Gaosa, The Celestial Empire
April 2135
The city of Gaosa was dark. It was the morning of the coronation of the Celestial Empire’s beloved young new emperor, Andeja IV, eldest child and only son of the late Emperor Andeja III and Marijani d’Aurelains and the capital was holding its breath. Thousands, tens of thousands, hundreds of thousands of people had made their way into the city, filling it to bursting. Resting in the highlander heart of the Celestial Empire, seated on an island and on the banks of a spilt river before it fell to the East in series of breathtaking waterfalls dropping over two hundred feet before continuing flowing into glittering lakes, Gaosa was picturesque, and while small when found by Emperor Andeja II, it had grown much and more over the years. A devastating fire had reduced it to ashes, but that had been taken with stride.
Under the architectural guidance of Andeja Ardales, along with Lwandle Soga and Dengana Le Vau, Gaosa had been transformed into a garden city of the future, with broad tree lined boulevards and mixed zoning neighborhoods, though the mast majority of the city was still under construction. In the center however rose the Ijuru Ingoro, the palace that was to be the beating heart of the Celestial Empire, a house of governance and palace of imperial residence, a cathedral to its glory.
The Ijuru Ingoro was massive. Designed by Lwandle Soga, the structure looked over the rest of the city in the dark of early morning like a mountain, seen from anywhere and everywhere in the city. A thousand feet tall, and with a similar diameter, easily the largest in the world, there had been many who had feared that it was too large, for it was already five times larger than Soga had originally intended. But Ardales had been determined to dazzle not just the world, but the Emperor himself. Structurally the great dome was a marvel, a set pair of steel lattice reinforcements created the shell that anchored deep beneath the ground. They had been forced to redirect the river and bore foundations over a thousand feet down just to set the foundation in place before building up. Gold colored glass gilded the entire structure in here layers, one between the steel bars, those for the interior and those for the exterior. And that was not to mention the cost. The Duchess of Mouscron, the recently elected prime minister, when shown the cost of the project, though having been completed in a matter of 16 months thanks to Soga’s ingenious design of construction, had fainted. No one had been willing to inform the Emperor on just how much the massive palace had cost, and it was guard fiercely for fear of sparking a global economic crisis.
The truly titanic cost of the Ijuru Ingoro, unbeknownst to even the Emperor had been the very reason that the coronation had to be the grandest in history. It was, Ardales, Alencon and Mouscron had decided, the only possible way to even begin paying off the structure. Alencon, no longer the regent, and Mouscron had for a time made a truce, and worked as much as they could to not only plan the coronation, but to make it a must see event. The people already liked Andeja IV, if only because he was not his father, but the two had pushed to make the citizens adore him, to worship him, and thus made it feel that it was their duty to come and attend and witness his coronation. Medals, coins, plates, cups, shirts, and every other kind of merchandise imaginable had been commissioned to generate revenue. Tours, photographs and documentaries had been set in motion, filmed and sent out with waves of propaganda promoting the Ijuru Ingoro as the very symbol of the Celestial Empire, and portraying the Emperor as a living divine figure, a demigod amongst men. Mouscron had assured her political base that the Emperor was refined, graceful and adore his mother and centuries of tradition. Alencon had assured his that the Emperor was fun-loving, rebellious and as liberal with his heart as with his policies. The half truths, exaggerations and indoctrination, all done it might be noted without the Emperor’s knowing, had the desired effect. A sea of people from across the vast Celestial Empire had descended upon the capital, from Aukusa to Oran, from Songelia to Ezikwizalo. And that wasn’t to mention those who had come from abroad.
