Caraintese Royal Wedding (IC)

[Caraintos]

The Caraintese Royal Wedding
Dynastic Union between the House of Cressey and the House of Safar

Following much searching, debating and negotiating, an engagement has been made, a proposal accepted and a wedding planned to be the defining point of a generation and determine the future of the House of Cressey, the royal dynasty that had ruled Caraintos for over two hundred years. Crown Prince Davios of Caraintos (age 25)—son of King Jayse II & Queen Mereya of Caraintos—is to wed Princess Tasa of Safar (age 20)—daughter of Prince Angemar & Princess Tasa of Lajastine , of the Lajastinean Royal Family. With the marriage of Crown Prince Davios and Princess Tasa will come shipping and trading agreements between the nations of Lajastine and Caraintos, with the lowering of tariffs on Caraintese medicinal and water supplies, lowering of prices for Lajastinean vendors of grain and mutual respect of nomadic groups in previously disputed boundaries.

As the pair are to become Crown Prince and Princess, and in time, the next King and Queen of Caraintos, a grand wedding ceremony and reception is to be held to mark this glorious union. The ceremony is to take place at the Tasario Palace in Resdaro, the capital city of Caraintos. Royals, heads of state and other dignitaries from across the world are invited to this great celebration.

Dress Code: Day dresses and hats for the women; Uniforms, morning coats, or lounge suits for the men.

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Schedule

* 8:00 Guests Arrive
* 10:00 International Guests Arrive
* 10:20 The Groom and Royal Procession Arrive
* 10:45 King & Queen of Caraintos Arrive
* 11:00 The Bride Arrives
* 11:05 Ceremony Begins
* 12:00 Ceremony Ends
* 12:02 Signing of the Register
* 12:13 Bride and Groom Exit with Royal Procession
* 12:15 Royal Carriage Procession through the city
* 12:35 Return to the Palace
* 12:45 Balcony Appearance
* 13:00 Royal Wedding Brunch
* 20:00 Royal Wedding Reception

Guest List

* King Cleone IV of Lux Pulchrae
* Queen Cecile of Lux Pulchrae
* John Deleria, Chancellor of Eurum
* Emirah Aisha of the Caliphate
* Prince Angemar of Lajastine
* Princess Safa of Lajastine
* Prince Angemar of Lajastine
* Princess Tasa of Lajastine
* Princess Melluya of Lajastine
* Prince Angemar of Safar
* Princess Myriam of Safar
* Prince Louis of Great Hyruke
* Princess Gisella of AHSCA
* Prince Nizar of Garandy
* Princess Fara bint-Dardan
* Prince Mahmut ibn-Idris
* Prince Voarok of Patuania
* Princess Kiayon of Patuania
* Prince Marthanda Varma of Travancore
* Prince Constantine of the Vatican States
* Prince Albert of Flohaland
* Rachel Northrop, A.E. Foreign Minister
* Alexander Alevconer, Alverian Ambassador

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[Caraintos]

Tens of thousands of Caraintosi filled the thin stone streets of Resdaro. Located at the mouth of the Cellarise River where fresh river water met the salty waves of the Southern Sea, the capital had been built on a series of small islands connected and divided by canals and bridges. The Tasario Palace took in the center of the city on the north bank of the Cellarise shaped like a right trapezoid,, a massive bell tower, the grand Jayse Tower, named after King Jayse I, whose seventy-four year long reign saw the tower designed, begun, constructed and completed. Easily the tallest structure in the city, where most buildings didn’t rise higher than three to five stories, the Jayse Tower acted as a beacon for those who had come to see the royal wedding.

Normally a city of eighty thousand people, the occupancy of Resdaro had more than doubled as thousands had streamed to the capital. Many carried banners, waved flags and held and bought memorabilia for the occasion. No one in living memory had attended a wedding between a Crown Prince and another princess, much less a foreign one. The House of Cressey was a royal dynasty that, as one courtier at the wedding of the future King Leandor II and Queen Relia (great-grandparents of the present King Jayse II) “The Cresseys are better to bend two branches and tie them together— all Cressey mothers in search for a daughter in-law think, better a cousin or a niece than some stranger”

This branch bending had resulted in two of the six queens consorts of Caraintos being close relatives of their kings. It had also lead to a decrease in fertility in the royal family had had plagued them for the last century. The trimming of the royal family had put an end to the cousin marriages of the past, for there were no more cousins to marry and as such the three last generations had had to look to the noble gentry of Caraintos for their spouses. But that also left the House of Cressy small and the line of succession short. It also meant that Crown Prince Davios, the only child of King Jayse II, was valuable, and so it had been decided that his value could not be wasted on a mere noble woman. The King sought a foothold on the international stage.

So King and Queen had, for the first time in centuries, looked abroad to foreign royalty. Those too distant from Caraintos were rejected, for they would be little more than an exotic addition. So they narrowed their search to their neighbors. Bordered by three countries, and a fourth through a shared maritime boundary, the King and Queen begs. Their search there. Their northern neighbor, Bruzenland was a republic and this had no Royals to offer. Their northeastern neighbor Colfico was a young unstable monarchy, and no princesses. Across the strait of the Southern Sea sat Great Hyruke, a respectable and stable, if ambitious monarchy. But like Colfico, they lacked any princesses. So they turned their attention south to Lajastine, where border disputes and border crossing nomads complicated things.

But Lajastine was a neighbor, monarchy, and had several princesses to choose from, including the daughter of a late Sultan. The King and Sultan had broached the topic and thus negotiations had begun. The former sultan’s daughter was reject instead for the current sultan’s grandniece, Princess Tasa of Safar. She was royal, the right age and quite lovely, and came with enough compromises to please all involved. To make matters even better, the couple got along. Though political, theirs was not to be an unhappy marriage. With this miraculous alignment, it had quickly captured the hearts and mind of Caraintos. The perfect royal wedding. One forged in love, that would serve the kingdom and save the dynasty.

And so it should not surprise anyone that the attitude of the people outside the walls of the Tasario Palace was jubilant. Inside a sense of great precision had taken over. At the direction of Teressa Slynt, the Queen’s seneschal, everything was being made to be perfect. Slynt had seen to it that a strict schedule and dress code be sent out to those graced with the honor of attending the grand celebration, each handwritten and then signed by the King himself. The King rarely wrote himself, leaving that to his wife, but he had perfected his signature during his seventeen years on the throne.

