The Brothers War | IC (Closed)

[Lacus Magni]

The Brothers War

[url]In Character Thread[/url]
OOC Thread

[Lacus Magni]

Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba
11 September 2016

The sun began to set over Castellum and the Palace of the Augustus atop the Palatine Hill as it continued its descent to the horizon, it’s light flickering off the illuminating the sky to an orange-red hue. Walking below in the Palace gardens were Emperor Jason Augustus and his oldest son, presumed heir Constantine. Behind them followed a pair of dogs, both golden retrievers – who would occasionally chase after birds when they flew near.

The two walked at a leisurely pace through the gardens discussing a number of things, from recent events, to football, to family. Eventually the two men made their way back to the building, where they parted ways for the remainder of the night. “You’ll be speaking with Leo next then?” Constantine asked.

“Then Michael,” the Emperor nodded back, watching his dogs rush back into the Palace ahead of him.

Constantine was hesitant to say anything to his father about Michael, instead he let out a forced smile and nodded back. “Of course. I guess I’ll see you at dinner then.”

Jason made his way through the Palace, smiling to staffers and other people he encountered on his way to his private office. When he reached the final stairway, he heard a rush from behind him, as did two of his Praetorians; it was his son Michael.

“Father,” he shouted, giving the nearby Praetorians a stern look as he neared the Emperor. Michael held an imposing figure, which he gained from his mother’s family. The twenty-year old prince stood at an imposing 6’5”, and he was as strong as he was impulsive. “I had heard you wanted to speak with me.”

“I do,” Jason smiled to his son, turning to face him. “I have a few more things that I need to take care of and then it will be just you and me, I promise.”

“Right…of course, father,” Michael feigned a smile, standing on a near even footing with his father though still a few steps below him. He backed away to allow for the Emperor to continue up the stairs and then into the office before he continued up and found a seat outside.

The Emperor shooed away his detail, as a guard opened the door for him and he entered his office suite. He flashed a quick smile to his secretary, and then he continued to his private office, leaving his guards stationed outside of the suite.

When the door slammed shut behind him, a man sitting at the desk stood. “Caesar,” he said, causing a smile and slight laugh from Jason Augustus.

“Sit, sit, Leo,” Jason said to his nephew Prince Leo, an order the Prince followed. While Jason Augustus had brown and closely cut, clean hair, his nephew’s was curly, long, black, and wild. Prince Michael always liked to remind Leo how much he resembled a barbarian – though Leo always made sure he looked his best. He sat and unbuttoned his dark gray suit jacket that was of the same fashion his uncle, the Emperor, would wear.

“My mother and Empress Marsella said you wished to see me, Caesar,” Leo told his uncle as he stood, with the slimmest of hint of an accent. While he spoke flawless Latin, Leo was born and lived in Ghant for the first six years of his life, any accent he had when speaking Latin was very small, though still something a native speaker could pick out if they were to pay attention to such a thing. It wasn’t something that many made note of, sans for his cousin Michael

“Constantine will be my heir, that much has been no secret for some time. I will publically announce it as such and that he will Junior Emperor before the years end,” the Emperor told his nephew, opening a drawer of his desk and pulling out two glasses and a bottle of whiskey, motioning as if to ask him if he would like any. “I’ll be sending him to Adrianople where he will govern the City and the county of Lusitania. I’d like for you to accompany him.”

Leo nodded affirmatively for a drink, which Jason the poured for each of them. “Me?” he asked curiously.

The Emperor smiled and handed him a glass. “Constantine has an incredibly gifted mind, but he lacks a full understanding of politics and a finesse touch. I need you to assist him…advise him. He won’t enjoy ruling when the time comes…in fact I’m sure he’ll hate every second of it.”

“What of my posting…my commission?” Leo asked of his military commitments. “I can’t simply just leave my post and leave everyone else to pick up my slack.”

“I’ve spoken with Minister Potitiu and the Magister Militum, it’s all taken care of. I’m having you transferred to Adrianople, where you will serve as Constantine’s aide-de-camp. You will also serve at a yet to be determined time at a local base,” Jason Augustus smiled, knowing that his nephew would protest on the grounds he just did.

“Of course then,” Leo responded. “I’d be glad to help in anyway that I can.”

There was a silence among them. Leo had expected that was all his uncle had wanted to tell him, but the Emperor broke the silence after taking a sip from his glass of whiskey. “You’ve grown into a good man, Leo. Your father would be very proud of you…I am very proud of you.”

“Thank you,” Leo winced a smile as he would often do as Jason continued speaking.

“I remember when I first saw you, your mother and your sisters,” he thought back to the moment when he first saw his nephew. “It was the first time I saw your mother in nearly seven years, I don’t even know if we ever spoke in that time. I regret that, not speaking to her, not having an older sister for that period of time. Diana was holding her hand and Thea was in her arms. I’m not sure if they were old enough to even remember it…”

“You met us at the airport,” Leo chimed in. “You were the only one there. I saw you from the window…standing on the tarmac all alone...you had sunglasses on,” he broke out a weak smile as if he found that point amusing. “No one else was in sight and I asked her ‘where is rest of our family…why aren’t they here to welcome us.’ She just looked at me; she looked sad.” The memories of the day weren’t lost on either of them. Forced to flee from Ghant, Leo and his family ran to the only place they knew after the death of his grandfather the Emperor Albert. And to add to the chaos, Jason had just assumed the throne merely hours before after his own father’s – Leo’s grandfather – sudden passing.

Jason looked down for a moment when Leo spoke of the plane landing. His wife at the time forbad her children – even tried her best to persuade Jason to bar Leo and his family from landing – from going to welcome their aunt and her ‘bastard’ children that shamed the Crown and all of Latium. The Emperor nodded thinking of the other troubles plaguing the family at the time. “…It was a difficult…and unique time for a great many of us. I think if it had happened at any different time everyone would have been there.”

“I know what people thought of mother while we lived in Ghish…what they thought of my sisters and I,” Leo replied, looking down to the glass he held near his lap. “We were never going to have a welcoming party to greet us, but to my surprise you, the Emperor, greeted us in person. I know that meant the world to mother, and it made us feel like maybe everything was going to be alright.”

“I wish the circumstances for your first trip to Latium were more desirable, truly. As odd as it sounds seeing my sister again, and with her three children was one of the few times in the six years prior that I had genuinely been happy. I’ve thought of you as a son ever since,” he added, taking a brief pause while Leo continued looking forward towards him, holding his glass somewhat awkwardly. “I don’t know how receptive to the idea you are, but I’ve spoken with your mother about it and she approves. If you consent, I would like to adopt you as my own son, as a Prince of Latium with the rights and privileges that come with the title.”

“…me, a Prince of Latium?” Leo repeated the Emperor’s words with surprise.

“You were heir to Ghant after your half-brother became Emperor...the proper, rightful heir at least. No doubt that country would have been better served with you as its Emperor than that whore-mongering Nathan,” a comment whose irony wasn’t lost on either of them. But neither made notice of that and Jason continued, “That right has been denied to you nearly all your life, and you have handled it better than most. I know that I cannot bring your father back or even right the wrongs that have been dealt to you, but you deserve this,” Jason attempted to articulate the thoughts in his mind, but for the first time in as long he remember he was struggling. “I don’t mean for this to be a charity, you have earned this. Constantine thinks of you a brother, as do Peter and Philip, and I think of you a son.”

Leo expressed pleasant shock at his uncle’s statements and proposal. He wasn’t sure what exactly to say, prompting Jason to smile continue speaking. “It’s a big decision, I understand. Sleep on it, and we’ll speak on it again in the morning.”

“You do me great honor, but I don’t need to think on it. Of course I accept,” Leo looked up from the glass in his lap. “I remember little of my own father, people speak fondly of him. They say he was a good, respectable man, a man of honor. Then he died. You took us in, accepted us when most everyone snickered about us behind our backs.”

Jason smiled and looked to Leo. “I’m glad to hear it,” he said to Leo before the two would exchange a few more words until their conversation came to a close, and the two shared a quick embrace before Leo exited the room. “I’ll see you at dinner,” Jason added as Leo smiled and exited the room, leaving Jason alone and quickly finding his way to one of the couches in a small annex of his office for a quick rest.

Lying down for nearly ten minutes, Jason heard a knock at the door. But the Emperor continued to rest with his eyes close, choosing to ignore the knocking, believing if it was important enough someone would have barged in already or tried to phone him.

He heard another knock, but this time a voice called out to him. “Father,” he heard in unison. Then once again it called out, “Father,” before he heard the crack of the door open and footsteps from what sounded like a large figure enter.

Jason slowly rose from his rest, softly rubbing his eyes before finally reaching his feet. He remained in the small annex - which overlooked the river - for sometime. “Father?” he heard it again, but the voice was quieter now, almost deceitfully quiet. The Emperor carefully made his way to the door of the annex, and peered into his office out of curiosity; it was his son Michael. Initially he thought about simply entering, but instead he decided to remain back and observe. His son knew he wasn’t allowed in the office unless he had been invited in, Jason knew the boy wasn’t a fool, so he watched as his son looked around the office. The Prince picked up a pillow off of a couch near the Emperor’s desk, squeezing it and then placing it back where he had found it just as quickly.

Michael approached his father’s desk, at first noticing the two glasses that were shared between the Emperor and Leo only twenty minutes or so ago. Jason continued looking through the opening in the door, now witnessing his son beginning to rifle through some of the desk drawers while sitting in the chair. Enough of this, Jason thought. He walked as silently as he could out of the annex and into the office. “Michael,” he said rather wearisome.

“Father...I pray I haven’t disturbed you,” the Prince offered a smile in hopes that his snooping wasn’t noticed and stepped around to the front of the desk near his father. “You wished to see me? I noticed Lord Gentry stepping out not all that long ago. I wonder what was so important that you needed to see him before your own son?” he continued in a nervous ramble.

“I’ve been doing a great deal of thinking as of late. Many long nights,” Jason stood from the couch and slowly strutted towards his desk, though eventually moving toward his son. “Succession has been finalized…”

Michael stood upon hearing those words, sprouting a genuine smile. “Are you ready to do what is asked?” the Emperor continued, his son’s smile growing ever larger at the thought of hearing what he had dreamt about for all his life.

“Yes, father.”

Jason stretched his arm forward and placed it on his son’s shoulder. “You will not be emperor.”

“…Constantine…” he mumbled almost incoherently, his face quickly fading from the prideful smile into a painful frown of bewilderment.

“I will be announcing Constantine as my heir and junior emperor at the next calends. My powers will fully pass to him after I die,” Jason told him, causing his son to shrug the hand off of his shoulder. “You are disappointed?” he rashly added after sensing his son’s growing discomfort.

“Disappointed?” Michael immediately questioned in a raised voice. “Disappointed doesn’t begin to describe how I feel,” the Prince began to sniffle slightly, causing his father to take a step back from him. The boy took a deep breath, as his mother often instructed him to do when he felt like his rage was growing within him. “…What is my place? Second in line I imagine, Constantine’s heir.”

It pained the Emperor to see his son so distraught, even more so knowing what he had to say next. “…You are my son, and you will receive a proper Imperial peerage, lands and titles once you marry that suits someone of that standing,” however he neglected to mention leaving his son out of succession, not sure he’d be able to actually tell him. “I don’t mean to punish you, Michael,” he reached his hand to touch his son’s face, Michael pulling back and turning away.

Michael balled his hand up into a fist, slowly opening and closing it repeatedly, though closing it more slowly and with more force each time. “You just stole from me the only thing I’ve ever wanted, the one thing I’ve worked for my entire life, and all you have to say is that it’s not to punish me? Mother was absolutely right about you,” more tears began to slowly move down to his cheeks.

“Ah,” Jason lightly moaned, giving his son a bit more space for the time being.

“What did she do to you? That we did to deserve the hate you show us?” the Prince began. “Mother has told me everything, about the all whores you’d bring to your chambers, the late nights you would spend ‘working’, about all the pain you’ve dealt her…about the last whore. I know about every single one of them, father,” he finished, speaking of course about Jason’s third and current wife, Marsella.

“I know I didn’t treat her fairly...or a way that any man should another. For that I’m sorry,” Jason attempted to ease his son’s suffering.

“You never loved her, you never loved me and you only pretend love Constantine and Selene because they grovel and acquiesce to your demands. All you love is Maria because of who her mother is…”

“That couldn’t be further from the truth,” the Emperor interjected, though the Prince continued with his tantrum.

“You treat the bastard more like a son than you do me,” Michael didn’t stop speaking through his tears, anguish and disappointment. “The bastard! For all the shame he and his whore of a mother brought to our family, and you welcomed them with open arms, no matter their betrayal. These barbaric Ghantish people mean to tear down everything and you love them more than your own son, more than you ever did my mother who was your wife! You, in all your weakness, allowed a Ghantish whore to tear apart our family and our country.”

Jason tried to interrupt his son, but the boy’s anger wouldn’t cease.

“Everything they touch they destroy, and you value their whores and their bastards more than you do your own family, own children and country. They are a plague! And a plague should be annihilated!”

“Enough!” Jason finally broke and shouted at his son so loud it likely echoed throughout the halls. “You may be my son, but there is only so much I will tolerate. This behavior is absolutely inexcusable for a man of your standing…only confirming my decision to not only not name you heir but to leave you out of succession entirely was,” he furiously extended his arm towards the door, “Leave at once, we are done here. And don’t bother coming to dinner unless you can learn to behave like a prince should between now and then.”

Michael wiped a tear from his face and turned to face the door. “All I ever wanted was to make you proud, to live up to you…all that you have accomplished in your reign. That ambition has always driven me to excel…to hopefully one day prove to you I would be a worthy successor.” By now the boy was standing at the foot of one of the couches, two pillows resting on it directly to his right – his eyes quickly wandering to them as he stood still in silence waiting to hear his father’s footsteps approach.

Just as Michael had expected, his father walked up behind him, however so cautiously. Again he placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Go cool off and don’t let this happen again.”

The boy’s fingertips brushed against the armrest of the couch; every word his father continued to speak to him caused his rage to grow more and more. He knew what he wanted to do, what he felt should be done to secure his dream, but as much as he wanted it he wasn’t sure. After a few seconds of silence, he turned to face his father once more. “I’m sorry, father,” he told the Emperor with a great sorrow, them immediately pushed the Emperor onto his back and the floor with all of his might and just as swiftly reached for one of the many pillows. The young prince forced the pillow onto his father’s face, which the Emperor fought with all the might he could to try and escape.

Though Emperor struggled to break free from the hold of his much larger and stronger son, desperately swinging his arms, and fists widely to try and land a blow that would cause the boy to lose his grip. But he never would; the best he managed was to strike the prince in the face – the ring on his hand breaking the skin on his son’s smooth face. Michael cried and moaned as a child would as he held the pillow down on his father, and after a number of minutes that felt like an eternity to the boy, his father ceased his struggling and Michael released the pillow and fell back in all of his tears.

Once he had finished, Michael started towards the exit before stopping. He turned and looked at the lifeless body of his father, then went about situating his father’s body onto one of the couches, resting his father’s head on a pillow and placing a book in his hand, though rested against his chest. But the scene didn’t look complete to him. Michael searched the large wooden desk, remembering that he had found a bottle of sleeping pills earlier. Before leaving the room for the last time, he placed the bottle of pills onto the nearest table to his father’s body with the cap off, finally removing the blood covered Imperial Ring from his father’s finger and sliding it on his own. And after twenty-six years, the reign of Jason VI Augustus ended.

[Lacus Magni]

Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba
11 September 2016
(With Empress Marsella written by Ghant)

“I wonder where father is?” Princess Olivia said aloud to whoever was willing to respond. “He’s usually one of the first here.” The youngest daughter of Jason Augustus and his current wife Marsella, the thirteen year-old wore a cream colored dress that contrasted with her long dark brown hair and tanned skin. Seated to her left was one of her elder sisters Selene, who paid no mind to the question. The Family Dining Hall was filled with seats for all eight of Jason Augustus’ children, his wife, mother, sister and her three children. At present, Prince Peter was the only of the Emperor’s sons to be seated, with his twin sister Polyxena seated to his immediate right. Further down the table was a seat for their Grandmother Diana, Aunt Isabella and her children, all of whom were seated except the elder Diana and Leo.

Princess Maria, the oldest of Jason Augustus’ children was the first to answer her younger sister’s question as everyone else ignored it or simply didn’t hear. “I’m sure he’ll walk in with Grandmother.”

The others talked amongst themselves as they waited for everyone else to filter in and find their seats. Peter answered questions from his aunt about his first season of junior hockey and what it was like for him to be away from home for so long. Selene went on to gossip with her cousin Theodora, while Theodora’s sister Diana fooled around with her five year old cousin Prince Philip. After a few minutes, Prince Constantine entered with cousin Leo and their grandmother Diana Augusta.

“Mother, they’ve placed you next to me,” Isabella said to the elder Diana when she entered with a smile. She stood up and helped her mother to her seat. Though accepting the assistance, Diana had a look on her face that showed she could handle it herself.

Previously convinced that Maria knew their father would enter with their Grandmother, Olivia again asked where their father was. “Avia,” she smiled to the elderly Diana, now eighty-six years old, “have you seen father yet?”

“At least say hello before you start pestering her,” Maria whispered to Olivia.

“Your father? My, I don’t think I’ve seen him all day, sweetheart. Now get over here and give your Avia a hug,” the elder Diana teased Olivia, who promptly did as she was told.

“I spoke with him maybe an hour or so ago,” Constantine rose his voice from near the head of the table. “He said he had some important things to take care of still. I don’t think he’ll be long, Liv.”

The group continued to mingle for a matter of minutes before a single Praetorian slide into the room. He was uniformed yet not a familiar face to any one of them, and appeared to be a no more than private or other lowly ranked member. Even still he approached the Empress Marsella and leaned down to her ear level. “Your Majesty, the Emperor requires your presence at once. He says it’s very urgent.”

The Latin Empress had been quiet most of the day, focusing on lunch and in pleasing her mother-in-law, a woman that she always felt some need to impress, even though she probably didn’t need to. All the same, the burden was on Marsella as the third wife of the Emperor to appear worthy of the title, for she was aware of the perceptions of some that she was just an upjumped, opportunistic whore. “Thank you sir, I will see him at once,” she replied to the Praetorian before rising from her chair. “If you would excuse me. I will return shortly.”

“Allow me to escort you, Domina,” the guard offered. Once she consented, the Praetorian led the Empress through the Palace in a most unusual fashion. He led her past various studies, atriums, and even bedrooms; then eventually out of the residence, only to turn a corner and re-enter the residence where he finally stopped at the Chapel of Saint Pelagius the Martyr.

He opened the door of the chapel for the Empress, revealing a dark, dusty look about it and an even worse musty smell. If one was to step foot into the room, they might stumble on the uneven stone floor were it not for the meager moonlight that peered straight through to the far wall. The center was flanked by four rows of pews on each side draped in cloth, leading straight from the entrance to the altar. Stepping closer, a figure became visible, kneeling before the altar.

“Do you know how old it is? The chapel,” he stood up.

Marsella stepped into the room and walked towards the altar, careful to have the hem of her blue dress lifted so it didn’t get dirty or caught on anything. “I do not,” she answered, straining her neck to see who was speaking. It wasn’t Jason, anyway. “Where is the Emperor?”

“It’s older than the Palace itself,” Prince Michael walked through moonlight, highlighting his face that held a steady look as his right hand shook slightly. He continued to walk closer to Marsella but stopped as the light hit him while his right hand rested on the front row of pews. “ Oh this history in this place! I suspect that’s why father simply sealed it shut for all those years instead of destroying it. He could be oddly sentimental like that, don’t you agree?”

“Aye, I would,” she answered him cautiously. “Such a place is truly worthy of admiration. Where is your father? He’s here, is he not?”

Michael looked to his watch on his left hand. “Surely he’s around here somewhere. He must be,” Michael said with a hint of sarcasm as he began tapping his hand on the wooden pew making a clacking sound from the ring he now wore on his finger.

Marsella was beginning to feel as though something wasn’t right. “The Praetorian that came to me told me that the Emperor wished to see me. This is where he brought me.” Looking around the empty room, she called out, “Jason...Jason…”

“Oh no, I jest. He brought you to the Emperor, don’t be afraid,” Michael grinned and began to close the gap between him and Marsella. “What do you think of my ring, does it suit me?” he asked as a noise grew from behind the door of the chapel.

There were a lot of things running through Marsella’s mind just then, but mostly terror and suspense. “Where is your father, Michael?”

Michael looked her up and down, savoring her fear, and then looked at his watch another time. “My great father has passed away I’m afraid. Lord Commander Mavrozomes of the Scholae informed me not long before you entered,” he told her as the chapel door creaked open and the Lord Commander walked in with no more than four more of his officers. “Please don’t be frightened.”

Marsella had to fight back the fear and avoid crying, though she did suddenly feel weak in the news. “No...how is that possible? He was fine this morning! Is this some kind of sick game, Michael? Your father loves you. You shouldn’t make jokes about such things.”

“Aye, I’m sure he loved me,” Michael dipped his head down as if he was sad. “But this is a serious matter, is it not Lord Commander? The plans for succession must take place, no matter our sorrow.”

“Yes, sir,” the Lord Commander stated without taking his eyes off of the Empress. On of his officers found a nearby light and flipped it on, showing that they were armed and prepared for a fight to take place. Michael went to cover the ring on his hand hoping to conceal any dried blood that may have remained on the ring or his hand.

Marsella stiffened her back. “If your father is dead, then your brother Constantine is Emperor. He is the eldest son, and you the second. That’s the proper order of things, Michael.” she looked around the room at the other men present. “And the rest of you here, in this room. Will you not uphold your duties and observe proper protocol?”

