The Wanderer's Guide to Somewhere (CLOSED)

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 8 - Montevicio Emerald Ball - Jin

Sometimes, it can get difficult to travel in Farfadillis if you and your esteemed guest held money and name. Even more so even wealth and fame for reasons one could imagine when travelling in Farfadillis, though in their cases bringing plenty of former would be helping out their cause than not. There it's difficult to travel with a specific goal in mind, with the country under its course-altering for the fifteenth time in recent memory, and the travel routes remembered more through mouth than paper.

This would remain to be the case for Mauril Yoon and his company of the Montesierra studios. The last we had really heard of their movements out in public, they were in the Framsteg Airport where they had landed on a four-seater private plane, with all four of Jin Zhi Xian, Rico Sierra, Raoul-Christophe Jang-Nolan and Mauril all wearing summer suits to prepare themselves for the hotter Shango-Fogoan weather. The authorities there, for most part, have stayed away from the war and violence that had infected the land in the past half-decade, and with four, foreign-looking businessmen, whose standout clothing have made them look quite apparent, they gave the quartet a gentle wink where in exchange of significant sums to be exchanged, they would be granted access to the entryway for the trek south to Rulandea. The quartet agreed, and with them ending up staying three days longer there, mostly to facilitate their disguise, they would settle themselves into the figurative darkness of the warfields.

While on the trek southwards, with none of the men speaking as a gimmick to remain mute and under the cover - only Rico and Mauril spoke Faroleran, out of the two, and only Mauril knew Rulandese well enough to communicate comfortably so, they would continue to read about the news back home. Jin Zhi Xian, in particular, had been reading about the news of the latest Quebecois social scene. Those weren't anything exceptional or anything - he had been more of a man of consistent routine than spicy, explosive news that the foreign tabloids held an edge over their Quebecois counterpart - but in them he was noticing trends. The social scenes back home, at least from the titles of the Kabuye-McKendry wedding and whatnot, suggested that he was not missing anything of major value, especially as that would imply that he would be away from matters considered more relevant for his own interest.

There are more important matters at hand, to be built from nothing, thought Jin, as he continued to read about the successes and the failures of those who were present at the Emerald Ball in Montevicio, where he had spent much of his time over past three decades. There was a sense of apathy he had developed during that time period, a symptom of the rugged terrain that would accompany their path in Frondt, Induja and possibly Farolera before even reaching their eventual destination, but the dure of the travel was starting to wear into him even harder than what he had imagined beforehand as well. It was as if the sense of trying to imagine, imagine something that could be so special and impactful like the monumental task of recreating the Quebecois Prometheus that simply could not be done at home nowadays, that was getting to his head.

In the end, all of this is going to worth it, isn't it? Jin Zhi Xian said to himself, as he tried his best to assure him and that of his colleagues. Rapidly breathing back and forth, and him trying his best not to look too deeply into the farther side of horizon, Jin knew that the powerless of the man was what would make the recreation of the late J. Kenneth Barbenheimer even more memorable. The glory that had come in middle-phase, combined with the acrimonious fallout with the government and the shootout on the immediate days after the end of Southern Rushmori War in mid-1945, all of it had led into a mixture of sweetness and bitterness.

Eventually, after days turning into weeks of almost-nonstop travel in the core of this magical island, the Jeep came to a stop at the gates of Farolera. Dizziness, weariness and the smell of the sweat that had drenched all four of their bodies, clothes and luggages, the quartet could see that they were every bit lost even in middle of the journey. 'We have made it halfway, but not entirely there yet,' Mauril said to the rest, as the super-agent pointed out with his left finger into the forests into the more desolate part of Farolera. 'We are still a few hundred kilometres of driving away from Ruland, but will likely have to be careful if not to be caught on the crossfire of the war.'

'Caught crossfire of the war that will happen whether with the Rulandese or the Farolerans, no?' asked Rico, as the film executive looked more reluctant each passing hour of the occasion. 'You are telling me that we will not draw the attention of any authority that would come encounter us, especially.'

