delicate glass and attempting to size up the man before him.

His uniform was certainly bright, Aristarchos noted. In Korinth, white uniforms signified naval personnel, and he felt it was safe to assume the same here. Aristarchos, meanwhile, was dressed in the grey double breasted tunic of the Korinthian army, with black jodhpurs tucked into tall black leather boots. There was no braiding or embellishment save for a white lapel pin emblazoned with a black "sigma", marking him as a satrap. It was a smart uniform but, looking around the room, Aristarchos was very aware that it wasn't the most magnificent.

Still, he turned to Prince Enoch and sipped his champagne. "It seems to be quite the party, yes?" he said. "And such a beautiful palace. Very... ornate." Out of the corner of his eye, Aristarchos was watching the queen chat with a young man that he hadn't previously noticed. He supposed that, seeing as the queen was occupied, he could spare some time speaking to Enoch.

"Tubal-Cain?" he said, turning towards the prince. "What name is that? Unless your father is Lamech, I am afraid I do not know the family."

[New Edom]

New Korinth

Prince Enoch was amused by the foreign prince's bon mot about the servant girl, glancing a moment at her hip swaying departure, turned back to Aristarchos and chuckled. "Indeed. The refreshments are always good here including the champagne."

Up close, it was clear by his insignia that he was a naval officer--the anchors a dead giveaway. He was by his sleeves a full commander in military rank, and wore two rows of medals which a foreigner might be unfamiliar with. Two were campaign service medals, one was for a particular surface action, for instance. Enoch seemed to be about 30 years old or so. He said of his name, "Tubal-Cain is a family name here. We have different ranks of aristocracy than some other countries. I am a prince by birth but not of the royal family. My father's sister married King Mark, so I am an in-law to the royal family. My father--God rest his soul--was a former Master of Offices as well as a cabinet minister; he died in a terrorist attack on this very palace which killed him, King James II and several others."

"That is why, by the way, the Heir is so very against communists," he explained, "It was operatives of a then-communist nation, Damoclea that packed the plane in question full of explosives and flew it at the palace. I heard some foreign prince who is an actual communist is coming to court her...that should go over well. But I understand that your own politics are quite different...even a tad reluctant, or do I presume too much in saying so?"

[The High Tatras]

"That poncy parade ground type is just trying to keep us out because he thinks we're a bunch of dirty commies!" said one of the soldiers.

"I assure all of you that there are legitimate security concerns. I asked you fools to behave yourselves and act diplomatically tonight." said the commanding officer.

"Your highness, you will vouch for us, won't you? You are our friend." said the soldier.

"You... You are just about my only friends... but orders are orders." said Prince Herbert.

"We do not take orders from foreign autocrats!" said the soldier.

"Then perhaps you will take orders from me, tovarysh!" shouted the commanding officer. He withdrew a nagaika from his belt and began whipping his unruly subordinate.

"They are truly a "People's Army", aren't they? I... I... I am so terribly sorry about this." said Prince Herbert as he blushed with humiliation.

"Have a ball, your highness!" said another soldier.

"Good luck, princess!" said yet another.

"Prince. His name is Herbert." said the former.

"I stand corrected. The pink hussar jacket confused me and he looks like he is wearing leggings." said the latter.

"He is probably wearing a corset under his jacket as well." snickered the former.

By this time Prince Herbert was already inside the palace, awaiting someone to greet him.

[New Edom]

The High Tatras

The rowdy soldiers were regarded with cold wary eyes by the New Edomite Hussars at the barricade; their shouting behaviour, their wild manner and dress had them edgy. The Senior Sergeant however waited quietly and set an example and muttered, "Easy, Hussars. They're just foreigners, but they have license as long as they don't behave too badly. Let it go."

Commies indeed, he thought, eying them with scorn but keeping his expression courteous. Extraordinary that this fellow was even invited, though at least he looked the part. As Herbert finally passed through the sergeant saluted him and said, "Just over there to the gate, sir." They would keep an eye on his entourage while he left though they were also supposed to guard the street...

Then through the gate, which was smoother as he had no entourage; here the guards wore full dress Cavalry Guards uniforms--white double breasted tunics with brass polished buttons, red and black epaulets, black trousers and riding boots, shakos. An official in a black uniform with silver frogging approached, bowing took his invitation and he was escorted in.

There the ball was in full swing, people enjoying dancing friskily, singing along with the orhestra as he passed through a hallway and then into the ballroom. A couple of people, laughing, a young woman in a green gown and a man in a white naval uniform ran hand in hand out through the double doors and ran down into a nearby gallery. A girl dusted with gold dust painted with roses, dark hair in a neat beehvie smiled and lowered her eyes and offered him a flute of champagne from a tray.

[New Korinth]

"Well," Aristarchos replied, "you'd be right in your presumption. From what I've observed, civilian governments are slow, unorganized, inefficient and only minutely effective. I suppose, though, that any government is better than the alternative." He thought briefly of the communist prince that Enoch had mentioned. Aristarchos would have to make sure to get a good view of his arrival.

"Still, Korinth has gotten some things right. For one thing, the government there only presumes to rule over one city, and relegates responsibility over their colonies to satraps like myself and my siblings. It's a very suitable arrangement for everyone involved, as it means my father only has to meet his children once every year. And now, what with his sending me to woo every princess in this hemisphere, he has found a chance to reduce those meetings to none."

"But enough of that. I shouldn't like to spoil the wine with the drama of the Korinthian court. What of New Edom? Surely in a region as interesting as this one, and in the midst of such change, there is drama enough to make even Korinth seem bland? And a man such as yourself, in such high office, must have some truly interesting stories to tell..."