The wedding itself was taking place in the gardens of the Tasario, beautifully and carefully manicured baroque style gardens that flourished bright and lush beneath the warm Caraintese sun. Over six hundred guests were in attendance, mostly representatives from charities, the provincial governments and the host of gentry, titles and untitled. The greatest and most important guests were to be the foreign royals and dignitaries in attendance. These important guests were to be seated near the front of the arrangements, nearest to the alter, whilst the lower ranking guests were to fill up the space far far back. The great marble walls rose around the gardens, atop their parapets waving in the air were the flags of Caraintos and Lajastine.

As the bells of Jayse Tower tolled eight in the morning, Slynt ordered the gates of the walls of the Palace opened to let in the first waves of guests, the lowest ranking coming in first. As the lesser Caraintese guests filed inside, so did members of the Media Metropolitani crew. Media Metropolitani, or M.M. for short had been, after much negotiation, granted exclusive coverage of the event, and would be broadcasting it to the homes of millions not only in Caraintos but also world wide. Camera crew were to stay discreet, but they would be able to capture the whole thing, something that it was agreed on, would greatly increase the standing of M.M. Their reporters, dressed as formally as the guests, spoke in light excited tones as they filmed the sea of nobles and government officials, rattling off their names for the audiences as home.

“The Honorable Sir Lawsen Saltcliffe and his wife Lady Saltcliffe can be seen entering the palace, Lady Saltcliffe in a lovely pink taffeta dress and a surely delightful fascinater,” said a reporter with a cheerful smile. And on and on down the list she went, commenting here and there on individuals and couples and their family’s backgrounds.

Far from the cameras howeve, far above in the private quarters of the upper floors the Tasario Palace, Crown Prince Davios waited. The crown prince would be in store a great deal of waiting for the better part of the day. Born in the waning days of his great-grandfather’s reign, the twenty-five year old Crown Prince Davios was young, handsome and charming. He, like most Caraintese men had a beard and long shoulder length hair that he pulled back, as was the fashion in the kingdom. He wore the highly ceremonial master gentleman’s dress uniform: shiny black boots, black and silver trousers with a high collar red jacket heavily embroidered along the front with several braids looping over his shoulders and a white shoulder cape that reached his calves.

The future king took a breath as he looked out over the gardens, watching the guests filing into their seats like ants.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous,” said Davios.

“You’d be a fool if you weren’t,” snorted on his his groomsmen.

Traditionally a brother and Cressey cousins served as groomsmen for a Caraintese royal, but as Davios had no brothers (or siblings for that matter) and no cousins from the royal Cressey line, he had been free to select who he wished. He had chosen his three good friends from Vallo University, all young men of the gentry from good families. There was Sir Josian Saller of Roscia, two years older than the Crown Prince and a half a foot talker at 6’7”. Josian the Giant they called him. Despite his impressive height, this giant was a gentle one, laid back and easy going. There was Carden Wayn, a stout young man, the same age as the crown prince with a nasally voice and large cheeks, but a man generous with his parents’ wealth. Then there was, somewhat confusingly, Davios Cartwell, who they all called, to avoid aforementioned confusion, Dai. With two monarchs and numerous princes in Caraintese history having been named Davios, it had become quite the popular name. Dai, with long brown air and a prominent mustache, was the one who had spoken.

“Getting married is big,” Dai said, though then punctuated it with a shrug. “Though that is kind of the point.”

“None of the pomp and circumstance matters in the end,” offered Josian, “as long as you love Tasa.” The gentle giant paused for a moment. “You do love her, right? Cause if not this is going to very awkward.”

“No, no,” Davios laughed. “I do love her. I want to marry her. It’s just,” he turned his attention back to the spectacle unfolding below. “I don’t know if we are going to be able to handle all this. The wedding, the parties and duties, the crown. Even with the two of us, it will be a great weight to bear.”

Back down in the gardens, the rest of the Caraintese guests flowed in as mighty as any river in the kingdom. As the time passed, up came the most important of the landed gentry. Lady Cliera Corrbray, the eighty-year old daughter of the late Princess Dalora, who in turn had been a daughter of King Leandor II, entered the gardens. Lady Corrbray was an elderly woman as pale as and as round as an egg. She wore a green and yellow dress with a matching wide brim hat. She’s grown into a old wealthy spinster, and a regular sight at royal functions. She was flowered by Lady Laena and Lord Jayse Nayland, siblings who were the niece and nephew of King Jayse II by his late sister, Princess Laisa. Laena and Jayse both had bright gray-blue eyes and dark black hair. Lady Laena wore a blue and silver dress with a blue fascination with feathers. Jayse in turn wore a sharp morning suit with a blue tie and pocket square.

Lady Corrbray and the Nayland siblings marked the end of the Caraintese guests arriving and opened the gates for the international guests.

[Estados Vaticanos]

The prince was prepared for his first visit to a foreign country, days before his invitation was confirmed and the etiquette committee was preparing him for the moment when he should greet the happy couple and obviously the king and queen of Caraintos.

That day his suitcases were already packed and ready to be transported to the plane in which the Vatican delegation would travel, made up of the prince, his assistant and about 8 guards who would protect him with their lives in case some anti-monarchist decided to make a attack on the place where the young princes would marry, the prince already prepared went down the stairs with his young assistant and there was his father, the king.

"Ready Father, I'm ready" Said the prince quite nervous.

"Very well, Constantine, remember to refer to them as his Royal Highness and the king as his Majesty ... Do you carry the gifts?" The king raised his eyebrow slightly when he saw that he did not bring the gifts.

"If you're already in the car and don't worry, I know everything I need to know" The prince bowed to his father and said goodbye to him.

The prince continued on his way with his assistant who opened the door of the Bentley Continental Flying Spur, which was a vehicle adapted for each of the royals, the assistant got on next to him and the royal caravan left escorted by 3 BMW motorcycles R1200 RT in the front followed by two Chevrolet Suburbans then by the prince's vehicle with another two chevrolet suburban behind and at the end another 3 motorcycles.

After a long journey through the streets of Rome, they finally arrived at the Leonardo Da Vinci air base since the plane was going to be loaned by the Air Force because the airport where they were authorized to land was small, so when the prince arrived he got on . with his assistant and his 8 escorts to the Gulfstream IV that immediately closed its doors and began filming towards the runway that after the control tower gave them permission, they took off escorted by two F-16s that followed them to the end of the Vatican . air space.

The prince and his assistant were on the plane reviewing the protocols, the delivery of gifts and the agenda that the princes had prepared for their special day ... After 5 hours of flight, the pilot finally contacted the control tower of the Real de Resdaro airport who gave him the authorization to land and after some maneuvers they finally landed and the assistant contacted the representative of Caraintos to give them the vehicle for the Vatican caravan.

