NATION

PASSWORD

A Yearning for Yuletide [IC, Closed Invite Only]

Where nations come together and discuss matters of varying degrees of importance. [In character]
User avatar
Emerstari
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 441
Founded: Oct 22, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

A Yearning for Yuletide [IC, Closed Invite Only]

Postby Emerstari » Mon Nov 30, 2020 11:05 pm

Image

A Yearning for Yuletide


A peace was befallen upon the grounds of Miþborg, a cold peace and a quiet peace, for, by now, the birds of migration had removed themselves southward, and the animals of hibernation had entered into their dormancy. No rabbit scuttled to and fro on the lawn, nor did any deer browse; of man, likewise, there was not a single one to be seen, as none wished to subject himself to the doings of such a wintry warlock, lest he be frozen. Within the palace itself, however, it being sheltered and teened from the season, there was not a qualm voiced. Neither was there any discontent, with surely enough heat being forthbrought by the kitchen. Therein, chefs toiled, with ovens ablaze, dough kneaded, and soups bubbling. Adjacent from the kitchen, staff of the foot ran about the halls, stringing up the last of the decorations and arranging tables.

"Stop there for a moment, if you would?" called a man emerged into the King's Corridor, who was immediately distinguished from all others by the manner of his appearance, that is his clothing and his age.
"Yes, my lord?" responded he, whom the aforesaid distinguished man had called.
"If you might, go, see to it that His Majesty is going to be properly prepared for the day's function."

The servant nodded in the affirmative, and he was gone in a moment, removing himself thence to the King's Chambers. He knocked upon the oaken doors of the room, once and then twice before he estranged one ever so slightly passed the threshold and stated, "Your Majesty, forgive me for my disturbance, but I'm come with a suggestion from His Grace, the Lord Steward, that you begin preparation for the day's forthcoming events."

The King was already sat upon the side of his bed, and he had been so since sometime prior to the coming of the servant, who was shielded by the door: "You've caused no disturbances. You may open the door further if you wish." The King's words were done, and the door was opened further, that the King could see whom he spoke. "Mister Hrolfssen," recognized His Majesty. This Hrolfssen, Ketel Friþrik Hrolfssen, was a comparatively young fellow, but one older than Erik X Gustaf, — it being the Christmas of 1918, Erik was eighteen and several months whereas Hrolfssen was twenty-three, with the waxing and waning of November's moon. "I'll not need any help in my preparations, but tell me, — or if you don't know, please find out, — has the Duke of Hventien yet arrived?"
"He ought to be, sir. He is set to arrive by noon"
"Great. Thank you, Hrolfssen; that's all."

The Duke of Whentii was the Lord Marshal of Emerstari, a position that had been held by the same family, — his family (the Lejonhofeds), — since the fifteenth century. More than that, he was a member of the Privy Council and a most respected peer in the House of Lords, as well as a wealthy, landowning individual. Even more than that, the King was closely acquainted with him via friendship with his sons in childhood; however, the reason wherefore His Majesty sought that information from Hrolfssen concerned none of those things. Indeed, thoughts of the Duke brought up not the Duke himself, but of the Duke's daughter, one Natalie Jakoba, for at his coronation on exactly two years ago, save a day, she had been seated next to him. The two were seated next to each other as a result of a secret covenant involving the Archbishop of Upsel, the Kingfather, and the Duke himself that had the ultimate goal of securing an heir for the throne. This covenant was a secret one, though; it was one with which both Erik and Natalie were unfamiliar, arranged marriages now being unfashionable, requiring parents to be more sly. Regardless of its secrecy, it was a successful plot, and Erik eagerly waited.

"Who would those arrivers be?" Natalie asked, — that is, Natalie Jakoba Lejonhofed. She stood in a small semi-circle with His Majesty and several other Eirikrians, ones by the names of Soren, Ingolf, and Hrafna.
The one by the name of Ingolf further asked, "Those can't be the Soumian cousins, can they be? No, no they're not?"
"No they're not indeed," Erik said, "those are the Phoenixians."
"In Markion?"
"Yeah. Arriving would be King Charles and his house." Erik split from the group, asserting, "I suppose I should go greet them, lest I should be a bad host."
"You've heard what happened to Cousin Vilhjalm Þjod, or no?" Soren probed, now that Erik was away.
"No, what?"
"Oh, well, right before the Christmas Peace and the Battle of Euchelle, he fell off his horse in a parade and broke his arm."
"That's a rather dreary way to be this time of year."
"Yeah."