If Aristarchos was to befriend the queen, and ask to marry her daughter, then he thought it prudent that he at least attempt to understand the mood of the court. At least, beyond what paltry morsels the discerning reader could glean from the newspapers.

[New Edom]

New Korinth

"I'm afraid it's a bit too exciting at the moment," explained Prince Enoch. "Where to begin? Surely you have heard that our former President of the Council of Ministers and all his cabinet were killed in a stadium accident when they went to see a football match? Well after that our country went into a constitutional crisis. First of all--our reigning queen--not the Queen Dowager over there but her elder daughter Queen Mara the First has lost her wits." he looked genuinely grimly sad at this. "A great tragedy, for she is a good hearted and noble person, generous and devoted to the good of the people. She had initiated some public works including the development of our Skyfarm projects--which convert buildings into greenhouses and hydropnics, a kind of urban farming project among other things.

"After the death of her father at the hands of murderous Damocleans, Queen Mara's mental health deteriorated. There was a confusion as to how to handle the matter, and during that time we were also planning electoral reforms. Well, a group called the Free Congress, dominated by the End Times Church, seized political power over several cities and three of our provinces and has stubbornly refused to take part in the elections or recognize the national government, claiming that the government is rightfully theirs by..." he put a hand to his temple. "My God it sounds complicated and ridiculous when I actually say it all out loud. Suffice it to say, we have this rebellion on our hands, led by the Prophet of the End Times Church, Samuel Under, and his political and religious followers. We have been trying to resolve it through a peace agreement but it may all fall apart any day."

[The High Tatras]

"Um... I appreciate the offer but... but I do not like to drink alcohol. I only have had it once and it did not end well for me. I think the Tatran soldiers called their drink "pertsivka"... and it really burns... and I vomited all over the floor. My brothers and sisters drink all the time... even if they are below the legal drinking age... but it is because they think they are above the law... and they get away with whatever they do when they are intoxicated. Can... Can you please brew me a cup of Darjeeling tea? I am... I am so very tired of Russian Caravan." muttered Prince Herbert in a shy and awkward manner to the lady with the champagne glasses. "That was way too much information. I need to stop rambling so much." he thought to himself.

[New Edom]

High Tatras

The young woman looked surprised, but said, "If you follow me, sir," she did not know his rank, "You will find that there is a tea station in the buffet room adjacent to the ballroom and that there is tea there." she led him, if he would follow, her smooth supple gold dusted back and flaring bare hips and bottom weaving their way across the dance floor in contrast with the gorgeous ball gowns and uniforms around her, and led him to where the buffet was spread with many Baran delicacies, and on a large white clothed table were large silver urns that dispensed both hot water and coffee, and there were cups for this and a young man, dressed as it were similarly to the young lady there.

"I brought you here sir as it is easier for guests to come here and be served things other than champagne," she explained with a smile. "Ask Tomas any tea you wish...I think this gentleman would like Darjeeling."

"Darjeeling sir," said the man, bowing, and poured the aromatic tea from one of the urns into a cup. "Would you care for anything with your tea sir?"

In addition to the tea of course there were skewers of shrimp on the table, samosas, spanikopita, hummous with triangles of pita, tabouleh salad, and new additions: crisp roasted little quail halves, a huge plate of assorted cheeses, a curious sort of miniature spicy pizza native to this country, stuffed vine leaves and grape leavces, halvah, baklava, cakes and other delicious finger foods. People moved around the table talking, men in tuxedos and uniforms, women in uniforms and ball gowns, medals glittering and gleaming, teeth flashing, cups lifting and falling.

[Ghant]

As the popular dance came to an end, Jocasta applauded with the others, and said. “Well you have very much put my mind to rest, thank you Prince Lucas, and I did enjoy dancing with you.” He was not quite as good a dancer as Alexander--indeed a fast foxtrot had nearly defeated him a few times but it was not comme il faut to tell him of course.

“The pleasure was mine, truly,” he said, inclining his head with a smile. “Now if you would excuse me, I should entertain dances with some other ladies as to not appear impolite. Should you wish to speak again, you need only call upon me. Perhaps a stroll in the garden, or something along those lines, I am at your disposal,” he said as he began to back away towards where he originated from.

While this conversation had been happening, Countess Jabbok had bowed to the Tsarevich Mikhail shortly after his own dance, and said, “Your Imperial Highness, i know we have not been formally introduced. I am Countess Emilia Jabbok, senior lady-in-waiting to Her Royal Highness the Heir. I have come to remind you that you wished to ask her to dance?”

Mikhail nodded, and spoke politely. “Why yes, I mean to ask her for such a boon, for I mean to be polite. Is now a good time?”

As the tenor was bowing, smiling, waving and getting off the stage, a waltz medley had begun to play, and Countess Jabbok smiled. “I think so, sir. Please have a good time…” she whispered to him the last words, “And relax! She won’t bite!”

Jocasta stood sipping a fizzy, smiling and listening to Princess Marie PIleser as the dancing began again, as people were choosing their partners and some coming off the dance floor fanning themselves.

The Tsarevich approached Jocasta, and bowed. “Dearest Crown Princess, might I request a dance with thee?” he asked her, extending his arm.

“Oh, another waltz, certainly Tsarevich Mikhail,” said Jocasta, going into his arms. She enjoyed the medley she had picked for this part, and she felt she could dance all night. “Oh my, I really love this selection of tunes don’t you? It makes me think of Papa, when we would get together sometimes when I was on holidays from Whitehaven, we would sing and dance…” she smiled wistfully. “Summer time in the warm evenings at Shiloam…”

“Yes, the music is quite lovely, your Highness,” Mikhail nodded with a shy smile. “...Warm summers, now I could get used to those. By the way, do you miss Whitehaven much? I can imagine it was much fun...I know University was,” he spoke as they began to dance. He considered himself a decent dancer...his only setback was that he was clumsy.

