OOC: This is a thread for social events and even one-on-one interactions that don't fit anywhere else. It is open to the countries of the Western Atlantic and those invited to join in. If you're anyone else and would like to join, please send me a telegram to tell me why and request and invitation. Thanks!
More OOC: This first post is a joint post between Excalbia, Knootoss, the Caldan Union, Cyretopolitania and Utrasylva.
The Imperial Summer Palace
Imperial Preserve Island, Excalbia
Before Christmas, 2022
Traditionally, there were three high points to the social season in Citadel Excalbia - the Emperor’s Birthday Ball (which moved from April 11 to March with the ascension of Joseph); the Midsummer Eve’s Garden Party; and the Imperial Christmas Ball. While Midsummer was famed for its casual atmosphere, colorful, ancient attire and frivolity, the Christmas Ball was a far more formal event - with men in tailcoats with white ties and ladies in evening dresses and gloves.
The Imperial Summer Palace, situated on the Imperial Preserve Island - the smaller sister of the capital’s Citadel Island, was lavishly decorated and brilliantly lit for the occasion. The main glass hall of the Palace was covered in fresh pine garland, poinsettias of many colors, and several large, impeccably decorated Christmas trees. Standing tables were nestled among the greenery and stewards in the traditional blue tailcoat of Imperial Household Agency moved about with trays of drinks and food.
Guests were received by the Imperial Chamberlain, Lady Jenolyn Tremane, and announced by a steward. Everyone mingled as they awaited the formal introduction of the Emperor, Empress and Crown Princess.
—
There was a bit of a ruckus when the doors opened for Duchess Maria Amalia van Löwenstadt-Chamaven, her husband, and her children. As it was the first time that the family attended a public event with their youngest, ‘Bernie’, there had been more Knootian celebrity press than usual at Excalbian Imperial events.
The cause of the trouble, twenty-three year old Lodewijk, was still grinning with flushed cheeks after sticking out his tongue at a journalist he’d recognised, and waving regally in a way that made it seem as though he might have flipped him the bird. The second son was by far the flashiest dresser of the group, wearing the tightly tailored mess uniform of the "Purple-born" Brigadier-General of the 6th Chamavic Ducal Cavalry Guard Brigade, complete with white gloves with gold trim, epaulets, an outrageous feathered hat and a purple cloak.
His elder brother - the heir - seemed almost invisible next to him in the biscay naval uniform of a Knootian Lieutenant-at-Sea. Indeed, he seemed focussed on shepherding Constantia and Bernie past the line of journalists without incident: Constantia because she seemed to linger, and Bernie because the flash photography seemed to make the sixteen-year-old prince dizzy. .
Maria Amalia looked regal in her long black dress, with accents of silver and tyrian purple to distinguish it from a garment that would be worn whilst mourning. Her disapproval of Lodewijks’ behaviour was only shown through a brief but icy cold glance in his direction. Then the smiles returned as she accepted the Chamberlains’ reception.
—
Lady Jenolyn Tremane, the Imperial Chamberlain and Head of the Imperial Household Agency, gave a small curtsey, holding the sides of her dark blue floor length formal gown. “Your Graces,” she said to the Duchess of Chamaven and her consort, “welcome to Excalbia. Their Imperial Majesties are pleased that you could attend this year and they look forward to greeting you.”’She turned her head to the Duchess’ children. “And a most sincere welcome to you, My Lords, My Lady.”
As the Chamberlain rose, a steward in a dark blue tailcoat stepped forward and announced, “Maria Amalia van Löwenstadt-Chamaven, Duchess of Chamaven
Defender of True Christianity and Mr. Bogislaus von Löwenstadt, Peter Jan von Löwenstadt, Lord of Twinloo; Lord Lodewijk Willem George von Löwenstadt; and Lady Constantia von Löwenstadt.”
—
Among the guests already mingling in the Great Glass Hall was the Duchess' mother, the Dowager Duchess Alexandra Maria Ingrid van Chamaven. The elderly woman, slightly bent and leaning on a cane, still cut a tall and imposing figure. She looked towards her daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren and smiled. She turned to the equally elderly couple beside her.
“Maria and the children are here,” she said with a smile. “We'll see how long it takes them to come over and say hello.”
Alexandra's sister-in-law, Aya Rebecca Mariam, Baroness of Dienvidumezs and Hatun of the House of Jawharin, shook her head. “Why don't we simply go and greet them, Alex?”
“You should know my sister better by now,” Albert George, Baron of Dienvidumezs, said with a chuckle. He turned and looked around.
“What’re you looking for, Albert?” Alexandra asked.
“My grandson,” the Baron said. “He should come over to greet his cousins.”
“He's over there,” Aya said with a nod, “talking with some of the other young people.”
Albert motioned to his grandson after catching his attention. “Good, he can introduce his cousins to some of their peers.”
__
As it happened, it would not take long for the Duchess Maria to approach her aging mother, approaching the Dowager Duchess and her company with all the grandchildren in tow. Marria offered the traditional three kisses and a chaste hug for her mother, as though she was almost afraid she’d break her. She then turned to the Baron and Baroness.
“Uncle”. Albert received three kisses. “And Aunt Aya.” She received the same.