[Caraintos]

An M.M. camera crew had descended upon the airport as the plane of Prince Constantine of the Vatican States touched down. A reporter took off to the side as the cameras captured the sight of a shiny black Alfa Romeo 6C 2500, a natively manufactured car, that had a small flag for their guest on the left side and one of the Caraintese flag on the right.

“Here we have the first of the international guests, His Royal Highness, Prince Constantine of the Vatican States,” said the reporter. “The Prince’s lavish mode of transportation is quite the sight, though reportedly, this was a scaled down alternate after it was found that the plane he wished to land in would be too big for the airport.”

This was not strictly true. The previously suggested plane for the foreign prince’s arrival would have easily fit in the airport. The matter was that of the run way being too small to properly allow enough space and room for the behemoth to take off safely, for the four hundred or so needed extra feet that the airport runway lack would have sent the plane crashing into a nearby warehouse and, in the opinion of all involved in the planning process, resulted in a sour note on the day.

“There are quite a number of foreign royals, princes and princesses alike arriving in the city today as we all come together to celebrate the Royal Wedding,” the reporter continued as a driver stepped out of the car and held the door open for the Prince of the Vatican States. “And with so many gathered in one place, rumors are abound of princes and princesses searching for a love of their own on this special day. So keep your eyes open.”

This gained a small round of laughter from the reporter and his crew. They were not wrong of course, unlike with the matter of the plane. It was said that foreign language studies had spiked as never before amongst the noble ladies of Caraintos as they sought to catch a foreign royal in attendance, given that their own home grown crown prince was now lost to them.

Out of ear shot of the reporter, the driver bowed to the prince as he disembarked.

“Your Royal Highness, welcome to Caraintos There is a second car ready to take your luggage to the Palace while I escort you to the gardens entrance.”

[Kyrenaia]

Prince Mahmut ibn-Idris.
Resdaro, approaching the Tasario Palace and its gardens.
This was a huge deal for Caraintos, one could feel that even in the days prior to the Big Day. Thousands had come to see the Crown Prince being married to a Princess, the grandniece of the (funnily enough) Sultan of Lajastine. On the national stage, she would prove to be a valuable addition to the genepool, expanding it considerable as for quite a while, the family tree of the local royal family, the House of Cressy, had been more of a family circle.
Internationally, it was hoped, that the wedding and the corresponding agreements would prove to have a calming effect on the border situation between Caraintos and Lajastine, a border region, where nomads roamed freely and that had been the issue.
Regardless, the information package by Naval Intelligence, which I had almost memorized by heart by the time the Nazim had arrived three days ago, had included this fact and a few others.
One should mention, that as I held my hand out to help the lady out of the car, I was not alone here. The Nazim was the yacht of Princess Fara bint-Dardan, who I was accompanying.
If the recent diplmatic fallout with the United Island States of AHSCA showed one thing to the Government of the Sultanate, then it was, that we needed more friends and, more importantly, needed a better image on the international stage. After all, the first reaction of quite a few people had been to assume, that we would start bombing the little Archipelago, which had dared to insult the Sultana and the Sultanate.
Needless to say, that we hadn't, although I was sure, that the temptation had been there for some.
In any case, that was, why we were here: To put on a good weather show. Her, a Special Ambassador, myself a Special Junior Ambassador. Attending the wedding was a nice bonus.
Princess Fara was a tall woman, by Kyrenaian standards, at least, with 1.81 meters. Her red eyes shone like rubies, her blonde hair was short as ever. She was a professional swimmer, competed for the team of the University of Megido, and was a half-Lasite, her mother being one of the fierce warrior-women from the mountains around Arados.
She had a certain grace about her, which was immediately apparent as she took my hand and raised herself out of the car with a grace matching the grace of her pet, the Kyrenaian Caracal Kalak.
She also had a boyfriend - Commander Abbas Shabaaltay, a naval aviator. With the Mirfae away at sea, however, she had needed a date for this occassion and as for some reason, the Sultana Herself had insisted on me being along for the ride, I had asked, if either of them would mind, if I were to attend as Fara's date. The aviator had been fine with it, under the condition, that I would not step on her feet.
I myself was a young man of sixteen, son of the Ilkhan and the Ilkhana of Sarepta (fuck any rumour to the contrary) and a student at the Tabar Boys' Academy in Utica. With 1.71 meters I was shorter then Fara, but on a good way of catching up (if my father was any indication, that is). Short brown hair crowned my head and golden eyes shone at the world.
I, too, had something approaching a girlfriend, Soraya Geal. But right now the relationship between me and my childhood friend was a bit difficult, if not to say a minefield, especially after images of her snogging another guy surfaced in the yellow press. Things had been said and timeouts had been taken and I had no bloody clue as to where the two of us stood these days.
The two of us had our Personal Handmaidens, Shirin Bayd and Saida Adib, accompanying us, the two women in the traditional dresses also carrying the presents for bride and groom.
The hosts had been very particular about the dress code, day dresses and hats for the ladies and morning coats or lounge suits for the men (uniforms were, for me, right out, as I was not here as a function holder and my school uniform was the only uniform I could wear).
As such, I wore a black morning coat, a white waistcoat beneath that and a white shirt under that. Striped formal trousers and dress boots of dark leather completed the ensemble's outer layer. I, of course, had a handkerchief in my breast pocket, a grey necktie and a pocketwatch in the waistcoat, but I had foregone the gloves or the top hat.
There was enough hattage on Fara.
A hat with a nice brim sat securely on her hat (it was fine, it did not hinder kissing as I had been allowed to find out), the skirt was ankle-long. The dress itself was black, emphasizing her build, but not too revealing. It barely had a neckline and was additionally concealed by the jacket she wore, a fur lined aviator's leather jacket, which Abbas had gotten her. While open, it made her a looker if only by the contrast. I knew, that she wore comfortable shoes as well, as she slung her shoulder bag up.
She smiled and I offered her my arm to link.
Like that, we approached the gates and gardens, mentally prepared and with the time table in mind. We knew, that we would be seated quite a bit forwards, close to the altar, like all other foreign dignitaries.
It would be an interesting day, that was for sure.

[Estados Vaticanos]

The Assistant had informed the prince that a vehicle was heading to the doors of the plane, the guards were organized at the door of the plane waiting for the prince who went to the small room that had the plane where he put on his outfit which was a jacket with blue penguin tail, blue top hat with white tie, white handkerchief, beige pants and black sneakers.

The Pilot went out to open the door, which at the same time were stairs, and the first to descend was the security team, circling the path between the stairs and the doors of the vehicle where the Caraintos driver was waiting, the Assistant was the Then to descend with the gifts by depositing them in the vehicle and then the prince got off that plane where he heard what that driver was saying, looked at the cameras and got into the car that was too luxurious on the inside in addition to the aesthetics on the outside. it was old, so it caught his attention too much.