The Emerstarian monarch neared his Phoenixian counterpart as the latter entered the Hall. "It's quite nice to see you here, Charles. I would hope that your journey was pleasant? It's quite some ways from Phoenixia to Miþborg." Erik extended his hand for a shake.
"It is quite a way, but the travelling was just fine," Charles answered, accepting the shake.
"Thanks be to God then." Erik acknowledged the Phoenixian queen, likewise the royal children, then he turned himself about: "Well, tonight the palace is yours as much as it is mine. I must briefly attend elsewhere, but I'll be back shortly should you need anything." Following their responses, Erik watched the Phoenixian royals dissipate into the crowd of their peers, then he briefly turned his head, seeing Natalie, Ingolf, and all in his peripheral vision. He started to head towards them, but it all faded away...

Erik woke up, — it had all been a dream, or, indeed, a memory. No longer was this man a youthful and gallant monarch, but a tired and sequestered retiree of an exceptionally advanced age. He slowly pulled himself from off his bed and sat on its side, looking about the room before him. Thence, he cleared his throat and carefully knelt on a rug nigh to a window, that the light therefrom might shine on it. Erik closed his eyes and spoke a prayer aloud; he orated the words without even a single stutter, for this process was not anything new to him, having performed it each and every day for the last twenty-some years since Natalie passed.

He rose up and made a trudge to the bathroom wherein he freshened himself for the day. It was the twenty-fourth of December, the eve of Christ's birth, and exactly one hundred years after the events of this dream. When out of the bathroom, Eherik headed to the dining room of his cottage. "Good morning, Mister Jakobssen," he said, sitting at the table as the aforesaid Mister Jakobssen set a plate before him. Jakobssen, that is Harald Ælfrik Jakobssen, had begun attending the old king in August 1972 when he was a mere twenty-seven years old, and he was still at it now in December 2018. Although, back then he was just a staffer for the late Mister Hrolfssen. Now, he was the Head of Staff.

"Good morning, Sir," Jakobssen answered. "Quite a nice morning, too. Why, Rudolfssen was just a half an hour ago taking the hounds out, and those dogs were goodly happy in the snow."
"That is most delightful to hear. Thank you, Mister Jakobssen."
"My pleasure, Sir. Might you be requiring anything else for the moment?"
"Not at the moment, no."
"Then I shall be in the kitchen if you do." Mister Jakobssen bowed his head unto Erik, thereafter taking his leave from the dining room.

Erik ate his breakfast, — a meal consisting of a scrambled egg and several slices of bread topped in jam with a glass of milk, — and then moved to the living room. There, he positioned himself in the foremost chair and took to reading Olof Krutsner's Adventures, an Emerstarian classic and one of his favorites, after a brief stint of listening to the radio. Erik got himself caught up in the book, and before long, it was half past eleven. "Sir?" Jakobssen said, standing in the threshold of the living room and the dining room.

"Is it truly time already, Mister Jakobssen?"
"It is indeed, Sir. Are you ready?"
"I certainly believe I am. Let us make haste, I say."
"Of course. The car is prepared just outside." Jakobssen handed Erik his coat, hat, and maud then escorted him out to the car

"Good day, Sir," Mister Olofssen greeted Erik. Olofssen, a man about fifteen years Mister Jakobssen's junior, was the another senior staffer of Erik's: he was the head chauffeur.
"Good day to you as well, Mister Olofssen. It is a rather cold day, though."
"That it is, but the children will be excited, I'm sure, about tonight's snow. With snow, comes ol' St. Nick."
"You're right about that. I remember when my three were young, but Erik's eighty-six now, Inge's eighty-one, and Detrik... Well, may God bless him. How are your children?"
"My daughter Erika has got herself a newborn son last month, and my son is in his last year of college, looking to become a lawyer like his uncle. They're both coming in for tonight."
"Congratulations on your grandson, Gerhard. What's his name?"
"Karl Esmund. Esmund after my father's name."
"Where might the Karl come from?"
"My son-in-law's elder brother who's serving overseas right now."
"I see. Give him my gratitude if you would. I will pray that God might allow his unharmed return next Christmas."
"I will. Thank you, Sir." The conversation betwixt Erik and Olofssen slowed to an end, but the cottage, being not terribly far from Miþborg Palace, the two were almost come to their destination. Olofssen looked back to the old king: "We have arrived, Sir."
"So we have. Thank you, Mister Olofssen."
"It is all my pleasure." The door shut, Erik having gotten out, and the car drove away.