“Don’t dare lecture me on the proper order of things!” the Prince shouted at Marsella so loudly that it rang through the chapel. Meanwhile the Lord Commander and his four officers hardly acknowledged that Marsella had even spoken to them. “A woman who sleeps with a married man and destroys a family has no room to talk on the proper order of things. Besides, you know as well as I that the line may be subject to...changes.”

“I’ve made mistakes, Michael,” Marsella told him somberly. “We all have. I’ve tried my best to atone for those mistakes and to do right by you and your brother and sisters. I know that your father cared a great deal for you, as do I. I’ve never treated you any different from any of my children, and you know that,” she said, teary eyed. “Constantine is the eldest son, and I know your father intended on naming him his successor. I also know that he planned on informing you of his decision…” Marsella gasped and covered her mouth, only then realizing what most likely transpired. It was after that realization that Marsella turned to run.

Two of the officers quickly went to stand in front of the door to prevent an escape, while Lord Commander Mavrozomes grabbed the Empress by the arm. “Please don’t run, my Lady,” Michael smiled. “We’re not done here just yet.”

“Let go of me at once,” she commanded of the Lord Commander after he grabbed her arm. She tried to pull away from him. “On the contrary Michael, I’ve heard enough. Now if you will excuse me…”

Mavrozomes continued to hold her arm and even tightened his hold on her. “Don’t do that again. It will only make things harder for you,” Michael walked right up to her. “Now this is what will happen, you announce that my father has died by whatever the doctors determine was the cause of death. Then you join my supporters in declaring me Emperor. That’s all I ask, see not so bad is it?”

Marsella snorted at that. “I will do no such thing! You killed him, didn’t you? How could you do such a thing? And the lot of you are traitors, betrayers of your country! Are you proud of yourselves? Emperor Leo would have had the likes of you scourged. As for you, Michael, you call yourself Emperor? You are behaving like the farthest thing from it. Your father told me he was leaving you out of the succession entirely, because he saw something vile in you. I didn’t see it...fool that I was, because I treated you like my own son and saw the best in you. And this is how you repay me? With treachery and deceit? Do what you will with me, Michael. I’d rather die than play any part in your usurpation, wrought in your father’s own blood by your very own hands!”

“Don’t talk to them, only I talk to them. Speak to them again and much worse will come,” Michael told her giving a nod to Mavrozomes who then slapped her across the face. “I will repay you with what you deserve, Marsella. And you will play a part, because while you may not care for your own life, I know you care deeply for others nearby. As we speak, the Lord Commander’s men are entering the Palace. It won’t be long until everything is under my control. So play the part I’ve asked or those you love will suffer severe consequences,” he grabbed her hand and gave it a playful pat as a commotion grew louder behind the barred door. “Do what I’ve asked and you may return home to Ghant in one piece. I can be merciful.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she shook her head in defiance. “No good Latin would follow a man who murders his own family. You’ll be cast down soon enough, Michael. I will pray for you, that you don’t end up in the deepest of the nine hells.”

“Again,” Michael nodded to Mavrozomes who struck Marsella in the stomach as the sounds beyond the door grew louder. “Pray to your gods and your trees all you like, they can’t hear you. Have your way with her if you’d like. She’s no use to me...who would have guessed the honor of a whore,” he said to the Scholae Palatinae officers. “And what in the hell is going on out there!”

Among the Scholae officers in the chapel, only one remained near the door while Mavrozomes threw Marsella to the ground and the others moved to surround her. It wasn’t until one went to grab her by the hair that the door flung open and revealed Marsella’s cousin, Deputy Praetorian Prefect Leon Euforbenos with three other Praetorians rushing into the room.

“The Emperor!” Euforbenos shouted before even processing what was taking place in the chapel. “Marsella...what’s going on here?” he added, placing his hand on the pistol secured to his hip as his fellow Praetorians also did - with the Scholae Palatinae officers giving room.

“Help me Leon! They are assaulting me!” Marsella cried out from the ground. That was all she could muster the strength to say.

Deputy Prefect Euforbenos immediately drew his firearm, as did the Praetorians with him. “Let the Empress be and surrender at once,” he said before noticing Lord Commander Mavrozomes. “...Lord Commander?”

“Shoot them!” Michael shouted fearing he was losing control of the situation. “Kill them all now.”

Euforbenos fired his gun, hitting one of the Scholae in the shoulder, then he rushed forward to help Marsella out of harm’s way while each man went to find cover and shoot back. He moved to help her up, but was immediately shot in the leg causing him to stumble. “Go,” he shouted to his Praetorians in cover. “Get her to safety, go now.”

One Praetorian moved from cover to draw fire on the Scholae officers while another would help Marsella exit the room as safely as possible. “Your Majesty, this way at once,” the Praetorian said to the Empress while Leon and the others continued to exchange gun fire. “We need to get you to the family.”

Marsella seized her opportunity and got up in a swift motion before practically flying across the room in her attempt to escape back to the feast hall. “Thank you,” she said to Leon and the others, sad that she wasn’t likely to see him again, though grateful that he saved her life and those of her children.

The two ran through the palace towards safety, the Praetorian speaking on his radio system throughout. “Back up needed in Pelagius Chapel,” he said short of breath as the gunfire ceased in the background and then there were two separate shots following. “Secured Hummingbird, please advise.”

“This is Santella,” the Praetorians comlink sounded off. “Deliver to three.”

“Over,” the Praetorian responded. “Come. Third floor, Domina. We’re nearly there.” As the pair neared the first flight of stairs they came upon, rushing footsteps were heard coming from the hallway around the corner. “Quickly, up the stairs,” he whispered, loading a new clip into his pistol. He took a deep breath after the rush up the steps and waited for the footsteps to dissipate before continuing up to meet Prefect Santella.

Marsella was never far behind, and certainly hadn’t grown exasperated yet. She was motivated by a desire to be reunited with her children and stepchildren in order to secure their safety. “Where are the children?” she asked as she followed up the stairs.

“With the Prefect on the third floor if God be good, Your Majesty,” the Praetorian whispered. Once he felt that it was safe, he led her up to the third floor and the Grand Apartment of Theophylactus.

The third floor was full of Praetorians who were suiting up in whatever riot gear, armor, and heavy weaponry they had available to them. A guard ordered the pair to halt when Marsella’s escort came to his vision, but he soon allowed them passage and saluted the Empress. Walking towards the Grand Apartment, nearly all the guards stopped what they were doing to salute Marsella and eventually they came upon Praetorian Prefect Santella.

“Your Majesty, I’m glad to see you safe,” Santella saluted her as he welcomed her into the room, his face showing a sign of relief.

“Thank you, Prefect,” Marsella said with gratitude. “Are the children safe?”

“Everyone is accounted: the children, Her Majesty Diana, and the Princess Isabella and her children... though the Princess Selene and Princess Theodora were lost in the confusion. I have all the men I can muster to begin a search for them. Please, this way,” he showed Marsella into the room where Constantine paced back and forth talking with Leo; while the other children were crying with Diana the elder and Princess Maria trying to console them and Princess Isabella holding her own daughter Diana the younger - the two worrying about Theodora.

Diana Augusta stood when she noticed Marsella. “Thank goodness you’re safe,” the former Empress went to hug her daughter-in-law, while Constantine approached as well. “Where is Michael, is he alright?”

Marsella took a deep breath and then exhaled thoroughly. “No. Michael has lost his mind. He summoned me to attend him in the chapel, where he said he seized the throne, told me that Jason is dead and that if I didn’t acknowledge his claim, he would hurt me and my children.” Marsella wanted to cry, but knew she had to be strong for her family. “I believe that Michael had a hand in Jason’s death. Mavrozomes is supporting him, and was present in the chapel. He assaulted me, and if it wasn’t for my cousin Leon, I suspect he and his men would have brutalized me.”

The elder Diana covered her mouth with her hands and looked to her grandson, Constantine. “...he was always difficult, but killing his own father. I don’t believe it,” Diana said in shock, thinking back to the war when she was only a young girl.

“How many men can we spare, Prefect Santella?” Constantine asked the Praetorian commander once he was able to overcome the horror that his brother may have killed their father.

The Prefect shook his head. “Perhaps fifty at most. We don’t know the level of resistance below, especially if the account of Mavrozomes’ presence is true. I’ll need the bulk of what I have to protect you and see to a safe escape should it come to that.”

“Send them to find my sister and cousin immediately,” Constantine ordered with an authoritative tone, with footsteps rumbling outside the room as the fifty Praetorians began to move down for their search. “What did he say, Marsella? What did he tell you?”

“He said that he’s Emperor now and that I must acknowledge him,” she tried to recall. “He has your father’s ring on his hand already.” Dabbing at her eyes, she added that “Michael said I ruined your family and all manner of other things I dare not repeat.”

A ring of gunfire was heard before Constantine could say anything, causing most of the Imperial Family to duck quickly, even though the young Prince Philip ran over to his mother. But first Constantine turned to Leo and whispered. “He has the Scholae, you’re sure? How many men do they have near the city, Prefect?”

“Nearly twelve thousand, perhaps more if this was planned. More than enough to overwhelm the palace.”

“Constantine,” Marsella said as she embraced her son. “We need to get out of the city. Your brothers and sisters...we need to get them to safety. Especially Leo and Diana, because Michael will hurt any of them if he can,” she pleaded. “And we need to find Selene and Theodora.”

Constantine felt a weight he had never endured before - he was only twenty-two after all - and now he was entrusted with the safety of his whole family, perhaps even the country. He took a deep breath. “You’d have me retreat? I don’t want to flee, once he has the city...who knows how difficult it will be to unseat him.”

“Not you, Constantine,” Marsella clarified. “Your brothers and sisters and cousins. They shouldn’t be anywhere that Michael or his minions can harm them.”

The Prince took a deep breath, then looked to his grandmother who nodded at him. “Very well. Prefect, has there been any word on my sister and cousin?”

“My men are doing all they can to find the Princesses,” Santella interrupted as the gunfire floors below continued to be heard. “...they have the first level...too many…” rang through the Praetorian comlinks.

“We live and fight another day, Caesar,” Leo said to his cousin, earning a nervous stare from him.

“...and our means of escape, how long?” Constantine hung his head and asked, his hand shaking slightly as it rested at his side.

“We have one helicopter on the roof, another in less than five minutes,” Santella looked at his watch.

“Escort everyone to the roof. We head for...Castra Felicis,” Constantine quickly searched for a place within flight range that would be secure from the Scholae Palatinae.

“So close to the city?” Princess Maria overheard and questioned.

“Castra Felicis is a fortress, it will have to do until we secure more long term transportation,” Prefect Santella added with a nod. And he was right. Castra Felicis was a one of the largest fortified castles still in proper condition in the country, first built as a stronghold for King Felix II Augustus.

The gunfire below grew louder, with more yelling occurring in the halls. “...breached the second floor….retreat,” squeaked through on the Praetorian comlinks, causing Santella to hurry everyone to the roof. “It’s time to go.”

“We don’t have my sister or Selene yet!” Leo rose his voice, upset at the prospect of leaving anyone behind for Michael to torment, let alone his own sister.

“There’s no time, Your Highness,” Santella shouted to be heard over the gunfire echoing through the staircase and a small trickle of Praetorians retreating up those steps.

The family rushed out of the Grand Apartment, and to the auxiliary staircase which lead to the roof. It was then that the gunfire reached the third floor, with a bullet grazing past and hitting the frame of the door. Santella gave his orders and all but twenty of his remaining guards stayed behind to ensure the Imperial Family’s safe passage and hopeful escape from danger; the rest followed behind the family.

It wasn’t a long climb up to the roof, being only the next level up, but it must have felt like an eternity for the Imperial Family. On the roof waited one helicopter - the Praetorian Guard symbol and Imperial Standard of Jason Augustus visible on the sides - with another just off in the distance readying to land. By the look of things, the helicopter looked like it could seat perhaps twelve or so comfortably.”

“Grandmother, Aunt Bella, Diana, Marsella, Olivia, Poly and Philip you take the first. The rest will be Praetorians to protect you,” Constantine declared loudly to make sure he was heard through all the wind and propeller noise.

All the Praetorians knew their orders, though Santella ran to the pilot and gave him strict instructions to stop for nothing until they land at the Castra Felicis courtyard. “When you land get them locked inside. We won’t be far behind,” he yelled his instructions to the five Praetorians with them.

The helicopter lifted off to an unsteady start, causing Constantine to worry, though he tried not to show it, though to steadied out and took off for the north and its destination. Meanwhile, Leo walked to the edge of the roof for a look down below. “There must be twenty trucks or humvees down there,” he shouted to the others waiting for the next helicopter. “Heavily armed,” he said just before shouting was heard below followed by some gun fire causing him to jump back towards the group.

When the second helicopter landed, Prefect Santella asked Constantine to be the first on board. “My sister first, then my brother,” he instructed, looking out to the distance where a third helicopter was creeping on their location. Just as Constantine ordered, Santella saw to it that Princess Maria and then Prince Peter were secure on board, with Constantine and Leo quick to follow as the rooftop guards began to be pushed back from the doors by oncoming Scholae Palatinae.

Within seconds, members of the Scholae pushed through the doors and Santella jumped onto the helicopter and it took off at once. “Go go go,” he shouted as more guards rushed to the safety of the now airborne helicopter.

Constantine looked out the window to see the remaining Praetorians swarmed by an overwhelming amount of Scholae gendarmerie, though they took no prisoners and killed those that surrendered. “They killed them all,” he said sorrowfully.

“They did their duty, knowing full well what could happen,” Santella said through his heavy and exhausted breathing. “You did well to see everyone out safely, my Prince.”

“Yet my sister, cousin and even more remain left behind for who knows what fate,” Constantine stated solemnly while looking out the window to see the third helicopter sent to transport the remaining Praetorians turn around and follow the two containing the Imperial Family to Castra Felicis.

---

It is with a heavy heart that I reach out to inform the nation and the world that our Emperor, my father, Jason VI Augustus has passed away at the age of fifty-two. My great Father’s cause of death is not yet known, but as of present it is believed he passed peacefully in his sleep. Per the Curiate Assembly Reform Act of 1999 and the Judicial Reform Edict issued by my great Father in 2001, the justices of our Supreme Court will oversee the execution of my Father’s last will and testament. I shall instruct Lord Chief Justice Comitas Funar to announce my Father’s wishes and final decisions as soon as possible. In the months leading up to today, my beloved Father and I oft met to discuss the future of the State and whom he desired to hold his powers once he passed, and to that I ensure you all that there shall be no complications to arise from such an announcement.

However, not even moments after my family was informed of my great Father’s passing, my beloved brother Constantine, most likely upon the advice of the bastard and traitor Leo Gentry, elected to flee from the capital, taking with him as captives all my siblings except for my dearest and most faithful sister, the Princess Selene and my cousin Theodora Gentry, whom both managed to escape the grip of my brother and the turncoat Praetorians that aid him. It deeply pains me to see my Father’s most current wife, the Lady Marsella flee from the capital, while sending her own cousin and traitor to the Crown Leon Euforbenos to murder my sweet sister Selene and I. No doubt this was in attempt to cement my brother Peter’s claim to the throne and name him Emperor and herself as regent. Luckily, our lives were saved by the impeccable timing of Lord Commander Andronikos Mavrozomes of the Scholae Palatinae. The renegade Euforbenos, however, opted to fight to the death rather than face true justice in the courts of law.

Until such a time that my Father’s will can be read, I, Flavius Claudius Nero Michael Iohnnes Iason, will assume my late Father’s powers and hereby recall Consul Alexander Pompilius and the Senate to the capital from their recess immediately. I mourn for my Father’s untimely death, and I pray for the safety of my siblings in this trying time. I pray you do the same.

Signed
His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins

[Jedoria]

To: His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

Your Imperial Majesty,

Let me preface this letter by offering the condolences of the Confederation to not only yourself and your family, but all of the Empire. While death may be an inevitability for our race, the passing from the living to the beyond is not one that should go unnoticed, especially when it involves such men of renown such as your father.

However, recent reports out of Castellum ab Alba have caused some concern among members of my government. While I cannot comment with a great deal of knowledge on the inner workings of the Latin state, it does appear that a concerning situation has developed within the Empire. As a nation dedicated to the rule of law the Confederation cannot morally stand by while such a situation develops, however we would be fools to assume a perfect understanding of the situation in your homeland.

If possible, could more be explained regarding the ongoing situation within the capital, and the reports of fighting within the Palace of Augustus? As a nation that has recently been the victim of terrorism that took the life of our honorable Duke, we cannot in good conscience let a fellow regional neighbor undergo such violent acts without the support of our state.

I look forward to your reply,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

To: Prince Constantine XX of Latium
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

Dear Prince,


Let me preface this letter by offering the condolences of the Confederation to not only yourself and your family, but all of the Empire. While death may be an inevitability for our race, the passing from the living to the beyond is not one that should go unnoticed, especially when it involves such men of renown such as your father.

However, recent reports out of Castellum ab Alba have caused some concern among members of my government. While I cannot comment with a great deal of knowledge on the inner workings of the Latin state, it does appear that a concerning situation has developed within the Empire. It was the understanding of myself and several others within my government that it was you that was the presumed successor of your father, rather than your brother who has addressed the international community claiming to be the Emperor. Furthermore, while death can come and go as he pleased, the Latin Empire is a developed state and the age of 52 is rather young when considered passing due to natural causes.

As nation that has recently undergone the pain of the death of our most honorable Duke by terrorism, it is of great concern that there is the possibility of an insurrection within the Latin Empire, especially one from within the royal family itself. However, our knowledge of the ongoing situation is severely lacking. If possible, could you shed further light on the incident currently unfolding in your nation?

Kind Regards,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederaiton

[Lacus Magni]

Constantine
Castra Felicis, Latium
11 September 2016

It was nearly twenty minutes of flight time from the rooftop of the Palace of Augustus to the courtyard of Castra Felicis. The medieval castle sat atop a low hill, and overlooked a tributary of the River Teverone, which flowed through the capital; it was surrounded by a larger inner wall and a smaller outer wall further down the hill, with a number of towers along each.

And as the trio of helicopters flew overhead the mighty walls of the medieval fortress, it became clear that their visit was unexpected or at the very least little notice was given. Down below, a handful of Praetorian marked vehicles continued to drive though the main entrance, with the large monstrosity of a gate closing behind them.

A few minutes later the aircraft began to touch down, with what skeleton staff was around to help the Imperials out.

“Your Highness, this is a most pleasant and unexpected visit,” a dreary and out of breath castle attendant approached Constantine and the Imperial party. She was young, perhaps the same age as Princess Maria, if not a little older; she was a pretty girl with dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, and slender frame from what was visible in the dim night light. “To what do we owe the honor,” the girl added while the rest of the staff saw to the other family members.

Constantine ignored her as he helped his sister Maria from the aircraft. “...My father’s death,” he told her full of sorrow, though tried not to snap at the girl, once his sister was safely on the ground. “Can you see to it that everyone has somewhere comfortable to rest.” He knew the girl, or at the very least he’d seen her the last time he was at the castle, but couldn’t put a finger on her name.

“Of course,” she replied with a stutter due to the shocking nature of the Prince’s comment. “...Shall we prepare the Imperial apartment for you, sir,” the girl asked with an uneasiness about her.

“No,” Constantine looked over his shoulder to Santella speaking with the small garrison of Praetorians they were able to bring with them and those that had arrived from the nearest station. “My grandmother should have use of it for the short time we are here.”

The girl nodded, “I’ll see to it at once.” Constantine watched as she walked away and began to move everyone into the castle, the elderly Diana Augusta at the head of the group.

“Grandmother won’t want it,” a voice snuck up on him. It was his cousin Leo.

I don’t want it. “We won’t be here long, she needs to be somewhere comfortable for long as possible,” Constantine began breathing more heavily, the weight of the moment finally starting to hit him. “I...I should get to my room.”

He followed behind the rest of his family as they were being shown to their rooms. They walked through a large stone archway and into another courtyard leading to the great hall and its adjoining rooms between the main keep. “This way, sir,” the girl smiled to Constantine when they came to his room.

The family rarely stayed at Castra Felicis and as such his room - and likely the rooms everyone found themselves in - was bare with various staffers quickly moving about to change bedsheets and the like. Once his room was made, he entered and simply sat down. He leaned over and held his head in his hands, breathing heavily. So many thoughts ran through his head from dealing with his father’s death, to the safety of his sister and cousin, and even the horrible thought that his brother may have been the one to kill their father.

Instead he decided to take a walk, soon finding his way back in the smaller courtyard of the keep where it was surprisingly empty of people. The young prince looked up to the sky, watching as the clouds moved across the stars and moon at a leisurely pace. He continued walked around the courtyard and came upon a shovel leaning against a newly planted tree.

He looked at the tree, placing his hand on its trunk. An old tree, he thought. The Prince ran his hand down to the shovel and gripped it slowly. Holding the top of the handle, he bounced it off the trunk, looking again to the sky as he began to cry for his father. He thought of his sister, who chose to stay; his cousin Theodora, who was lost in the chaos; and he thought of his father. He was dead, perhaps at the hand of Michael, his own brother. How could this have happened, he picked up the shovel.

What should I to do, tears continued at an increasing rate. Constantine swung the shovel against the tree, feeling a sting in his hands, but he paid no mind. He swung again, and again, and again, with an increasing anger and sadness. At first his swings bounced off, but as he continued to hit the tree it began to leave its mark, bits of bark flying towards him. His face grew red with anger and the heavy breathing from taking swings at the tree, while he remained crying.

“Constantine…” the sobbing boy heard a soft feminine voice from behind him. It was his grandmother Diana, he knew by the sound of her voice. “Constantine,” she said again softly, though with a tightness in her voice, causing him to finally ease his swing against the tree.

Diana walked to him, and he to her after he dropped the shovel. “You’ll hurt yourself,” his grandmother labored to say as she went to hug the crying boy, though really he fell into her arms and she held him up. The former monarch held Constantine in her arms just like she used to when he was a child. “You need to be brave.”