“I sometimes miss it, everything seemed so important, and yet now it all seems so innocent and sheltered,” Jocasta said with a short laugh and a smile. “Making sure you studied, playing tennis, swimming, and of course a lot of the stuff we did--arranging flowers, etiquette, learning about all kinds of social stuff...how to walk and talk and all that, in a way more important than you’d think...what do you miss about university?”

“That sounds like a grand old time. I can see why you might miss it...when all the care in the world was based on learning etiquette and arranging flowers,” he chuckled. “Everything moves so fast...gosh, University...I miss being around friends all of the time. Sure, many of them were regular people, but they were good, honest guys who knew how to have fun but still work hard. The routine of getting up and going to class, late night cram sessions for an exam, intellectual debates about anything and everything...the only responsibilities being the ones that pertained to school. And now, being forced to grow up...you don’t realize what you have until it is gone. I couldn’t imagine being in your position, at your age, with all that responsibility, and the pressure and expectations. Is it ever hard?” Mikhail was most curious by the look in his eye.

“Oh my gosh, it’s a lot of work,” Jocasta admitted. “But I wouldn’t trade it for anything, because I know how important it is that I do it, you see. Oh of course there are lots of people in government and really we could not run the country without them, but I am the example, with my sister so ill, of the House of Obed in its position that has held the country together for generations. As my ancestor King David the Lawgiver pulled a group of quarreling principalities together, as my ancestor King Josiah died a martyr to the Cornellian tyrant Gallus, as my ancestor Queen Adah the Liberator went from exile in the desert to a conqueror over that tyrant, as my father and uncle before me so am I. So….I wouldn’t go back to school, not never.”

“You know,” Mikhail began to say with a tilted head. “A closely guarded random factoid in Ghant is that Emperor Nathan is descended from Tiberius Gallus’s sister Sempronia. I learned that at University in my Imperial History course. Sometimes I wonder if more people knew that, if it would negatively impact Imperial reputation? Not that I am one to judge, considering some of the people I am descended from,” he said with a sigh.

“Oh Tsarevich, you seem a person bowed by worries. Of course you are--a great burden is on you and your Papa in your position. But the grace of God gives us peace over our ancestry, though we must be aware of it, yes?” she said sympathetically.

“Always aware. And yes, my father’s burden is great. He is an idealist, and the realities of rule are setting in. And with Vyrsar to the north, Austrania to the west, and the Macurean superstate to the south, there is little room for error or mistake. That is why I must be careful too...insofar as courtship is concerned. That is why I am here, after all. Ava…” Mikhail began, “is a lovely woman who makes my heart skip a beat. I am told that all I need to do is appeal to her brother and she would be mine...but would she ever truly be? I look at Michael, whom I have come to know quite well during my time here, who I consider friend, and dread his predicament. I don’t want to end up like him, with a woman that wants nothing to do with him, and shuns his company. She deserves better than that...I want Ava to be happy, and I get the feeling that she thinks me a fool…” he explained, sadly.

Jocasta listened to him, and gave a little sigh. “You are a thoughtful boy I see, Mikhail. Don’t worry so much about it. Be yourself and be good to her and it will probably be fine. My sister’s madness should not concern you, it is not normal. That’s why they call it madness, don’t you know. Before you consider what might maybe happen, think about this: you’ll have to have a few dinners and events with Prince Elijah and with Ava before your suit is considered seriously anyway. Just...enjoy those events, let your father and my cousin Elijah worry about planning the marriage.” she smiled at him. “Ava is a good person, she won’t be harsh or quick to judge. And that branch of the family don’t go mad, they’re just...rather serious.”

“Thank you, your Highness, that makes me feel a lot better,” Mikhail smiled bashfully. “...What happened to your sister, anyway? There are varying stories on it...if you don’t want to talk about it I understand.”

“Well it’s kind of you to ask, though it’s not much of something for a long discussion on such a night,” said Jocasta a little quietly. “You know, she took on the guilt of the troubles of our country and it drove her mad. She is spending a life doing penance now. It was hard on her. She was...very close to Papa, if I’m honest, and I think the grief really hurt her too. She is a fragile person.”

“That is very sad. I know Michael tried to be there for her and support her...I worry about him sometimes. I know one night, we stayed up late and hung out, until we fell asleep. I remember waking up to use the bathroom and leave him be, and he was having a nightmare or some kind of a bad dream. He was talking in his sleep...he was saying, ‘ez zen tunelaren’, or, ‘it wasn’t the tunnel...not sure what that means,” Mikhail nodded. “He seems to be enjoying himself though, being here at court and dancing with all these ladies...and he is saving the one with you for last,” he smiled. “Because you always save the best dance for last.”

Jocasta blushed and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re a sweet man, Mikhail. I hope things work with Ava. I’ll put in a good word for you. With her I mean.”

Mikhail blushed something fierce. “Oh? You would do that for me? To what do I owe the pleasure of your good word? Besides being a sweet, thoughtful man as you say,” he said with a sheepish smile.

“I think you two would have enough in common to be happy,” said Jocasta truthfully. “I think that a gentle and shy man might be good for her. She likes reading, you like reading, you like peace and quiet and so does she. My cousin Elijah cares about her but he is a brusque and rather remote man, a contrast might be very good for her too.” she shrugged. “Anyway I will tell her that you care about how she feels and do not merely see her as a title, and would like to get to know her as far as I know--would you like that?”