The guards had authorization to follow the vehicle throughout the route since the 8 men did not fit in the car so as soon as the car started, the men surrounded the car and began to walk next to it, so the driver had to handle a little. slow.

"Well, as soon as we get to the garden, where should I go?" The prince asked his driver with a big smile as he was feeling quite cheerful.

The Prince:

[Caraintos]

Back at the Tasario Palace, the other reporter represent was as chipper as one could be as the cameras followed the arrival of Princess Fara and Prince Mahmut. Around them, from behind politely placed barriers and lines of guards that didn’t so much as slightly distract from the air of jubilation as citizens waved flags and waved at the foreign royals, oohing and ahhing more so over their exotic features and titles than anything else.

“It seems Sultanate are quite popular in Caraintos today as we see Her Highness Princess Fara bint-Dardan, quite the tall lovely lady, don’t you agree?” Asked the reporter, looking to her colleagues. “And what a hat, though it seems with that jack that Kyrenaian fashion has quite the bold tastes. And on the arm of the princess we can see Prince Mahmut ibn-Idris the young chap looking dapper. A truly adorable couple.”

There had been quite a bit of confusion over Princess Fara and Prince Mahmut, on both their titles and their relation. The Palace had accidentally called them the Prince and Princes of Kyrenaia, which had made the crew at M.M. Believe they were brother and sister. The Palace, realizing this error and had instead quickly re-issue documents clarifying that they were not, and instead choosing to refer to them in the less grand, though much more accurate bint-Dardan and ibn-Idris instead.

This had sent a pair of waves of discomfort amongst the M.M. executives, first for those still mistaking them to be brother and sister, also fearing that they were a couple, raising several questions of censorship, as after all, no matter how many first cousins and third cousins twice removed the Cresseys had married in the past, such sibling relationships were frowned upon. At least in most of the country. Once this had been cleared up however, with two executive board members requiring pictures of the two to be assured that they were not siblings, there came the question of age.

At this, an exhausted Slynt had simply instructed the reporters to either ignore or desensitized their coverage of it as they saw fit. Hence the decidedly family friendly and disarming description of them as adorable. Neither the Palace nor the M.M. were even aware that the two royals had boyfriend and girlfriend of their own who were not who they were accompanying to the wedding ceremony, but alas, some things are simply miscommunicated.

[Caraintos]

The driver, a plump young woman watched in surprised as the guards moved along side the car, a sight rarely seen in person and typically heard of as a stereotype for distant emperors and dictators. So one could imagine the surprise and confusion as the M.M. Cameras caught the sight on film as the car made its way, slowly, towards the gardens. The Driver was just as surprise as to see the prince speak to her, imagining that he would know where to go already.

“Upon arrival,” the driver said, “ I shall drop you off just before the gates of the palace gardens. There will be crowds of people, and more reporters and cameras, but everything is fine and should be easy to follow Your Royal Highness. There is a marked walkway that will lead up a few feet up to the gates and into the royal gardens. The gardens are in the layout of a grid, so the seating area will be a straight shot and from their you should be able to find your name on a seat.”

The driver was admittedly guessing as to the last part. While she had been witness to the decoration of the gardens and preparations she didn’t truly know. Not that she was wrong. Quite close to the truth in fact. With six hundred guests pouring in from across the country and the world, it had been a great effort to make the movements of said guests be as smooth and unnecessary for guidance as possible, as well as to make it difficult for them to wander off. The gardens enclosed space, strict lay made getting lost impossible, and navigation easy.

The drive, though slowed by the need to stay with the guards, with the secondary car loading and arriving at the servants entrance to the palace far faster, proceeded as played. As they crossed bridges and drive along canals, the closer they got to the palace the more and more packed the streets became. Luckily for the foreign guest, the local police cleared a smooth and uninterrupted route through the capital.

[Esekistan]

Onboard a Beriev BE-103
Several thousand feet over Resdaro, Caraintos

Part I - The Arrival

The rush of jet engines couldn't be heard inside the old Soviet-made plane. General-Secretary Beshimov let out a quiet sigh as they began their descent into the city. Filled with tightly-packed buildings with the large palace at it's center, it was to be remarked as a formidable feat of engineering, however not as much so as Naftishli, so Beshimov thought. Taking sips of vodka as the plane descended, he watched as his guards sat doing much the same, playing cards and reading copies of Marx's manifesto. After all, it was the most popular book in Esekistan - largely by forced reading, but such details do not matter.

The plane soon touched down in the airport, and Beshimov quickly adjusted his uniform. Broad-shouldered, passive, and postured, he prepared to exit the plane. On the outside, it was painted in the colors of the Eseki flag - a green tail with a red front, bearing the hammer and sickle. His guards gathered luggage from the plane, and Beshimov quickly thanked the pilots before the door opened to a flood of foreign cameras and locals, as more international guests arrived. Regal and reserved, he made his way down the stairs with confidence, clearly brandishing a Russian pistol at his belt in his full military uniform. As he stepped off, he made clear that one of his guards was to play the Internationale in Eseki on his way down. Once at the bottom, he allowed his guards to flank him. As they took their positioned, they saluted as Beshimov saluted at the cameras. A nonstop flight from Naftishli was no problem for him, as often the 86-year old Beshimov stayed up for days at a time. He began walking across the tarmac...

^ General-Secretary Tursunbay Beshimov

[Caraintos]

M.M. Coverage of Secretary-General Beshimov’s was very different from the coverage of the other guests. Caraintos was a decidedly monarchist country and many questioned the reason for allowing the foreign head of state to attend the royal wedding. The M.M. thus tried, so what subtly tried to downplay his attendance. After all, audiences wanted to be dazzled with the glamor of royals, while communist statesmen lacked that level of luster.

“Secretary-General Beshimov arrives,” the reporter said flatly as the camera cut the sound as not to let the audiences at home hear the music of the foreigners. “With such grand fanfare and enough pomp and circumstance to match any of the visiting royals. As one of the two foreign heads of state though, the lavish and gifts said to be noted down from the Esekistani are said to be the grandest of the royal couples’s gifts.”

The matter of gifts for the royal couple had been another topic discussed with quite some interest. The Caraintese Royal Family was not fabulously wealthy, nor were they even the wealthiest family in Caraintos, but they had a great deal of assets and thus the idea of them receiving gifts had mixed feelings. When polled, it seemed that most didn’t mind the giving of gifts such as jewels and tiara and other such items regularly associated with the grandeur of monarchy.