'I would call fifty-fifty on that,' Mauril said, before looking back at Rico. 'I doubt they will try to kill you, especially considering the history of Quebecois footballers on either side of the border.' He then cleared his throat before adding a note: 'Though if they do kill me, I suppose there's material benefits to it for all those concerned.'

'Perce Town owner and super-agent killed by a crossfire surely sounds like a good way to die and be on the headlines,' Raoul-Christophe said in a very dry manner, before resuming to speak confidently, almost in a soliloquy without really looking back at the others. 'and that would be less than ideal for anybody's concern. So let's not end up that way, make it to Ruland to canvas the future filming site and figure out the rest shall we?'

'I suppose so,' Jin, the least emotionally or sportingly invested one of the four, agreed. They then went back to their Jeep and continued driving along the highway.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 9 - Somewhere in Ruland - Raoul-Christophe

Another three days would pass with the quartet's travels between the Faroleran hinterlands and their destination of the Rulandese deserts. During that time period, the company had remained quiet and mostly to themselves, keeping their financial expenses in control in case of necessiated bribery or persuasion, but for most part saw little use of them. The Quebecois stance with the Great War of Farfadillis, after all, had remained mostly neutral, with the Irene Kweon Binnington cabinet staying non-confrontational with minimal words said and contributions spared.

But that only had so much to do with it, and a couple of factors on the ground also helped them as well. Rico's status as a football executive (well sorta, we all knew his wife Myeong-Yoon and the club president Einar did more part in it) and Mauril's superagent status, as well as their ability to communicate in Faroleran had also helped. And while an occasional near-misses from the missiles and fires were inevitable, with them only surviving on the grounds of carefully-manoeuvred drives, decent driving skills, and a mistimed shot by a couple of unknowing marksmen, they were still left somewhat unaffected by the barrage of fire, and by the end of week would make it safely into the Rulandese soil.

Having arrived into the Promised Land, where the love of fire was observed reverently and the soul made of iron from cyclical misery, the quartet would find themselves stopping halfway across the desert. Camped inside an oasis of approximaty fifty trees, but the waterhole that was close to drying up, they would settle there for an overnight stay, before continuing onto their trek to Omen, where they were due to meet Rulandese Revolutionary Army General Erin Kang and her son and Mauril's client, Rulandea Kosta wingback Mariano. With Rico and Mauril going to sleep, and Jin looking to fill up the water tank on the oasis approximately fifteen minutes walk away, Raoul-Christophe Jang-Nolan would be the one left to watch their camp as the sentinel.

Feels as if there's no way home, Jang-Nolan thought to himself. He was busy staring into the grey horizons of Ruland, all in while trying to remain calm over the occasional gunfire or the pillar of fire seen from the horizon. He had remembered that it was approximately a week since he had last seen his wife and kids, who were asleep back in their Songak home. He had already missed their second child, Libby, celebrating her 12th birthday, and had felt horribly that this had been second in three years this had to happen. Not the model father, but then I had never claimed myself to be one anyway.

And he couldn't exactly tell nobody details about it. While it had been made aware by the rest of company and his colleagues that he would be away on a month-long work trip, most had likely not known about the fact they were heading into, if not already in middle of, the warzone in Ruland. Their work trip into the war zone, which was already considered unsanctioned due to the entirety of this multi-state entity being considered a Level Four country (DO NOT TRAVEL!), was done with minimal details and maximal bribery required in order to avoid the radar of the authorities back home as well, and there was only so much the sense of duty to the humankind that could do to ease their feelings about it all.

Even then, however, Raoul-Christophe could not exactly ignore the temptation. For the past half-hour since he had started, there happened to be a glowing mound with a partly-submerged object approximately five hundred metres away from him. The object, for most part, was not moving at all, but with the way that it had been glowing in the shades of platinum, Raoul-Christophe knew that it was by no means a normal creation, or child's play, and that perhaps he had to address this enquiry on his own.