“I would...very much so,” Mikhail said appreciatively. “That might help out a lot, at least in terms of letting her know that I am genuinely interesting in getting to know her. I mean, some would say that I could marry a Roman girl and earn the support of Rome for Nekulturnya, but why not New Edom?” Mikhail asked. “With someone like you at the helm, I would feel quite good about that.”

“Aw, you say the sweetest things, thank you,” said Jocasta, smiling at him. “Let’s enjoy the rest of the dance then.”

“You are welcome, and thank you,” he said, before thinking. “Oh, one more thing before I forget,” Mikhail caught himself. “...Do you enjoy reading, out of curiosity?”

“Sometimes, it depends on what,” said Jocasa. “I never seem to have any time lately.”

“...History,” he clarified, in the throes of the dance.

“Oh. Yes, sometimes,” said Jocasta.

“That’s good to know…” Mikhail said with a nod. He wasn’t about to spoil what the big surprise she had coming later on was, but at least she would appreciate it, apparently. The Tsarevich focused on enjoying the rest of his dance with Jocasta in any case, feeling most uplifted by talking to her. When it came time for it to end, he could walk away quite enthusiastically.

[The High Tatras]

As he cautiously sipped his tea, Prince Herbert thought about the situation he was currently in, trying to put it in the perspective of his life thus far.

He had always been the favorite child in the royal family. His mother and father had showered him with gifts and affection, and the courtly circles were charmed by the precocious and inquisitive young boy, even though he was often quite bashful. As the boy grew and matured, he was still beloved by nearly everyone. His teachers and professors adored him during his years studying at "St. Bernard Academy for Young Gentlemen", although he had very few friends who were his own age. Yet as soon as he revealed the controversial political and social views he had developed as an intellectual, everyone he knew turned his back on him. He was denounced by those who had previously supported him, he was portrayed as a traitor by the media, his parents disassociated themselves from him, and his jealous siblings tried to kill him. The court intrigue and feudalistic disputes between his siblings seemed especially flippant and petty given how ineffectual their personal fiefdoms were from the perspective of the wider world.

So he was forced to flee from his homeland and the only nation willing to shelter him was a tin pot Eastern European one that seemed eternally trapped in the 1940s. Now he was attending a ball that he was invited to almost as an afterthought, to meet a princess who he knew he did not stand a snowball's chance in hell of actually winning the heart of. Certainly not given how shy and awkward he always was in social situations.

"Um... I'm fine, thank you." said the prince to the server. Then he wandered onto the dance floor and waited, hoping that someone... anyone would notice him and perhaps choose to dance with him. He was in fact an excellent dancer, having spent many hours training with professionals when he was in boarding school (this was one of the mandatory courses), but he was too scared to ask a lady to dance with him.

[New Korinth]

"Oh my," Aristarchos said, his eyes wide. "That certainly is quite a bit to deal with." Internally, he thought to himself, I'm trying to marry into this mess? Perhaps my father doesn't want me far away...he wants me dead.

"Had I known there was so much going on I would've read up on it. As it is, I have only cursory knowledge of New Edom, what they teach at school and the like. Still, it is an interesting situation..." he lapsed momentarily into deep thought, before snapping back to a conversational tone. "I don't suppose you could point out this Princess Jocasta everyone's going on about? I'd heard she was beautiful but, looking around the dancefloor now, I see that that's no rarity in your country, so I hope I can be forgiven if I don't recognize her right away."

Perhaps the mess in this country isn't a bad thing, Aristarchos thought. He had led enough battles to know that chaos and disorder, when used to one's advantage, were often the perfect foundations for success. Out of the corner of his eye, Aristarchos regarded the Queen Dowager, still in conversation with the unknown man. That woman, he thought, is the key. An alliance with the mother would almost certainly secure a marriage with the daughter. But first, he had to introduce himself. The strategic side of his mind, which some would say developed so extensively at the cost of his common sense, began to race. And then, as quickly as he had started thinking on it, he had a plan.

[New Edom]

New Korinth

"Yes, I think that while some wags say that military intelligence is an oxymoron, it is better than none at all," said Prince Enoch drily. "Ours is a complicated nation, Prince Aristarchos. Complicated by religion, ethnicity, potliics, economics, the whole nine yards." He smiled at him. "Right now in this very province in which this city is, a mere 300 kilometers away are the dividing lines, rather poorly if you ask me held by the well meaning but currently hapless Conrellian Peacekeeping Organization between our loyally held towns and villages and the rebel held city and towns of Harbourtown and its satellites. A mere three hundred klicks, and there you will find disputed territory, insurgents, hostile naval forces in standoff, blockades, air units attempting to maintain patrols, and the negotiations probably now like an old barn past its time ready to fall down. So...praise the courage of the Heir, Prince, in holding this ball and thinking towards the future."

He waved a hand and sipped his champagne and said, "But why not make merry, why not think of our brilliant future? Our...oh i think he's left or gone to take a piss or something--Foreign Minister, the Heir's cousin, has just planned to spend over 2 billion on a new education bill, while our Minister of the Environment and interior is spending just as much if not more on agricultural reform. So we are in spite of everything an optimistic people who trust in the benevolence of God, you see. Now there is the main object of this optimism over there, and you must judge for yourself what you will risk and devote yourself too."

Princess Jocasta was dancing with a nice young man with sandy brown hair and blue eyes wearing a well tailored evening suit (identified by Prince Enoch as the Tsarevich of the Grand Empire of Nekulturnya), a young woman of slightly below medium height with light olive skin and a supple voluptuous figure, her gleaming dark hair piled into a crown of braids, glittering with jewels, her blue jeweled gown spreading like a bell, revealing the upper curves of her splendid bosom, gloves on her dainty fingers, her steps to the waltz light easy and practiced. She seemed to be talking to the young man in a friendly animated way.