After the relatively short amount of time that it took Erik to commute from the courtyard to the of entrance the palace, he was greeted generously. "Uncle Erik!" called Thomes, the Duke of Ekkesburg, "it's wonderful to see you've come out here."
"It's wonderful to be out here, Thom." Behind him, Erik saw the Phoenixian royal family arriving, among others, immediately recalling their arrival a century ago to Christmas party of 1918. "It's truly wonderful to be out here, but I say let's not dally in the cold too long."
(5) At Peace
(4) Alert <---
(3) Ready
(2) Troops on Standby
(1) At War
Bunny and Friend:
(\__/) (\(\
(='.'=) ( - -)
(")_(") ((‘) (’)


Rensulier Post: Thomes Adulf Lorenssen–Eirikr, the Duke of Ekkesburg, claims the throne to the Green Union | Emerstarian Midterm Elections to occur

User avatar
Phoenxia
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 103
Founded: Jul 24, 2018
Father Knows Best State

Postby Phoenxia » Sun Dec 06, 2020 12:14 pm

Emerstari wrote:
(Image)

A Yearning for Yuletide


A peace was befallen upon the grounds of Miþborg, a cold peace and a quiet peace, for, by now, the birds of migration had removed themselves southward, and the animals of hibernation had entered into their dormancy. No rabbit scuttled to and fro on the lawn, nor did any deer browse; of man, likewise, there was not a single one to be seen, as none wished to subject himself to the doings of such a wintry warlock, lest he be frozen. Within the palace itself, however, it being sheltered and teened from the season, there was not a qualm voiced. Neither was there any discontent, with surely enough heat being forthbrought by the kitchen. Therein, chefs toiled, with ovens ablaze, dough kneaded, and soups bubbling. Adjacent from the kitchen, staff of the foot ran about the halls, stringing up the last of the decorations and arranging tables.

"Stop there for a moment, if you would?" called a man emerged into the King's Corridor, who was immediately distinguished from all others by the manner of his appearance, that is his clothing and his age.
"Yes, my lord?" responded he, whom the aforesaid distinguished man had called.
"If you might, go, see to it that His Majesty is going to be properly prepared for the day's function."

The servant nodded in the affirmative, and he was gone in a moment, removing himself thence to the King's Chambers. He knocked upon the oaken doors of the room, once and then twice before he estranged one ever so slightly passed the threshold and stated, "Your Majesty, forgive me for my disturbance, but I'm come with a suggestion from His Grace, the Lord Steward, that you begin preparation for the day's forthcoming events."

The King was already sat upon the side of his bed, and he had been so since sometime prior to the coming of the servant, who was shielded by the door: "You've caused no disturbances. You may open the door further if you wish." The King's words were done, and the door was opened further, that the King could see whom he spoke. "Mister Hrolfssen," recognized His Majesty. This Hrolfssen, Ketel Friþrik Hrolfssen, was a comparatively young fellow, but one older than Erik X Gustaf, — it being the Christmas of 1918, Erik was eighteen and several months whereas Hrolfssen was twenty-three, with the waxing and waning of November's moon. "I'll not need any help in my preparations, but tell me, — or if you don't know, please find out, — has the Duke of Hventien yet arrived?"
"He ought to be, sir. He is set to arrive by noon"
"Great. Thank you, Hrolfssen; that's all."