“How?” Constantine muttered through his tears. “I’m afraid…”

“Do you know what your grandfather said to me the first time I said that to him? Hmm?” Diana looked to her grandson. “He told me that is the only time we can be brave. Lord knows where he first heard it, but he was right then and he’s right still.”

Constantine was silent after Diana spoke to him, thinking on the words. He finally composed himself, as best he could, and pulled himself out from his grandmother’s embrace with a nod in acknowledgement of her advice. He had only been a toddler when his grandfather died, but everything he had heard about him was that he was honorable, just, a fierce warrior, but most of all a hard man.

“He’d kill them all...wouldn’t he? He’d know what to do” Constantine looked nervous, but tried to cover it with a facade of strength. “I’ll do the same.”

“Perhaps he would, perhaps not. Violence isn’t always the answer. And he knew that,” Diana looked to her grandson. “We all have to make hard choices, Constantine. And someone will always be there to question that choice and doubt you.”

“What if we’re forced to act a certain way?” he asked, recalling that he’d seen it in his grandfather’s old written notes. “What if the choice is no choice at all?”

“It’s not fair, I know. You share the same burden your grandfather and I felt many many years ago. Duty thrust him towards a difficult decision and I accepted that decision,” the elderly women explained to him with a hint of a smile. “You will do what is right, I know you will.”

The more he thought about tonight, the more it began to make sense. Marsella was in shock, he thought, but there was still truth to her story - even if he doubted his brother’s role in their father’s death. “Do you think Michael actually…?”

“I don’t know,” his grandmother looked conflicted with her answer, when another approached the pair from the main courtyard.

“Excuse me My...Your Majesty,” the same girl who had shown the Imperial Family to their rooms or other comfortable areas stood at the entrance of the yard.

“Sweet girl, I’m speaking with my grandson,” Diana snapped at the poor girl, somewhat uncharacteristically.

The girl stood awkwardly, not moving an inch, with her jaw open. “I...uh, Prefect Santella says it’s urgent ma’am. He says it requires your attention at once, my Prince,” she directed to Constantine.

Constantine nodded. “It’s alright, grandmother,” he then followed the girl, along with Diana Augusta, to see the Praetorian Prefect. After walking out of the courtyard and into a large hall, the two Imperials followed the girl up a winding staircase to the room where Santella was speaking with three of his subordinate officers that had recently arrived from their surrounding bases.

They all stood when Constantine entered the room. “Would you please send for my cousin Leo,” he said to the girl before she smiled and walked away. “Please sit. What news do we have?”

“Sir, the news,” Santella sat and began speaking. “They’re reporting the gun fire and of all the commotion at the palace.”

“I’m afraid we don’t have much time left if we are to remain here. We’re far too close to the capital and hostile forces to stay safe,” an officer Constantine hadn’t seen before interrupted.

“That’s not all. Legate Vonones here,” Santella pointed to his officer, “brings us news that Michael has been very busy. He’s recalled the Senate back from recess, though Pompilius being the craven he is, we’re not sure how amenable he will be to such an order. He also...sent word to the Praetorian garrisons of their new orders, however, the chain of command and succession protocol being what it is, such an order won’t be followed.”

Michael may have had a role in all this, Constantine thought as he took one of the empty seats around the table. “Not all bad news, at least as bad as I expected. Any word on the whereabouts of my mother?”

“None, sir,” Santella told him before the others chimed in.

“And Her Majesty’s statement...that Prince Michael killed had a role in your father’s death. We need to get that story out there,” Legate Vonones added. “He chased the rightful heir from the city and committed regicide.”

“After tonight...if the first thing out of my mouth is of how my brother killed his father, tried to kill the Empress and failed at killing me...it will look no more than I’m making up stories to discredit him,” Constantine added to the discussion. “No matter the validity, no one will believe it, and I will look the part of a fool.”

“It must be true,” Prefect Santella stated. “I’ve never known the Empress to lie over something so egregious.”

“What if we sprinkle the story around,” Legate Amatius began to explain. “It might appear sour grapes coming him His Highness, but if the people begin to speak it amongst themselves...well if may just become the truth.”

“Any word of my sister?” Leo finally found his way into the room, with Princess Maria running in right after.

“None, Your Highness,” Legate Vonones replied to Leo, though only standing when Maria entered.

“We need to get her back. Her...and Selene. We can’t just sit here and wait for something good to just happen,” Leo added.

“Selene chose to stay,” Constantine blurted out. No one had known that except for him until now, and even he couldn’t understand why she would choose to do so.

“What, why?” Leo said confused.

“It makes no matter. We need to get away from the city and regroup,” Santella jumped in before Constantine had a chance to explain that she thought she could talk Michael down. “I am sorry that your sister was lost in the chaos, truly. But if we don’t move further away from Castellum, we will be trapped and if that happens, I fear that far worse will happen to those of us here.”

“Getting to safety means nothing if we are forced to continue to flee and leave loved ones in continued danger,” Leo rose his voice.

“We should go to Ghant,” his sister Maria suggested. “Michael won’t ever be able to reach us there, it’s so very far away and Nathan is one of my oldest friends. I know he would help keep us safe.”

“Sir, I cannot condone such a move,” Santella added. “Your father didn’t trust Emperor Nathan, he never has. Not to mention fleeing to Ghant means conceding the country to Michael and allowing the Imperial Family to be held hostage and potentially used as a bargaining chip in some sick game.”

“Careful Prefect. Nathan is my brother, he would never betray…” Leo warned Santella before he was interrupted by the same man.

“Half-brother,” the Prefect corrected Leo, which drew an angry stare from the boy.

“Enough!” Constantine slammed a hand down on the table before him to gain control of the room. “We can’t fight a war amongst ourselves and I have no intention of turning craven and running away to a far off country across the sea!”

Santella quickly apologized, even though Constantine knew the man was a dear friend to his father and that he only meant the best for the family. Leo still looked angry, however much he tried to hide it.

“Where is the largest concentration of Praetorian stations?” Constantine asked, while also thinking to himself. Olympia perhaps. Maybe even Ravenna if not Adrianople.

The Prefect looked to the two Legates in the room before he gave an answer. “Adrianople most like,” Legate Vonones gave reply first. “Perhaps more if we begin issuing a withdraw from current stations to a single locale.”

“Maybe 10,000 in the county and immediate area,” Santella added for reference. “Though Legate Vonones is correct. We should begin issuing a fallback of all Praetorians to the area.”

“We’ll need more than 10,00 men,” Leo sniggered. “If tonight was any indication, Michael has the whole of the Scholae. That’s what, nearly 10 times that many. Hellas is where we should start if we want to try and match that. The Greeks are have always been loyal to your family.”

“I’m spoken with General Colias a number of times. He was friends with father as well I believe,” Constantine said of Adrianople. “And I met with the local government as recently as a week or so ago. We should start there.”

Leo stood there with his arms crossed as they all looked at a map on the table. “Let me go to Hellas, and find allies and drum up support,” he urged once more, speaking of his old friend Anna Kinnamos who just so happened to be the leader of the Greek National Party. “We have friends that can helps us.”

“What good are we if we just have the Greeks,” the third officer, Legate Amatius, who remained more or less silent until this point spoke up. “The focus should be on the Latin speaking counties and even Karchidonia.”

“Don’t underestimate the Hellenes, commander,” the elderly Diana Augusta finally spoke up. The Greeks had overwhelmingly supported Diana throughout the Social War all those years ago, clearly my grandmother thinks they will do so again. “They will support you, Constantine. I will see to it personally if I must.”

“I don’t think it’s wise you go, grandmother. It’s just no safe. And I need Leo with me,” Constantine added to the topic. “Surely there must be someone else that can go.”

“Let me go,” Leo pleaded again. “I’d be far more useful doing that than I would in Adrianople while we send someone else to do the same job.”

Constantine looked over to his grandmother. He knew that there wasn’t a way he could force her to stay away from Hellas, the same went for Leo. His cousin would be far better use looking for help in Hellas, though he knew Leo had more than one motive in traveling east. Adrianople is still our best option now, the Prince thought of all the people that would support him in Latium’s largest city.

“Having the Greeks on our side would put a great deal of pressure on your brother from the east. And if we can push from the north, I’d say he won’t stay in the capital long,” Prefect Santella argued in favor of courting the Greeks.

“Can we spare a team to go with Leo?” the young Prince asked his Prefect and Legates.

“I only need to get to Leonopolis,” Leo clarified.

“Make the proper arrangements, Prefect. Send three with him,” Constantine made his orders.

“Constantine…” Princess Maria spoke up once more in a worried tone.

The Prince sighed; he didn’t want to send her to Ghant. Vannois would have been a far more attractive option if Selene was with them. “Not to Ghish,” he told his sister.

“To Atmos then, with their family,” Diana the elder suggested. “However Diana may wish to stay in Ghish. You cannot deny the girl that.”

“To Atmos,” the boy nodded along solemnly with his grandmother’s suggestion. “But Peter will come with me to Adrianople.” he then laid out the rest of his plans, from having Santella withdraw all Praetorians from their present posts to Adrianople, Constantine planning to hold court at the ancient family estate, and readying more representatives to visit Hellas on his behalf.

When he was finished, Constantine dismissed them all to see through their plans. He gave his sister Maria a light kiss on her forehead, unsure of when he would see her again. “Should you see The Princess Anastasia,” he told her, “tell her that I’m thinking of her and I pray for the day I see her again.”

Eventually he made his way back to his room, telling his grandmother she should go to Hellas if she thinks it would be best just before he walked in his room. He said he would be willing to make any arrangements that were needed.

Upon entering his room he saw the bed finally made, a small note left on the pillow. He walked to the bed to pick it up, but heard a knock before he could grab it. Opening the door he found Prefect Santella, whom he let in, though saw the young castle attendant walking the opposite way down the hall.

Constantine and the Prefect shared brief pleasantries for a moment before Santella turned the conversation to a more serious discussion. “Do you know if the Empress has your Father’s will?” he asked Constantine. “If she had it then things would end much more swiftly.”

“I doubt it,” Constantine took a moment to think about it. “The only legitimate copy would be somewhere in Castellum. And unless something has changed we can’t just walk in and grab it,” he added, referring to the Supreme Court’s role in the process of certifying an Emperor’s will.

“My Lord, I’m sorry I couldn’t do more...your father was my friend and I failed him; I failed you and your family. I swear I will do everything in my power to see you seated on the throne. You are the heir by rights and all the laws, it was his wish.”

Constantine felt a lump in his throat and took a nervous swallow. “...Is there anyway to prove what Marsella claims? That he killed my Father?”

“I found your father lying on the couch in his office. On the table next to him was a bottle of sleeping pills, it was opened and pills were spilled out around the table. You know your father had been having trouble sleeping, but most did not,” Santella began to explain how he last saw Jason Augustus. “He had his vices, but all the years I known him he was never one to abuse medication. We need the security footage to his office, and to get that we’d need to be in the Palace or one of the Praetorian stations.”

Before hearing the scene from Prefect Santella Constantine wasn’t sure if his brother killed their father, but now he was beginning to feel it was the truth.

[Lacus Magni]

Selene
Palace of Augustus
12 September 2016

The Palace was much more bleak than it had been just hours ago, but Princess Selene tried her best to not let it get to her. She thought back to last night when Prefect Santella rushed into the main dining hall to privately tell Constantine what happened to their father or so she assumed. Well that’s what would have happened, Selene thought while she peered into her closet for a dress to wear today. “Wear the blue one grandma Lyanna gave you for your birthday last month. The one with the little flower pattern,” she recalled Michael telling her only an hour ago, “I need you looking your best.”

As she continued through her closet she pulled out a set of matching shoes and accessories that were required for her dress. She kept thinking of last night, when the Prefect entered the room it was only a few seconds later that they all heard a loud banging on the door, and then screaming. “The Emperor is dead!” a voice shouted from behind that dining hall door last night. She heard gunshots and footsteps after that. After the Prefect told them they had the area secure, he rushed the whole family out of the room, with Selene one of the last out. No one even noticed their cousin Theodora was missing until they were near the Grand Apartment of Theophylactus on the floor above.

“Let me go find her,” she pleaded with Constantine at the final steps of the third floor last night. Of course he instantly objected, but Selene convinced him that Michael would never harm her, I hope not at least. Selene took her time getting ready for the day, hoping every minute more she spent in her room was one less she had to put on a happy face for everyone who left at court. Eventually she slid into her dress that fit to her form, and called one of her maids to zip it for her - she always had trouble doing that part. It was just the dress her brother asked her to wear; blue with subtle floral patterning and sleeveless, falling just above her knees.

When she began to put her shoes on, she decided that she didn’t want to wear them, electing to wear a different pair and then going through that process at least another four times before finally settling with the first pair of black heels she had initially. She sipped them on, then stood and looked in the mirror; she thought of her Father, both older brothers and other siblings, Theodora, her boyfriend the Dauphin Audric of Vannois, and even cousin Leo - that last of which was surprising to her. She missed them all. Before leaving the room, she found a crucifix necklace to wear, topping off her ensemble.

Much to her surprise, there were two guards standing on the left and right sides of her door outside. They weren’t Praetorians, but wore the crossed swords impaled by a lightning bolt of the Scholae Palatinae. “I hope we didn’t frighten you, Princess,” a third approached Selene, as she jumped from the door slamming behind her. His smile made her uncomfortable. “His Majesty wished to make sure you had an escort this morning.”

His Majesty? She did her best to keep her head high and stay composed. “How kind,” Selene smiled. “But I must get going, I have some things I’d like to attend to before then.”

Before she could even turn to the right, one of the guards stepped in front of her and the third guard placed his hand on her shoulder. “Apologies, Princess. I can’t let you go that way.” He spoke softly to her, not stern as one would have expected in that situation, which made it slightly more concerning to her.

“You do not give me orders Captain...Captain Ausonius,” she paused to look for a marker of his rank and name tag. “This is my home and I will walk any which way I please. Now please get out of my way.”

Captain Ausonius looked at Selene, looked to the two guards at her door and then back to the Princess and broke out a light smile; he continued to block her way. “Court is this way, Princess,” he grabbed her by the arm.

Selene wanted to scream, she wanted to hit the guard in his big nose; but she didn’t. He still held her arm, his grip feeling tighter and tighter; the look on his face was stern, serious. She winced from his hold and cooperated, causing him to slowly release.

She began to walk the direction Ausonius instructed. He walked behind her flanked by the other two guards outside her door. Today her brother would be holding court in Ball Room, and as she walked along through the halls she felt all eyes on her.

When she entered the Ball Room, nearly all the men and women ceased conversing amongst themselves and looked to Selene. Maybe its just because I look beautiful today, she thought. Selene tried to look around the room for her brother, but all she saw were the other people standing near seats and dozens and dozens of guards standing around the room with the largest concentration near the front of the room. A few seconds later, two guards walked in carrying a closed-arm chair with purple cushions laced in gold trim, and the golden eagle of the Claudii family surrounded in a laurel wreath emblazoned on the backrest. Moments later a single guard carried a similar looking chair, though smaller, and placed it to the left of the first.

A number of lords, ladies, and various members of court approached Selene to offer their condolences for her father, while Captain Ausonius stood vigilant never very far from the Princess. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” she heard time and time again from them, the more times hearing it the more it seemed less genuine.

She saw two of her cousins - well the children of her Father’s cousin at least - at the opposite end of the hall. Selene excused herself from the individual she was speaking with and walked over to her cousins. “Selene,” each boy wore a smile when she approached them.

The two Ducal brothers, children of her Father’s cousin and former Consul Maria, Countess Rutupiae and Duchess of Vindóbona and the late Duke Christopher, looked almost the spitting image of one another, sharing a stark resemblance to her own Father. People would often talk about how much they looked like her Father, their grandmother Diana most of all. “They have the Ancia look,” Selene recalled hearing Diana comment when both boys gave their Oaths of Peerage not more than a month ago. Duke Justin of Vindóbona and Duke George of Lomvardía had earned their peerages within a month of one another; first George after the passing of their grandfather the Second Duke of Lomvardía and then Justin after the murder of their father weeks after. Selene knew just how they must have felt after all the recent death in their lives.

“How are you holding up?” George went to give the Princess a hug while Justin adjusted his tie and looked around the room.

Justin turned his attention to her eventually. “Sorry for your loss, cousin. We both loved your father dearly. If you need anything at all,” he went in to embrace her as well.

“Thank you,” Selene felt like she was going to cry. “It’s been a difficult few hours.” Should I tell them about last night? Do they already know? I shouldn’t say anything, she thought as she felt Captain Ausonius glaring at her from where ever he stood watching her now.

“I know Adrian wanted to say the same but I haven’t seen him at all since last night,” George spoke of their younger brother.

“Shh. Quiet,” Justin elbowed his brother in the ribs, causing him to wince. “What did I say...don’t.”

They heard about last night...the gun shots at least. She couldn’t think of what else they may or may not have known about the night before, but they lost their brother at some point during the night. “No, it’s alright. Adrian got lost last night?”

Before either brother could respond, the door to the front of the ball room near the largest concentration of guards. More guards filed in first, followed by the Lord Commander Mavrozomes and her brother Michael who soon found a seat in one of the lavish purple chairs.

“Sister!” Michael spoke loudly and cheerfully before all of court. “Please come join me.”

She froze momentarily, then felt a slight push against her back and she started to walk. When she approached the front of the room, Mavrozomes stepped aside Michael stood to hug his sister and help her into her seat next to him. Why is the Lord Commander of the Scholae Palatinae here? she thought for a fleeting second until she just felt relief that Captain Ausonius wasn’t lurching behind her.

“Thank you all for joining me on such a somber day,” her brother said once he was seated again. “Many of you have already offered your condolences to my family and I. And for that I am very grateful. What many of you don’t know, however, is that my dearest brother Constantine has fled the city, though not without scheming with the traitor and bastard Leo Genty and my own step-mother to abduct my innocent brothers and sisters.”

No, thats not what happened at all. They were chased away. He’s lying to you, Selene wanted to tell everyone. But she said nothing and continued listening.

Michael went on for some time about the treachery of his older brother, most often blaming his actions on their cousin Leo and Empress Marsella. He spoke about how much he loved their Father, and how much he would miss him, though not before speaking of the Praetorian betrayal. “With the actions of the Praetorian Guard last night, and the attempt against my life by former Deputy Prefect Leon Euforbenos, it is clear to me that their ranks are unfit to serve as protection for the Imperial Family. With my first act, I hereby strip Prefect John Santella of his rank, name him an enemy of the state. Furthermore, I will disband the Guard and all former members who wish to seek my forgiveness may do so. Should they not, they will also be considered enemies of the state. To fill the void, I will create a new security detail for the sovereign and his family.”

When Michael took a break from speaking, doors at the opposite end of the hall opened revealing a ten uniformed men, with several armed Scholae officers behind them. “The Manipulus Umbra shall be entrusted with the protection of the Sovereign and his family,” Michael named the ten men in the white uniforms as they began to walk down the main aisle. “They are lead by Sir Ajax Ischyrós.”

Their dress uniforms were of a similar style to the Scholae officers, though unlike Scholae and even Praetorian uniforms, the ten wore white slacks and white form-fitting coat with standing collar both having gold trim. One of the ten wore white gloves, though all wore swords at their side, likely a firearm as well. All might have been wondering why the ten of them looked different to the rest, but there was little time or care for Selene to speculate.

The further into the room they walked, the more menacing they appeared to her brother’s guests. Selene tried to get a good look at the ten to see if she recognized any one of them, but at first all she saw was the towering figure leading up the rear of the group. He has to be nearly six foot nine by her guess, an absolutely menacing individual. Hideous, she thought he was one of the ugliest men she had ever seen. The ten halted a few feet in front of Michael and Selene’s seats and faced the two briefly. That’s Leon Palaiologi-Oriundi, the Princess picked out the first she recognized. He was the son of the Doux Palaiologi, a boy Selene was infatuated with growing up despite the fact he was several years older than her. And that’s Adrian, he looked a more muscular version of his brother Justin. There was less than a year difference between he and Selene, and the two spent a great deal of time together growing up.

The new guard turned to face court, staring forward attentively, though the largest - who must have been Sir Ajax - stood to the side of Michael opposite of Lord Commander Mavrozomes. Michael continued speaking to his court ad nasum and they looked bored. “And while the search will continue for my brother and the safe return of my siblings, I will recall the Consul, Senate and the Court in an effort to see a return to business as usual as quickly as possible,” he finished before dismissing everyone.

“Is Ausonius treating you kindly?” Michael asked her as people began shuffling out of the ball room. “I had Mavrozomes personally handpick your detail.”

“Kind enough I guess,” she shrugged her shoulders and looked into her lap; she wanted to change the subject. “I thought mother would be here today...to see father or you at least.”

“To see father? God, what a stupid thing to say,” Michael snapped at Selene. “Why in the world would she ever want to do that?”

“...I don’t know. They were married once,” she said quietly, but trailing off even more towards the end. “Is she coming?”

“She’s off in Utica. Hopefully we’ll see her tomorrow.” But he was hardly paying attention, instead he looked around the room. “Wait here, Selene,” her brother kissed her on the cheek before he went off to shake hands with the few that remained in the hall.

Selene sat contently in her chair, not as if I could leave anyway, she looked around the room and observed all the guards and even Captain Ausonius standing closer now that court had been dismissed. More and more guests began to filter out and a guard approached Michael with a salute as His Majesty finished speaking with a younger woman. The guard whispered into Michael’s ear, handing him a slip of paper. Her brother just stared at the paper, He looks upset.

“What do you mean he wasn’t there?” Michael shouted at the guard, crumpling the paper and throwing it at him. “I asked for one simple thing, escort the Chief here and bring me that damned piece of paper. That’s it...how hard could it be?”