I think I am going to make a mistake, thought Raoul-Christophe, as he felt the sweat around his hair form, before them starting to dry themselves the closer they had gone to the submerged mound. With his footwork slower on each step taken, and his heart feeling as if it were under a lead locket, he knew he was heading into something unusual. It would at least be my mistake, and one I could find true towards....only if my heart and intuition's correct.

He continued to tiptoe awkwardly, as he would inch closer to the mound and its submerged object. Slowly feeling the light becoming brighter and brighter, he found himself covering his own eyes while trying his best to hold onto the grip of sanity. It started to get hotter and hotter, perhaps exceeding the coolness of the Rulandese nights, and he felt as if his own body was burning in a Herculean finale.

It would only stop when Raoul-Christophe, after minutes that seemed more like hours, had finally reached the half-submerged object. In a desperation move he would press the object with the palm of his left hand, which would whirr and generate loud noise, before being put to a slow but grinding halt. Eventually it would stop producing light too, and at that moment he would slowly take his left hand off of it, before walking back.

Well, that was scary, thought Raoul-Christophe, as he slowly exhilarated his breath for a few minutes. The object, after all, had burnt so brightly and generate the equivalent amount of energy that he barely had the time to re-gain his own senses after his hand had acted it out as a lightning rod. He could not exactly ignore the potency or the significance it might have held by this point, and thus had to look at it carefully now that it's stopped moving.

Raoul-Christophe took his steps forward and walked back to it. Unlike earlier, the object was now fully above the mound, and with the sand cleared off of it. He carefully re-oriented his eyes and looked forward, to read the very sign board of the object of concern:

DO NOT TOUCH. Memories of Zombie Machine remains here, World Cup 27 4ever.
- Florent Tremblay, Nostradamus Narniire-Nevara, and Äsim Madradora -

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

OOC Note: This chapter, while chronologically backtracking from the previous chapters that involved Jongmyo Shrine, holds significance. Social Seasons of Shin-Goryeo in some ways is a series about the society that was developing and branching out into the contemporary era post-Southern Rushmori War that has affected many parties, but is also about the variance of social circles and functions that emerge out of them.

With this chapter used as a set-up to hopefully alternate or work on both Montevicio Emerald Ball, where the contrast between the old world and the new world could be viewed in the setting of a glitzy principate, and both Athlone Gala and Adelphi Festival, where the old world still persists, maybe we could go through that in a parallel. Not to mention talking of the obstacles that would emerge with Barbenheimer (throwback to WC94 cycle!) production/shooting phases, minor mentions of the Great War of FFD, and how Dr. Heo and Jang J.G. would appeal to Christine II over the declaration of love latter holds...

The Latest Whistledown

A Century On: Prince Ramiro II of Montevicio Recollects upon the First Encounter of Transformational Ordono II and Film Icon Kate Donavan

Jean-Luc Baribeau

MONTEVICIO, YOSEO-MANITOBA - One hundred years may have exactly passed from the day the San Antonio Cathedral rang their storied bells twelve times in celebration, but the tales of Kate Donavan and the Prince Ordono II of Montevicio's wedding, and their thirty years of marriage, carry on to this day in Montevicio. The marriage, which would involve not only the de facto reincarnation of fairytale in the eyes of many, but also to mark the continued development of Montevicio as a principality with its identities distinct from that of surrounding Quebec and Huayramarca, but also to that of the rest, is a story worth revisiting of own.

A hundred-and-two years after their wedding, their great-grandson Prince Ramiro II does his best to recollect what was known to him and his family. It was known that Kate and Ordono's meeting was arranged, partly thanks to former Julie Platt-Gavlas, the younger sister of Jameson, 3rd Baron Platt, and a longtime member of the Shingoryeoite Academy of Cinematography (SAC). Platt-Gavlas, who had passed in 2034 at age 94, recalled the very occasion clearly at Le Parimatch in 2011, on the fiftieth anniversary of the wedding: 'I did no part, just happened to be a chess piece in the greater fate's course of action. That's it,' she said.