But many of the royal gifts it seemed were also serving as diplomatic gifts and as such had started to carry weight and extravagance. Some of the gifts to be presented were being considered far too over the top. But the Royal Family had displayed no interest in rejecting any nation’s gifts, however grand they might be. Some had even begun to make a competition out of it, betting on which nation or royal could present the most lavish of presents.

[AHSCA]

It was a short time before this gathering, this gala, Princess Gisella Villa made a snap decision, she just needed to get away from all the noise! Noise, noise, noise! Her elder sister, whom she adored and respected and admired six ways to Sunday sort of kicked off a rather chain of events, insulting the sitting Monarch of another nation, deploying a covert team to recon them, stubbornly refusing to apologize, it increasingly felt like this was a game of chicken and both were just waiting to see who would swerve first. Granted, The Sultanate of Kyrenaia, whom they had just broken off said relations with, hadn't begun any hostile acts, well none obvious at least. Their base demolition was a strong enough explosion that the entire island where it sat was rattled by it. Some of the other nations they hosted embassies for, had to ask if there was an earthquake and were in need of help because their geological censors registered enough force to make it seem like there was one. Anyway that controlled demolition was starting to get people nervous, wondering if it was intended as a message

Uuugh this was a trying time, the press was all over it, poor Gisella just had enough, she riffled through her sister's non-private correspondence to see if maybe someone somewhere had invited her personally to a party or just sent a general invitation for any interested heads of state or high ranks of government and nobility alike. Well to her luck there was one but she had to hightail it out and get there quickly to be ready and on time. She had a couple of gifts picked out, pretty common for wedding parties, and now she was here. Though the Deputy Foreign Officer did offer to join her in attendance to help her know who was who among all the guests, Gisella declined, poor Noir (the current Foreign Officer) would need all the help she could get right now until this all settles down.

So all Gisella had was a small guide of the guests Roshin could find, even then it wasn't likely complete given how quickly it had to be thrown together, (boy was Gisella in for a surprise) and of course a single bodyguard. Shirley Potsdam, a member of The Crimson Knights detail. Shirley was a little more serious minded and all business at times, compared to the Duchess' (her sister) personal guard but still, Gisella made any attempt to be friendly with her. Shirley could see the effort and appreciate it, but her duty was first and foremost to guard the life of the Princess, more than be a confidant. Best leave that to handmaidens, but still, given everything going on, she thought maybe she should try to be more warm and open with the young Princess.

Gisella stared out the window of their transport car. "Milady," She spoke, "Doing okay?"

"Oh? Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine. Sorry, I'm kind of nervous. It's not every day I get to go to these kinds of engagements on my own, usually I'm with sis."

"Understandable. Well I'm sure you'll do fine and be a lovely guest for the bride and groom to be. You're a fine young woman already."

"oh well..." Gisella giggled a bit embarrassed, "You're very kind, Shirley."

"I know but I'm a bit stern for your liking. I suppose with everything going on, you probably need a kind face for a change. Consider me that."

"Thank you, but I'd also rather not talk about everything going on right now."

"Certainly Milady, consider that subject dropped. It seems we've arrived." Out they stepped, Shirley in her uniform of the Knights Gisella in her finest gown, a crown woven of dried out decorative lotus flowers atop her head Well no time to fuss over going ons back home time to be a proper prim Princess. Taking time to try to survey the guests made Gisella nearly trip over her own two feet.

"Milady, are you all right?" Shirley caught her from taking a nasty spill "I'm fine, just a little klutzy is all."

"It's all right. You can hold to my arm if you wish."

"Oh no need, I just need to watch where I'm going is all."

Of course she had spotted there were people from Kyrenaia here, rather unmistakable, she'd seen them before a handful of times. Shirley's eyes too darted around, it was her job to seize up the enviroment of course, should she need to rush the Princess to safety. "I see..."

Gisella let out a little moan.

"Fear not, Milady, remember I am here to protect you."

"Oh, I'm certain they wouldn't want to harm me."

"I know. Certainly nobody here would, at least no guests would but it's not just your physical well being I have to look after. I'll ensure nobody you don't want gets too close to you, trust in me."

"Thank you, Miss Shirley"

"My pleasure, Milady. Come, let's get you to your seat."

Right, best just keep out of each other's way, she won't bother them, they probably won't bother her.

[Estados Vaticanos]

The road to the royal palace was incredible for the prince, the views that could be observed were from fairy tales and the streets were full of people although these were more civilized than in the kingdom where the young women saw the prince as if he were a sex. symbol so it was annoying when they called him by his name but in this country it was different since he was not so well known so he could enjoy everything in peace.

I listen to the driver's indications that he had been very kind and wanted to know his name because then he would send him an invitation to visit the royal family in the castle outside Florence that is the Vatican of Balmoral.

The driver was surprised to see how his own guards escorted him, but this was by protocol since when there was no car the guards had to do this training that usually the guards went in heavily armored vans and some were even armed to avoid attacks Of people who hate him like royalty.

After a few minutes the assistant informed the prince that the suitcases had arrived at the palace and that when he got out of the car he would go to organize them in the room, the prince paid him little attention since he had fallen in love with that quiet city. . . ... a few minutes later the car stopped like the guards so they opened the door and the prince came out with two gifts perfectly wrapped so that the other guests could not see him, the assistant would stay in the car to ask the driver for his information personal while the prince advanced towards the interior of the gardens, by protocol the guards stayed outside while the prince felt small among all those people so he approached a person who worked in the palace

"Excuse me, you know where my seat is ... I am Constantine Prince of the Vatican" said the prince quite nervous because of the amount of people around him.

[Esekistan]

En Route to the Palace
The Streets of Resdaro, Caraintos

Part I - The Arrival (Continued)

After reaching his motorcade, made up of solely stately, 1980s-era Soviet automobiles, he got into one of the vehicles. On the hood was an Eseki flag, opposite to one, that of Caraintos. He asked his driver to proceed as quick as possible through the streets to avoid interactions with any locals. His guards following behind him, he continued to sip at his vodka. As he drove past, he saw local residents peering into his vehicle curiously. It was then that Beshimov pulled shades over the car windows, finished his vodka, and let out a long sigh. Opening another bottle, the elder revolutionary peered through the shades at the locals, before repulsing in disgust. "Why must they be so loud and bothersome?" he muttered to himself. His motorcade speeding through the tight city streets, he got out his Huawei cell-phone. As one of the only two Eseki's to have access to computers, the internet, and the like, he was less than adequately versed on this technology. He struggled to dial the number of his People's Consul of the Interior, Alexei Karal back in Naftishli, whom he had placed in charge during his absence.

