QUEEN LOTHWYN II
The Great Exodus was a reference to an event that happened well before Fedor's time, but that colored the relationship between the Golden Throne and Morrdh. In the early 19th century, the First Empire and Morrdh had gone to war. The former had left the lands of Mordent devastated, as crops were eaten or burned, water wells consumed until they were dry, and animals taken from their owners to be butchered by soldiers. A famine befell the country, leaving King Robert Cathmore — perhaps the greatest king in Morridane history — no choice but to assemble an armada and ship his people to what is now Morrdh.
Fedor nodded, "The Great Exodus is a stain on the history of my country, Your Grace. To think that, at the time, the empire was well into its final phase. We got what we deserved, regardless: a hundred years of brutal civil war, until the reunification under my grandfather and predecessor. Hopefully, I can help bring some justice for what we did then by building a better relationship with Morrdh to bring, rather than death, peace and prosperity."
He sighed. "And, yes, the duties of a ruler do become quite rote and tiresome." They had cost him more than that, of course. He felt like something was missing without Sofie holding his arm.
"Anyway, it's good that you find the time for yourself. Archery, fencing, and reading are fantastic sports and habits. I am something of a hunter myself. Not long ago I traveled to Mokastana, where we hunted for jaguars. I have prowled for jagurats" — jaguar-like — and tegeras — tiger-like — in the Panooly jungles. Perhaps one day I could travel to Morrdh for a hunt one day. Maybe we could even use the bow, hunt like your ancestors did."
CASSANDRA ALZHUKA
Fedor thought for some time about her question. What did he love? He was afraid of the answer.
"My country," he said, finally. "The empire, of course. I have given my life to it. My children, as well. And—" he paused, then "—at one point I loved my wife. I still do, in a way. But we've drifted apart since the end of The War; my country comes first, it must, I am emperor after all. More than love, it's my duty. It's not as much about who I want to be as it is about who I am Willed to be."
"And you, Cassandra?" he asked. "What form does your love take?"
KING JAMES
Fedor laughed in good spirit to Queen Zaneta's comment on the diplomatic implications of attending the wedding. "Yes, well," he said, "you put a bunch of old men like your husband and I in the same room and we're due to make fools of ourselves by talking shop. Besides, I lack imagination. One way or another, I find myself coming back to the same topics."
Regarding Dersconi, he had only been there once, many, many years ago. He said as much. "I was so young, I hardly remember. My grandfather took me. It was before...—" he paused awkwardly — "...before the war. I don't remember much, I'm afraid. I will have to visit again soon, I'm sure it's lovely. Have many Stevidians moved there since its acquisition by the crown? It certainly seems like the perfect place for a summer vacation home." He might have to acquire one himself. How many would that make now? He'd have to make a point of traveling more for personal reasons. He was growing tired of business.
"As for AHSCA," he continued, "that country is a mystery to me. I have heard so little about it, a fault of my own and not of the country's, of course. As for awkwardness, I understand completely." He looked at James and chuckled. "But, look how far a little dialogue can take us toward peaceful and prosperous coexistence." Fedor titled his head as a thought struck his mind. "And what if the Triumvirate visited AHSCA together? That would give good reason for a state visit to AHSCA and I'm sure we can mix a little pleasure in with business. I would certainly enjoy a visit to paradise, it's much needed."
He would have to ask James about the conflict with AHSCA on another day.
CORY BRERA
"Ah," replied Fedor. "More Catholics." He said it jokingly.
Nodding to King James of Stevid, he added, "If you're looking for a friend of the same faith, I suggest you speak to that man over there at some point today. He and I were enemies once, but now we are friends and he is most certainly a good friend to have. And, in this region, the Catholic faith is not as widespread as it is elsewhere, so I am sure he would be enthralled to meet you."
"As for my own country, where do I even start?" he laughed. "The Golden Throne is more than a country, I would say. I mean that in the sense that we are not a single nation. Many of the people who live under our flag were living under a different one ten years ago. In fact, if we go back forty or fifty years ago, you could say most. Back then, 'the Golden Throne' was little more than a memory and, for most, that memory wasn't of the heyday, but of the sick, dying state of the 19th century. When my grandfather, my predecessor, finally reunited the old mainland provinces, his idea was to create a new pan-national identity, one that could be shared by Macabéans, Frommians, and all others alike. His philosophy was that through good governance and prosperity, we could repair a broken people and bring to them a better world. As self-serving as it sounds, it is that same philosophy that guides me today. Of course, there is glory to conquest. Old habits die hard, as they say. But I claim, with the knowledge that in my heart I speak truly, that there is more to it than just that."