“There was no one there, Your Majesty. Not even his wife. We even checked the building...we couldn’t find it, sir,” the guard frantically explained.

“Mavrozomes!” her brother screamed out for the Lord Commander, who swiftly appeared at his side. Michael began to whisper something to the Lord Commander, but Selene couldn’t make out what he was saying, even as her brother briefly glanced her way.

Selene looked away when he brother glared at her; she looked to the paintings on the walls, out the windows and even at the chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. “Selene,” her brother startled her, as he now stood right before her, with Sir Ajax looming nearby. “I need to take care of a few things. Why don’t we meet back up for lunch?”

“That’s no problem,” Selene smiled to her brother while she rested her hands on her lap. Can he tell how nervous I am? “You better get back to it then. I can’t imagine how busy you must be right now.”

“You have no idea,” Michael let out a grin and looked across at the woman he was speaking with before his outburst. “I’ll be off to it then.”

Then her brother was gone, and left the hall with the young woman as Selene wondered who she might have been. She was able to leave the room at her own leisure, but her guard wasn’t far behind, even as she made sure to take sharp turns through the halls in effort to shake off Ausonius for even a few minutes. Finally she felt she had lost him for enough time to search out for Theodora’s room. She looked around the hallway and saw no sign of guards, then softly knocked on the door.

“Hey! Get away from there,” she heard a man shout from down the hall. “You can’t be here.”

“She’s just leaving. Isn’t that right, Princess?” Captain Ausonius finally caught up to her and grabbed her roughly by the arm. “This area is restricted, no one is allowed here. His Majesty’s orders. Come now, let’s get you back to your chambers.”

The Captain whisked Selene down a flight of stairs and Selene asked him to let her go. “You’re hurting me,” she whined at him, “please let go.” He loosened his grip on her arm, but said nothing more until they reached her room.

He opened the door for her, and saw the Princess in. “I don’t enjoy babysitting, Princess. I don’t enjoy being cruel. Nor did I sign up to reprimand you,” Ausonius told her as she rubbed her arm. “My advice, do what you’re told. At least for the near future until things become more normal.” And then he left the room and slammed the door behind him.

[Lacus Magni]

To: His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

Your Imperial Majesty,

Let me preface this letter by offering the condolences of the Confederation to not only yourself and your family, but all of the Empire. While death may be an inevitability for our race, the passing from the living to the beyond is not one that should go unnoticed, especially when it involves such men of renown such as your father.

However, recent reports out of Castellum ab Alba have caused some concern among members of my government. While I cannot comment with a great deal of knowledge on the inner workings of the Latin state, it does appear that a concerning situation has developed within the Empire. As a nation dedicated to the rule of law the Confederation cannot morally stand by while such a situation develops, however we would be fools to assume a perfect understanding of the situation in your homeland.

If possible, could more be explained regarding the ongoing situation within the capital, and the reports of fighting within the Palace of Augustus? As a nation that has recently been the victim of terrorism that took the life of our honorable Duke, we cannot in good conscience let a fellow regional neighbor undergo such violent acts without the support of our state.

I look forward to your reply,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

To: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
From: His Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
Subject: Re: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

---

Minister Rotaru,

First of all, on behalf of my family I would like to thank you for your kind words over my late Father’s untimely passing. It was something that took us all by shock, as we have been and continue to be under the impression that he was in fine health, making his death all the more difficult to understand.

In regards to your concerns over the events that took place in Castellum the previous day, I can say with the utmost certainty that it was a rare spectacle. As you have no doubt seen reported by Latin press, my dearest and beloved older brother immediately fled once we were notified of my Father’s death. By the looks of most reports - and all I can say - last night simply appears to be nothing more than a blip and a handful of members of the now disbanded Praetorian Guard attempting to assassinate myself or my sister; perhaps even meaning to seize the throne for another.

It is even most concerning due to him having my younger siblings in his custody. I promise you that the national police force, the Scholae Palatinae, under the dutiful command of Lord Commander Andronikos Mavrozomes has begun the nationwide search for their safe return to the capital and the Palace of Augustus.

While currently I am not at liberty to discuss the finer details, I can tell you that my offices have been working diligently with those of our Supreme Court to work through my Father’s will, which will officially name me his successor in the coming days.

Again, I thank you for your kind words and thoughts. I look forward to any future communications between our two nations.

God Bless,
His Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins

[Jedoria]

To: His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

Your Imperial Majesty,

Thank you good sir for the rapid reply, I'm sure given recent events that time is one commodity in short supply for a man such as yourself. However I am confident however that once proper protocol has been put in place your government will recover from this tragedy and resume it's normal operations. While understandably matters of succession and attending to matters of state take precedence, I do hold hope that your government and my own will indeed begin further cooperation between us. I realize the Empire and the Confederation have little in the way of common or shared history and culture, but I feel one the benefits of globalization is the ability to further communicate and interact beyond mere national borders.

If you see fit, your Imperial Majesty, I would hope to arrange a meeting between representatives of our governments to facilitate further connections between us. I hope that through this tragedy, your nation emerges stronger than before, as my own homeland has.

Sincerely yours,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

Strana Mechty

“Do you believe him?” Constantin Zaharia asked, the Duke of Jedoria, while he reclined in his seat behind his desk.

“Not for a moment.” Rotaru answered truthfully. “This whole affairs stinks of foul play. The premature death of a the leader, the disappearance of several individuals of note, the curfews, the protests, all of it. Seems almost eerily familiar actually...”

The Duke shook his head. “What kind of sick bastards would murder their own leader just to seize power?”

Rotaru looked up and blinked. “You mean, like we did?”

“What, wait, of course not!” Zaharia said. “Our's was...different.”

“Right. Different.” Rotaru agreed.

An awkward silence passed between the two men, remaining there until Rotaru excused himself and left the Jedorian Duke to his business.

[The Demphorian Kingdoms]

3:20 AM
12 September 2016
National Defense Council
Ormania, Demphor

Glenna Shae, Advisor to the President from the National Defense Council, walked into the 4th level of the basement of the National Defense Council’s headquarters. The electric generators could be heard faintly as she walked down the concrete steps quickly and quietly. The old light bulbs flickered as she walked down a small hallway, looking for a room with the number 6B-3 on it’s front.

She found the room and unlocked it. Entering the room, she turned on the lightswitch to find several old filing cabinets on them. She looked around and discovered the cabinet she was looking for: Latium.

Unlocking the cabinet, she peered through each folder to read the top label. She finally discovered the folder. Confidential: Situation of Rebellion in Latium.

She grabbed the folder and walked back up the steps to her office. Now on the ground level, she closed the door and sat in her office. She opened the large, manilla folder, which still brandished the Seal of the Confederation and the date the plan was authorized. “Authorized by the General Staff 16 June 1997”.

She opened the folder and began to read the simulations. Communist insurgents, terrorist attacks and conventional civil conflicts. After eliminating it to conventional civil conflicts, she opened the report.

”A concentration of Demphorian forces required to land depends on the geographic location of Demphor’s opponent in the region. Conventional landings will be required with the seizing of a port being the top priority.”

Shae closed the folder and put it in her briefcase. She had a briefing with the Cabinet in 20 minutes.

---

3:45 AM
12 September 2016
Emergency Meeting of His Majesty’s Government
Ormania, Demphor

“Thank you all for coming,” said President John Winsdor, walking into the assembled Cabinet meeting. “I know that it’s early, but the NDC has an emergency briefing from a situation in Latium.”

The cabinet gave a quiet murmur as Advisor Shae stood up and took her place at the front of the room.

“Thank you everyone. The Demphorian Embassy in Castellum ab Alba reported 3 hours ago that O.S.S. operatives reported gunfire in the Imperial Palace last night. Afterwards, Prince Michael declared that his father was dead and that he would succeed as Emperor of the Latins. We refuse to consider that Michael deposed the Emperor in a coup, but the lack of comments on the matter is quite alarming. Our analysis is that two theories would have been possible, first, that the Emperor died of natural causes as according to Michael’s statement, or possibly a coup d’état may have been possible, in which Michael organized members of the Praetorians to assassinate the Emperor.”

“The second theory is highly destabilizing to the region,” murmured Interior Secretary Mainchín.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Winsdor interjected, “I want first reactions here. If there was indeed a coup in the country, what are we looking at?”

“Mr. President,” said Secretary of State Sylvester Dermot, “if we decide to permit a coup in any country to be solidified within our hemisphere, the diplomatic consequences would be large, especially with an ally such as the Latins.”

The Defense Secretary then spoke, “We would have to rethink our foreign policy initiatives in that region and may even have to initiate protocols in the event the Latins do take a more hostile line. We haven’t even considered the consequences if we include the involvement of foreign countries, such as the Akai, New Edom, the Romans...”

“It would seem ridiculous for the Edomites to overthrow the government in Latium, it wouldn’t concern them,” Winsdor said, “the Romans have not made any aggressive diplomatic moves in the recent years, and the Akai, well that’s a logical interjector.”

“If the Akai go unchecked in Latium in securing a friend, it would only make the aggressor more aggressive. The Akai would not be afraid act within the northern hemisphere again.”

“It could be a repeat of 1972,” said Health Secretary Moore.

“She’s absolutely right,” Winsdor said, agreeing with Secretary Moore. “Like it or not, we do have to create a contingency plan in case it’s evident that there was a coup d’état. Ms. Shae, what can you give us?”

Advisor Shae began to speak, “Ladies and gentlemen, the Demphorian-Latium Emergency Intervention Plan of 1997 described several instances and rules of engagement for an intervention in Latium, for this specific instance, the plan would go into effect immediately after the Demphorian Government recognizes a civil war is in Latium, and therefore the Cabinet would elect to pick a side. The plan would require the activation of a force of 5,000 marines, 2 armored regiments, and a Demphorian fleet of considerable size to sail towards Latium within a week’s time, departing from our eastern-most bases on M1 and doing so under the cover of a military exercise. On M5, the Demphorian fleet would force a landing on one of Latiums key strategic harbors that lies away from conflict or from the opposing domestic forces. On M5, the Demphorian government would publicly declare that it has temporarily seized the port to create an evacuation zone for internationals and refugees. By M12, the port and city would be under the temporary administration of the military, and another force of 5,000 marines may be necessary to land to keep order in coordination with local police. The port would be properly defended from enemy attack.”

“So we violate Latiums sovereignty?” asked Winsdor.

“Yes, it would be necessary for the second initiative of the plan,” Shae continued. “In addition to the creation of the diplomatic zone, we would use the harbor to supply favorable forces with guns, ammunition and financial aid, all strictly confidential.”

President Winsdor, Secretary of State Dermot and Secretary of Defense Cillín nodded in agreement. “The balance of power is kept secure then,” said Dermot.

“What happens if the Latins resist the occupation?” asked Cillín. “That would cause an international crisis and a war.”

“The Latin forces may suffer from a lack of confusion initially, and may be forced to surrender. If not, we land the marines elsewhere and march them on the city, while proceeding to blockade the port until the authorities surrender the city.”

“If the Akai gain a foothold in Latium, they’ll be emboldened to push us even harder than they are already,” Winsdor said, “so we must stop that influence one way or another.”

“I might just say,” Dermot said, “that we should adopt a rule that if we decide to conduct a military operation, we do it now, and wait for the President to give the discretionary orders as Commander-in-Chief of the Defense Forces.”

“Agreed,” said Cillín.

A slim majority of the cabinet agreed with the Secretary of State, and Winsdor then spoke.

“I will not be approving military action just yet, but I will be ordering a general mobilization. I must consult with the King, who just happens to be in Latium as we speak for a diplomatic visit. Once he returns, or it is clear that there is a civil war in Latium, I will discuss this with him and either authorize the military to take the necessary measures or tell them to stand down. We will begin mobilization under the auspices of a predetermined military exercise immediately. Thank you everyone.”

Code: Select all

To: Demphorian Naval Station Emergency Operations Command - Hywine
From: Office of the President
Encryption: CONFIDENTIAL

The 5th Fleet is to mobilize all ships and naval personnel for immediate offensive measures. The 4th Marine Division is ordered to mobilization for immediate offensive measures. The 15th Armored Regiment is ordered to mobilization for immediate offensive measures.

[The Demphorian Kingdoms]

August 15th, 2012
Christiana, Demphor

"His Royal Majesty, King George I!"

The crowd applauded as His Royal Majesty, King George I, stood up to take the podium. Their new King was someone they respected, at least publicly. The subject looked onwards in awe as he took the stage in a military uniform modeled by his adopted father. Father Benjamin would be proud to see his adopted son adorning a fine khaki uniform with a red kepi. The rank of Commander of the Royal Army adorning his epaulets. The small crowd of people awaited his speech. He reached into his pocket and pulled it out.

He began to speak. His words, commemorating the opening of this new hospital, did as much as a speech of sorts could to capture the hearts and minds of the people. The people looked up at the stage to find not only that King George was in attendance, but his brother, Prince Robert.

"So I thank you, my subjects. I leave my brother, Robert, here to inspect such a fine facility, and by the power vested in me as the King of of all the Demphorians, I declare that St. Didymos Hospital of Christiana is officially established!"

The applause was fair to a speech of that sort, and George stepped off the stage and started shaking hands with the crowd. Robert smiled and waved to the crowd before going inside with the hospital staff to begin inspecting the second floor of the building and working their way down to the basement. The crowd was excited to see their new King, and George desperately needed to win the hearts and minds of the people before people begin to question the legitimacy of his coup.

He got in his car, and his driver began to drive down the long driveway of the hospital. The crowd began to wander around the premises of the hospital, talking and socializing. Suddenly, a loud explosion rang out in the afternoon day the crowd turned to see a plume of smoke rise from the short distance. The King's car was on fire, pivoted sideways against a tree. It had exploded.

At that instant, Robert, Prince of Demphor was now Robert I, King of the Demphorians.

Robert looked outside the 2nd story window at the burning wreck of his brothers car. A single tear rolled down his eye. "So, it is finished?" he asked.

A man stood behind him, lighting a cigarette. "The explosion killed him and the driver. He is dead, our work did the job pretty well." He wiped something off his uniform.

"Will anyone believe it was a car crash?" asked Robert.

"Most likely. It was hard for people to see the car, and if anyone opens their mouth, well, you are technically the dictator King of Demphor with the power to silence anyone now. Even if you do want to return things back to normal, you can't do that unless you silence people who talk."

Robert wiped away his tear. "So, my reign begins it appears."

The man stepped forward, drew his ceremonial sword and kneeled before Robert. "My King, I swear my loyalty to ensure your reign as the King of Demphor and liberator of the people. Never shall my allegiance lie elsewhere, and never shall my allegiance sway. I shall stay the course, my King. Long may you reign."

Robert stood there, looking down at the General. This man had given up everything to give him power, and now would go forward to ensure that Robert's vision would go through.

Robert wiped away another tear. "You may rise, General John Winsdor. I am forever in your debt."

---

13 September 2016
Palace of Augustus
Castellum ab Alba, Latin Empire

Robert snapped out of his thought with a fright. He was nervous and felt sweaty. He hated thinking back to those days of war and plots. He collected himself and returned to focusing on his task at hand. He was sitting in a chair in a room in the Palace of Augustus. This meeting between the King of Demphor and the Emperor of the Latins was, ideally, a statement of support for each other in these turbulent time. The Keeper of the Demphorian Court walked into the room and began to speak.

“Your Highness, the Court presents to you, Is Imperalis Majestas Michael VIII, Dei Gratia, Maximus Serenus et Nobilissimus, Invictus, Imperator Latinorum, Basileus et Autokrator Graeci, Rex Regis, Apostolicus Rex Castelli et Agato, Magnificus Princeps Alexandria, Princeps Ravenni, Dominus Palatini, Pater Patriae, Princeps Senatus, Par Apostolo, Qui Praecipit Nostri Maris Promit, Gladius Christi, Fidei Defensor, Dux et Primus Caput Legionis.”

Robert I nodded silently. In came newly crowned Michael, Emperor of the Latins.

Yet behind this mask of an Emperor was a boy Robert saw a degree of incompetence. By all means, we all are, he thought, but when people know about what you’ve done to get where you are then that’s where it goes wrong. Robert heard the reports of gunfire. The Office of Strategic Services was good about keeping tabs. This boy did a sloppy job of cementing his reign. Rather, he’s done an awful job. So awful that his opponent was still alive. It was done on impulse and rage rather than logic and meditation.

The Keeper of the Court then spoke.

“Your Majesty, Michael IX, this Royal Court of the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís presents to you: His Most Serene Majesty, Robert I, High-King of the Demphorians, Lord of Élbannin and Great King of Duís. Conquerer of the Dûrs, the Dessex, the Argøsas and Westflørdés. Protector of the Tempesta and and Lord Protector of the Realms of Demphor by the Grace of God.”

Robert then slowly rose to meet the gaze of this Emperor. Robert was wearing his military uniform, with a white kepi atop his head. This man was taller than him, but Robert’s stare, cold but intended, stood over the eyes of this Emperor. He gave a small bow.

“Your Highness,” he stated.

”Your Highness,” Michael responded.

The Keeper of Robert’s Court left at the King’s command. Robert and Michael were alone in the room.

“I hope you find your first few days in office… …comfortable,” said King Robert.

“Comfortable as can be I suppose,” Michael put on a covering smile. “Though you’ve no doubt heard the troubling news from the last few days. Terrible, terrible thing when you lose your father and your own brother steals away your siblings. Truly such a cowardly act.”

Robert, thinking back to his earlier thoughts, responded. “Conflict is an instrument of change, regardless of whether you condone it or not. A fight may be unavoidable, I can tell you that. But to predict who will come out on top… …that I can’t offer my opinion on.”

“Aye,” Michael nodded before gesturing to nearby seats in the Imperial Apartment. “Please make yourself comfortable,” he offered before continuing. “You’re no stranger to that type of change are you?”

Robert made his way towards a seat while the Emperor posed his question, “You could say that, yes, I am no stranger to war, death,” Robert paused, “and I am no stranger to unwise leadership.”

“A troubled couple of years. I’m glad you’ve kept your crown through it all,” Michael attempted to flatter the king. “Our two countries have remained close friends over the years. My grandfather Leo saw to that. It’s my hope we can, err...continue such a relationship.”

Robert smiled out of courtesy, “Thank you.” He stayed silent for a moment, “My great-grandfather, King James, would be proud of the work of your late father. It is a shame he died in such… …violent circumstances.”

“The doctors tell me my father passed in his sleep,” Michael tried his best to keep a straight face, and appeared successful. “It isn’t public yet, but it appears he may have been related to sleeping pills he had been taking. Truly a shame, I loved him dearly.”

Robert responded, “A shame, sleeping pills. Doctors say many a things. My doctors said that my brother died in a car crash, but sometimes the real reports we keep to ourselves, no?” He gave this Emperor a small, unassuring grin.

“I’m afraid I never went to medical school or even finished my post-secondary, so I’d have to trust the experts on this one,” Michael feigned a smile. “Becoming a ruler tends to trump such things.”

Robert chuckled, “No, no. No Throne or Crown can trump the truth, Your Highness. It only distracts those around you from it.” Robert paused for a second, “this reminds me of a dream.” He looked at this Emperor. “I remember this dream that I keep having. I’m standing by the Throne room, it’s nighttime and there’s no guard in sight. I see my brother, George. He’s walking towards the throne room, slowly, pale and as evil as ever before. In his hands are the heads of brother Eric and sister Anne. He slowly makes his way up the steps toward the chair, and suddenly, a sword sticks through him. And behind the sword is… …me.”

He looks at Michael, puzzled by the dream. “Well, naturally such a thing would have haunted me because, well, it’s all true.”

“Your Majesty,” Michael corrected Robert in the manner of his address in a stern tone.

Robert grinned, “Yes, of course, Your Majesty. My apologies.” He added, “Of course nobody would ever believe me. Not because there isn’t evidence, but because there’s nobody around who’s alive to complain about it.” He paused and stared back at Michael. He then laughed softly, “No, I wouldn’t dare threaten to kill you.”

He stood up from his chair, “You are right Your Majesty, as you’ve said, it’s my hope we can, continue such a successful relationship between our two states. I can guarantee you many things will come to a fruitful relationship between the Latins and Demphorians. I think there are several steps we can take for this.”

Michael’s limited patience was growing thin with Robert’s storytelling and everything the young Emperor believed the king was implying. “Accidents happen, but yes let’s move on,” he didn’t even bother to fake a smile this time as his patience was growing thin. “I hope we can continue to the warm friendship between our nations. It is integral to re-establishing security in the area.”

“The warm friendship between our nations must involve putting these last few dreadful days behind us,” said Robert, quietly and sternly. “It involves proper, professional, and legal leadership.” Robert made sure Michael understood what he was saying. “In Demphor, we do not fight unless it becomes necessary. Your Majesty, things in my eyes are becoming very, very necessary.”

Robert, stil standing, started making his way towards the door. He turned back to him. “You were close, Your Majesty, very close. But you’re right, Dempo-Latin relations are important and I wish to maintain them. If you want positive relations, you will abdicate your throne in the next ten days and leave this country. You will swear allegiance to a proper Emperor of Latium and serve with dignity in whatever position he decrees. And in addition for your compliance, Demphor will personally forget that any of these incidents you have caused ever happened.”

He paused and clenched his teeth, “because if you don’t, so help me God. I will never, ever forget.”

“The courts have already declared me the right heir of my father!” Michael stood up and shouted to King Robert. “My father’s own will said just the same. He passed me his powers, I am the Emperor and you will leave my home at once. Guard!” he finally shouted. “See to it that King Robert is safely escorted off the premises.”

Robert had already made his way to the door, opening and walking through into the large hallway where he was greeted by his Keeper of the Court.

“How was your visit, Your Majesty?”

“I believe it could have been better, but I learned much from it,” said King Robert, “I must request a meeting with the President immediately.”