[DIAL TONE]

Beshimov: Ahh, Good Morning Alexei.

Karal: Good Morning, comrade General-Secretary.

Beshimov: Have you ordered the spies to enter the hotel?

Karal: I absolutely have.

Beshimov: Good, then you'll be able to set them up properly, yes?

Karal: As of the current moment, yes.

Beshimov: Excellent. Look, I've got to go. I'll speak to you in a while.

Karal: Of course, comrade General-Secretary.

[CALL ENDED]

Beshimov placed the phone in his personal briefcase as the motorcade pulled up to the palace. Unsure where to go, the driver pulled up to a local palace official near the entrance to ask where he should take the General-Secretary...

[Caraintos]

Back at the gardens of the Tasario Palace, the crowds continued their vocal admiration of the arriving guests, or least for some of them. There were several oohs and ahhs as they caught sight of Princess Gisella, though there were a few looks of less than pleased as the most staunch of royalist, those who searched up the rules and regulations that governed court life and despite never being apart of it, believed in said rules fiercely glared at Princess Gisella.

“Her Highness Princess Gisella of the AHSCA has arrived,” said the reporter as the cameras followed her, “Though it send the princess may have ruffled quite a bit of feathers with her choice of headwear. Certainly pushing the limits of proper hat wear—“

The reporter stopped as there was a gasp that went through the crown as the princess stumbled and had to be caught by the guard. This of course had to be caught on camera and the reporter took on a softer tone as she spoke.

“Oh dear, It seems that Princess Gisella almost went for a tumble there. One might come to the conclusion that she might have had more proper hat that was up to code, perhaps she might have better balance. Let’s hope that Her Highness may gain some more stability once she gets to her seat.” There was a small round of chuckles from the reporter and her crew.

Meanwhile inside the gardens, Slynt made her way through the gardens and the seats, buzzing around like a bee, directing servants, performers and assisting the guests when and where she could. The cameras here watched with minimal interest, focusing here and there as some of the guests chatted with one another. Slynt directed Prince Constantine, Princess Gisella and the Kyrenaian royals to their seats, making sure to keep the princess and Fara & Mahmut on opposite sides of the aisle.

As the Secretary-General arrived, a footman gestured for the foreign head of state to follow the designated pathway along the crowds and to the gates of the royal palace’s gardens. The cameras turned their attention to the new arrival.

[Esekistan]

Palace Garden
Resdaro, Caraintos

Part I - The Arrival (Continued)

Beshimov's motorcade pulled up and into the garden, a flurry of cameras and people greeted it. The shades still pulled down, Beshimov took one last swig of his vodka before the car came to a stop. He waited a moment before reluctantly opening the car door. His guard following suit and assuming their positions beside and behind him, he stepped away from the motorcade as it pulled away. Foreign cameras pointed at him was a rare occurrence, one that had not happened since the mid-60's, and Beshimov was not about to let an opportunity go to waste. Blatantly strolling a bit too close to the cameras with his guards, briskly walking through to the main area, abuzz with various international figures and servants. A bit taken back, Beshimov orders his guards to place their pistols off to the side, to prevent anyone from getting nervous. Beshimov himself, however, kept his at his side. Taking a seat near the front, his guards standing off to the side, he once again dialed the number of Karal, and began speaking in a hushed voice.

[DIALING NUMBER]

Karal: Comrade, I trust you've made your way to a private location?

Beshimov: Hahah, of course Alexei. Nobody will overhear your ranting and raving over cookie fillings.

Karal: Very funny, comrade. We've established the spies in the hotel, and they're getting their radios and tools set up. We should expect them to be ready sometime in the next hour or so.

Beshimov: Excellent news, Alexei. I've got to go, there's someone approaching me.

[CALL ENDED]

Beshimov, relieved to be off the phone, turned to look at the other guests. As he sat, he saw a curious woman almost fall flat on her face. What an idiot he thought. Turning to his guards, he gave them a subtle nod. They saluted the General-Secretary, and proceeded towards the back of the garden...

Beshimov is wearing his full military attire as seen in the previous photo, as well as a generic Soviet army brimmed cap, as well as carrying a black iron cane, ordained with gold rims and a golden handle embalmed with a red hammer and sickle, as well as his briefcase. His guards are wearing something like this

[Estados Vaticanos]

The Prince was lost and disoriented until a man arrived who asked him to follow him and very calmly followed him.On the way they picked up three more people who, because of everything learned in the etiquette classes, could realize who they were. , one of them. It was Princess Gisella and the other two were princes of an Arab kingdom little known in the Vatican states.

-And when is the delivery of gifts- asked the young prince impatiently for fear that he would forget and leave without giving such an important gift.

That was asked by the prince when they only indicated which was his seat that had a view of the place where the couple would be so that he would be happy, he looked at the women of Caraintos who were quite beautiful with their dresses of all colors but the Young prince did not want to approach until the ceremony was over and learn a little more about the customs of that country that perhaps its women could be quite conservative with the boys or they could simply be engaged.

[Kyrenaia]

It was a short time before this gathering, this gala, Princess Gisella Villa made a snap decision, she just needed to get away from all the noise! Noise, noise, noise! Her elder sister, whom she adored and respected and admired six ways to Sunday sort of kicked off a rather chain of events, insulting the sitting Monarch of another nation, deploying a covert team to recon them, stubbornly refusing to apologize, it increasingly felt like this was a game of chicken and both were just waiting to see who would swerve first. Granted, The Sultanate of Kyrenaia, whom they had just broken off said relations with, hadn't begun any hostile acts, well none obvious at least. Their base demolition was a strong enough explosion that the entire island where it sat was rattled by it. Some of the other nations they hosted embassies for, had to ask if there was an earthquake and were in need of help because their geological censors registered enough force to make it seem like there was one. Anyway that controlled demolition was starting to get people nervous, wondering if it was intended as a message

Uuugh this was a trying time, the press was all over it, poor Gisella just had enough, she riffled through her sister's non-private correspondence to see if maybe someone somewhere had invited her personally to a party or just sent a general invitation for any interested heads of state or high ranks of government and nobility alike. Well to her luck there was one but she had to hightail it out and get there quickly to be ready and on time. She had a couple of gifts picked out, pretty common for wedding parties, and now she was here. Though the Deputy Foreign Officer did offer to join her in attendance to help her know who was who among all the guests, Gisella declined, poor Noir (the current Foreign Officer) would need all the help she could get right now until this all settles down.