The Duke of Whentii was the Lord Marshal of Emerstari, a position that had been held by the same family, — his family (the Lejonhofeds), — since the fifteenth century. More than that, he was a member of the Privy Council and a most respected peer in the House of Lords, as well as a wealthy, landowning individual. Even more than that, the King was closely acquainted with him via friendship with his sons in childhood; however, the reason wherefore His Majesty sought that information from Hrolfssen concerned none of those things. Indeed, thoughts of the Duke brought up not the Duke himself, but of the Duke's daughter, one Natalie Jakoba, for at his coronation on exactly two years ago, save a day, she had been seated next to him. The two were seated next to each other as a result of a secret covenant involving the Archbishop of Upsel, the Kingfather, and the Duke himself that had the ultimate goal of securing an heir for the throne. This covenant was a secret one, though; it was one with which both Erik and Natalie were unfamiliar, arranged marriages now being unfashionable, requiring parents to be more sly. Regardless of its secrecy, it was a successful plot, and Erik eagerly waited.

"Who would those arrivers be?" Natalie asked, — that is, Natalie Jakoba Lejonhofed. She stood in a small semi-circle with His Majesty and several other Eirikrians, ones by the names of Soren, Ingolf, and Hrafna.
The one by the name of Ingolf further asked, "Those can't be the Soumian cousins, can they be? No, no they're not?"
"No they're not indeed," Erik said, "those are the Phoenixians."
"In Markion?"
"Yeah. Arriving would be King Charles and his house." Erik split from the group, asserting, "I suppose I should go greet them, lest I should be a bad host."
"You've heard what happened to Cousin Vilhjalm Þjod, or no?" Soren probed, now that Erik was away.
"No, what?"
"Oh, well, right before the Christmas Peace and the Battle of Euchelle, he fell off his horse in a parade and broke his arm."
"That's a rather dreary way to be this time of year."
"Yeah."

The Emerstarian monarch neared his Phoenixian counterpart as the latter entered the Hall. "It's quite nice to see you here, Charles. I would hope that your journey was pleasant? It's quite some ways from Phoenixia to Miþborg." Erik extended his hand for a shake.
"It is quite a way, but the travelling was just fine," Charles answered, accepting the shake.
"Thanks be to God then." Erik acknowledged the Phoenixian queen, likewise the royal children, then he turned himself about: "Well, tonight the palace is yours as much as it is mine. I must briefly attend elsewhere, but I'll be back shortly should you need anything." Following their responses, Erik watched the Phoenixian royals dissipate into the crowd of their peers, then he briefly turned his head, seeing Natalie, Ingolf, and all in his peripheral vision. He started to head towards them, but it all faded away...

Erik woke up, — it had all been a dream, or, indeed, a memory. No longer was this man a youthful and gallant monarch, but a tired and sequestered retiree of an exceptionally advanced age. He slowly pulled himself from off his bed and sat on its side, looking about the room before him. Thence, he cleared his throat and carefully knelt on a rug nigh to a window, that the light therefrom might shine on it. Erik closed his eyes and spoke a prayer aloud; he orated the words without even a single stutter, for this process was not anything new to him, having performed it each and every day for the last twenty-some years since Natalie passed.

He rose up and made a trudge to the bathroom wherein he freshened himself for the day. It was the twenty-fourth of December, the eve of Christ's birth, and exactly one hundred years after the events of this dream. When out of the bathroom, Eherik headed to the dining room of his cottage. "Good morning, Mister Jakobssen," he said, sitting at the table as the aforesaid Mister Jakobssen set a plate before him. Jakobssen, that is Harald Ælfrik Jakobssen, had begun attending the old king in August 1972 when he was a mere twenty-seven years old, and he was still at it now in December 2018. Although, back then he was just a staffer for the late Mister Hrolfssen. Now, he was the Head of Staff.

"Good morning, Sir," Jakobssen answered. "Quite a nice morning, too. Why, Rudolfssen was just a half an hour ago taking the hounds out, and those dogs were goodly happy in the snow."
"That is most delightful to hear. Thank you, Mister Jakobssen."
"My pleasure, Sir. Might you be requiring anything else for the moment?"
"Not at the moment, no."
"Then I shall be in the kitchen if you do." Mister Jakobssen bowed his head unto Erik, thereafter taking his leave from the dining room.

Erik ate his breakfast, — a meal consisting of a scrambled egg and several slices of bread topped in jam with a glass of milk, — and then moved to the living room. There, he positioned himself in the foremost chair and took to reading Olof Krutsner's Adventures, an Emerstarian classic and one of his favorites, after a brief stint of listening to the radio. Erik got himself caught up in the book, and before long, it was half past eleven. "Sir?" Jakobssen said, standing in the threshold of the living room and the dining room.

