Frankenlisch, Kingdom of Frankenlisch
Larry Tristram's Office, Foreign Ministry
“In that case sir, I believe the Cossack forces will also remain no matter what happens between now and two days from now. As long as both of our forces stay, we can decide what to do with the government at leisure. But as a preliminary, I’ll tell you that I discussed this beforehand with my government. We wouldn’t be looking to place a Cossack candidate on the throne, so I think I can say that we would wholeheartedly support a Frankenlischian candidate on the throne. Of course, the best scenario, if the rebels do go too far, would be King Kamburgh’s lineage, but if that is not possible, we will support whatever candidate your Majesty decides.”
Tristram's face lit up with an eerily wide smile. "I'm glad. I don't think things will come to that; I certainly hope not, Her Royal Highness is a sweet, mostly innocent girl who doesn't deserve the burden of rule." He nodded slowly, "I will attempt to change the Prime Minister's mind on that account. But thank you for your support and I assure you that everyone shares your desire for the House of Kamburgh to retain their throne."
Vehr continued, “But overall, I believe that is all we have for now. Shall we head down to the station?”
"Good." Tristram exclaimed, rising to his feet quicker than his stature would usually warrant. His lapse into seriosity appeared over and he donned the same bawdy, jolly attitude that Vehr had met earlier. "Now then, let's meet the King!" He cried, gleefully and held his clenched fist out in the air, as if leading a military charge with imaginary sword aloft.
Queen Caroline Central Station
Monumental was really the only word that could be used to describe Queen Caroline Central Station. Not only was it monumental in size, but it was also monumental in stature. Few buildings could claim to represent an age, an era, but this one could. It was a true testament to Vionna-Frankenlischian architecture and the grandeur of the Carolinian Era. A high, impressive, curved glass and steel clerestory roof hung high above the twenty-nine platforms below. If not for the modern trains and the very modern hustle and bustle, one might mistake the scene for a picture of the same station sixty years prior, if not a full century ago. Twenty years it had taken to finish the construction but it did not show, the true perfection of the construction made it look as if time were paused for the building. A huge concourse was brimming with commercial stands, railway workers and information boards; the concourse was flanked by a vast variety of small shops and eating places on two storeys. Beyond that concourse was the business-end of the station. Queen Caroline Central Station boasted twenty-nine platforms and one could get a train to any major destination on the mainland from one of those platforms. Three-day sleeper trains ran from far-off Julianopolis in south-west Vionna to Platforms 28 and 29 of the grand station.
No trains would be stopping at Platform 29 today, however, as that was where the King's personal train was parked. The locomotive was named King Edward I, after the first king of Vionna-Frankenlisch and it was sleek black, its tender emblazoned with the initials GW; GW standing for Great Westonland, the last steam-train using rail company left in the Kingdom of Frankenlisch, besides a few heritage railways with backing from the Guild of Historians. King Edward I had been purchased from Great Westonland in 1964 by King Albert, one of the frivolous personal expenses that he was ridiculed for in the national press; a popular, and surprisingly true, anecdote claimed that as the leftist rebels approached Parliament Square and Imperial Palace, where King Albert and much of his family were to meet their unfortunate end, the second-to-last radio message from the besieged Parliament Square was a desperate call for ammunition and reinforcements. The very final radio message was by King Albert himself, a call to all loyalist forces within Frankenlisch to retake the grand railway station and save his beloved train, an objective which was reached by two regiments of royalist cavalry in the final hours of the Battle of Frankenlisch, rumour had it that the colonel of the King's Highland Dragoons drove the Royal Train to Gestoria himself, and saw it loaded aboard a ship to a loyal colony.
There would be no daring escapes this time around, however. This time King Edward I would be conveying His Imperial Majesty and some of his government, along with the Cossack delegation, to Westonland Castle, where the King was to spend several days recuperating. Lieutenant Lamb, causing much surprise considering her gentle demeanour and small stature, was like a lion when the station guards refused to let her and her charges onto the platforms without a ticket. She yelled, ordered and finally threatened her way past the ticket barriers and sprinted, with the party of diplomats and officials in tow, to Platform 29 where the Royal Train was awaiting them impatiently. Larry Tristram, red-faced and sweating, trailed behind at a leisurely pace and was forced to leap onto the guard's van as the train lurched into motion.
The group reconvened in the penultimate carriage of the train, the so-called Diplomat's Suite. The Diplomat's Suite was a long sleeper carriage with four small yet quite lavish and reasonably comfortable rooms. Tristram's was at the front of the carriage, with the Cossacks enjoying a room each, of their own chosing. As the journey would be a slow one, owing to the King's need for rest and a lack of excitement, and the four settled in quickly before reconvening again around a small table at the end of the diplomatic carriage.
"So, gentlemen," Larry Tristram said with a content smile, a loose collar and a slightly sweaty face, "How do you find everything so far? We shall have to meet the King in fifteen minutes so if anyone needs to change, I suggest they do so very soon."