Collaborated with Latium.

[Republica De Gran Chaco]

To: His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From: Foreign Minister, Republica de Gran Chaco
Subject: Passing of Emperor Jason
Encryption: Moderate

---

Your Imperial Majesty,

I would like to extend our sorrow at the news of the passing of your father. He was a respected man and a just ruler, and I personally admired him. It is never easy to lose a family member so I will make this message brief. Just know that the Nation of Chaco offers their condolences and wishes you the best in your new role leading the nation.

Minister of Foreign Affairs,
Pedro Samayani Picha

To: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
From: Assistant Minister for International Relations, Republica de Gran Chaco
Subject: Events in Latium
Encryption: Highest

---

Dear Minister,

As you know the succession in Latium seems sudden to say the least. Admittedly we have few assets in a nation so far from Chaco, and we would like to hear the opinions of Jedoria on the situation. Frankly we would like to hear opinions and analysis on the legitimacy of the new leader, and what would be best for the stability of the region.

We both have CTO trade partners near Latium and it would no doubt have a negative impact on all of the CTO if the flow of goods was threatened. This has our government most concerned.

If the situation is deemed serious enough for Jedoria to commit to stabilizing the situation through some kind of intervention, then Chaco will honor our friendship if asked to.

Assistant Minister for International Relations,
Xeina Ccallo

[Jedoria]

To: Secretary of State Sylvester Dermont
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Situation in Latium
Encryption: Highest

Dear Secretary,

Greetings to you, I hope this message finds you in good health. As this is our first official correspondence, I regret having to discuss a potentially unstable and troubling situation developing the Latin Empire. As I understand the Demphorian Kingdoms and no doubt the recent death of the former Emperor is cause for mourning within your nation. While a time of remembrance would seem most appropriate, it appears that a situation has developed within Latium.

It was the understanding of myself and my colleagues within my government that Prince Constantine was the expected heir to the throne, but now we are learning that Prince Michael instead has been declared Emperor. While as a nation without a monarchy and therefore in little position to comment about the inner workings of the royal family, the unexpected death of the Emperor, in addition to the reports of possible conflict between the two brothers, Michael and Constantine, is cause for concern.

As I am sure you are aware,the Confederation itself has only recently recovered from the dastardly murder of our former Duke by terrorists, and so we must bring ourselves to question what is really going on within the Empire.

If possible, my government wishes to cooperate with other regional states in northern Acheron to further unveil what is ongoing within Latium. If this is permissible, I hope to further cooperate with your government in response to this situation.

I look forward to your reply,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

[New Edom]

The New Edomite Embassy, Latium

Intelligence operations in Latium were conducted by several groups: the National Air Force, the Navy, and the Council Police. However Latium was hardly a pushover nation or a nation in chaos--it was a nation with strongly centralized authority. If there was a watchword for New Edomite intelligence efforts in Latium, it was 'caution'. Twelve years ago, reviewing relations, then Minister of Foreign Affairs Prince Philip Tubal-Cain had pointed out that it was necessary to balance dealing with the Late Roman Empire and Latium. However in the years following civil war had emerged, and then Sif Finnhald, the Foreign Minister for the Theocratic Government and later President of the Council forged stronger relations with the Late Roman Empire. As a result, a quiet hidden war emerged within government circles about foreign policy. This had been overshadowed by an increasing closeness with the Romans versus the Latins. The "Romans" appeared to be winning. However King Elijah IV had made some cautious overtures to Emperor Jason, and the "Latins" were a bit more optimistic now.

The Ambassador, Admiral Randronoth, was not one of these. He had been appointed during the 3rd Civil War to keep the Latins calm about the situation. His charm, athleticism, military credentials, friendly confidence and excellent gift with languages made him, in the mind of the former Foreign Minister Dr. Aphek, ideal. His charge d'affaires, Count Seekron, was a naturally cautious, fussy and officious man. The combinatio of these two men, reading through the message from the new claimant to the Imperial throne, was therefore a response largely based on their concerns for courtesy and properly official line of comment was the main focus.

It was almost entirely about condolences, deep regrets expressed to the family and the nation, and the flag was dipped and formal attenandance at church to pray for the soul of the dead emperor and for his family and the nation. This was made very public.

However intelligence operatives were sifting through information. What exactly had happened was unclear. There were rumours of outbreaks of violence.

[Leasath]

The Imperial Palace, Saint-Nazaire, Vannois

"This way, M. Prime Minister." The young Imperial Guard that had led the Duke of Périnesse-Toucourt to the Emperor's private chambers for a quick and unceremonious appointment to his new position rushed the shorter man ahead of him, a strong hand on his upper arm. The Prime Minister was surrounded on all sides by Imperial Guards, actually, the men and one woman chaperoning him since his motorcade arrived at the Palace gates with massive fanfare from outside media. Ostensibly, he was still conversing with the Emperor, perhaps still not even yet appointed to his new role in government. Of course, those who knew the real machinations that occurred in the Imperial Palace knew that this was unlikely; the power of the Vannoisian throne had not rested with the Emperor in some time.

"Lion has arrived." The guard that had a hand on his arm now spoke into a small microphone at his wrist, nodding at the feedback and pushing open a door that led into a large study, currently occupied by some of the most important men in Vannoisian government.

"Dismissed, Lieutenant." The Crown Prince and Dauphin of Vannois, Audric de Niort-Parthenay, smiled tightly at the men that had rushed the Duke into his chambers, and turned away towards a large bay window behind his desk as they left. Now standing was the man that the Duke intended to appoint as his Foreign Secretary, Jean-Yves Nicollier, as well as a major Alliance Centriste member in Pierre Valluy and, finally, Henri Portier who was at the moment the second most powerful man in the Vannoisian Military as Chief of Staff of the Vannoisian Army (or simply CEMAT). Still sitting was the Prince Frédéric of Vannois, who simply nodded a greeting at the Prime Minister and royal cousin before returning his gaze to his nephew.

"Your Majesties, Jean-Yves. Ah, M. Valluy and General Portier. I assume this meeting is off the record?"

"Yes, Jean-Christophe." The young Prince held his hands behind his back, standing stiffly before turning from the window towards the men gathered with him. "The situation in Latium is a danger to Vannois and to certain exceedingly important individuals within the Latin royal family, and by extension that of Vannois due to our mutual ties to Ghant." He looked around the room, eyeing each man there. "We as a group are undoubtedly the most powerful men in Vannois, and it is due to that distinction that I have gathered you all here. We must make decisions, and it is best if we come to certain conclusions in those decisions so as to avoid mistakes that could end terribly for the Empire and for the innocents in Latium."

"I assume you are referencing the Princess Selene at some level, Dauphin?" At a restricted nod from Audric - who tried to avoid sentimentality in state affairs, but had been as yet unable to contact his girlfriend under the thumb of the so-called successor to Jason Augustus - Périnesse-Toucourt rubbed his chin. "Has there been any contact between the Imperial Palace and either pretender to the throne as yet? Or even between Prévost-Desprez and Castellum before her short time at the Palais de Étrimont?"

"No. I have seen to that." Frédéric spoke now, somewhat mysterious; the youngest son of Charles XII was an unknown quantity to many of the power players in Vannois, and truth be told the Duke was surprised to see him there with the others assembled. Nicollier as the face of the foreign policies of the future elected government; Valluy as the obvious link to a parliamentary majority for the UMP, and the General as the armed forces ties so vaunted by those around the Royal Family. Must keep an eye on this one, I suppose, the Duke thought, curious.

"That is to our advantage, then, of course; we can formulate policy wholly between this group." Périnesse-Toucourt was rather glad at this revelation.

"I believe I have the first step, gentlemen." Audric was pained, it was obvious, by what he was to say next. "We must contact both sides of this, the Prince Constantine as well as Michael, and promise nothing. We shall offer condolences from the Imperial Palace and assistance, though only in the most generalized of terms. Should we receive correspondence in return, we will evaluate that information upon arrival. Know that the decision making power in the end must rest with myself; your advice will be taken with the utmost importance. Do not fret. You are all here for good reason." With that, Audric summoned a trusted member of the Foreign Ministry, one that would be kept on under Nicollier and the new regime, to begin communiques to both Michael and Constantine.

To His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From Dauphin Audric of Vannois, Crown Prince and Duke of Saint-Nazaire
On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
High Encryption

Emperor Michael,

It is with heavy heart that I offer my own and the Emperor Charles's condolences on the death of your respected father, Emperor Jason Augustus. He was a just and godly man, a great Emperor and a friend of Vannois. I do not wish to distract you in this difficult time, so just let it be known that the Empire offers her sincerest condolences. We wish you the best of luck, and offer assistance in whatever you may need; Castellum and Saint-Nazaire are, as ever, friends.

Signed,
Dauphin Audric, Crown Prince of Vannois and Duke of Saint Nazaire

To His Imperial Majesty Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins
From Dauphin Audric of Vannois, Crown Prince and Duke of Saint-Nazaire
On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
High Encryption

Emperor Constantine,

It is with heavy heart that I offer my own and the Emperor Charles's condolences on the death of your respected father, Emperor Jason Augustus. He was a just and godly man, a great Emperor and a friend of Vannois. I do not wish to distract you in this difficult time, so just let it be known that the Empire offers her sincerest condolences. We wish you the best of luck, and offer assistance in whatever you may need; Castellum and Saint-Nazaire are, as ever, friends.

Signed,
Dauphin Audric, Crown Prince of Vannois and Duke of Saint Nazaire

Some time later...

"General Portier, I hereby authorize the mobilization of the 4th Special Forces Helicopter Regiment in the event that the Ambassadorial staff in Latium are to be evacuated. Please inform them to await further instruction. God willing, there will be no need." The Crown Prince stood from his desk once again, where he had been dictating to the writer and taking advice from those around them on the official wording. "You are all given my leave to go. Know that you will be called back here, and the methods by which you arrive will likely be kept with press avoidance in mind. Goodbye."

[The Demphorian Kingdoms]

To: Secretary of State Sylvester Dermont
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Situation in Latium
Encryption: Highest

Dear Secretary,

Greetings to you, I hope this message finds you in good health. As this is our first official correspondence, I regret having to discuss a potentially unstable and troubling situation developing the Latin Empire. As I understand the Demphorian Kingdoms and no doubt the recent death of the former Emperor is cause for mourning within your nation. While a time of remembrance would seem most appropriate, it appears that a situation has developed within Latium.

It was the understanding of myself and my colleagues within my government that Prince Constantine was the expected heir to the throne, but now we are learning that Prince Michael instead has been declared Emperor. While as a nation without a monarchy and therefore in little position to comment about the inner workings of the royal family, the unexpected death of the Emperor, in addition to the reports of possible conflict between the two brothers, Michael and Constantine, is cause for concern.

As I am sure you are aware,the Confederation itself has only recently recovered from the dastardly murder of our former Duke by terrorists, and so we must bring ourselves to question what is really going on within the Empire.

If possible, my government wishes to cooperate with other regional states in northern Acheron to further unveil what is ongoing within Latium. If this is permissible, I hope to further cooperate with your government in response to this situation.

I look forward to your reply,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

---

Official Diplomatic Communiqué of Government of the the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
Oifigeil Dioplòmasach Fios-Oifigeil nà Riaghaltais nà Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís

---

From: The Right Honourable Sylvester Dermot, Secretary of State and Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
To: The Right Honourable Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

---

Presented to the recipient in the utmost secrecy.

---

Dear Sir,

The Foreign Office for the Department of State & Foreign Relations has notified me of your message as of 9:00 this morning, and I am welcomed to receive your note. Emperor Jason Augustus of Latium was a close friend of the Monarchy of Demphor, and his passing has indeed saddened many within the administration.

The Demphorian government can not comment on it's view of the situation in Latium at the present time. The President has been consulted by myself and several members of the cabinet as to Michael's ascent to the throne, and with little evidence providing to the contrary of the legality of his ascension presented to the international community at the present time, the Demphorian government will declare it's intent to remain neutral at the present time. If evidence to the contrary is presented, the government will be compelled to reconsider it's recognition of the ascent and take any and all necessary action it deems fit.

Demphor's Christiana Doctrine demands collective efforts to meet threats to security in Acheron. It demands the participation of all those who rely on freedom and who are concerned with global peace and stability, and it demands consultation and close cooperation with countries in the area which might be threatened, thus, the Demphorian government will be willing to cooperate in the event of such an event.

The Demphorian government has and will continue to maintain a close eye on affairs in Latium. If unmistakable evidence establishes the fact that Emperor Michael of the Latins did usurp the succession laws of the Latin Empire, the President of Demphor would deem it necessary to take all appropriate actions to act on the situations. If it is clean that Michael's government will launch an attempt to gain control of any other countries in the Acheron region, the State Department will be directed to cut ties immediately with the Latin government in immediate power. If the Latin Empire launches an attack upon any nation in the northern hemisphere, it will be regarded as an attack by the Latin Empire upon the Kingdom of Demphor, and such an assault will be repelled by any means necessary, including and possibly a full, retaliatory and military response by Demphor upon the aggressor state.

We shall endeavor in spite of this to keep the Ditorate of Akai neutral in the affairs of the Latin State, and in the interests of supporting the correct government in such a situation, believe that the collective actions of several states may be necessary to subvert any efforts the Akai government may push for.

The Demphorian administration looks for furthered discussion with this situation.

From the undersigned,

Sylvester Dermot
Rùnaire na Stàite agus Dàimh-Coimheach
Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís
14 September 2016

[Lacus Magni]

Leo
Hellas
12 September 2016

Leo said his goodbyes to his mother, sister, and grandmother, as well as a brief moment alone with Constantine. “Next time I see you, you’ll be draped in purple,” Leo joked with his cousin before leaving.

“Aye, what a sight that would be,” Constantine laughed with a nod of his head. “And ripped jeans and flannel seem to agree with you well. Who would have guessed?”

“Any advice?” Leo asked him once the laughter among the two subsided.

“Don’t get caught.”

If only it were that easy, Leo thought back to the last thing his cousin said to him. They left by military jeep initially, due to the lack of civilian vehicles in and surrounding the castle, only abandoning it at the first sign of a civilian car.

“Have you ever hotwired a car before?” Captain Fronto, the most senior of the Praetorians traveling with Leo asked another.

“Not since I was sixteen I think,” the other replied. By that point, they had taken only country roads where traffic at such a late hour would be minimal to nonexistent. “My parents went to a Christmas party down way near Iuenna and took the keys to the other car. I wanted to drive my girl around...damn near crashed the car that night.”

It didn’t take long for him to start the car, but every second they stood out in the open was one where they risked being caught. And they were still four hours away from Leonopolis. If that’s where Anna even is?

Luckily they weren’t caught, and piled into the SUV parked outside of a small house in the sleepy countryside neighborhood. Even more lucky that they ran into it as soon as they did.

As before, Captain Fronto did the driving and was adamant on doing so until they reached Leonopolis. “I’m the best goddamn driver in the Guard,” he told them all once they started off again, this time on the Raedavea national highway. Every time they objected the others spat off how he once drove Consul Vindóbona through the “rabid pack of those student protesters,” a few years back. “I swear, if it were’t me behind that wheel, the Consul woulda never gotten out o’there in one piece.” They all laughed, even Leo; the banter kept things lighthearted for the first few hours of their journey.

Since it was still the dark of night, the roads were near bare of all traffic and Leo felt like they were making great time. “Take a load off, Your Highness. We got ‘nother three hours or so,” Fronto told Leo. “You’ve had a long night. If something happens we’ll wake you.”

The Prince found it hard to get comfortable in the back seat of the SUV. The gun he was wearing kept finding a way to dig against him, causing his discomfort. After wiggling it around for a handful of minutes, he found comfort and dozed off almost fifteen minutes later.

He dreamt of childhood games, running through the crypts chasing after his cousins and sisters. The children played games often in the crypts; they were dank, dirty, often stinky, and quite place most days. Leo was a child again, chasing his cousin Maria down during a game of tag. He nearly reached her when all the sudden he fell face first to the ground. Covered in dirt, mud and grime he looked at his hands and heard only laughs. “Mud for the mud prince,” he heard Michael laughing hysterically behind him, Selene joining in the laugher though she was far too young to know any better.

The dream repeated, he fell and he fell, until one time he work up as he felt a jerk and the fall. The Mud Prince, he thought as his eyes opened. The car was stopped. “Where are we?”

“Road block, sir. Almost into Hellas, we passed through Rhenus nearly ten minutes ago,” the Praetorian in the passenger seat, Evocati Duronius, told him.

“Go back to sleep...or least pretend to,” Captain Fronto kept his focus forward. There still wasn’t much traffic on the Raedavea, two cars ahead of theirs and another three behind them. The rudimentary checkpoint was stationed by at least two visible police officers, but it was hard to tell in the limited light of the early morning.

“Scholae by the look of ‘em,” Duronius said to no one in particular.

“We’ll have to bluff our way through this one, boys,” Fronto stated. “You sleeping yet, ‘Highness? Close those eyes and try to hide that face o’ yours. The rest of you keep quiet.”

“Morning,” the lead police officer said to Fronto when it was their turn at the checkpoint. “Where you all headed?”

“Dodona,” was all Fronto said in a quiet voice.

“Where in Dodona?”

“Our mum’s place in Arrabona. It’s her birthday tomorrow and my brothers and I wanted to surprise her,” Fronto put on a smile. “She’ll be 73.”

Leo couldn’t see the officer’s expression, and continued to sit there with his eyes closed and his head rested against the window of the back seat. “What’s wrong with that one?” the officer asked, seeing Leo move.

“Bit much to drink last night I’m sorry to say,” Fronto kept smiling. “You know how younger brothers can be...you wouldn’t believe it. We had to pull him away from the kegs before we left...I wasn’t sure we’d ever get him in the car.”

“He alive?” the officer joked.

“You poke him if you like,” Fronto laughed. “But you can clean up the vomit if it comes to that.”

“No, no. Just let me see the registration and you’ll be free to go.” Fronto smacked Duronius on the knee and pointed to the glove box. He muffled around until he found it, handing it to Fronto who then handed it to the officer. He was silent, looked at the papers and then handed them to his co-officer who walked around to check the vehicle’s plates. “Everything seems to be in order,” he handed the papers back to Fronto who grinned a smile at him.

The group kept silent for the first few minutes after they began driving down the Raedavea. “Do you think they knew who we were?” Leo asked everyone.

“Doubtful, we’re not exactly wearing out ID badges. And your head was buried against that there window,” Duronius told Leo. “I can’t imagine we’ll have much trouble the rest of the way.”

He was right, Leo and the three Praetorians didn’t run into any other roadblocks, checkpoints or surprise stops until they reached the Dodona-Pella county border. When they stopped to get gas, Fronto went to pay the £20 in cash to refuel, and then Duronius began to fuel the car. They had told Leo to stay in the car, but they had been driving for hours by now and he needed to stretch.

Leo stepped out of the car, and threw a hooded sweatshirt on over his raggedy flannel shirt. He was leaning against the SUV when the third Praetorian, Evocati Caprarius, handed him a bottle of water when another person fueling their car spoke to them.

“You boys look tired...long drive?” the middle aged man wearing a light windbreaker jacket said to them in Greek.

Pella and Ionia were the heart of the Hellenic counties of Latium, and though nearly all residents could speak Latin well, they rarely did so. It made Leo feel like they were nearly there.

Leo was about to speak but Evocati Duronius spoke up before the Prince ever had a chance. “Aye, you could say that. Brothers and I left from Alexandria few hours ago,” he said in Greek, but with a clear accent.

“You speak well enough Greek for a non-native speaker,” the man smiled. “A nice vacation then, where abouts you from?

“Aye vacation,” Leo nodded to the man.

“Castellum, that's where we’re headed now,” Fronto added as he reappeared from inside the gas station.

“Best o’luck with that, traffic to the capital might be a damn mess. I saw on the EPT that the Emperor died last night,” the man looked sad at the thought of the Latin monarch’s passing. “Terrible thing for a man that young...I never met him myself but my father fought for his in the War.”

“How are did things look in Leonopolis?” Leo asked the man with little hint of an accent, though he just looked at Leo with a sense of confusion.

“Aye this one here knows himself some of the good man’s language. But I don’t understand, did you all just come from that way,” the man asked.

“Our brother was sleeping the whole way, and we avoided going through the city if we could,” Fronto quickly covered for the Prince, though Leo thought Fronto was going to smack him on the head

“Seemed abouts normal for this time of day. There was an accident or something along Drómos Mov near city center,” the man told them four of them as his car stopped pumping gas. “Seems that’s all she needs. You boys have a good morn’ and safe travels home.”

“And you as well,” Leo smiled to the man as he got back in his car and drove off. Afterwards, Leo and the Praetorians packed back into their SUV and went out to finish the remainder of their journey to Leonopolis. He was excited at the thought of seeing Anna again, and all indication was that the Hellenic counties were not yet under the control of Michael.

But when they gathered back in the car, Fronto and the other Praetorians didn’t say anything about Leo’s misstep in speaking with the old Greek man. They said the occasional joke or typical banter until they reached the city limits. “Where to now, I can’t think many people round here that can help. There’s not even a base so close to the city,” Duronius said once they crossed into the city limits.

It was near 7:00 in the morning by now, and Leo reached into his pocket where he pulled out a crumbled piece of paper with an address written on it. “We’re not looking for a base,” Leo told them. “We’re looking for a politician. The people are just as important as the arms. Find 29100 Drómos Herodou Attikou, city center.”

After fifteen or so odd minute of driving through the early morning traffic, they found themselves upon Drómos Herodou Attikou. Nothing looked out unusual when compared to a normal morning in any city of Latium. When they reached the address, Leo saw the person they were looking for, but by then she had just got in her car and began driving. “There!” Leo pointed at the black luxury car. “Follow that car right there.” Still driving the car, Fronto did just as he was ordered, though followed at a comfortable distance.