"Is it truly time already, Mister Jakobssen?"
"It is indeed, Sir. Are you ready?"
"I certainly believe I am. Let us make haste, I say."
"Of course. The car is prepared just outside." Jakobssen handed Erik his coat, hat, and maud then escorted him out to the car

"Good day, Sir," Mister Olofssen greeted Erik. Olofssen, a man about fifteen years Mister Jakobssen's junior, was the another senior staffer of Erik's: he was the head chauffeur.
"Good day to you as well, Mister Olofssen. It is a rather cold day, though."
"That it is, but the children will be excited, I'm sure, about tonight's snow. With snow, comes ol' St. Nick."
"You're right about that. I remember when my three were young, but Erik's eighty-six now, Inge's eighty-one, and Detrik... Well, may God bless him. How are your children?"
"My daughter Erika has got herself a newborn son last month, and my son is in his last year of college, looking to become a lawyer like his uncle. They're both coming in for tonight."
"Congratulations on your grandson, Gerhard. What's his name?"
"Karl Esmund. Esmund after my father's name."
"Where might the Karl come from?"
"My son-in-law's elder brother who's serving overseas right now."
"I see. Give him my gratitude if you would. I will pray that God might allow his unharmed return next Christmas."
"I will. Thank you, Sir." The conversation betwixt Erik and Olofssen slowed to an end, but the cottage, being not terribly far from Miþborg Palace, the two were almost come to their destination. Olofssen looked back to the old king: "We have arrived, Sir."
"So we have. Thank you, Mister Olofssen."
"It is all my pleasure." The door shut, Erik having gotten out, and the car drove away.

After the relatively short amount of time that it took Erik to commute from the courtyard to the of entrance the palace, he was greeted generously. "Uncle Erik!" called Thomes, the Duke of Ekkesburg, "it's wonderful to see you've come out here."
"It's wonderful to be out here, Thom." Behind him, Erik saw the Phoenixian royal family arriving, among others, immediately recalling their arrival a century ago to Christmas party of 1918. "It's truly wonderful to be out here, but I say let's not dally in the cold too long."


Friedek

Friedek scanned the room for his closest cousins when he felt a tap on his shoulder. As he turned around, he recognized immediately who it was, "Cousin Ingrid!"

"It's been too long, Friedek Jordan!" She smiled radiantly and hugged him.

"Indeed it has, Ingrid. Where is everyone else?"

"Come, let me show you!"


Artur and Avosha

Artur caught a glimpse of Erik and approached him, "How are you, old friend?"

Avosha was carrying baby Etschelena in her arms, just over a year old now, and yet she was halfway through gestation with her third child, another girl they had found out.
Last edited by Phoenxia on Sun Dec 06, 2020 12:14 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Mark is a war criminal

User avatar
Emerstari
Chargé d'Affaires
 
Posts: 441
Founded: Oct 22, 2016
Inoffensive Centrist Democracy

Postby Emerstari » Sun Dec 13, 2020 7:04 am

Phoenxia wrote:Friedek

Friedek scanned the room for his closest cousins when he felt a tap on his shoulder. As he turned around, he recognized immediately who it was, "Cousin Ingrid!"

"It's been too long, Friedek Jordan!" She smiled radiantly and hugged him.

"Indeed it has, Ingrid. Where is everyone else?"

"Come, let me show you!"


Artur and Avosha

Artur caught a glimpse of Erik and approached him, "How are you, old friend?"

Avosha was carrying baby Etschelena in her arms, just over a year old now, and yet she was halfway through gestation with her third child, another girl they had found out.


King's Hall, Miþborg Palace
Bjorn Jokim

Ingrid led Friedek to a small cabal of Emerstarian teenagers in a part of the room that was a bit aside from the rest. Present was Jakob Ragnar, Bjorn Jokim, Aþelhed Karlotte, and Håkon Per, among two or three others; the whole of the four mentioned were Eirikrians, and both Bjorn and Aþelhed were children of the Duke of Ekkesburg, — that is, Thomes Adulf, — while Jakob was a nephew of the King, and Håkon was from the Soumian line. "What took you two so long, Ingrid and Friedek?" Bjorn inquired in a teasing tone.