The Ijuru Ingoro could not hold them all, but it could hold a great many. 180,000 people would have the honor of entering the doors of the Ijuru Ingoro. Among them the heads of state from most of the Celestial Empire’s neighbors the interior amphitheater, shaped like a T with various overhangs and balconies beneath the dome to house so many was filled to the brim with the guests, many of whom complained about the early start of the coronation. Why, the come question was, had they had to start at four in the morning? The guests were many, mostly wealthy as the tickets for the event had been astronomical, though even the grumpiest of guests found it well worth it as they made their way to their seats in the dimly lit dome. Everyone had dawn their best outfits. Most wore oba suits, the fashionable stable of men’s clothing from Aukusa City (most were unaware of its roots in the traditional garments of Narumadans) while women wore colorful empire waist dresses and long gloves and even longer trains. Tiaras sat on the heads of many, particularly young women from Aukusa Bay Area, where young heiresses had spent fortunes on commissioned pieces to wear (subject to a hefty luxury tax that would go to pay for the Ijuru Ingoro), while those of the nobility wore the family jewels. As many of the robber baron families of the Aukusa Bay Area were often far wealthier than their mainlander noble counterparts, those like the Saudjidas daughters or the Muraty duties virtually sparkled like stars while the more financially modest Attwoods were not likely to be mistaken for descendants of the first emperor.
Nobles did have the benefit of closet seats. Thanks to the culling of the old families by Andeja III, an action that neither his son nor the Duke of Alencon had seen keen on reversing, the small pool of nobles of the Celestial Empire had grown ever more prestigious, wearing ermine lined capes and robes atop their glamorous dresses and suits. While the Attwoods were among them, they were outside by the others of their circle. The Percys, the Dupuys, the Yoyos, and the Rohans all stood near the front, albeit missing a member of two. The Duke of Maine, head of the house of Rohan stood with his second wife and his gaggle of children. Ahead of him came the Hollandes, by far the largest of the noble families. Though no longer the wealthiest, or even the second or third or fourth in the empire, the Hollande still by far held the most noble titles. Chief amongst them was Prince Andeja of Gante, who, after four years of exile had finally be able to return to the. Celestial Empire. By him was his daughter and heir, Safiya of Gante and his son, the Duke of Angoulême. There was his first cousin, Francesca de Mauelárt, grandmother of the Queen of Turanda. There was her uncle, the fabulously wealthy ninety-eight year old Charles LeCastle with his daughter, the Duke of Newport, and his LecCastle and Blackthorn grandchildren, as well as his niece and nephew by his youngest brother, the pair finally freed from house arrest.
The elderly Duchess of Infinity along with her many Ardales descendants including the Duke of Samory and the aforementioned Andeja Ardales stood tall. So did her first cousin, the Duke of Sebta, once destined to be prince consort of Genes only for dare to intervene, a quiet man flanked by his son and grandchildren. Less somberly was the Dowager Duchess of Kerry, former sister-in-law of the late Andeja I and grandmother of Lady Akexandrine Hollande, one time fiancé of Andeja IV. The Duchess of Mouscron and Connaught was there with her husband.
Oldest amongst the guests was undoubtably the Duke of Aumale, the former admiral having celebrated his 101st birthday back in February. The former admiral and prime Minister, a stern figure, was aided by his daughter, granddaughter and great-granddaughters, for his line had been entirely female. Vantern Narkov III, along with his adult children was there as well, by virtue of his Hollande mother, the late Josephine of Gante. Thdd we Duke of Wervik, another military man stood with his wife, Princess Meseret of Genes and his uncle, the ancient Duke of Cröy (who intended to leave everything to his spurned niece, the aforementioned Alexandrine Hollande.
Ahead of the Hollandes, Ardales and LeCastles, for there were but few who could be considered to out class or outrank these prestigious families came the foreign visitors, presidents, diplomats, royals and monarchs from nations including Great Hyruke, along with the Montagu Family, from whom the Emperor descended from through his mother, Narumada, Turanda, Imarati (all of which had monarchs descendant from Askia the Great), Zydos, Garandy, Patuania, Seoya, Leriya, Mabouya, Nemidia and Varendia. Chief amongst the foreign guests were the Valois of Genes, whose Queen, Louise was married to the Emperor’s granduncle, Prince Antoine, Duke of Anjou. The Celestial and Genoise Royal families had been intertwined many times over the centuries and it had been deemed proper, as to reassure the Queen of their friendship. Next to the Queen of Genes was the Queen of Colfico and her brothers and sisters, for Queen Adriana alone amongst rulers was closer to the Emperor by blood, for she was the Duke of Alencon’s granddaughter. Elected to the Colficoan Throne, Queen Adriana while liked by her younger cousin, was unpopular in the Celestial Empire for her liberal democratic ideals. Still, Adriana, considered the conciliator of the family, stood quietly in a modest scarlet gown with the blue Colficoans royal crown on her head.