The black car came to a stop in front of four story modern looking office building before it pulled around to a nearby parking lot that was slowly filling up. “EEEG? What kind of place is this?” Caprarius asked, obviously confused.

“It’s the Greek National Campaign Office,” Leo said while the car was stopped right before he jumped out and casually walked towards the building’s entrance. He walked slowly as if to perfectly time when he would reach the door and the person he had been hoping to meet. She walked just in front of him. “Anna,” he reached out for her shoulder as her back was turned to her.

Then she turned around, her straight, long brown hair flipping around with her. “Leo?” she sounded as shocked as she was confused to see him here, but lept into his arms for a hug and planted a kiss on his cheek anyway. “My God, I’m so glad you’re safe...Jesus...and your Uncle, I’m so sorry,” she wouldn’t let go of him, not that he minded, it felt good to be near here again and know she was safe. “Here are my keys, go wait in my car and I’ll be right back down.”

She handed him her keys and planted another kiss on his cheek. Leo smiled as he watched her run up the steps into the building, and turned back to the SUV with the Praetorians. “Wait here, and follow us if we start to drive,” he told them.

“So you’re telling me we drove through all that so you could see your girl?” Caprarius snapped at Leo. “I thought we were looking for soldiers. What a fucking waste of time.”

“She’s a senator...and the leader of the Greek bloc,” Leo told him in a serious but quiet tone. “She can help. So follow. That is an order.” Leo was stern and clear enough that Fronto worked to calm Capranius down. He eventually apologized and Leo walked over to Anna’s car. Her car was parked in the nearby parking lot, and Leo hit the lock button to find the car, once he did he got in and took a seat.

Leo waited inside for a few minutes, cautiously looking around. Anna seemed to think he was in some sort of danger, even deep inside the Greek counties of the east; maybe I am? But face sprouted a smile once he was able to see she was walking his way. The last time he saw Anna Kinnamos was in May, she had shorter hair then, he thought back. Her olive colored skin was darker now too, did she just go on vacation?

“Sorry that took so long,” she told him as she entered the car and sat in the driver's seat, speaking faster than she usually would. “I told Thomas to reschedule all my plans for the morning...you look starved, let’s get you something to eat.”

He noddedShe looks as beautiful as ever, he thought before his mind switched back to why he came to see her. I have a job to do, he told himself. “I’m glad you’re safe,” he said with a sense of relief as the car began to move and pull onto the street.

Anna looked confused. “Safe? I wasn’t aware I was in any danger,” she tried to veil her confusion with a laugh, but it quickly faded.

“I just assumed things would be more...chaotic. Have you seen anything unusual, odd movements by the Scholae or military?” he asked her as they made the familiar drive back to her home in Leonopolis.

“...not here...” she was still confused. “There were never many of them here to begin with.” They were silent for the rest of the drive, until they pulled up in front of her building. They stepped out of the car and walked toward the door, Anna walking more cautiously when she saw three unfamiliar men walking towards her and Leo.

“They’re with me,” he told her.

She dug through her purse for her keys and let all four men in. Anna told Leo’s Praetorians they could make themselves comfortable and asked if they wanted any coffee or tea. They did. Leo followed her into the kitchen so he could help her prepare and to hopefully explain things.

“What’s going on, Leo?” she appeared upset and leaned with her back against a counter near the coffee brew. “There are so many crazy stories on the news about you...about Constantine. I don’t even know what’s happening. Michael is recalling the Senate, I’m scheduled to fly there tonight, but then you show up here.”

“He chased us...chased us all, Anna,” Leo walked close to her. “My...uncle is dead, he wanted Constantine to be Emperor, he told me himself. He...Michael tried to kill the Empress. I’m sorry to bring you into this, but I had to see you...make sure you were safe and that you stayed away from the capital.”

“I have to go back,” she told him as if she was stating a fact. “One second, let me go run them this coffee.”

“No, wait,” he reached for her arm before she walked away. “Once you’re back you might never get out,” Leo was afraid, and he had never been afraid like this before, especially in front of Anna - and she knew it. “He tried to kill us last night. And not just me or Constantine, but Empress Marsella. My sisters and cousins.”

She put the cups of coffee down on the counter and was silent. But Leo couldn’t tell if she simply didn’t believe him or was just shocked into silence.

“Anna, he already has Theodora. I don’t want him to have you either.”

“Me? Why would he want me, I haven’t said maybe more than three words to him...I don’t even control the Senate,” she was rambling because she’s nervous he suspected.

“Michael has hated me since the first moment he heard my name,” Leo walked closer to her, but quickly backstepped. “If...if he did what we think he did last night, then I don’t even want to think about what he’d do to the people I care about.”

Instead she walked to him. “I won’t go. I’ll stay here...with you,” she looked into his eyes. “We’ll get your sister back.”

Anna kissed him - just like she used to when they were younger and together. Leo wrapped her in his arms as she rested her head against his chest. “Thank you,” he said.

They stayed silent for a moment, sharing it together before Captain Fronto walked into the kitchen to see if anything was wrong. But he slipped out with the coffee and tea just as quickly as he stepped in. “I uh...I’ll call a meeting of my Senators,” was the first thing Anna said after the prolonged silence. “And my uncle too.”

Anna’s uncle was The Doux Palaiologi, himself a prominent figure among the Greeks in Latium. Leo knew if he could secure the Doux’s support, along with most Greek senators, that he will have been on his way to accomplishing his mission for Constantine.

[Lacus Magni]

To: His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From: Foreign Minister, Republica de Gran Chaco
Subject: Passing of Emperor Jason
Encryption: Moderate

---

Your Imperial Majesty,

I would like to extend our sorrow at the news of the passing of your father. He was a respected man and a just ruler, and I personally admired him. It is never easy to lose a family member so I will make this message brief. Just know that the Nation of Chaco offers their condolences and wishes you the best in your new role leading the nation.

Minister of Foreign Affairs,
Pedro Samayani Picha

To:Pedro Samayani Picha, Foreign Minister, Republica de Gran Chaco
From: His Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
Subject: Re: Passing of Emperor Jason
Encryption: Moderate

---

Minister Picha,

First of all, I would like to thank you for your kind words regarding my father. Sadness continues to plague my sister and myself over the unexpected loss of our Father, but the kind words, thoughts and prayers mean the world to us; demonstrating what a true and good man he really was. The coming days ought to be difficult, and I would also like to thank you for your wishes. It is my hope that I can lead the Senate and People of Latium as well as my father and through this difficult time.

Kind Regards,
His Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins

To His Imperial Majesty Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
From Dauphin Audric of Vannois, Crown Prince and Duke of Saint-Nazaire
On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
High Encryption

Emperor Michael,

It is with heavy heart that I offer my own and the Emperor Charles's condolences on the death of your respected father, Emperor Jason Augustus. He was a just and godly man, a great Emperor and a friend of Vannois. I do not wish to distract you in this difficult time, so just let it be known that the Empire offers her sincerest condolences. We wish you the best of luck, and offer assistance in whatever you may need; Castellum and Saint-Nazaire are, as ever, friends.

Signed,
Dauphin Audric, Crown Prince of Vannois and Duke of Saint Nazaire

To: Dauphin Audric of Vannois
From: Princess Selene of Latium
Subject: Re: On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
Encryption: Moderate

---

Audric,

Reading your letter to my brother Michael absolutely warmed my heart. As you can imagine, the last few days have been exceedingly difficult and simply unimaginable since the last time I saw you. I know you have probably been paying attention to the news and I want you to know that I'm safe and at home. Michael has made sure that I want for nothing, and has been very attentive and is tirelessly working to find Peter, Philip, Olivia, Poly and Maria. I'm so afraid something terrible will happen to them, and that Leo would hurt them to get back at Michael for whatever perceived slight he imagines. We need your help, Audric. If we don't find my brothers and sisters soon I don't know if I will ever see them again. I know my brother has been looking for safe place for me to stay should Constantine and his band of traitors begin to cause trouble; with your help I think I can convince him to let me stay with you in Vannois.

Love,
Selene

[Jedoria]

To: Assistant Minister for International Relations, Republica de Gran Chaco
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Events in Latium
Encryption: Highest

Dear Assistant Minister,

It is comforting to hear from an ally that shares the concerns of the Confederation. If I am to speak honestly, I must express my reservations regarding the situation developing in Latium and the proclaimed ascension of the former prince Michael to Emperor. The unexpected death of the former Emperor, and the reports of violence and curfews being emplaced leads me to suspect that foul play is at hand. However at the current time my government lacks concrete evidence to confirm or deny such suspicions.

Instead, we have opted to contact several other states with interests in the events ongoing in Latium to deduce where the regional attitude lies in regards to the situation unfolding in the Empire. At this time such endeavors are still underway, and it will likely be some time before a complete picture can be pieced together from what evidence is available.

Your stated concerns regarding trade and the CTO have not fallen on deaf ears, and indeed I will be in contact with my Noviteran counterparts shortly to deduce what course of action we should take as a united front. If necessary we may be forced to act in our best commercial and economic interest, however only time will tell, it seems. For now, thank your for this correspondence, and I will endeavor to keep you informed of whatever information comes our way.

Kind Regards,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

Chacoan assistance was in fact appreciated by the Confederates. The Jedorian plans for Chaco were numerous; the smaller state was strategically located and offered a valuable point of force projection for power in the southern part of the region. Principal was the establishment and construction of runways capable of supporting Jedorian strategic bombers, though none would be stationed there permanently the ability to move in flights of bombers from mainland Jedoria would remain a possible card to play if need be. The stationing of a division of ground troops was also planned, presumably the same troops that had defeated the Theology Council in northern Ashab. A carrier group with supporting naval facilities and docks were also to be established to ensure that Jedoria's southern allies were protected by land, sea and air.


Back north within the borders of the Confederation, several meetings took place between government officials regarding their response to the situation developing in Latium. It was agreed that until further information was released or otherwise ascertained, there was little they could do for the moment but wait. The Jedorian embassy in Latium was ordered to report back any information deemed even partially relevant, as intelligence assets in the Empire were minor. The potential involvement of other states in the region had to be weighed and considered; the nationalists in power still had their own domestic concerns to worry about, but that didn't mean ruling out further involvement in Latium completely. It just meant things would have to be taken slowly.

[Lacus Magni]

Pompilius
Anavio, Samarobriva, Latium
14 September 2016

Word had spread quickly of the events in the capital, days past. But with the Senate on recess when t Jason VI Augustus died, nearly all members of the body - except for those that resided in the city - were in their homes. Thankfully for Consul Alexander Pompilius, he was not in the city or he would have been forced to act instead of the choice he now had in front of him.

“What does it say?” Sophia Pompilia, the Consul’s wife asked her husband as he looked at the slip of paper he was handed by his security detail. Born to a lesser line of the noble Tullia family, Sophia had been married to Alexander since 1985, sharing all his electoral victories, schemes, and ploys; she was as much key part in his rise to the Consulship as he had been to himself.

“I’ll give you one guess,” he smiled, removing his glasses from his eyes, placing them on the side table near his chair. He slid the paper over to his wife.

She read the paper with a stoic face, though a smirk grew before she reached the end. “I Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins...titles and titles…” she read the note aloud, glossing over parts. “...hereby do recall Consul Alexander Pompilius and the Senate to Castellum for an emergency meeting of the body...You have forty-eight hours.”

“Confident boy isn’t he?” she smirked.

That worried the Consul. Confident, young monarchs to be don’t make the best allies...or lap dogs. Especially when they have so very little to be confident over. Pompilius didn’t find himself in the highest elected position in Latium by mistake. Careful step upon careful step over a thirty year - from county legislator to head of the Latin Senate - the Consul had successfully bided his time, he wasn’t just about to let some upstart child get in the way. “And heavy handed. Arrogant little shit.”

“You’re not going back are you?”

“God no,” Pompilius stood from his seat and went to pour himself a drink. “This boy isn’t as smart as he thinks he is, that I can tell you. I won’t attach my name to an already sinking ship.” I should just be glad I wasn’t in the capital when the Emperor died.

“Then we need to make sure your senators don’t go to him,” Sophia said, turning in her seat to look towards her husband.

“I’ll get the word out,” he nodded, twisting the drink around in his hand. “They’ll be obedient.”

“Has there been any word from Elias?”

“None since before he said he was leaving the city,” Alexander spoke of one of his most loyal staffers and looked at his watch. “That was...nearly seven hours ago. But we knew things would go dark.”

“And we know he has to be going to Adrianople? There’s no other feasible place for him to succeed.”

“That’s even if he’s still alive. He could be as dead as his father for all we know, Sophia” Pompilius walked with his drink back over to his wife and sat on her chair’s armrest.

Sophia looked to her husband and took the drink from him, sipping from it before he took it back from her. “What if this doesn’t work, the last few years would have all been for nothing,” she said to him while looking to their lit fireplace. “I don’t like how out of our control this is, Alexander.”

“Nor do I, but let’s say the he’s dead and Elias doesn’t get to him. Who would most people turn to, a cocky and idiotic teenager or the leader of the Latin Senate?” Alexander said before sipping from his glass. “No matter what Prince Michael claims to be, no one can argue that I wield constitutional authority. That is a fact, no?”

His wife nodded, taking his drink and sipping from it yet again. She looked out the open door of the study and into the hallway. It was odd for her not to see their Praetorian security detail waiting around every corner as they had grown accustom to even since Alexander was appointed People’s Tribune over a year ago. But it also meant that they had free reign over their movements. “It is.”

The Consul looked towards the fireplace, watching the flames dance. “So long as I wield that power...well there are many ways His Majesty Michael would come to fear me.”

“What of those other children?” Sophia rose and stood behind the chair she once sat in, placing her hands on its back.

“Which?” he questioned, turning his head over his shoulder.

“His baseborn progeny. Surely propping one of them up on the throne is a more prudent alternative.”

“Perhaps, we want there to be a mess, but too many players is dangerous. Until we know for certain our first plans have failed it would only be a useless exercise of time.”

“We should keep it in mind,” she took one final sip from his glass before giving it back to him; he nodded. “I’m going to get some rest. And so should you, it won’t do you well to stay awake for hours on end. We both need to stay sharp.”

Alexander leaned over the chair and kissed his wife. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Don’t keep me waiting.”

The Consul watched her walked out of the room, leaving the door open behind her. When she was no longer in his line of sight, he found himself sitting down on the couch in his study. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table in front of it and slipped off his shoes. Turning on the television, he skimmed passed a multitude of channels, from sporting events to local news to films, finally landing on the national and cable news networks. First he watched LBC News - the largest cable news network in Latium.

They had their cameras focused on the Palatine Hill, particularly the Palace of Augustus. The palace complex was surrounded by members of the Scholae Palatinae armed in armor with a number of armored vehicles with worn out Praetorian Guard emblems and symbols faintly visible on them. Though the scene appeared to be calm that is until a cameraman wandered too close to the guards and was promptly pushed back, with the camera, itself, falling to the ground.

The commentators weren’t saying anything of value, at least in his mind, so he changed the channel and landed on EPT - the largest Greek language news outlet in the country. He found this more interesting. The commentary here was focused on the Greeks naturally, talking with now Greek National Party Senator Leon Dalassenos. Turn coat, Pompilius thought watching his former Century Tribune talk on TV of the repercussions surrounding accepting the will of Jason Augustus based on the Edict of Felix II. The Greeks never cared for Felix II or Felix I for that matter. Not that I blame them. It was obvious to the Consul that some Greeks would reject any argument that started with those names, seeing as they respectively started and finished the Latin conquest a thousand or so years ago.

But he didn’t find what he was looking for on EPT, so he turned back to LBC. His drink was nearly empty now, and he was fading in and out of sleep. Before his eyes finally closed for the night, the last thing he saw on the TV was the channel quickly cutting from close ups of the palace complex to the studio and the hosts.

He felt comfortable in his sleep for a time, no dreams, no nightmares - a welcome prospect. All of the sudden, he began to see faces; faces of people from his past. First he saw Justin Seius - the former disgraced Consul. Pompilius tried to speak to him, but whenever he moved his lips, no words came out. “Justin,” he kept trying to say, but still to no avail. While initially he was confused as to where he was, it soon became clear he was in his office back in Castellum - the Consul’s office. It was much bleaker than usual, and dimly lit.

“I told you this would happen, Alex,” Seius shouted at him as he was seated behind the Consul’s desk. “If you told me I could control it and this wouldn’t have become such a mess.”

“That’s my desk,” Pompilius tried to say, but again, no words came from his mouth as Seius disappeared.

Then who he saw frightened him more than anything he could have possibly imagined. It was Jordana Lucceia, who was Chancellor of the Exchequer when he was Minister of State for the same office. Lucceia’s name became notorious in 1998 when the Group of Ten finance scandal was first leaked to the press, her being dubbed the ring leaders.

This time, however, Pompilius was behind the Consul’s desk and sitting in his chair with his arms on the arm rests. When he saw her, he jumped back from the desk in a fright. She was standing opposite him across the desk, but when he stood from his chair, she appeared right in front of him. Where before it wasn’t true, now she had blood trailing down the side of her head. She went to grab Pompilius by the neck, but then he woke up.

“Alexander,” his wife shook him by the shoulder just as his eyes were opening. He had a worried look on his face, but quickly tried to recover. “Look.”

She looked at the television, turning the volume up, hoping to draw his attention to it. The screen - still on LBC News - still focused on the pundits and commentators but this time they were actually reporting on new news. The headline read “Breaking: Prince Constantine Alive.” The bottom line was filled with bits of news, stating that the Prince was safe and secure, as were his siblings; that the Prince was meeting with top military officials in the area; and that he was about to make an important announcement.

“He’s alive…” Pompilius grinned, and his wife smiled.

“I knew Elias would come through,” Sophia smiled at her husband and sat on the couch next to him.

Don’t jinx us now, Sophia. “Let’s hope.”

The commentators began discussing the accusations Prince Michael had thrown against his older brother and against his cousin Leot. “I’m most interested to see what the Prince has to say of the accusations that he and Leo Gentry kidnapped the younger Imperial children. It’s a huge accusation, and from what we’ve seen from Michael VIII is that he has been very open regarding his desire to have his family safely returned to their home.”

The Consul, nor his wife were convinced of that. Pompilius had spoken with Constantine on a number of occasions, and he - just as anyone in upper echelon of the government - knew that this boy was the one their father desired to see on the throne after him. He didn’t think it in his nature that the Prince would steal away family like that - too much honor in that boy. Even then, Pompilius wondered how long it would take for the channel to simply go dark and be cut off. Whether that happened or not would indicate just how in control Michael was from Castellum.

The cameras cut from the LBC studio and now focused on a podium with the Imperial Coat of Arms, but still no indication of location. The location shown was as still as it was quiet, with nobody standing at the podium. “Nothing’s happening,” Pompilius stated the obvious.

Just then Prince Constantine walked across the screen to stand behind the podium, with Lord Chief Justice Funar, and a few others flanked at each of his sides. Pompilius’ eyes lit up, as did his wife’s, as both focused their eyes on the television.

“Good evening,” Prince Constantine spoke proudly, almost propping himself up tall and looking like a monarch. “Three nights ago, my younger brother announced to the nation and to the world that my father had passed away. He wasted no time in issuing a statement alerting all of such news and that I had fled from the capital with my younger brothers and sisters. That much is true, and they are safe in an undisclosed location. What is not true, however, is that my brothers, my sisters, my grandmother Diana Augusta, my step-mother Empress Marsella, and my cousins were chased out under threat of death.”

“The media has reported a great many things since the passing of my father. My brother props himself up as Emperor, a position upon which he has no claim.”

Constantine stood aside from the podium and allowed for the Lord Chief Justice to stand behind it. In his hands he held a metal box that resembled a large safety deposit box. On it’s side were a series of numbers and letters that were nearly unintelligible from the other side of the television. Pompilius recognized some of the other individuals in frame; Prefect Santella, and the Mayor of Adrianople. Having the Mayor there seemed like a poor decision to the Consul, though he said nothing of it to his wife yet.

As Lord Chief Justice Funar stood behind the podium, an aid in civilian clothes approached to hold the metal box while Funar unlatched the top and pulled it up. Inside was an envelope; he held it out displaying the seals of Jason VI Augustus and the Supreme Court. “In my hands I hold the last will and testament of our late Emperor, Jason VI Augustus,” Funar stated before breaking the Imperial Seal and pulling the papers from the envelope and showing the cover of the document, which was embossed with the same Imperial seal.

While watching this unfold on the television, Pompilius and his wife sat on the edges of their seats, unsure of if or even when the feed would cut. If Michael had the ability he would have done it by now, he thought.

“The Last Will and Testament of Gaius Claudius Nero Iason Felix Alexander Caesar Augustus,” he read the first line, then skimmed to the relevant sections - presumably. “...My powers shall pass to my eldest born son, Gaius Claudius Nero Constantinus Felix Aeneas, after my death, based upon the laws laid out in the Acts of Succession of 1956.”

“Brilliant,” Sophia said to her husband and patted his back.

But Funar didn’t stop reading. “...And that I can no longer deny and deprive a child the knowledge of knowing who their father is, and I hereby acknowledge my parentage of George, Count Vinovium and Alexander, Lord Iluro by their mother Honoria Caprenia, 6th Marchioness of Espo.”

“Jesus,” Pompilius’ jaw dropped. He didn’t think to read it before hand.

The Consul turned the volume up yet again as Constantine took to the podium. He looked shocked, but composed himself well enough to finish out his address. “Let all know that my father did not select Michael as his heir. According to the will of my father and the laws of the land, my brother Michael is a usurper and pretender to the Throne. From this day forth let it be known that I will use all means necessary to see the laws of the nation upheld and my father’s will achieved - by all its provisions. Let all true men and women know the truth and remember their oaths of office, citizenship and peerage ‘I swear by Almighty God that I will be faithful and bear true allegiance to His Imperial Majesty Emperor Jason VI Augustus, his heirs and successors, according to law. So help me God.’