Erik X Gustaf

"I am exceedingly well," Erik answered in a radiant voice that defied his appearance and age. "At this point, I'll tell you, I have got to count my blessings with a mathematician by my side." He took Artur's hand with both of his and shook it; as he did so, he saw Avosha, who was a bit of a ways behind, in her slow approach. "The new Phoenixian princess, I take it?" he asked of her to Artur. Erik produced the slightest of smiles at his own jest, then said, "Oh, no— You're looking as lovely as ever, Avosha. In fact, I almost mistook you, but I do see that you've got a princess with you. What's her name?"
Last edited by Emerstari on Sun Dec 13, 2020 7:08 am, edited 2 times in total.
(5) At Peace
(4) Alert <---
(3) Ready
(2) Troops on Standby
(1) At War
Bunny and Friend:
(\__/) (\(\
(='.'=) ( - -)
(")_(") ((‘) (’)


Rensulier Post: Thomes Adulf Lorenssen–Eirikr, the Duke of Ekkesburg, claims the throne to the Green Union | Emerstarian Midterm Elections to occur

User avatar
The JVP
Diplomat
 
Posts: 856
Founded: Nov 13, 2012
Democratic Socialists

Postby The JVP » Sun Dec 13, 2020 10:07 am

Arda en' Estel Region, Federated Kingdom of Emerstari

The Arrival of Vivi and her Uncle Hilger, to the Emerstarian homeland, was a pretty eventless trip, and now here they were, Miþborg.

"Pretty Cold." Hilger commented, as their car slowly pulled onto the palace grounds. He looked across to Vivi, who was studying the Palace as it grew near. "Nothing like the Sun Palace, but still, something about this Emerstarian architecture has me wanting to rebuild the palace." He thought for a second. "Maybe the one in Luar." He laughed, as he saw the slight grin grace Vivi's face.

"Anyways. Emerstaria, what do you think? Me and your father had some dealings with them when we were younger. Mainly lovely princesses and cousins to the king, your grandfather wanted us to court and marry." He laughed. "But we found our own way." He watched as Vivi quickly narrowed her eyes, before refocusing on the palace. Hilger knew why. He brought up her father, and even though he passed away three years ago, it still pained her to remember.

"That aside. We're here on a state visit. So just mingle a little, we'll be on the flight out later on tonight, and back home in no time." He smiled.

"If you say so Uncle." Vivi said, as a brief lull in the talking.

"One day you'll come to enjoy these things." Hilger finally said. "When that is. I don't know." He shot Vivi a sly smile, as she turned her head to him, mouth open. "Come now Vivi." He said, using he holding his hand out and closing her mouth. "It's unbecoming of a Princess to have her mouth in such a way. What would the people think?" He laughed as the car pulled up. "Alright." He says, placing a hat on his head. "Game time."

A guard came to open the door. "Please tell them that the Crown Princess Vivi Vatris, and High King Hilger Vatris, of the JVP Empire, have arrived." Hilger said to the guard, as he motioned for Vivi to allow him to step out first, the cold air biting at him as he did.


I'm no longer using Fuchs as the last name for my royal family. It's Vatris now.

User avatar
Phoenxia
Spokesperson
 
Posts: 103
Founded: Jul 24, 2018
Father Knows Best State

Postby Phoenxia » Wed Dec 16, 2020 12:12 pm

Friedek

"I just got here. It's great to see you all!" He sat down, "What's new with everyone? I would say not much has changed for me."

Ingrid also sat down, and scooted slightly closer to Friedek.

"Also, if any of you have games in mind, I brought a deck of cards," Friedek pulled the deck out of his suit pocket

Artur and Avosha

"Well, that's great to hear, Erik. I'm glad you're still with us. I believe my great-great-grandfather greeted you here round about a century ago in similar fashion," he let loose a small chuckle.

"Her name is Etschelena Heliana, and then the next one we are thinking is Greta," she placed her free hand on her pregnant belly.

"Well, we must be on our way now as we say hello to the other guests, nice to see you as always," Artur patted the supercentenarian on his shoulder.
Mark is a war criminal

User avatar
The Green Union
Diplomat
 
Posts: 969
Founded: Oct 29, 2015
Left-wing Utopia

Postby The Green Union » Mon Dec 28, 2020 6:16 pm

King Renne I, Emerstari, December 24, 2018:

“Come now, girls.” Yuula protested, “You can’t wear your tiaras to the party. It’s not polite.”