So all Gisella had was a small guide of the guests Roshin could find, even then it wasn't likely complete given how quickly it had to be thrown together, (boy was Gisella in for a surprise) and of course a single bodyguard. Shirley Potsdam, a member of The Crimson Knights detail. Shirley was a little more serious minded and all business at times, compared to the Duchess' (her sister) personal guard but still, Gisella made any attempt to be friendly with her. Shirley could see the effort and appreciate it, but her duty was first and foremost to guard the life of the Princess, more than be a confidant. Best leave that to handmaidens, but still, given everything going on, she thought maybe she should try to be more warm and open with the young Princess.

Gisella stared out the window of their transport car. "Milady," She spoke, "Doing okay?"

"Oh? Oh yeah, yeah I'm fine. Sorry, I'm kind of nervous. It's not every day I get to go to these kinds of engagements on my own, usually I'm with sis."

"Understandable. Well I'm sure you'll do fine and be a lovely guest for the bride and groom to be. You're a fine young woman already."

"oh well..." Gisella giggled a bit embarrassed, "You're very kind, Shirley."

"I know but I'm a bit stern for your liking. I suppose with everything going on, you probably need a kind face for a change. Consider me that."

"Thank you, but I'd also rather not talk about everything going on right now."

"Certainly Milady, consider that subject dropped. It seems we've arrived." Out they stepped, Shirley in her uniform of the Knights Gisella in her finest gown, a crown woven of dried out decorative lotus flowers atop her head Well no time to fuss over going ons back home time to be a proper prim Princess. Taking time to try to survey the guests made Gisella nearly trip over her own two feet.

"Milady, are you all right?" Shirley caught her from taking a nasty spill "I'm fine, just a little klutzy is all."

"It's all right. You can hold to my arm if you wish."

"Oh no need, I just need to watch where I'm going is all."

Of course she had spotted there were people from Kyrenaia here, rather unmistakable, she'd seen them before a handful of times. Shirley's eyes too darted around, it was her job to seize up the enviroment of course, should she need to rush the Princess to safety. "I see..."

Gisella let out a little moan.

"Fear not, Milady, remember I am here to protect you."

"Oh, I'm certain they wouldn't want to harm me."

"I know. Certainly nobody here would, at least no guests would but it's not just your physical well being I have to look after. I'll ensure nobody you don't want gets too close to you, trust in me."

"Thank you, Miss Shirley"

"My pleasure, Milady. Come, let's get you to your seat."

Right, best just keep out of each other's way, she won't bother them, they probably won't bother her.

Prince Mahmut ibn-Idris.
Tasario Palace Gardens/Wedding Venue.
Both Fara and I were unaware of MM's little mishap - if we would have been aware, we would have been more bemused then anything. We knew the facts (and had the yellow press articles to prove it), so there was little to no issue in our mind.
The mishap of accidentally making a couple would be the least concerning thing on my mind, however, as a commotion by the entrance drew mine and Fara's attention.
I recognized the girl immediately: Princess Gisella, a girl I had taken out to a ball once and who was, more importantly, younger sister to Duchess Marcella Villa, the woman we currently had a 'diplomatic crisis' with.
"Oh, bugger...", I cursed under my breath in Kyrenaian.
"Yes.", Fara replied in the same language, "That tiara is so tacky." I looked at her with a raised eyebrow. She looked back with a flat stare. "Yes, I know, who she is and I know, who she is to you. Now we know, why the Sultana was so dead-set to have you along. You know, how to play this, right?"
"Polite, but distant, if I am approached by her.", I replied, "Very big if, all things considered."
"Indeed.", Fara replied and we watched other guests arrive (the view of the Vatican Prince, of us being Arabs, was unknown to us, but would cause some level of bemusement as well - that mistake happened all the time).
In time, we were directed to our seats and with some bemusement, I noticed, that we were seated on opposide sides of the aisles from Gisella.
Wise decision on the part of the hosts, even if I doubted, that any side in this would start anything.
With the Mervayan Mediation still ongoing, there was little for anyone to say anyway.

[Caraintos]

Slynt took note of the guests as they reached their seats and went back to handling affairs. As the foreign guards of the secretary-general dispersed, Slynt gently stepped to the side and whispered into the ear of one of the palace guards. They would keep an eye out. The over lapping fields of view of the gardens were after all meant for more than just admiration of the flower beds, though the flower beds were quite lovely. They were well cared for by the gardeners employed by the palace to match the whims and moods of the Queen.

The General observation of the foreign guards was not regulated simply to one nation. All of them were watched. They were all greatly outnumbered. A virtual army of palace guards, the Home Guard and the capital’s police officers surrounded the palace and the moved through the city. After all, with so many extra people crowding the city, they had to be all the more observant. The garden’s walls did come quite in handy in regards to the crowds. They largely muffled the sound of the swarms of people outside then, safe for those nearest the gates.

Instead camera shutters and flashes filled the gardens as M.M. Was determined to catch every moment of it all in order to sell to the people. Though even they knew that the sight of a myriad of elite simply waiting in anticipation would only do quite so much. The cameras swings around, stoping briefly on the various guests from different angles. But it was not merely the cameras who were interested in the guests, but the guests themselves. Such a gathering of the nobles hadn’t occurred in a generation.

There were whispers and introductions and old friends catching up. Nearest to the front, they looked to the foreigners.

“It is so strange to have another head of state here,” said Marcyn Strickland to his wife, Alsyanne Strickland, the lord and lady of a vast series of farms in the countryside.

“Yet no other kings or queens,” noted Alysanne.

“But a Secretary-General is quite the sight, and I heard a chancellor is to be in attendance as well.”

Elsewhere Lady Corrbray sat in her seat, even then still leaning a bit on her cane as she looked at the foreign royals. Lady Corrbray wasn’t quite sure what the King and Queen hoped to gain from inviting so many foreign royals. In another time, when the halls of Tasario had been full to the brim with princelings, she might have understood it. But as she saw it, it was too late for them to be of any use to the Cressey Dynasty.

Of course the Cressey were not the only family in Caraintos, and certainly not the only ones interested in foreign royals. Ladies Bryeana, Chyanne and Helaena Parrens, the three daughters of a fishing mogul in the capital city preened at Prince Constantine, seated only a row ahead of them. The three Parren sisters exemplified the heights of Caraintese fashion for women. Their dresses were steel gray, blue and turquoise respectively, with skirts falling past the knee, high empire waistlines with sashes and their hair pulled back into buns, parted and curled to frame either side of their faces.

Most Caraintese people had olive skin and black or brown hair, and they mostly kept to the fashions of their hair. Long hair was frown upon, seen as scandalous and lustful. Or rather, visibly long hair. In public one’s hair should never reach past the shoulders. Short hair too was seen as a bad sign, for both men and women. On men beards were preferred. Thus, to the Caraintese standards most of the guests looked quite odd. But if said oddness repulsed those of mine of the Parren sisters, the titles of Royal Highness and Prince and Princess largely blinded the Caraintese to the physical flaws of their strange visitors.