"The Tsarevich's father seeks to marry him to her cousin, who is the younger sister of the Regent of our country, Prince Elijah. That's the Regent over there..." he indicated a tall, austere looking man in a naval uniform wearing what most navies would indicate to be the gold bands of an admiral, with gold braid and three rows of decorations on his white uniform. He had a gloomy serious look like a man in a medieval painting, short dark hair, a dark olive tan, large eyes, a long slightly hooked nose and drooping mouth, and was talking in a solemn way to two male guests wearing a black and a red dress uniform respectively. "The sister is the Princess Ava, she's the plump though pretty one dancing with that Air Force general over there. A gentle soul, retiring and poetic. But you of course are interested in the Heir...but now you know a little of who is who." Enoch drained his glass and handed it to a male servant passing by.

[New Edom]

The High Tatras

Herbert being a trained dancer obviously knew how to walk through a ballroom, avoiding getting in anyone's way but having a look about. He caught snatches of conversation randomly.

I've got my eye on that filly, I think she'll be a good one in the next season...

Who did you say the sire was again?

Who'd have thought, Lalery practically a socialist with this new agrarian reform bill--

I heard it was Sharra's idea, and that Lalery is just trying to buy off the Elwe tribes..

Where isLalery anyway? Did he go home already? You'd think he'd dance with that Ghantish lady he's supposed to be courting at least more than once...

The rebels are mostly full of ETC rabble in the ranks, which is why we shall cut 'em up...

Herbert nearly ran into a fair haired, freckled boyish girl wearing a green hussar style jacket with black embroidered frogging, wearing a calf length skirt and black boots who muttered, in Edomite accent, "Oh excuse me..." and hurried around him. Then there was a polite tap on his shoulder, and he found himself facing two other people.

One was a plump short man with a ballooning belly showing that his tuxedo was doubtless personally tailored as it nevetheless fit him well, wearing two medals on his lapel, his bald head shining olive in the chandelier lights and round spectacles on a pointy nose; he smiled and gave a little bow. The other was a a lady in a deep red taffeta and lacy silk ball gown that showed off a voluptuous well pampered figure, dark hair and right wrist enclosed in a snaky silver bracelet that twisted up her supple arm, who smiled at him; she was in her thirties at least but seemed very attractive.

"Young man you look a trifle lost, and I think that is a foreign uniform as we don't have any in that colour--cherry, green, blue, black and crimson we have but not pink, though we should, probably. Please allow me to introduce myself: I am Basil Jerome, Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs, and this lady is Mrs. Dahlia Kiron, the widow of the late General Jedediah Kiron."

"How do you do young man? May we have the honour of knowing to whom we are speaking?" she asked in a melodious contralto.

[New Korinth]

"Well, a little perspective is always helpful. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed, you know, what with how your people seem to manage so well. And so close to an active front! If Korinth were in this same situation I daresay you'd find her people huddled under desks and frozen with fear, but you Edomites seem a tough bunch."

"But," Aristarchos continued, adjusting his attention towards Jocasta who was twirling away on the dancefloor, "not so tough as to lack the propensity to be delicate. She certainly is a finer creature than I was expecting. I'm sure you know what they tell young men sent off to court a foreign lady: that she's the finest creature this side of the Tartarian Ocean, or perhaps that she's Helen reincarnated. So rarely do such raving tributes turn out to be true, but.. as it happens, the Princess is everything one hears. I suppose I'll have to try and see if I can get the next dance."

"In the meanwhile," he said, turning towards Enoch and gesturing to the chatting couple behind him, "whoever is that fellow hogging the Queen Dowager? He's certainly an animated little man, isn't he?"

[McNernia]

Betheran Palace,Fineberg
New Edom

"I am a fighter pilot my dear Countess who has been shot down and wrestled a burning Phantom back to base before ejecting onto the runway as my plane exploded. A training accident was it. I was shot down in combat once, I think.....I may be a knight of the air but I am still quite mortal." He was a Soviet advisor, the Africans had some good men too. But well he was better than they could be owing to the fact a squad must have flown direct from Ukraine or something? Fredrick often remembered bits and pieces from the war at some other times. "I am a warrior of the air my dear. And well if you feel small your not the first woman who said that. Many women at Court in Griffindon have said that."

"Truly it was a pleasure to dance with a being like yourself. You seem to be quite the woman." And she was to Fredericks secretly lovesick eyes. The whole business of his visit was to patch up relations. He wanted a woman to boot because the idea of spending his days unmarried was something he found Anathema.

Her dark pools of eyes were something that were tearing at his soul. The screaming of engines was heard, a sort of warning his brain put out. He could hear the beeping as well, surely what...she was going to be perhaps the one. She was beautiful, bust and figure in the right place. He could see the nose, he was downright worried about harming the reputation of his family. And well he was infatuated with her.

The Prince felt her warmth leave him. His hands came together in the clapping like a machine. He looked at his former dance partner. The Countess Lavina was beautiful. "I dont know, quite often if you dont have a dance card you can keep your partner." Fredrick did not want to leave her. Then again the heir. The Heir of New Edom, one had to perhaps wonder if the girl was, mad with the power of the job. "I dont know....foxtrot...Ill come back for you dear Countess. The business of finding another partner. I dont know." He went around to look for the cavalry girl with the blond hair. But. Goddamn it. "Will you take the next dance after this one with me perhaps?"

[The High Tatras]

Herbert blushed after he heard the comment about his pink hussar jacket, but his heart began racing when he noticed the beautiful lady. She was attractive but he was also intimidated by how much older she was than him.