Her daughters were having none of it. They had spent all morning getting dressed up in their little dresses, being forced to squeeze into uncomfortable little slippers and stockings. And they were going to be in the presence of kings and queens and princes and princesses! Surely, they needed their tiny plastic tiaras if they were to fit in!

“Nobody else will be wearing them.” Yuula reasoned. “I’m a princess. I don’t wear one.”

“Yeah, but there will be real princesses here.” Lapi, the youngest at only four, had never been to Emerstari before. And Katze, the senior sister of two year, was too young to remember attending this event last. Both refused to take chances with this serious business.

Their mother continued to try and negotiate, but the setting was not exactly on her side. Their limousine was gliding through snow kissed countryside, gently dusted with the white powder rather than harshly heaped as it was back at home. Every time they passed a field with cows or horses, the children pressed their noses against the window and breathed fog against the glass. Then just as quickly they were gone, replaced by inviting forests of birches or oak just waiting to be explored. It was certainly the sort of place where a shining knight might canter out at any moment.

King Renne watched all of this joyously, recalling when his own children grew this excited about their visits to Emerstari. It seemed so long ago now, a small light in a darker time.

“I tell you what, girls.” he said at last, “If you leave your tiaras in the car, I’ll ask Cousin Ingrid to show you the horses.” Such a proclamation immediately pacified the young ones, at least for a moment.

“Okay Grandpa,” Katze proclaimed seriously, finding his terms acceptable, “but we’ll wear them for New Year.”

King Renne nodded, parsing his lips into the best face for serious negotiation he had. They really were the spitting image of their mother at that age. “Very well. Perhaps we’ll all wear tiaras to greet the new year.”

“I will be spending New Years with Harry’s family.” His son quickly interjected, not wanting to get roped into yet another royal event.

The King smiled to himself. Captain Haida was a good man, a staple around the royal household since his son was just a boy. When a young Wolfe had concocted some uniquely wild scheme to run a zipline from the roof of the summer lodge, it had been Harry who sheepishly confessed to the deed. And when a dejected Haida was subsisting off of coffee and ramen in his university dorm, it had been his roommate Wolfe who kept his spirits up. Energy and compassion mixed with stoicism and resolve; When it came time for Wolfe to reign, his father would have the confidence of knowing they would do it together.

But not yet. The young man was not ready.

“Yes, of course. Give the good Captain my regards, and remind him that I can still make him a duke if you two decide to tie the knot.”

His son’s ears went red. “Pa! I already told you we’re not . . .”

The King just chuckled. “What? Doesn’t The kings of the Union have a nice ring to it?”

“Not unless you’ve got an extra crown lying around,” Wolfe grumbled, “or can figure out how to cram both our heads into the one.”

That got a chorus of laughter from the children as they pictured Harry and Wolfe in the Coronation Garden, struggling to mash their heads together while a bishop and councillor tried to stretch the sacred relic over their skulls.

* * *


At length, the black car pulled into the driveway of their destination. The King first became aware of this by his granddaughters, leaping in their seats, who stared in awe at the fabulous castle that rose up in front of them. The moment the door was opened they were off like a shot, racing into the flurries and slipping and sliding up the grand stairs. Yuula made to yell and go after them, but her father stopped her.

“Let them. Today is about the children.”
A federation of three independent states and their Arctic territory, currently torn apart by competing interests.
Calendôr is in the GU heartland, located along the Green River. Francophone, it is the most urban nation. Dominated by boreal forests.
Urlistan covers the west coast and mouth of the Green River. English speaking, it is a rocky country based with industry and culture based around the sea. Currently under the control of the Arcadian Empire.
Arasland is a large northern landmass dominated by rocky forests and, above the treeline, tundra. Speaking several dialects of Emerstarian and Arcadian German, and culturally dominated by small communes organized in tribes.


Return to NationStates

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: Caesarovia, Noristoniaka, Nova Catania, Outer Sparta, Southeast Marajarbia, Thembrya, Viennaria, Zemevia

Advertisement

Remove ads