It was 10th of September, 1956. Platt-Gavlas, who had travelled regularly over the Blood Sea due to her family running Platt Liners (eventually part of Spiritair by mid-1960s), and her brother's diplomatic career that would end up with his thirty year tenure as Ambassador to Cabo Azure, was heading to Prince Eric and Montevicio from Rutland, Cassadaigua. Platt-Gavlas and her husband, former Navy Officer and legendary Yoseo University at Montevicio (YUM) basketball coach Gilles Gavlas, would discover that Donavan was also at the ship, presumably to attend the shooting for what would become her 1957 film Antipodes. It was then that the couple had the idea of convening the two had come into place.

When the liner arrived in Prince Eric for brief stoppage, and also to allow for passengers to disembark, Platt-Gavlas met Donavan to arrange the possible soiree.

'It was not something that anybody had expected to work, but it worked out the best possible way for everybody,' said Platt-Gavlas, who also pointed their occasion as one with 'no shortage of chimneys on the Pier, facing against the Salamantic Strait that separated Quebec and Ko-oren, and just north of the mouth of the Northandryun Sea'.

Their exchange, while rather anticlimatic relative to the seaside glamour that the southwestern tip of Yoseo region was known for, was still successful. 'She did agree, yes, but there were a number of conditions that would take place, including about a three day waiting period between their arrival in Montevicio and the actual meeting. Those were the times when the camera flashes were brighter, though not as godawful as the nineties and the turn of the century, goodness..' she said. 'She wasn't the most active of those who I've met, had a bit of shyness too, and wanted to keep some facets of professionalism in mind.'

With the provisional green light given by Donavan, the coming days would come along swiftly and rather painlessly. Many hours of phone exchanges between Gavlas and his wife and Prince Ordono would follow, with both parties doing their best to figure out the simplest arrangement. Montevicio, then a rapidly growing city of 450,000 where the smog surrounded the colonial revivalist buildings in the core, Monte-Romeo Casino still home to most others, and the messy, ever-growing expansions of the smoggy suburbs coinciding with the Golden Age of Montywood cinema. Making a positive impression of the city, even with the Rutland native familiar to the city and the postwar era felt across the Blood Sea herself, was a key.

Approximately twenty-four hours would pass from Prince Eric to Montevicio, halfway during which Gavlas let Donavan know that Ordono would be expecting to see Donavan in four days' time, an extra day added from the originally-expected three day waiting period. When asked about an additional day, Gavlas informed Donavan that Ordono, then-vice president of the Royal Quebecois Olympic Committee and Basketball Quebec, had to be absent for an important meeting back in Joongyeong. (It would eventually involve the initial steps to discuss the acquisition of then-Northandryun Rovers's basketball team).

So the three days would pass between then and now, with Donavan mostly occupied under soirees, functions and meetings with those of Antipodes crew, as well as the studios who sponsored her trip there in Avalon Studios. Things would not get better on the day of the meeting. Sporadic waves of smog had once again engulfed the city that had ushered in Quebecois motoring culture (a peculiar West Coast trait, as those out in the east would call). This, combined with traffic delays on the city's roads and streets, let alone the sea of photographers, had made navigating through the city on her car..a difficult matter.

According to Ramiro II, the arrival at the Princely Palace would end up not happening until four, three hours of delay added. It was not the concern the Ordono, whose reputation as a late-sleeper and an owl prowling the streets had been well known, had, him still jetlagged from the previous night's travel from Joongyeong back home. 'When people say relax, it will all be alright, that's how it precisely went for my great-grandparents,' he said. 'He was still jetlagged trying to secure the future of his beloved team, the Lakers, and she was just trying to make it to the heart of the city but felt trapped by all that...chaos surround it.'

'That's how it went really. Photographs were quietly taken, perhaps neither of them so aware that this could be the start of something new - remember that both of them were engaged at the time, which might sound scandalous in this day and age - you might notice some of them too,' he added.

Feeling exhausted, the visits to the Palace's 70 rooms could wait for Donavan. 'Great-grandpa was more than fine with it - the Palace itself still has much of the features from 400, 500 years ago, and even more so in those days. So the idea for them was to go to a quiet house for quick walk,' Ramiro said.