“Say hello to your grandmother, granduncle and -aunt”, she instructed. The Chamaven children had queued up to do so, with Peter going first, followed by Constantia (who did her best curtsey) and Bernhart. Lodewijk came last, since he’d been distracted by the sight of one of the young ladies in one of the more revealing ball gowns, grinning as though he’d been caught out:
“Oh! Yes, hi granny”, he said, his hug more affectionate than formal, before he’d shake hands with the Baron and Baroness of Dienvidumez, already glancing to the side and looking for an excuse to talk to the young lady he’d seen. Peter elbowed his younger brother in the side, before addressing the group:
“It is a pleasure to meet you all again.I will do my best to represent our branch of the family well.”
Bernie seemed quiet and a little lost, but Constantia did pipe up: “So will I - uh, we - be introduced around?”
Alexandra smiled and nodded politely to her daughter and grandchildren, though she did cast a rather stern glance at Lodewijk for his informality on such a formal occasion. Her countenance softened for Peter. “Yes, my dear,” she said with a smile, “it [i]is[/is] pleasant to have so many of us together again. Especially during this joyous season. And I am sure you will represent us well.”
“Yes, of course, my dear,” Alexandra said, turning to Constantia to answer her question. She turned to Albert. “And where is Thomas, Albert?”
“Ah,” the Baron said, finally catching his grandson’s eye, “here he comes now.”
Lord Thomas walked over to the group with a broad smile. He was a handsome young man of about 16 and was dressed in formal attire matching his grandfather, lacking only the metal chains and medallions that the Baron wore as a sign of status.
Thomas stopped at his grandmother’s elbow and bowed slightly. “Grandfather, grandmother, Great Aunt Alexandra,” he said. Then he turned to his cousins. “Your Grace,” he said to Maria, then added, “Cousins,” as he addressed the younger Chamavens. “Welcome.”
“Thomas,” Albert said with a nod towards the Chamaven children, “would you do the honors of introducing your cousins around?”
“Of course, Grandfather.” He turned to his Great Aunt, and then to Maria Amalia. “Your Graces, with your permission.”
Alexandra nodded and smiled.
The young man turned to his cousins. “If you’ll come with me,” he smiled, “I can introduce you to some of the Royal Families of Cyretopolitania and Providencia, and to some members of the House of Trabelsi and Jawharin. Once the Imperial Family is announced, I’ll introduce you to the Crown Princess.”
As they walked out of earshot of the Dowager Duchess and the Baron, Thomas relaxed his posture. “I hope you’ll be glad to know that the rest of the… younger set,” he smiled, “are rather less formal than our grandparents.”
—
Meanwhile, inside the Glass Hall, Crown Prince John of Cyretopolitania was holding his wife’s, Princess Irene’s, hand and reassuring her that their three children - Victoria, George and Alexandra - would be alright in the care of their nannies at their guest house on the Island. The couple had grown comfortable leaving the two older children for official functions - Victoria was seven already and George was three - but Alexandra was only five months old, and John had to admit it still gave him pause to travel so far with an infant only to leave her for a whole evening. Yet, he was the Crown Prince and his father, the King, had asked him to represent them at their cousins’ Christmas Ball.
“It’ll be alright,” Countessa Hannah Halliche said with a small smile. “Irene. John,” she added for emphasis, “Alexandra will be fine. We can all take turns checking on her, if you would like.”
John smiled at his cousin. “Thank you, Hannah. I know you’re right…”
“I am,” she said, momentarily seeming to channel the fierce assurance of their grandmother, Safiya, the Dowager Queen.
John chuckled. “Alright. Alright.” He nodded towards a cluster of younger royals and nobles that included their other cousins, Viscount Yakobas Meziani and Contessa Virina Meziani. “You should go mingle with your cousins and their friends.”
Hannah turned and looked at the group. “I see that Yulia and John have wandered off…”
“Probably to find an even younger group,” the Crown Prince said.
Hannah laughed. “At least I am no longer the youngest at these things…” She looked back at John and Irene. “Are you sure?”
“Yes, yes. Go on,” the Crown Prince said with a nod.
__
Queen Gwendolyn of the Caldan Union frequently attended with her husband, Prince Peter. She was only recently well-enough to travel after the births of her twin sons, the Princes Richard Andrew Ronald and Robert Paul Edward. They were her third and fourth and, likely, her last children. She had found the pregnancy harder than her earlier ones, though there had been no substantive health issues.
The Queen rested her gloved hand in the crook of her husband’s elbow as they glided through the crowd. “It is nice to be back,” she said, “though…” She trailed off, leaving the thought unfinished.
“It is nice to be back,” the Prince Consort and Prince of Kuldiga said with a wistful smile, “and it is… also… strange to be here without David.” He placed a hand atop his wife's and patted it gently.
“I know,” Gwendolyn agreed, sighing lightly. “He always…he was always so steady, so solid. It just isn’t the same without him.”
__
Zsófia entered with her brother and sister, looking around the room for James. It had been a few weeks since his visit to Ultrasylva and, while planning for the wedding continued apace, she hadn’t seen him in person. She headed towards him, Ferenc and Erzsébet trailing after.
James smiled broadly as he spotted Zsófia and her siblings. He straightened his white Imperial Navy mess dress uniform and crossed the room in a few quick steps. He reached out and took Zsófia’s hands in his and, resisting the urge to make a greater display of public affection, discreetly kissed her cheek. “It's so great to see you again, my love. I'm so glad you're here!” He turned to Erzsébet and Ferenc and smiled sheepishly. “And I'm glad to see you, too. I'm glad you all could make it.”
Zsófia grinned. She placed her gloved hands in his and stepped a little closer. “It feels like it’s been an eternity.”
“A few weeks,” Ferenc said with a small smirk. “It is good to be here.”
“It is,” Erzsébet added. “James and I are coffee buddies.”