“I do this day lay claim to the Latin throne and to preserve the laws of the Senate and People of Latium,” the Prince said into the camera before the screen went black and cut back to the LBC News studio.

“Seems we should reconsider what you said of those boys,” the Consul said to his wife while she smiled back to him.

[The Demphorian Kingdoms]

7:45 PM
15 September 2016
Presidential House
Ormania, Demphor

"...so Constantine is alive, that's what I hear? Hold on, where am I forgetting my manners Mr. Secretary, sit and eat with me!"

President Winsdor and Secretary of State Dermot sat down for dinner. It was still sunny outside with the last days of summer slowly dwindling, and the two had set up for a quick meal on the patio of the House. Both of them grabbed sandwiches and began to talk.

"So Constantine has provided us evidence of his claim?" asked Winsdor. "Our position was to maintain neutrality for as long as possible, and if the a claim was made to the throne other than Michael, we would assume that Michael took power by force, which it appears he did."

"I fear that's it," said Secretary Dermot, "Michael's government has tried to distance itself towards Constantine getting his hands on a camera and still asserts his claim to the throne, but it remains tense. The issue is the participation of a Latin Armed Forces. As far as the options for a civil conflict are concerned, they could be split to the point of direct confrontation. We believe that a succession war is on the horizon, Mr. President. This could create some humanitarian implications as well. I'm sure that an abrupt declaration of C.P.O. intervention is neither feasible nor advisable, nor do I believe they'd be willing to do anything at all."

"Damn, this turkey is dry," said Winsdor, somewhat disappointed as he plopped the sandwich back on his plate and took a swig of water. "So what you're telling me is that it lies on us to pressure Michael into abdication? We've already mobilized our forces for Operation Leahcim, I don't believe they know that, however. Obviously because we wanted to further assess the situation, but I think it's now time to make our move. Secretary, do you think we should send a very open and honest telegram to the self-proclaimed Emperor of the Latins?"

Dermot shifted in his chair, "I'm not saying I'm comfortable writing an aggressive telegram, but if we're to solve this crisis, I'll do it. What do you want me to say?"

"I would want you to tell Emperor Michael to get the fuck out, for starters," said Winsdor, "not like that though, be nicer and more diplomatic about it."

Dermot grinned, "Alright Mr. President, I'll see what I can do to talk them into accepting a Demphorian military force and to be more aggressive on the crisis."

"Thank you, Mr. Dermot, and now for our next item on the agenda. You have the treaty?" Winsdor asked.

"Yes, Mr. President, the Akai did sign the Treaty, both sections." Dermot reached into his coat pocket and pulled out the sheet of paper, presenting the Demphorian-Akai Non-Aggression Pact to the President. The President read it over slowly.

"This is excellent, Mr. Dermot, truly excellent. I shall present this to the Senate tomorrow morning. Now if you excuse me, I have to consult the King on taking military action, thank you for dinner Mr. Secretary, please rest up and take care."

---

Winsdor's motorcade zipped through the street with a sense of prompt urgency. The dome of the Palace of the Cinarion came into view as it's white stone pointed straight and true into the night sky. Winsdor's cars were cleared to pass through the front entrance. His car pulled up slowly to the main door, which were large and made of oak. In front of the door stood the King, who was waiting to receive the President.

President Winsdor exited his car as he was greeted by flashes and clicks from the Demphorian press, who captured the moment as the President bowed to King Robert and the King received him and shook his hand. They turned to the press and posed for a picture of them shaking hands, and then proceeded to walk inside.

Robert led the President down to the hallway. "I hope your ride over was well?" Robert asked.

“It was fine,” the President said, “I hope it didn’t have to be about the subject of Latium,” the President said.

“Yes, I understand. Michael was a lying bastard, he lied to my face. He killed the Emperor himself, Constantine was meant to be the King and Michael attempted to block it.”

“Just as George?” asked the President.

Robert stopped walking briefly, “I haven’t the slighted idea what you’re referencing to, Mr. President,” he said challengingly.

“Of course,” the President said apologetically. “Let’s forget the matter.”

“Let’s continue,” Robert said.

They continued to walk down the hallway. “The House of Claudius,” sighed Robert. “The House of Thérørdon married into the House of Ancia when Alexandria, Princess of Cumberland married to Emperor Theophylactus III of the Latins. She was Empress of the Latins for 3 years before her husband abdicated for stronger leadership. One of Alexandria married into the House of Claudius I believe.”

“Are you a distant cousin to Michael and Constantine?” asked the President.

“Bloody hell, I believe so, Alexandria’s children married into House Claudius, so I believe so. ” Robert smiled, “We’ve lost contact over so many years. The last time I remember seeing our Latin relatives… ...must have been at Eric’s funeral.”

“Was Constantine present?” asked the President.

“Possibly, I can’t remember. Emperor Nathan of Ghant greatly enjoyed talking to us about taking Ghantish wives.”

“Ah, yes, Emperor Nathan,” grinned the President.

Robert paused, “Constantine is a good man. And a smart man, fit to be Emperor. I know what you’ve come to ask me for. Yes, if you want to support Constantine do what you must. I see eye to eye with him, I relate to him very much. I shall write to him personally and soon of my support for him.”

“Of course, Your Majesty, thank you.”

[The Demphorian Kingdoms]

---

Official Diplomatic Communiqué of Government of the the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
Oifigeil Dioplòmasach Fios-Oifigeil nà Riaghaltais nà Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís

---

From: The Right Honourable Sylvester Dermot, Secretary of State and Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
To:Office of Michael Augustus, Prince of the Latins

---

Presented to the recipient in the utmost secrecy.

---

Dear Sir,

This Demphorian Government has maintained the closest surveillance of the affairs of the Latin State. Within the past week, unmistakable evidence has established the fact that a series of offensive actions, including murder of Emperor of Jason Augustus and the self-proclamation of his son Michael, is now in full effect in that imprisoned country.

Upon receiving the first preliminary hard information of this nature last night, the Demphorian Cabinet directed that not only our surveillance be stepped up, but a military buildup of Demphorian Forces begin as well. And having now confirmed and completed our evaluation of the evidence and our decision on a course of action, this Government feels obliged to inform you of the position of the Demphorian government and our intent to implore for the complete and total abdication of Michael as Emperor of the Latins.

The characteristics of the actions taken by Michael in seizing power have shocked the international community, and it is in our understanding that your self-proclaimed government has not the justification for the death of Emperor Jason Augustus. With all due respect to the representatives of the government, the Demphorian government must note with conviction that Michael’s claim to the throne serves neither Latium’s moral interests broadly defined nor her national interests narrowly defined. The Cabinet of Demphor, with the backing of the President, must register strong dissent with the aspects of this policy.

The Demphorian government fears a failure to abdicate will be the suppression of democracy in Latium. If the Demphorian government failed to act on the issue, such a lack of action would same time equate bending over backwards to placate the domination of the illegitimate government and to lessen any deservedly negative international public relations impact against them.

This government believes and implores your government to realize this: We shall endeavor so far as in our power lies to preserve and protect international interests in Acheron. This nation is opposed to war. We are also true to our word. Our unswerving objective, therefore, must be to end the government sponsored violence in Latium, and to secure abdication of the leader of the illegitimate government of Latium. As previously stated, the Demphorian government has ordered the immediate mobilization it’s Defense Forces, and, under discretion of the President, would be deployed by all necessary means for the purpose of protecting the international interests from further threats. While this government will do everything in it's power to implore the abdication of Michael as Emperor of the Latins, this cabinet will not respect any lack of action thereof.

If the Latin forces under Michael launches an attack upon the government forces of the Emperor of the Latins, Constantine, or any other country in the northern hemisphere, it will be regarded as an attack by Michael’s Army upon the Kingdom of Demphor, and such an assault will be repelled by any means necessary, including and possibly a full, retaliatory and military response by Demphor upon the aggressor.

From the undersigned,

Sylvester Dermot
Rùnaire na Stàite agus Dàimh-Coimheach
Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís
14 September 2016

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Official Diplomatic Communiqué of Government of the the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
Oifigeil Dioplòmasach Fios-Oifigeil nà Riaghaltais nà Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís

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From: The Right Honourable Sylvester Dermot, Secretary of State and Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
To: The Right Honourable Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

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Presented to the recipient in the utmost secrecy.

---

Dear Sir,

The Demphorian government wishes to continue its communications with the Jedian Government on the matter of the Latium based on new information presented to the international community. As we have said in our first communication, if unmistakable evidence establishes the fact that Emperor Michael of the Latins did usurp the succession laws of the Latin Empire, the President of Demphor would deem it necessary to take all appropriate actions to act on the situations.

Based on the last communication, I therefore suggest that it would be quite impossible for Demphor to remain a spectator of the Latin conflict. I think a direct understanding between your Government and Ormania possible and desirable, and as we already communicated to you, my Government is continuing its exercises to promote it. Of course military measures on the part of Demphor would be looked upon by Michael’s government as a calamity, however, military action by the Demphorian government appears inevitable at this time regardless.

Responsibility for the safety of Demphorian interests forces preventive measures of defence upon us. In our endeavours to maintain peace Latium this government has gone to the utmost limit possible, but at this time, will be forced to act and requests assistance thereof.

From the undersigned,

Sylvester Dermot
Rùnaire na Stàite agus Dàimh-Coimheach
Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís
14 September 2016

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Official Diplomatic Communiqué of Robert I, King of Demphor, Élbannin & Duís
Oifigeil Dioplòmasach Fios-Oifigeil nà Roibeard I, Àrd-Rìgh nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís

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From: His Royal Majesty, Robert Calvin-Frenswick Thérordøn, High-King of the Demphorians, Lord of Élbannin, Great King of Duís and King consort to the Queen the Dewedish. Conquerer of the Dûrs, the Dessex, the Argøsas and Westflørdés. Protector of the Sea and and Lord Protector of the Realms of Demphor by the Grace of God
To: Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins

---

Presented to the recipient in the utmost secrecy.

---

Dearest Cousin,

I hope you are well. In this serious moment, I appeal to you to offer you a guarantee of support. An ignoble war has been declared upon your country by your brother. The Government has been overwhelmed by the pressure forced upon us and be forced to take measures which will lead to our involvement in the upcoming conflict.

The unscrupulous agitation that has occurred has resulted in the outrageous crime, to which your father has fallen a victim. The spirit that led to your late Emperor's death still dominates the Demphorian country. You will doubtless agree with me that we both, you and me, have a common interest as well as all Sovereigns to insist that all the persons morally responsible for the dastardly murder should receive their deserved punishment. In this case politics plays no part at all.

I hope you fully understand how difficult it is for our Government to face the drift of public opinion. Therefore, with regard to the hearty and tender friendship which binds us both from long ago with firm ties, I am exerting my utmost influence to direct the Demphorian Defense Forces to deal straightly to assist your cause in any way I can. I hope that you will welcome my efforts and we will smooth over difficulties that may still arise.

May God be with you,

Robert
Àrd-Rìgh nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís
15 September 2016

[New Edom]

The New Edomite Embassy

The Ambassador, Vice-Admiral Matthias Randronoth, came from an ancient family and had served witht he fleet, on the senior staff at the Ministry of Defense, and as Governor of Haran before the 1st Civil War. A midle aged man approaching old age, he kept himself in good shape by practicing shekinah, the New Edomite hand to hand fighting style originally practiced during the 200 or so years of Cornellian rule by warriors practicing their arts in secret. It involved a lot of disarming, throwing and dodging and when combined with a blade or a boxing style could be very unpleasant to receive. However the Ambassador, who was known as "No Shot" for his curious lack of actual combat experience in spite of 3 years of civl war and many other conflicts, reflected that he'd never serious hit anyone. His luck was never with him; if he was commanding a ship and it was ordered into action, it would either be over before he arrived or there'd be technical malfunctions or something.

It was not that he'd never actually served usefully. He was considered excellent at staff and administrativer work, was a good planner for military operations or indeed any other kind of complex planning, was cool headed in crisis, but he suspected that he'd been sent to Latium because it was hoped that just by being there, nothing would happen.

He was toweling off after a vigorous bout with the armsmaster of the embasy and two other staff when he was met in the hall by Colonel Timon Brero, a craggy faced Council Police officer with an eyepatch wearing the blac parade dress uniform of his service. "Excellency, you wanted to see me about briefing you on our latest intelligence.."

"Yes of course," said Randronoth. "My office."

While Randronoth's servants helped him out of his athletic gear, helped him scrub down in the shower-bath, massaged and dried him and then reclothed him in an elegant robe, Brero waited and lit a cigarillo, and then when Randronoth was ready they enjoyed some mint tea with honey and some delicious halvah and other dainties. There was no hurry after all, and Brero's demeanor emphasized this.

"Well sir," said Brero, fidgeting with his eyepatch a bit, "It seems that the Praetorian Guards had a fight with the Scholae, very nasty business. Fortunately the Emperor claimant was not harmed but the people the Praetorians were protecting got away. We may assume tha tthey are the asassins. Meanwhile there is this rumoured will which supposedly makes Prince Constantine the Emperor."

"Has anyone seen Prince Constantine?" asked Randronoth, wiping his mouth.

"No, sir, not a peep,"' said Brero. "I think it's pretty clear from our end that Empror Michael is the new Emperor. There's still a curfew...that could hurt the Latins in future matches, or could make them leaner and hungrier, who can say?"

"If you could pick the Cup winners you'd be a real intelligence officer," said Randronoth with a chuckle. "very well, Timon, thank you very much. Would you be kind enough to let Count Seekron know I wish to see him? We might as well select which draft of recognition we want to recommend to Fineberg."

"As you like sir," replied Colonel Brero, rising and bowing.

[Jedoria]

The Jedorian embassy in Latium had been ordered by the Jedorian Government to maintain constant communication in order to receive updates on the situation in the Empire as soon as possible. Latium was considered a quiet posting for the diplomatic corps, and Ambassador David Manole did little to break that mold. The representative of the Confederation for five years now was comfortable in the small complex that served as the primary means of communication between the Latin Empire and the Jedorian Confederation. The serenity of the quiet posting was broken when the first reports of violence from the Palace of Augustus. Since then orders from Strana Mechty had been clear; keep on top of the situation and report any changes or developments immediately. The Confederation was still not entirely sure how to proceed; presumably like most foreign states it had assumed that Constantine was the heir and was surprised to learn that Michael was apparently the next Emperor.

As the situation developed however the details began to reveal a more complex picture. The ascension of Michael to Emperor of the Latins was not entirely assured, there apparently was a deal of legal dispute regarding the succession, and controversy over the surprise selection of Michael could be seen across the Empire. The Jedorian embassy staff tuned all of their televisions and radios to available news sources while their own intelligence assets attempted to scour for new information.

Then came Prince Constantine's announcement; the missing man was in fact alive and challenging his brother's claim to the throne, apparently having acquired a will that verified the truth behind Constantine's claim as well as revealing some other factoids about the former Emperor Jason that were apparently new to more than just the Jedorian staff. Regardless of the more personal details, the fact was that not only was Constantine alive, the presumed heir was now challenging his brother's claim to the throne.

Ambassador Manole relayed this back to Foreign Minister Rotaru in Strana Mecthy, highlighting the controversy regarding the supposed ascension of Michael and the now competing claim from Constantine.

“It's something we didn't expect admittedly, but it does make sense when you think about it.” Manole was explaining. “Reports of gunfire at the Palace, the sudden disappearance of Constantine and several members of the royal family. Everyone was after all expecting Constantine, so Michael's claim seemed off from the start, and this just all about confirms that foul play was involved.”

“Do you have confirmation that all this is true?” Rotaru asked, hundreds of miles away back in Jedoria.

“No, but it fits the profile. The lockdowns, the fighting, the controversy, the recall, the curfews, all of it lines up pretty damn well with the idea of Michael attempting to seize control of the throne.” Manole said honestly.

“I see.” Rotaru replied, pausing for a moment to consider the situation at hand. “The Demphorians have contacted us as well, informing us essentially of their intentions to bring military force to the table in response to the situation. Tell me, how likely do you believe armed conflict is?”

Now it was Manole's time to fall silent for some time before he replied. “I'm not sure. It's quite possible, but it's been some time since Latium last experienced major civil unrest. If that's the metric however, things could get bad. The Social War was pretty nasty business.”

“There are other issues as well.” Rotaru pointed out. “Latium is in close proximity to our trade partners in Novitera and Tericio, and the Latin-Noviteran strait is a major route for trade throughout Acheron. A serious conflict in Latium could potentially harm our commercial interests.”

“What shall I do then?” Manole asked.

“Nothing for now.” Rotaru answered firmly. “As long as Michael remains in assumed power, making any major moves alone could prove dangerous. Best to let others act first then determine our course of action based on the reactions. For now continue to monitor the situation. Alert us of any new developments.”

“Will do. Until next time.” Manole replied, before hanging up the encrypted satellite phone in his personal office.

Rotaru then met with his associates in the cabinet and highlighted his primary concerns; the possibility of open conflict in Latium seemed high, and given Demphorian intentions it could easily spiral into war. If that did occur, it would be dangerously close to two major Jedorian trading partners and threaten regional stability. At the very least, the Confederation would need to act in the interest of protecting it's commercial assets. Rotaru pointed out at the moment that the Confederation was not picking sides, but warned that if the situation escalated further, it would be difficult to avoid getting drawn in. Right now the priority was protecting Jedorian interests.

The Duke agreed and authorized Field Marshall Bianca Cernea to begin assembling naval and aerial forces that could be deployed to protect shipping and trade in the Latin-Noviteran Strait, and if necessary ensure further protection of Jedorian commercial interests. The Confederate Navy began organizing ships available for tasking, coordinating between the different task forces to determine what could be sent and how fast.

To: Sylvester Dermot, Secretary of State and Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Latium
Encryption: Highest

Dear Secretary,

Thank you or the notification on the actions taken by your government in response to the situation developing in Latium. Given Demphorian ties to the Empire, the Confederation does not find the actions of your nation to be unreasonable nor worthy of suspicion, and therefore my government finds no reason to contest the actions of your government.

As you have expressed a desire for, it is my intention to speak openly and transparently about the Confederation's intentions. At this time, our involvement in Latium remains primarily organized around gathering intelligence on the situation, given our lack of strong ties to the Empire, we have much to learn before overt action is taken. That being said, it is clear that a possible succession conflict between the Princes Michael and Constantine seems likely.

Latium's geographic position renders it nearby to several major Jedorian trading partners, including Tericio and our allies in Novitera. The potential for armed conflict to break out in Latium could easily lead the fighting to spread outside Latin borders, and therefore the Confederation must express it's concerns regarding the safety of our commercial interests in the area. With this in mind, it is the intention of my government to dispatch naval and air forces to the area to ensure the continued free flowing of trade to the Confederation and our trade partners. In the interest of mutual cooperation between our governments, my Duke has agreed to relay information regarding the status of our forces to your government in order to prevent any possible confrontation between us should you indeed deploy armed forces to Latium.

At this time, my government does not hold an official position regarding the rightful heir to the Latin throne. If your government has information relevant to determining the rightful future Emperor, it's revelation to us would be greatly appreciated. If you or your government have any concerns, questions, or comments regarding my nation's involvement in this whole affair, please do not refrain from contacting me.

Kind Regards,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederation

The Confederate Navy was tasked with gathering together a force of ships capable of protecting Jedoria's commercial interests. However it was also considered the possibility that these ships would have to intervene in the potential brewing conflict in Latium. The words of the Demphorian government had done much to convince the Confederation that fighting was rapidly approaching, and so the Jedorian Navy set about preparing for this new mission. Two destroyers, the Furious Redemption and the Tranquil Composure, and three frigates, the Commitment and Patience, Primordium, and the Kypsela were available for immediate tasking and orders were sent to their commanders regarding impending movements. If need be, they would be supported be more vessels depending on how the situation developed.

[Lacus Magni]

Constantine
Adrianople
15 September 2016

Adrianople was the ancient seat of the Nero, the most prominent and wealthy branch of the Claudii family. When Felix Claudius first invaded what is now Latium over a thousand years ago, he gave his son and future king, Felix II, domain over Adrianople. It served as the home of the Crown Prince during the Claudii occupation of the throne and later to the Duke of Adrianople, whom Constantine and his family trace their ancestry, this was their home - the Domi Agrippae. The city was built and made great by Constantine’s ancestors, and now it would serve as his capital until he could reclaim Castellum.

Constantine and his growing host arrived at the city late the night before under the cover of dark. Initially they left Castra Felicis by helicopter, flying to a nearby Praetorian airstrip Rutupiae where they refueled and gathered more supplies. Legate Vonones urged Constantine to take use of the plane for himself and fly to Adrianople. “It would be faster, and far safer,” Legate Amatius tried to sway Constantine.

“My family should have priority,” he replied to Amatius in a strong tone. These men wish to make me the Emperor; an Emperor wouldn’t act so selfishly,, he thought - though perhaps naively.

Once his family was on the plane and headed towards safety, Constantine and his growing force began to continue north. He and the other VIPs flew ahead of whatever ground forces they managed pick up along the way and while passing Praetorian bases. The center of the country, between Castellum and Adrianople, contained limited military personnel with only a handful of bases scattered throughout, but the group came upon one near the Osrone-Greater Adrianople county border, led by a commander Peltrasius.

The commander had little to offer in the way of news that they hadn’t already heard themselves, but he pledged himself to Constantine’s cause. It was the first victory of the night for Constantine’s Imperial host, and in a key position at that. While his advisors has anticipated some level of Scholae resistance along the way, it wasn’t until they passed through Oea in Greater Adrianople that they found anything they couldn’t sneak around or quickly silence. A brief battle occurred - if one could call it that - but it was near Oea that Lord Chief Justice Funar linked up with them.