At last ahead of her were the Imperial princes. There were Queen Adriana’s own uncles, cousins of the Crown Princess of Genes, and the Duke of Alencon himself, his youngest and favorite son Anakele ever at his side. Nearby was his sister, Princess Alara and her daughter the Countess of Fionete, along, to the shock of all, their half-sister, Princess Yonela; the twenty-three year old Duchess of Haillun and sole surviving daughter of Andeja I by his second wife, the late Empress Anaressa. Princess Yonela, who had been just thirteen when her elderly father had died, and just eighteen when her eldest half brother had died, had been amongst many who Andeja III had sought to execute. Yonela, fearing fir her life had thus put on men’s clothing and escape over the palace walls, making her way to the sea and into the islands of Sajurania and Garandy, where the young princess, still living as a man—named Youssef— had had a series of adventures most scandalous. Becoming a mercenary, she’d fought in the Lajaz-Turandan War, aiding in kidnapping several important figures, along with committing several other crimes, had become the lover of a pirate lord, who seemed to only have realized she was female when she became pregnant, though that had done nothing to hamper their romance. She had married no less than three men and one woman, each in a separate port before giving birth to a daughter and a messy duel that left her widowed four times over. Living fluidly as the mistress of a pirate fleet terrorizing the Southern Sea, having taken over following the death of their pirate lord after a struggled solved by a plot most dubious involving a monkey and a brothel, she had been shocked when Garandy had gained independence and was informed by the nearness of their grandnephew, who they had been shocked to learn was Emperor and had no interest in executing them.
Thus they had sailed into Aukusa Bay with their fleet of ships and kindly inquired to their brother the Duke of Alencon of gaining a pardon and a small estate on the coast in exchange for their surrendering of all they had captured and plundered. Alencon, who had always liked his little half-sibling, young enough to be his granddaughter, had been pleased to do so and it had been his last task before his regency ended. Thankfully not many where inclined to believe that the fearsome Captain Youssef and the young slim Princess Yonela were one and the same. Which was how the androgynous Yonela found themselves dressed in a fine soft orange morning suit and tiara at their grandnephew’s (only two years their junior) coronation.
And finally at the front were the three daughters of Andeja II and aunts of the Emperor, along with their mother, Empress Dowager Amelie de Hollande. The Empress Dowager was a fifty-two year old woman dressed all in white, the color of mourning, with a small diamond crown on her head and a long white mourning veil draped down her back. Next to her was her eldest daughter, the Duchess of Hyrea, clad in baby blue with a diamond studded gele on her head, and more dangling from her ears and around her neck. The Duchess was by far one of, if not, the wealthiest individuals in the seats, or rather her husband, Prince Loris of Connuriste, who locked his arm around her own. His vast fortune was thanks to the combined great business practices and collections of his mother and paternal grandparents. Next to the Duchess of Hyrea was her sister Princess Mamela, who was only slightly less scandalous than her aunt Yonela. Mamela, once shy and quiet, she had blossomed while in Great Hyruke and had discovered herself to be a libertine. She had slept, partied, writtened and gossiped her way across the continent. Her salons, halls of women discussing every and any topic, had been pearl clutching, so much so that the Duke of Alencon had don’t everything in his power to prevent her from taking the regency— which some had argued was her right as third-in-line to the throne (as her elder sister and nieces were excluded from the line of succession by the nature of her marriage, the same true for Mamela’s younger sister, and thus she as the only unmarried one had retain her place). Alara, said younger sister, was there as well with her husband, the Hyrukian Prince Royal.
These three princesses, the Empress Dowager along were their spouses and the Queen of Genes and Queen of Colfico were privileged with having front row seats. They sat before the dais upon which sat the Obsidian Throne. The Obsidian Throne, as thrones went was not too special. A large black chair carved from obsidian with gold thread cushions and armrests was as old as the Volonte Dynasty. Ceremonial, it was almost never send outside of formal addresses, through Andeja II, the Emperor’s late grandfather had been particularly fond of it, and was said to have died in it. Even in the dim light of the early morning however it was impressive, raised high above the people seated closest to it.