[The Ideal Caliphate]

Emirah Aisha Bint Suleiman Hamdan JD (a lawyer and wife of the Caliph) arrives with her guards to the wedding, she is delighted at the chance to make new friends and garner political support. She was wearing a black jilbab and khimar, a gold ring with a ruby and a silver and emerald necklace.

[Esekistan]

Palace Garden
Resdaro, Caraintos

Part II - Mingling

Emirah Aisha Bint Suleiman Hamdan JD (a lawyer and wife of the Caliph) arrives with her guards to the wedding, she is delighted at the chance to make new friends and garner political support. She was wearing a black jilbab and khimar, a gold ring with a ruby and a silver and emerald necklace.

As Beshimov watched his guards retreat towards the flank of the crowded garden, he spotted a woman enter the garden. Not just any woman, he realized. A muslim. Disgusted and angered, he clutched the pistol hidden within his coat, stood up and glanced over at his guards. They rushed over, took up their positions around him, and he picked up his briefcase. He slowly and briskly strolled over to where this woman stood. A bit taken back, his guards stood firm as he stared the woman directly in the eyes. A clearly angry tone in his voice, he began to speak.

"Who the hell invited a dirty infidel such as you here, you maggot? Have you no shame?" he said, gruffly.

[The Ideal Caliphate]

Palace Garden
Resdaro, Caraintos

Part II - Mingling
(Image)

As Beshimov watched his guards retreat towards the flank of the crowded garden, he spotted a woman enter the garden. Not just any woman, he realized. A muslim. Disgusted and angered, he clutched the pistol hidden within his coat, stood up and glanced over at his guards. They rushed over, took up their positions around him, and he picked up his briefcase. He slowly and briskly strolled over to where this woman stood. A bit taken back, his guards stood firm as he stared the woman directly in the eyes. A clearly angry tone in his voice, he began to speak.

"Who the hell invited a dirty infidel such as you here, you maggot? Have you no shame?" he said, gruffly.

“Think you’re cool, insulting a woman, do you? My late father-in-law literally beat China you bitch, besides you’re mother is a prostitute.”
OOC:
The Sino-Islamic war was a thing.

[Caraintos]

Slynt quickly and smoothly intervened as she caught sight of the confrontation between the Secretary-General and the Emirah, who both got looks of disapproval from the other guests and the M.M. Crew, who directed their coverage elsewhere. No one was in the mood for such disruptions and certainly not over a quarrel of a bigot and his intolerant stance. Slynt stepped between the two and looked to the Emirah.

“Your Royal Highness, please, take your seat.” Slynt said as two footmen moved to escort the Emirah to her sit, physically staying between the woman and the Secretary-General. Slynt then turned to the man. “If you’ll please follow me, I can take you somewhere you may feel more comfortable.”

[Garandy]

Prince Nizar Lota stepped out of the town car that had taken him to the Tasario Palace, admiring the building as he was greeted by cameras and the sight of thousands of Caraintese citizens. Clearly excitement would have been an understatement when talking about this event. Which was fine by Nizar. It was the thirty-two (32) year old’s first diplomatic event, and it was a nice wedding and a party. What could be better?

Nizar Lota was the youngest of the three Lota brothers, who ruled the small densely populated island nation of Garandy, the line blurring between them as legitimate governors and criminals. But then, it wasn’t a crime if you were in charge now was it? Nizar had less experience in the more brutal criminal affairs of his two elder brothers, before carving a throne for himself, his eldest brother had been a mob boss and his other brother a pirate. Not to say they weren’t any more, even with their fancy titles.

Nizar had always been a more behind the doors kind of… member of the family business, with his brother leaving his kind face to serve as a public liaison with their soldiers and the people that lived underneath their protection. How that had translated into diplomatic affairs was more a matter of convenience. His brother Cyriasan was off in the Western Sea dealing with matters, so Nizar had been sent cross the Southern Sea to attend the Caraintese Crown Prince’s wedding and give him his brother Masoandro his regards.

This lead to Nizar in a stylish tailor made morning suit with a turquoise tie and pocket square, a hand in clean cut trousers’ pocket. Nizar lean and tall, at six foot even, with dark brown skin like smoked sandalwood. He, like all members of the Lota Family had white hair, a genetic disposition that made the dark skinned royals stand out. Nizar, like his brother Masoandro wore his white coily hair short, unlike their brother Cyriasan who preferred to keep his in dreadlocks.Nizar spared a brief smile, showing off his pearly whites, to the cameras before making his way inside of the gardens.

[Caraintos]

The arrival of the Garandaian prince wads welcomed distraction from the small debacle in the gardens and the cameras were quick to follow him as he stepped out of his car and made his way up the path. Dark skinned people, while not unseen in Caraintos, were not a common sight, often regulated to being seen in the port cities like Resdaro. Though white hair was the even more unseen thing, save for on the elderly, but it was quite clear that the prince was not elderly.

“Ah, we see the arrival of Prince Nizar, from the small island nation of Garandy, looking quite dashing in that suit, though I’d say his hair had more people’s attention than anything else. Today is proving quite the day for eye openers on headwear and hairstyles from around the world.”

Rather little was definitively known about Nizar or his country, and what information the Palace had been able to find on the small tropical island had been decided to be left out from their reports provided for the M.M. crews. A den for criminals was hardly the sort of background that the Palace wanted revealing for one of their guests. And after learning of the pirates that called Garandy home, the Caraintese hadn’t wanted to offend the Garandaians, less they find some of their commercial vessels harassed.

Better to keep their coverage short and sweet, had been all the Palace had been willing to definitively say in regards to the prince of Garandy. So M.M. did so, and found themselves focus much more on the mere person, though if they were honest, that was the interest of a great swath of their audience. For many these were not real people, but characters, representatives of far away lands. Interesting and eye catching figures, these princesses with their lovely dresses and lords with their sharp suits, each playing into the romantic notion of the crown and those that orbited it.

[Awesome Imperium]

The Imperial Jet landed at the airport. The Grand Princess look out of the window as reporters cam rushing to the plane. She was traveling with Foreign Minister Rachel and Ambassador Ryan Rex along with five members of the Imperial Guards. A Glossy Black Limo aproached the stair case as the last of the guards came down from the plane. The Princess, minister, and ambassador got in the limo and it sped away to the Palace of the King of Cariantos. The Limo cam to a stop at the royal gardens. The Foreign Minister led the way to the Main area.