Justice Funar couldn’t name the person or group that had helped him escape from the city at such an opportune time, nor how he came to know that he must bring Jason Augustus’ will with him. Constantine didn’t think to ask questions, nor did it matter.

It was near 10:00 pm of the 14th when they arrived in Adrianople, and the mayor had met Constantine at the old Silver Gate. Mayor Gala would accompany Constantine to the ancient Claudii estate where he would be on hand for the announcement of his father’s will.

“You shouldn’t have let him read that part,” Legate Vonones told Constantine as the new ruler snapped back into the conversation.

“There was no way to know that was in the will,” Santella spoke to defend Constantine. “It is no fault of the Emperor.”

“Exactly my point! We should have read it beforehand. Only because we didn’t does this mess have the potential to grow out of control. What if the boy George…” Vonones grew angry and animated with every word he spoke.

“And what would you have me do? Pick and choose the parts of my Father’s will I should follow or throw to the wayside. People would have seen right through that and what more that I was a liar the second we release it online. Not only is it wrong, but I lose any and all legitimacy I just gained!” Constantine spoke with strength in his voice.

“Aye, that’s exactly what I would have had you do. Your brother wouldn’t have given a second thought,” Vonones said with a look on his face that he may have gone just too far.

“Careful, Legate,” Constantine said in his Emperor voice.

“Not only do we have that little shit in Castellum to worry over, we have the possibility of some baseborn fuckers rising up for a chance at glory.”

“Everyone heard what the Funar said. Constantine is the heir, by every law of Latium,” Santella spoke to try and calm down his subordinate. “Nothing else matters.”

“Nothing else matters if everybody plays by the rules,” Vonones wouldn’t drop the issue. “The death of the Emperor and your brother’s actions are clear evidence nobody is playing by the rules.”

“That’s enough, Legate Vonones. What happened is in the past and there is nothing to be done about it,” Constantine spoke up in a strong, stern voice to his Legate. “Copies of my Father’s will have been sent to the press. The time has come to choose, and no man will be able to claim ignorance as an excuse.”

“When they see your Father’s will they will see there is only one choice, Caesar,” General Ennia, a recent arrival in Constantine’s court had come to him from Lugdunum in county Lusitania. Ennia was a recently retired general and former instructor at Olympia Military Academy. When he first reached Constantine he offered to see to it that the cadets at the Academy were enlisted, though Constantine refused.

“Let us hope, General Ennia,” Constantine stated as he stood and looked at the table holding the map of Latium. Atop the map were various markers and troop placements.

“I don’t suspect your brother will simply bend his knee at the news, Caesar,” Legate Amatius told the young Emperor.

“Likely not; that was never his way,” Constantine mused as he stared at the tabletop map. My enemy is my brother and my brother is my enemy. “We’ve done well to shore up our lines along Raedavea-12,” he pointed towards the map at the Osrone-Greater Adrianople border where he recently secured the nearby military base. “That and the mountains surrounding there should aid in the strength of the southern line.”

“With portions of the fleet anchored in the county we should be able to prevent any attack by sea. Perhaps we split what we have to secure a footing elsewhere along the coast?” Prefect Santella added to Constantine’s discussion of battle plans. That much was obvious to Constantine, as was Santella’s deficiencies in strategy; he recalled his father telling him of Santella’s prowess as a soldier and a protector.

“I don’t think it wise to begin splitting our forces just yet, Prefect,” Constantine stated, though he looked to his younger brother Peter who sat at the opposite end of the table.

“The fleet should remain near the city,” Legate Vonones agreed with Constantine. He found Vonones to be as abrasive as he was unrelenting, highlighting that he didn’t have a great deal of experience with the Imperial family or nobles for that matter.

An aide walked into the room and handed a slip of paper to Prefect Santella. “Your cousin reached Hellas, Caesar. Captain Fronto says they’ve met his contact and should be meeting with Greek senators and The Doux Palaiologi in the coming days.”

“Good,” Constantine smiled for once before running his hand over his tired face and taking another look at the map.

“If he secures the Hellenes, we’ll make short work of the usurper,” General Ennia said, placing markers on the map near Hellas. “Should we have a modest force where we are in the north, with the Hellenes sweeping towards the capital from the east...he won’t have a chance.”

“Let us pray the Prince Leo knows what he’s doing then,” Legate Vonones added, though Constantine said nothing as much as he wanted.

Again the same aide re-entered the room and handed Prefect Santella two more notes, and another to Constantine. “We have reports that your brother has secured Sorrentia, Cenchreae and the three counties south of Alba through Gela,” he read the first and crumbled it up before opening the second. “...including the fleet anchored near Hierapolis.”

“He must have gotten a hold of the Magister Militum,” Legate Amatius stated as he leaned over the table.

“Impossible, he was very loyal to my Father and would never act against the will,” Constantine told him, though felt a need to consider that possibility. “When I spoke with him last night he said he doesn’t want to get involved.”

“His home is in Castellum,” Santella stated. “We should consider the possibility he’s aiding your brother until we have confirmation otherwise, especially given this news.”

“Aye,” both of his Legates and General Ennia nodded.

“A letter from the Demphorian king,” Constantine stated as he read the note he was handed minutes ago. “...He offers assistance.”

“That's good news then Caesar,” Legate Amatius looked more pleasant at the news, though Constantine could see there as indeed some caution as nations began to reach out. “The Demphorians have always been true friends to the Latins.”

The letter seemed good news on it’s face to Constantine, though he was concerned that perhaps foreigners had managed to entrench certain intelligence operatives within Latium. But he said nothing more on the matter of King Robert’s letter.

Constantine stared at the table and map, his eyes looked tired and it was obvious to everyone - they had all gotten little sleep in the last few days, which was in addition to the newfound stress he was beginning to feel. He looked to the clock on the wall next. “Get some sleep, Caesar. These are long days ahead of us, you’ll need your rest,” Vonones told him while the others nodded.

“Aye,” Santella nodded, walking around the table for a different look of the map marked with important locations. “We’ll send for you should anything happen.”

“Anything at all?” Constantine stated, receiving a nod in approval from Santella. “Some rest would be good if I’m to be out in the city today.”

“Out?” Ennia asked puzzled by the Emperor’s statement.

“Yes out. The people need to see that I’m not cowering in fear behind these walls while I send men and women to their possible death,” Constantine said before leaving the room with his brother Peter. His younger brother didn’t say much of anything since their Father died, or since Constantine demanded he remain at his side. The young Emperor ensured him everything would be alright and he would avenge their father. He walked Peter to his room and then went to his own room.

When he entered his room he unfolded the letter sent by the Demphorian king. Dearest cousin? He looked to the various letters sent from foreign nations, dignitaries and ambassadors. He thought of all the work that was to be done. Why on earth would any man want to be emperor, he thought as he was sitting at the desk now, his eyes trying their hardest to stay open.

“Caesar,” Constantine heard a knock at his door just as he began to open his eyes. One of his Praetorians guarding his door poked their head in the room where the Emperor had been resting his eyes. “Mayor Gala is ready and waiting for you at the main entrance.”

The young emperor rubbed his eyes as he worked to recompose himself, and nodded to his guard. He pushed the notes atop his desk aside and searched his room for his jacket, which was laying across his bed. He threw his blue suit coat over his shoulders and made himself comfortable in it as he exited the room.

His guards walked with him through the artfully adorned halls of his new home. As he stepped close to meeting the Mayor at the main entrance, he looked onto the various paintings of the Dukes over time, with the only Duke having more than one portrait being the 34th Duke, his great-great-grandfather. Down the last remaining flight of stairs the Mayor grew in his vision. He was a plump man, nearly pushing 300 pounds if Constantine was to guess. Having served in his position for nearly twenty years, Mayor Gala was the pre-eminent figure in Adrianople and indeed the entire county of Greater Adrianople, though he did have a reputation for being able to drink. Constantine even remembered seeing the Mayor at his father’s wedding seventeen years and a hundred pounds ago. He nearly drank my uncle under the table that night, he thought.

“Ah, Caesar,” Mayor Gala bowed his head when Constantine appeared next to him at the doorway. Outside the Praetorians used confiscated equipment they discovered along the way or were able to bring with them from Praetorian bases they passed, even a number of vehicles that read Policia Adrianopoli. “Again, I would like to offer my condolences over your father. I promise you all that we have to offer in your efforts to see his will has been achieved.”

“You do my great honor, Mr. Gala,” Constantine nodded and shook the Mayor’s hand, the Mayor was much more firm in his handshake than he would have anticipated. “There’s still much work to do.”

“Aye, there is,” the Mayor smiled as the two men began to walk towards an armored car. “My office has been reaching out to mayoral offices across the county and those surrounding, we’ve seen great success as evidenced by the ease of your travel to the city.”

The two stepped into the car, with Prefect Santella not far behind. Constantine was near to say something in response, but Gala continued talking all his own. “I can’t begin to tell you how important this visit will be to our residents. People are frightened, Caesar. It will do them good to see their true Emperor...lighten things up a bit...normalize if you will.”

They would chat for a little while longer, though Constantine occasionally glanced out the window to see their route to the city center blocked off for the motorcade. Eventually the caravan would come to a stop in front of city hall in the center of Adrianople. The crowd was large, with police struggling to hold the line steady. He heard cheering, but it was muffed. Not until he stepped out of the car was it he understood the scale of what was in front of him. He tried to do what his Father and grandfather would have done, smile, wave, and most of all be brave for the people.

The Emperor moved to approach the crowd of people, but Prefect Santella erred in caution. “I think it’s unwise to get any closer to the crowd, Caesar.”

“The people need to see I’m not afraid, Prefect. If I show them I fear Michael or even them...then what am I even doing this for.” Constantine ignored his Prefect’s advice and approached the crowd held back by the police line. For the most part, the crowd cheered, smiled, and reached out to touch or shake his hand - though some did shout obscenities his way. After sometime, he bid them farewell for the moment, thanking them for coming to city hall and for their support before he walked into City Hall.

[Lacus Magni]

To: Constantine XX of Latium
From: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
Subject: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

Dear Prince,


Let me preface this letter by offering the condolences of the Confederation to not only yourself and your family, but all of the Empire. While death may be an inevitability for our race, the passing from the living to the beyond is not one that should go unnoticed, especially when it involves such men of renown such as your father.

However, recent reports out of Castellum ab Alba have caused some concern among members of my government. While I cannot comment with a great deal of knowledge on the inner workings of the Latin state, it does appear that a concerning situation has developed within the Empire. It was the understanding of myself and several others within my government that it was you that was the presumed successor of your father, rather than your brother who has addressed the international community claiming to be the Emperor. Furthermore, while death can come and go as he pleased, the Latin Empire is a developed state and the age of 52 is rather young when considered passing due to natural causes.

As nation that has recently undergone the pain of the death of our most honorable Duke by terrorism, it is of great concern that there is the possibility of an insurrection within the Latin Empire, especially one from within the royal family itself. However, our knowledge of the ongoing situation is severely lacking. If possible, could you shed further light on the incident currently unfolding in your nation?

Kind Regards,
Dragomir Rotaru, Foreign Minister of the Jedorian Confederaiton

To: Foreign Minister Dragomir Rotaru
From: His Majesty The Emperor of the Latins - Constantine
Subject: Re: Ongoing Situation
Encryption: Highest

---

Minister Rotaru,

First of all, I apologize for the delay of my response, as based on recent reports there has been a great deal of confusion regarding my status of life, as well as claim to my Father’s throne. However, on behalf of my family, I’d like to thank you for the kind words you offered for my father. His death was a completely unforseen tragedy and you are correct in your statement that fifty-two years young is an odd age to die of natural causes. Unfortunately at this time however, there is no way I can refute the validity of that statement. It is my hope that once I regain control of Castellum an official investigation into the death of my father will occur.

I know the death of your Duke not all that long ago worried my father, as his own death now worries me. My recent appearance and television announcement regarding my father’s will is evidence that I am the legitimate ruler of Latium. I do not wish to fight my own brother, but it would be negligent of me not to assert my claim for the throne, as my late father’s will is evidence that my brother holds no regard for the rule of law.

My father and his predecessors always advised good relations with the nations of the world, I wish to make it known that should the present conflict come to war, I have no ill intentions against our neighbors. However, should any nation attempt to seize or otherwise occupy sovereign Latin territory, that action may be construed as an act of war against the Senate and the People of Latium, should they not receive permission from myself prior and may result in hostilities between my forces and those wishing to capitalize on our presume weakness. I hope that we can expect the cooperation of the Jedian government, and fruitful relations in the coming days both during and after the conflict. As always, my offices will remain in contact with you own, and we hope that any and all communications with the illegitimate government in Castellum and your government are ceased.

Sincerely,
Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins

To His Imperial Majesty Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins
From Dauphin Audric of Vannois, Crown Prince and Duke of Saint-Nazaire
On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
High Encryption

Emperor Constantine,

It is with heavy heart that I offer my own and the Emperor Charles's condolences on the death of your respected father, Emperor Jason Augustus. He was a just and godly man, a great Emperor and a friend of Vannois. I do not wish to distract you in this difficult time, so just let it be known that the Empire offers her sincerest condolences. We wish you the best of luck, and offer assistance in whatever you may need; Castellum and Saint-Nazaire are, as ever, friends.

Signed,
Dauphin Audric, Crown Prince of Vannois and Duke of Saint Nazaire

To: Dauphin Audric of Vannois, Crown Prince and Duke of Saint-Nazaire
From: His Majesty The Emperor of the Latins - Constantine
Subject: Re: On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
Encryption: Highest

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Your Highness,

Thank you for your kind words on the passing of my father. However, even graver news continues to plague the Latin people. As you may have no doubt already seen, I recently came into possession of my Father’s will that was smuggled out of the Supreme Court chambers by Lord Chief Justice Comitas Funar. While an illegal act to remove my Father’s will, the information showcased in the will demonstrates my brother has no valid claim to the throne.

I hope that your grandfather’s government will treat him as the usurper he has shown himself to be. As our nations have enjoied warm relations since each our nations independence, I wish to let you know that I am working diligently to ensure that the Hellenic counties - those that border Vannois - remain loyal to the Crown. It is my belief that I will have support of the Greeks in short time. Hopefully this will allow little to no violence reaching your borders.

I know you care deeply for my sister and she deeply for you. You should know that Selene has elected to remain in Castellum with my brother for reasons I cannot explain. I wish I could have brought her with me to safety, though I unfortunately could not. I cannot say how my brother will treat her for the duration of her time in Castellum, I’d like to believe he would not harm his own flesh and blood, as Selene was always the closest to him of all out of our siblings.

As I continue to hold my court in Adrianople, I wish to make it clear that I have every intention of seeing law of Latium properly upheld in every regard, including succession. Should things escalate to the level of war, I may be forced to remove my brother from his seat by any means at my disposal. Our nations have enjoyed a meaningful alliance for so long as I can recall, I hope that we can continue to rely on our friends in this endeavor. I hope that any and all communications with the illegitimate government in Castellum and your government are ceased.


Sincerely,
Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins

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Official Diplomatic Communiqué of Robert I, King of Demphor, Élbannin & Duís
Oifigeil Dioplòmasach Fios-Oifigeil nà Roibeard I, Àrd-Rìgh nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís

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From: His Royal Majesty, Robert Calvin-Frenswick Thérordøn, High-King of the Demphorians, Lord of Élbannin, Great King of Duís and King consort to the Queen the Dewedish. Conquerer of the Dûrs, the Dessex, the Argøsas and Westflørdés. Protector of the Sea and and Lord Protector of the Realms of Demphor by the Grace of God
To: Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins

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Presented to the recipient in the utmost secrecy.

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Dearest Cousin,

I hope you are well. In this serious moment, I appeal to you to offer you a guarantee of support. An ignoble war has been declared upon your country by your brother. The Government has been overwhelmed by the pressure forced upon us and be forced to take measures which will lead to our involvement in the upcoming conflict.

The unscrupulous agitation that has occurred has resulted in the outrageous crime, to which your father has fallen a victim. The spirit that led your brother to murder your own Emperor still dominates the Demphorian country. You will doubtless agree with me that we both, you and me, have a common interest as well as all Sovereigns to insist that all the persons morally responsible for the dastardly murder should receive their deserved punishment. In this case politics plays no part at all.

I hope you fully understand how difficult it is for our Government to face the drift of public opinion. Therefore, with regard to the hearty and tender friendship which binds us both from long ago with firm ties, I am exerting my utmost influence to direct the Demphorian Defense Forces to deal straightly to assist your cause in any way I can. I hope that you will welcome my efforts and we will smooth over difficulties that may still arise.

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May God be with you,

Robert
Àrd-Rìgh nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís
15 September 2016

To: His Majesty Robert, King of Demphor
From: His Majesty The Emperor of the Latins - Constantine
Subject: Re: On the death of Emperor Jason Augustus
Encryption: Highest

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Your Majesty,

While the actions of my brother in the last few days continues to worry me, as does the death of my father, I am glad to know that we can continue to count on the Kingdom of Demphor as true friends to the Senate and People of Latium. When I had my Father’s previously unsealed will read live on the broadcast, it was my hope that such an act would be irrefutable evidence of my brother’s status as a usurper.

He has shown little intention of relinquishing his seat in Castellum, and as such I may be forced to remove him by any means at my disposal. My hope is to continue to gather support domestically, and at the present time it appears the be an initial success. While my brother asserts that the Praetorian Guard has betrayed the Crown, they have remained loyal to the proper order of succession and the laws of Latium; they continue to pledge support to my claim. It is believed my brother has gained the loyalty of the gendarmerie Scholae Palatinae, with his support concentrated on Greater Alba and many of the southern counties surrounding it.

I would be glad to accept support from the Demphorians in our struggle to reinstitute law and order in Castellum. It is clear that I intend to make the city of Adrianople the location of my court until such a time Castellum is restored. I would, however, like to make it clear that any military action on Latin soil, whether seizure, occupation or otherwise occur without my authorization or approval may result in hostilities between my forces and those wishing to capitalize on our presume weakness. My office will continue to speak with yours in regards to any Demphorian support you wish to offer.

Sincerely,
Constantine XX, Emperor of the Latins

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Official Diplomatic Communiqué of Government of the the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
Oifigeil Dioplòmasach Fios-Oifigeil nà Riaghaltais nà Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís

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From: The Right Honourable Sylvester Dermot, Secretary of State and Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Demphor, Élbannin and Duís
To:Office of Michael Augustus, Prince of the Latins

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Presented to the recipient in the utmost secrecy.

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Dear Sir,

This Demphorian Government has maintained the closest surveillance of the affairs of the Latin State. Within the past week, unmistakable evidence has established the fact that a series of offensive actions, including murder of Emperor of Jason Augustus and the self-proclamation of his son Michael, is now in full effect in that imprisoned country.

Upon receiving the first preliminary hard information of this nature last night, the Demphorian Cabinet directed that not only our surveillance be stepped up, but a military buildup of Demphorian Forces begin as well. And having now confirmed and completed our evaluation of the evidence and our decision on a course of action, this Government feels obliged to inform you of the position of the Demphorian government and our intent to implore for the complete and total abdication of Michael as Emperor of the Latins.

The characteristics of the actions taken by Michael in seizing power have shocked the international community, and it is in our understanding that your self-proclaimed government has not the justification for the death of Emperor Jason Augustus. With all due respect to the representatives of the government, the Demphorian government must note with conviction that Michael’s claim to the throne serves neither Latium’s moral interests broadly defined nor her national interests narrowly defined. The Cabinet of Demphor, with the backing of the President, must register strong dissent with the aspects of this policy.

The Demphorian government fears a failure to abdicate will be the suppression of democracy in Latium. If the Demphorian government failed to act on the issue, such a lack of action would same time equate bending over backwards to placate the domination of the illegitimate government and to lessen any deservedly negative international public relations impact against them.

This government believes and implores your government to realize this: We shall endeavor so far as in our power lies to preserve and protect international interests in Acheron. This nation is opposed to war. We are also true to our word. Our unswerving objective, therefore, must be to end the government sponsored violence in Latium, and to secure abdication of the leader of the illegitimate government of Latium. As previously stated, the Demphorian government has ordered the immediate mobilization it’s Defense Forces, and, under discretion of the President, would be deployed by all necessary means for the purpose of protecting the international interests from further threats. While this government will do everything in it's power to implore the abdication of Michael as Emperor of the Latins, this cabinet will not respect any lack of action thereof.

If the Latin forces under Michael launches an attack upon the government forces of the Emperor of the Latins, Constantine, or any other country in the northern hemisphere, it will be regarded as an attack by Michael’s Army upon the Kingdom of Demphor, and such an assault will be repelled by any means necessary, including and possibly a full, retaliatory and military response by Demphor upon the aggressor.

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From the undersigned,

Sylvester Dermot
Rùnaire na Stàite agus Dàimh-Coimheach
Rìoghachd nà Démpharás, Élbaniøs & Duís
14 September 2016

To: Sylvester Dermot, Secretary of State and Foreign Affairs for the Kingdom of Demphor
From: Offices of His Majesty Michael VIII
Subject: -
Encryption: Highest

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Secretary Dermot,

His Majesty issues regret that he could not respond to your communication personally, due to the many commitments that currently befall him. On his behalf, I wish to inform your government that these accusations are an abysmal attempt at slandering and discrediting the legitimate rule of Emperor Michael VIII of the Latins.

Military personnel have been instructed to treat any encroachment against Latin soil or waters by a foreign nation as a direct act of war and will receive immediate retaliation from His Majesty’s Armed Forces. It is not the desire of Emperor Michael to see the conflict between he and his brother to come to war, nor is it his desire to see war among any nation. However, Latium will treat any encroachment to its territorial integrity with the force required to cease that encroachment.

Sincerely,
Antonia Frontalia,
On behalf of His Imperial Majesty and Rightful Emperor of the Latins, Michael VIII