"I am sorry for your loss Mrs. Kiron. I am... I am... Well... My name is Herbert, and until very recently I was the heir to the throne of an ineffectual microstate nestled in the Alps. I... I have no idea who I am now. This... This royal life is the only life I have ever known, but it seems there is no place in that world for me anymore. I was quite surprised I was even invited to be here tonight." said Prince Herbert to the lady.

"You are being much too honest. Remember that is what got you into trouble in the first place." he thought to himself.

[New Edom]

New Korinth

"Yes she is beautiful," said Prince Enoch. His expression softened a bit. "More beautiful perhaps in some ways than Queen Mara, though..." Though not in spirit. None can match that. He felt a sudden wave of intense sadness.

"That is the Ditor of Akai," replied Prince Enoch, nodding to the slim young man near the Queen Dowager. "So he may monopolize her for a little bit. I think that..." he paused. "Ah, as this dance comes to a close, i see that the McNernian Prince is distracted, and that the Tsarevich is ending his dance. This could be your opportunity. I wish you the best of luck." You're on your own, but my work is done, he thought. For now. He glanced at the King-Consort across the dance floor and smiled.

The dance was indeed coming to an end. Princess Jocasta and the Tsarevich exchanged bows and she spoke to him in a friendly way with a laughing smile, clearly enjoying herself.

The next number began to play--a brief fanfare, and then the portly tenor went back to the podium and began to sing again, with sentimentality and charm. The ball guests who enjoyed a bit of swing on the dance floor began to dance while others left.

McNernia

Countess Lavinia Nabal gasped. "You got out of a burning plane to safety...how amazing, I could not imagine having such courage and resourcefulness. Only a training exercise, my goodness. I'm so glad you made it out alright."

As he spoke further, she blushed and smiled as he became flustered, and said, "I am glad I am that...er...being...and I would be delighted to dance with you again, sir, I hope that it will be soon..." she let her voice trail off, and said as he glancd at the young fair haired hussar officer, "That's Captain Adah Weber--General Romain's ADC, from the 14th Hussars I believe. Younger sister to the commander of the 21st Lancers. A very staunch Monarchist family. No title. Not much money either, but very loyal." she dimpled and said, "Until later then? I suppose I've no right to be jealous..." she began to turn away.

The hussar officer smiled as she spoke to an approaching Claudia Zecharias, a young woman curvy, hourglass figure with generous breasts like firm, ripe melons. The decolletage of her green ball gown barely hid the middle of her bosom--it was cunningly designed so that with each breath a man might watch to see if it would though. Strong body yet very feminine, she had well rounded firm hips; while the skirt of her dress appeared nearly transparent, this was the cunning of the weave and lightness of the material; it was as though she was wearing gossamer and lace below the waist that floated elegantly around her but was in fact perfectly modest.

"Adah, there you are," exclaimed Claudia. "Wow what fun. I haven't spoken to you face to face since school...I can't believe it, the very picture of a soldier now! Do you like it?"

"Oh I couldn't ask for better," cried Adah, embracing her, her boyish figure and slim arms in sharp contrast. "But who could be more beautiful than you--except maybe the Heir of course..."

"Of course the Heir, but you flatter me too much...have you seen Papa, he'd love to see you..."

"Yes, him I'd love to see, may I have supper with you tonight if not much else is going on?" Adah asked her hopefully.

"Of course sweetheart...so many lovely men, you look so sweet in your girlish cavalry uniform, have you had many dances?" Claudia asked, squeezing her arm. "Oh listen, how lovely the next tune!"

The High Tatras

"Thank you, I'm afraid my husband's loss was also that of the country, he was Chief of Staff of the Air Force," explained Mrs. Kiron. "Well I miss him but i must now live for my service to Her Majesty the Dowager as a lady-in-waiting, and in devotion to my children," she smiled a melancholy smile. "But I am enjoying everyone having such a lovely time here."

"You are surprised to be invited, eh?" said Basil Jerome in a jovial manner. "Well, you must make the most of it. I am an untitled man of good birth from a minor family, you have to make the most of things. I found I was able to do it by doing work, administrative stuff don't you know, that many others didn't want to do. And so here I am. Having arrived, you must enjoy yourself, enjoy the food, enjoy the company. So you are no longer heir to your throne, or are not sure?"

"Basil, I'm not sure he wants to talk about it," said Mrs. Kiron with a smile.

"Oh, I beg your pardon, if you don't want to!" exclaimed the portly civil servant.

[Ghant]

Queen Izolde of Izotza surveyed the assortment of food and beverages that were out. What she did sample was quite good...although she was hungry. Despite the fact that Count Lalery had taken his leave of the ball, she knew that her evening was not over…at least not yet anyway. Looking around for someone interesting to talk to, she noticed Admiral Prince Regent Elijah, and decided rather quickly that he was someone she considered worth talking to. So it was that she floated her way over in his general direction, even as she glanced at some of the most recently arrived princelings. Not impressed.

“Well, sir,” said General Dorian Hermengild, who was talking to him, “This ball seems to have made a favourable impression on the community, both foreign and domestic.”

“Indeed sir,” said General John Ashdod, putting a cigarillo to his mouth and drawing on it. “The Heir is cutting quite the figure.”

“Must you smoke?” said Hermengild irritably.

Izolde came upon the group of men, and curtsied to them politely. Demurely she said, “I hope I am not interrupting.”

“Queen Izolde,” said Prince Elijah, glancing at her with his dark melancholy eyes. “I saw you earlier receiving the courtesy of General Ashdod. May I present also Brigadier-General Dorian Hermengild, who is Adjutant-General to the Governor of Haran Province?”