He went on — as he tended to do about this topic —, "Zarbia, Indras, Holy Panooly, Nicaro, Firmador, Pezlevko-Rubino. All people living under dictators and warlords, their only freedom coming through death. Our dream, our vision, is that under imperial rule or oversight we can introduce liberties and freedoms that most in those nations have long forgotten. It is not an easy road or even a straight one, but it is the one I am Willed to follow."
"Anyway," he finished, "before I drone on, my point is that wherever you visit in the Golden Throne you are liable to see and experience something different. In Cerfonlande, an old Guffingfordi provice, you can get a taste of colonial Pantocratoria. Pantocratoria had colonized the place many hundreds of years ago. South, you'll experience the Questerian and Knootossian colonial cultures, with a tinge of Stevidian. Likewise, cross the frontier into the Zarbian territories and everything will change. I think you would very much enjoy it. If you decide to visit, let our embassy in your capital know. I will make sure that your expenses are taken care of and that your experience in my country, whatever part of it you think you'd like, is the best it can possibly be."
"And if one wanted to visit Fecaw, where would you recommend?" he asked.
MORGAN WAYNE
"I would not miss your wedding for anything else in the world, Captain Wayne," said Fedor. "You 'Mericans have a reputation for fun that precedes you. Besides, from what I know of the Lomengo family, any man considered material for marrying their daughter must be a good man indeed, and I like to surround myself with good men."
"As for emperor or your majesty," he continued, "call me Fedor. I prefer not to walk around with a feather up my ass."
He chuckled when Morgan revealed the flask. "All alcohol is fair game, my friend. Rum, especially. In Theohuanacu, they make a local variant they call jinharem and I am quite the connoisseur." That last word he pronounced almost with a Pantocratorian accent, mixed with his thick Díenstadi tongue. When the server made her way to them, he said, "In fact. Pour me a glass from your finest bottle of rum, neat."
"So, where will you and the wife be residing? Mokastana or 'Merica?"
The Great Exodus was a reference to an event that happened well before Fedor's time, but that colored the relationship between the Golden Throne and Morrdh. In the early 19th century, the First Empire and Morrdh had gone to war. The former had left the lands of Mordent devastated, as crops were eaten or burned, water wells consumed until they were dry, and animals taken from their owners to be butchered by soldiers. A famine befell the country, leaving King Robert Cathmore — perhaps the greatest king in Morridane history — no choice but to assemble an armada and ship his people to what is now Morrdh.
Fedor nodded, "The Great Exodus is a stain on the history of my country, Your Grace. To think that, at the time, the empire was well into its final phase. We got what we deserved, regardless: a hundred years of brutal civil war, until the reunification under my grandfather and predecessor. Hopefully, I can help bring some justice for what we did then by building a better relationship with Morrdh to bring, rather than death, peace and prosperity."
He sighed. "And, yes, the duties of a ruler do become quite rote and tiresome." They had cost him more than that, of course. He felt like something was missing without Sofie holding his arm.
"Anyway, it's good that you find the time for yourself. Archery, fencing, and reading are fantastic sports and habits. I am something of a hunter myself. Not long ago I traveled to Mokastana, where we hunted for jaguars. I have prowled for jagurats" — jaguar-like — and tegeras — tiger-like — in the Panooly jungles. Perhaps one day I could travel to Morrdh for a hunt one day. Maybe we could even use the bow, hunt like your ancestors did."
CASSANDRA ALZHUKA
Fedor thought for some time about her question. What did he love? He was afraid of the answer.
"My country," he said, finally. "The empire, of course. I have given my life to it. My children, as well. And—" he paused, then "—at one point I loved my wife. I still do, in a way. But we've drifted apart since the end of The War; my country comes first, it must, I am emperor after all. More than love, it's my duty. It's not as much about who I want to be as it is about who I am Willed to be."
"And you, Cassandra?" he asked. "What form does your love take?"
KING JAMES
Fedor laughed in good spirit to Queen Zaneta's comment on the diplomatic implications of attending the wedding. "Yes, well," he said, "you put a bunch of old men like your husband and I in the same room and we're due to make fools of ourselves by talking shop. Besides, I lack imagination. One way or another, I find myself coming back to the same topics."