The couple went downstairs to the basement, speaking to each other along the underground walkway to a tiny peninsula attached to the Princely Palace itself. Away from the media and everybody else, they would find themselves quietly enjoying two hours at the peninsula, where there was a long, wooden swing that also functioned as bench. 'That bench is a famous one, yes,' Remiro said of the now-famous Donavan Swing, which the tourists would be able to visit when it would be open on select number of weeks in April and August. 'And that's where things did change a bit. They relaxed, just spent hours talking, and were captivated with each other,' he noted.

After about four hours in the Palace properties, Donovan left the Palace, feeling happier and amused about the unexpected turnaround of the meeting. No official records remain of it on the documents, not even on the late Prince's diary, mostly due to how quick it was, but those familiar with Montevicio would know of the date's significance.

Others, however, would recall of it in a positive manner. 'Did everything go well? Eventually, yes,' said Platt-Gavlas. 'There was a lot that was going around in the city that week, not to mention Ordono having to be on a flight just says before, that we weren't so sure on how it was going to go.

'But a lot did come out of it. Like the white dress and the Emerald brooch she had worn on the reception later that night, sure, but also the ways in which they had addressed each other in class and elegance, that was a precursor to what would continue in the coming decades,' she added. 'Even the Lakers and the Kodiaks had additional atmosphere, with both teams going on a roll. Strange how things would just work out, sure, but let's not pretend that fortune had some part in it too.'

Two years would gradually pass, as Ordono and Kate would undergo to their matters. Their correspondences would continue, even with Montevicio undergoing significant urban projects that had kept the Prince and his civilian-led government busy, while Kate's film career would continue, most notably so in Rise (1957) and High Hopes (1959). By the virtue of the high-flying Prince's ways, and great manoeuvring, they were able to keep their romance quiet until the announcement of engagement a year and half later.

'Some things are public knowledge, and others...more the matter of miracles happening, let's just leave it at that,' Remiro said later on Le Parimatch interview. 'Yes, there were a lot of moments - like great-grandpa using the detour from a state visit, to that of factories in the beautiful beaches and piers of Palmyra, to see her in Rutland; or Princess Kate staying with the Ha's for the Festival de Dongnae to receive the Best Actress for Rise, just two weeks before the wedding. Or them meeting at the empty centre-field of Moogoongwha Bowl (not-Rose Bowl -e.d.-) in February of all times? Yes there were a lot.'

'But what does matter, regardless of the individual moments, were the times they would enter into, and would share. We were talking about a very different, postwar period, for both great-grandparents, and in some ways, both countries too,' he would add. 'So when people would talk about the Royal Wedding, of Christine the Second and Her Consort, I ask them to not look at the individual moments, but rather the ethos of the times. Because that's what will matter when you look back to them twenty, thirty years later.'

As for Platt-Gavlas, she had kept corresponding with Princess Kate, whose 'wedding of the century' (the title that has since been passed onto another one thirty years later, between Henri VIII and Nathalie Ginzbourg in Joongyeong, in June 1988) would last until Ordono's passing in 1987. Kate would outlive her husband by just over twenty years, passing in year 2008. She was happy enough to attend, though 'on the back row as expected'.

'I think sometimes we all want to have too active of a role, and claim responsibility over it, and let that greed, the desire to be recognised, harm us all,' Platt-Gavlas would say. 'I didn't choose to harbour that myself, mostly because I was just happy to part of the history. It was a charming moment, and to ask for more part in it, sometimes can harm how you would remember it.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

OOC: As Cass knows, this goes back by approximately a year and half from the last part. But the narrative continuity is ensured through Rico Sierra, who admittedly may be the most-RP'd foreign character in my lore outside of a Dagan or a Schottian at this point in time!

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 9 - Rico

Rico Sierra was amused to see how sometimes, the life could just feel so normal only days or weeks after coming back from the trip to Ruland. As a Krytenian, whose sense of foreign affairs were astute enough to sift through his own producers' works, but not enough to the point where he would openly engage in political campaigning or ask his own Montesierra Studios to take open stance, he felt even odder. Having been through the battlefields of Farfadillis, and witnessed the technical wonder that was the Milchamian Zombie Machine left alone in the Farolran desert, the matters once back home felt aloof, even as he was busy observing the behavioural patterns of the guests in Salle Lapalme in Montevicio.