This other man, tall though not so tall as Prince Elijah, with dark weathered olive tan and a rather seamed and craggy face, with short dark salt and pepper hair and wearing a cherry red uniform dress tunic, sword and dark blue trousers tucked into riding boots, bowed deeply. “A great honour Your Majesty,” he said.

“Thank you gentlemen,” Izolde said with a grin. “A pleasure as well, rest assured, to be in the presence of such accomplished men.” she turned to Hermengild. “Your name sounds German...there are few such sounding names in New Edom. I wonder...how did that come to pass?”

“My ancestors were German, and came to New Edom originally as traders when Haran was still just an area of city states and tribes, in the 17the Century,” said Hermengild with a smile cracking his tough looking face. “However I and my family really see ourselves as Haranese.”

“Spectacular,” she responded, nodding her head. “And what of you gentlemen? Not on the floor dancing anymore?”

“I rarely dance with anyone but my wife,” said Hermengild. “My wife is an excellent woman of fine character, and it is not Haranese custom to dance with a lot of women. In fact in Haran mostly the sexes dance with one another, unlike the Baran barbarians.” This made Ashdod laugh and Elijah smile briefly.

“I am a little tired,” admitted Ashdod. “I’m not as young as I was.”

Prince Elijah said nothing and sipped his fizzy.

“Too tired to dance eh?” Izolde teased. “I have heard that line before. The Emperor often says that. Talks about his feet getting sore,” she sniggered slightly.

The two generals chuckled, Prince Elijah glanced at her without expression. General Ashdod said, “Often eh? And the Emperor travels a great deal too eh, with increasingly friendly company I hear.”

“There are two kinds of men in the world,” Izolde pointed out. “Those whom trouble avoid, and those whom trouble find. The Emperor is the latter. I wonder, which one are you, General Ashdod?”

Ashdod drew on his cigarillo and looked at her thoughtfully, and blew smoke away from the group. “You know what they say, O Queen. There are two kinds of people in the world. Those who divide everyone into two categories, and those who don’t.”

Izolde laughed at that. “Wise words, truly.” Then she turned to Elijah. “Admiral Prince Regent, you might be the most accomplished man in the room...for surely becoming at least one of those three things is a hard enough feat. And yet, you have become all three. Dare I ask what your recipe for success is?”

Prince Elijah smiled faintly. “Success? I merely do what any man in my position would do: my duty. People have said I was courageous facing the Norvenian fleets that threatened us. I merely did my duty, there was nothing else to do. Focusing on fear and duty was a waste of time. Things like that. Prince? I am of the blood royal. It is merely a title that evokes history, but this sort of thing means something to men and women, so I do my duty as it is required. And as Regent--it is my duty to establish the most honourable peace and government as a citizen as well as those other things.”

“But you have done them superbly,” observed General Ashdod with a smile. Prince Elijah seemed more irritated than anything else by this remark and grimaced.

“Some men take their duties more seriously than others...merely taking them seriously can be a challenge for some,” Izolde mused. “Merely an evocative title you say? The Blood Royal is something to be proud of...at least as many a Ghantar would have you believe. For it is said that there is power in a King’s blood, and that the blood will tell.”

“Good God, I hope not,” said Prince Elijah. “If the blood of some royals...present company excepted of course...is telling of anything then destiny is doom.”

“And to those, I would say, why not simply surrender to one’s doom, since one was so clearly, so spectacularly doomed?” Izolde laughed. “I inherited Izotza from an eight-hundred year old dynasty gone extinct. The last Vangalesh was my grandmother’s second cousin. Kukavanger Vangalesh was many things...but one thing he was above all others was a man that knew who and what he was, good and bad. Alas, one of those things was doomed, and he met it with grace and dignity. Others, however...doom for them is something that lurks, waiting...they try to fight it, resist it, because they know it is coming and yet do everything to fight it. Yet, ironically, the more you fight it the faster it consumes.”

“Very interesting,” said General Hermengild a trifle dubiously.

Admiral Shalmaneser said “I was more implying that your Emperor is of royal blood yet is a fool. it seems to attack your theory somewhat.”

“On the contrary,” Izolde began to explain. “Nathan is a man very concerned about avoiding doom, which leads him to do things to avoid it. Yet, the more he does to resist it, the more it consumes him. Take Jehenna for instance. His northerly trip was supposed to strengthen his rule, yet it had the adverse effect. A shame he doesn’t seem to realize that.”

“He worries too much about what other people think of him,” said Prince Elijah, “Yet does not wish to please them in the ways they demand. That’s why. He should either simply do what would please others or do what is dutiful and wise. Happiness is sometimes possible, it is always possible to do one’s duty.”

“You are an example to us all, sir,” said General Ashdod.

“And what about the King Consort?” Izolde asked. “What kind of man do you think is he?”

“He’s trying to figure out what kind of man he is. He wants to be a good man, I think, but is very emotional about it,” replied Prince Elijah. “Why do you ask?”

“Because he and Nathan don’t get along. The Emperor is made to feel insecure. Makes me wonder why,” Izolde said with a raised eyebrow. “And certainly a man in your position might wonder the same, if only because understanding things could prove quite useful.”

:Is he not your head of state? said Prince Elijah witheringly.

“He is, by ancient treaty,” Izolde nodded. “Yet he is quite enigmatic all the same. He doesn’t fraternize with his vassals often.”

General Ashdod observed her. “One might wonder then Queen Izolde where your concerns lie, except that we know you supported Emperor Albert in supporting the Heir. And then later in supporting the Regency. You are a very adaptable leader it seems.”

“...Because I have to be what I must be in order to ensure the long term viability of my Kingdom and my House,” Izolde said after inclining her head. “I mean to see ties to New Edom strengthened, and to let our commitment to our alliance be known. We don’t shy from our commitments. We reinforce them, paid for in blood. That is why I took Count Lalery’s interest in courting me seriously. And yet, as entertaining as he is, he is not the only eligible Edomite of high birth worthy of being the Ice King,” speaking that last sentence to no one in particular.