Regarding Dersconi, he had only been there once, many, many years ago. He said as much. "I was so young, I hardly remember. My grandfather took me. It was before...—" he paused awkwardly — "...before the war. I don't remember much, I'm afraid. I will have to visit again soon, I'm sure it's lovely. Have many Stevidians moved there since its acquisition by the crown? It certainly seems like the perfect place for a summer vacation home." He might have to acquire one himself. How many would that make now? He'd have to make a point of traveling more for personal reasons. He was growing tired of business.
"As for AHSCA," he continued, "that country is a mystery to me. I have heard so little about it, a fault of my own and not of the country's, of course. As for awkwardness, I understand completely." He looked at James and chuckled. "But, look how far a little dialogue can take us toward peaceful and prosperous coexistence." Fedor titled his head as a thought struck his mind. "And what if the Triumvirate visited AHSCA together? That would give good reason for a state visit to AHSCA and I'm sure we can mix a little pleasure in with business. I would certainly enjoy a visit to paradise, it's much needed."
He would have to ask James about the conflict with AHSCA on another day.
CORY BRERA
"Ah," replied Fedor. "More Catholics." He said it jokingly.
Nodding to King James of Stevid, he added, "If you're looking for a friend of the same faith, I suggest you speak to that man over there at some point today. He and I were enemies once, but now we are friends and he is most certainly a good friend to have. And, in this region, the Catholic faith is not as widespread as it is elsewhere, so I am sure he would be enthralled to meet you."
"As for my own country, where do I even start?" he laughed. "The Golden Throne is more than a country, I would say. I mean that in the sense that we are not a single nation. Many of the people who live under our flag were living under a different one ten years ago. In fact, if we go back forty or fifty years ago, you could say most. Back then, 'the Golden Throne' was little more than a memory and, for most, that memory wasn't of the heyday, but of the sick, dying state of the 19th century. When my grandfather, my predecessor, finally reunited the old mainland provinces, his idea was to create a new pan-national identity, one that could be shared by Macabéans, Frommians, and all others alike. His philosophy was that through good governance and prosperity, we could repair a broken people and bring to them a better world. As self-serving as it sounds, it is that same philosophy that guides me today. Of course, there is glory to conquest. Old habits die hard, as they say. But I claim, with the knowledge that in my heart I speak truly, that there is more to it than just that."
He went on — as he tended to do about this topic —, "Zarbia, Indras, Holy Panooly, Nicaro, Firmador, Pezlevko-Rubino. All people living under dictators and warlords, their only freedom coming through death. Our dream, our vision, is that under imperial rule or oversight we can introduce liberties and freedoms that most in those nations have long forgotten. It is not an easy road or even a straight one, but it is the one I am Willed to follow."
"Anyway," he finished, "before I drone on, my point is that wherever you visit in the Golden Throne you are liable to see and experience something different. In Cerfonlande, an old Guffingfordi provice, you can get a taste of colonial Pantocratoria. Pantocratoria had colonized the place many hundreds of years ago. South, you'll experience the Questerian and Knootossian colonial cultures, with a tinge of Stevidian. Likewise, cross the frontier into the Zarbian territories and everything will change. I think you would very much enjoy it. If you decide to visit, let our embassy in your capital know. I will make sure that your expenses are taken care of and that your experience in my country, whatever part of it you think you'd like, is the best it can possibly be."
"And if one wanted to visit Fecaw, where would you recommend?" he asked.
MORGAN WAYNE
"I would not miss your wedding for anything else in the world, Captain Wayne," said Fedor. "You 'Mericans have a reputation for fun that precedes you. Besides, from what I know of the Lomengo family, any man considered material for marrying their daughter must be a good man indeed, and I like to surround myself with good men."
"As for emperor or your majesty," he continued, "call me Fedor. I prefer not to walk around with a feather up my ass."
He chuckled when Morgan revealed the flask. "All alcohol is fair game, my friend. Rum, especially. In Theohuanacu, they make a local variant they call jinharem and I am quite the connoisseur." That last word he pronounced almost with a Pantocratorian accent, mixed with his thick Díenstadi tongue. When the server made her way to them, he said, "In fact. Pour me a glass from your finest bottle of rum, neat."
"So, where will you and the wife be residing? Mokastana or 'Merica?"