Been there, done that, thought the film executive, who had every bit of his attention spent on checking the who's-who of the high society out west present. In particular, he had noticed how the Ramiro II and members of the Montevician royal family were occupied about three tables away, feeling rigid in their interactions with one another. He wondered if the princely families, perhaps the magic of 1957 having started to wear down, were under disgruntlement. As with every unhappy family, there are many ways to assess the whys and devis how they may have came to be..

Seated alongside his friend and producer, Pomme d'Or winning-director Hong Soo-Deok, Jang-Nolan and numerous members of the so-called 'Barbenheimer crew', he would find himself mostly occupied talking light and casual, mostly to test the waters. To no surprise, Sierra had found himself rather at ease when with his company. Somewhat distant from the conventional Montevicio celebrities and producers, who themselves had formed a separate school different than the Central School Joongyeong-based Sierra and his usually-preferred arsenal of producers did, it had allowed them to observe the crowd and see if much suspicion would be raised the same way one of his business partners, Yue-Quebecois businessman Jin Zhi Xian, had in Joongyeong just a month ago.

'Life does feel isn't it, now that we are all back here?' Hong Soo-Deok asked Rico, who was too occupied watching Northern Moravica football coach Lance Kabuye and his wife enter with a separate pair. 'I mean, it's not the function we would all want to be, especially after surviving a bunch of life-threatening attempts out there in Shango-Fogoa.'

'Precisely so, but I do see good potential that exists if Barbenheimer were to be filmed here,' answered Rico, who looked back at him and Raoul-Christophe. 'Cheaper cost, additional cast could be easier recruited, and if we could get easier hold of the Rulandese Revolutionary Army we could probably secure a more favourable set-up for the shooting phase. Could even start as early as next summer, if we could negotiate that with the Foreign Office and other places that we might require their respective approvals for.'

The worries of approval in this case, however, Rico was less sure about. The Quebecois governmental stance on the War itself was rather a murky one, with their relative inaction not helping anybody either. Individual civilians were heading left and right to join the Rulandese or the Faroleran forces, and businesses involved too, let alone that of certain individuals who held personal ties such as Erin Kang, who had famously retired from her legendary career with Rulandea Kosta to join the Rulandese Revolutionary War, and Marco Hertel, once Champions League-winning-midfielder turned warlord and PlayToy CEO. With this in mind, not to mention the complicated ties between Quebecois and Banijan royalties, the chance of possible interference in the process were going to be higher than not.

'You are not as sure on it,' drily added Raoul-Christophe. 'Even if we fully submit the proposal with the human tragedy of the rise and the downfall of J. Kenneth and Barbara Barbenheimer, rather than the specifics of the stories behind the first ever nuclear bomb made in Quebec?'

'There are some roadblocks, even without factoring in the dangers of associating with a certain General Kang, or Marco Hertel, yes. Such as the Foreign Office, or the Queen.'

'But the point of affiliating with Montesierra is to not have these affect-'

'Well, let's say I cannot guarantee things just yet,' Rico answered. 'But for the time being we need to get the show rolling, and start working on what matters.' He then continued, perhaps indicating signs of positivity. 'We may have to film a few well in advance, and may risk, but that might be what we will need to start with, isn't it?'

'And that I would not be opposed either,' Raoul-Christophe nodded before gesturing in approval. 'What does matter, if you were to ask me, is to actualise the dream, that of the purple clouds and the stars alternate with one another. That is what the late Barbenheimer had written, and what I do hope to see in the future-time.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

OOC: The Londonderry Love House is based on Belfast Love House, a place of tragedy for me IRL in Downtown Toronto. Yes, I do want to demolish that pub one day - I purposefully don't walk anywhere near it to keep myself intact. Hope this helps when understanding Pierre's perspective.