The three men regarded her a moment, and General Hermengild then said with a smile, “But I’m already married, Queen Izolde.” General Ashdod laughed.

“I however am not,” General Ashdod said humorously and a bit slyly.

“...Is that so? Yet are you still too tired for a dance, General? I would prefer a King with the strength to endure the many trials that life poses...aching feet included,” Izolde explained with a half-grin and a raised eyebrow.

“And I would not be so foolish as to not bow to a greater man,” said General Ashdod. “I know my limits. Sir, I think that the lady is talking about you by the way,” he said to Prince Elijah.

“Ah,” said Prince Elijah. “But Count Lalery is closer in the succession than I.” he spoke as though it were merely of academic concern, peering at Izolde with frowning curiosity.

“Being Queen of one country is hard enough...I couldn’t imagine being Queen of two. And personal unions are such a queer business...imagine the King of New Edom having feudal kingship of a Ghantish Province. That could get interesting,” Izolde laughed.

“It could happen at any time anyway,” said Prince Elijah. He looked at her thoughtfully. “Well, you seem true to form anyway. And you seem to be an intelligent, attractive woman of excellent breeding and family. Would you like to marry me?”

“Possibly,” Izolde said in earnest. “I must evaluate any and all potential suitors...just as you are doing for your sister’s suitors, my friend the Tsarevich included.”

Prince Elijah smiled for the first time, and it seemed to warm his face as a fire blooming in a fireplace might warm a cold room. “I see. Well that seems fair and wise. I hope that it works out for the best. For my part I was engaged once before, it was not suitable either to my family, to me or the country. Whatever consideration is given, you have my respect.” he inclined his head.

“Likewise,” Izolde said as she inclined her head, respectfully. “Although, you could start by asking me to dance, if you are interested truly.”

“If you would care to, certainly,” said Prince Elijah. He extended his hand. “Would you care to dance?”

“I would,” Izolde smiled as she extended her arm out towards Elijah.

Prince Elijah was very well trained musically, had a good sense of rhythm, and was a good dancer, and much taller, so that they were a well balanced couple as they moved out onto the floor.

Izolde was an accomplished ballroom dancer herself, and was comfortable and at ease dancing with the Prince. “Oh, my, do you ever have sure feet!”

“Thank you. I enjoy dancing,” replied Prince Elijah. “It is relaxing. Do you enjoy it as well?”

“I do, when the partner is good at it,” she grinned as she let him set the pace of the dance.

Prince Elijah said quietly, “I don’t know much about this sort of thing. Courtship. I understand leadership, I understand responsibility. I even understand sex. I do not understand courtship. The requirements elude me. I am a good naval officer--I am flattered with being a very talented one. I am told I am doing well as head of state; I know I did well as Minister of Defense for Dengali and as Governor of Etruria Majora Protectorate. I have done well by the land that my family owns. But courtship, poetry, romance, are things alien to me, and I do not believe it is for lack of trying. I have no sincerity for this.”

“Well, it is like what I said earlier...understanding yourself is half the battle,” Izolde said thoughtfully. “But understanding other people...that’s a real challenge. If I am to be courted by the Admiral Prince Regent, Then I want to know who and what he is...what makes him tick, all those little things about him, you see. And, you are off to a decent start,” she said, reassuringly.

“Thank you, I will bear that in mind,” he said with a smile.

[New Korinth]

"Ah, well, it seems the next song is on," Aristarchos said to Enoch, "I think I'll try and get the next dance with the princess, this seems like a tune even I could dance to. It's been a pleasure chatting with you, Prince Tubal-Cain. I do hope there are others like it in the near future." He nodded with a grin and departed.

Aristarchos turned towards the dancefloor and began to wade across the sea of bodies, heading towards Jocasta. His grey uniform, a practical suit meant to be worn in the field as well as for ceremony, contrasted noticeably with the colorful gowns and hussar's coats of the other dancers. Nonetheless, it was a uniform that complemented an athletic build beautifully, and Aristarchos cut a dashing figure as he strode willfully towards the princess.

When he arrived near her he bowed slightly and said, "Khaíre, Princess Jocasta! I am Prince Aristarchos of New Korinth. I wondered if I might have the pleasure of the next dance with your Royal Highness?" He smiled, a white flash of teeth, and awaited her reply.

[The High Tatras]

Prince Herbert thought about what Basil Jerome had to say. He had never had to work hard for anything in his life, and he knew this and felt terribly guilty about it. No, he definitely did not want to talk about the recent events that had made his entire world come crashing down and ultimately forced him to flee his country. How was he supposed to enjoy himself? He had never liked social events and functions with crowds and noise and always found them to be stressful. Besides, his likelihood of being noticed seemed fairly low. At best, he had been described by others as "cute" or more recently as "pretty", but some of the other princes looked "dashing", "debonair", or "suave". More importantly, he no longer had any land or gold to offer that might prove attractive to a potential spouse (or more likely to their parents). Sure, he was willing to go way out of his way to make someone feel special, but recent events had made it become brutally obvious to him that he was not skilled in the art of politics. Which was perhaps surprising, because he loved history and politics and had studied them extensively. Maybe he was just too curious? No, that was impossible, as he thinks curiosity is a good thing. He recalled all of the many times he had asked his parents and teachers questions about the world around him that they could not answer.

So deep was he in thought that he did not notice when he ran into Princess Ava.

"Oh! I... I... I am so sorry. Um... Uh..."

He blushed and tried to walk away.