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 10 - Grand Prix de Joongyeong - Pierre van Eeden Youngblood

The Kingston Star

Local pub Londonderry Love given a new lease of life after halt on demolition permit

Jacque Royce-Joo

KINGSTON, MAHAN - The demolition of a locally-known pub has been delayed due to complaints by local organisations that may also see the disruption in issuing the permit in immediate future.

The City of Kingston has recently announced that it plans to allow plans to demolish The Londonderry Love House on Queen Arlene Street West to make way for a new, 34-storey condominium development.

The demolition was originally planned to start in September, provided that the City of Kingston would provide immediate permit to demolish the 4-storey property, but it is expected that permit may take six months to a year to be materialised following the recent spades of complaints over 'destruction of heritage'.

The Londonderry Pub, which was expected to close next week, have received a new sign of life and has currently said that it plans to remain open 'until the nail is spiked to the building's fate'...

'I know it was foolish of me to expect no less of a "local institution" to receive an article about its impending demolition. It's something that my brother (Clement-Clarence, also nicknamed C.C. -e.d.-) and sister had warned about, sure, but it's still a replaceable place, not somewhere like the Acadianan Cafe in the capitol!' said Pierre van Eeden Youngblood, the current Royal Quebecois Olympic Committee president. One of the most powerful man in Quebecois sports he was, and a proven father who had done well, and he was busy talking to his friend, Arsene Kim the former Prime Minister of fourteen years, at the Grand Prix de Joongyeong, the nation's finest horserace at the 'Drome.

'I suppose so,' Arsene lightly nodded to Pierre, the normally charming Prime Minister feeling somewhat gloomy in heart and slow in feet today. Arsene Kim, as someone who was used to the man six years senior of him, held a largely-positive, though intertwined relationship. His original impression of Pierre, when they were suitemates at the IRSEA training campus back in their Saclay campus with Arsene as squash player and Pierre Greco-Roman wrestler, was a man of integrity, perhaps ruthlessness, who loved his family dearly. Fiery, temperamental, and yet understanding, Pierre got along well with those in Joongyeong and Aeropag both, and the calmer, charismatic Arsene stayed close to him from those days to now, where they have started to see the sunset of their respective careers.

Of course, neither of them had much eye for the horses. As pleasant as Grand Prix de Joongyeong may have been, and how useful it was to socialise with like-minded people, largely within but often outside of their own circles, Pierre and Arsene chose to use this opportunity to discuss other, more personal matters. Being the younger and the calmer of the two, Arsene would end up being the one giving advice, which was something that he didn't often do outside of well, advising young Christine II in his Prime Ministerial days, as he would be the decisionmaker based on his ministers and constituents' words.

Still, he had to open his mouth. 'Your father would have been proud of you, in any case,' responded Arsene. 'He really wanted that fucking, The Londonderry Love House, to burn down and be demolished, at least from what I last remembered. It was a Forrest Gump-esque place of traumatic memories, one that even under a happier ending he's had with your late mother, he couldn't just get over and forget.'

Pierre's eyebrows started twitching upon the mention of his late mother. Arsene knew he made an error. 'You know what happened back when my mother died. It was 2034, and there was no boycott of the Republica Games.' He said, remembering how times were really different back then. 'Old man was still the Grizzlies' (local basketball team -e.d.-) GM, and Emma had just started teaching at UofK. Kids were little then.'

Arsene knew he had to intervene right there - memory lane trip's going too far. 'Stop right there,' said he. 'Sometimes, it takes the long way to really get the true intents known, and even without words.' He then continued. 'Your late father was a kind-hearted man who didn't exactly have the heart to execute, but he always wanted to destroy that place because he's made mistakes when it comes to her then. He didn't die the very next day as he hoped the very next morning, but those took blows out of him for five years, no?'

'Yes.' was all that Pierre said. He didn't want to elaborate further. 'And I would have felt the same.'

'And so would I, but it had just meant the long road around. Else you wouldn't have been born, and maybe you would have been born the son of the horrible, horrible cheating bastard your late mother had dated for five years only for him to cheat,' Arsene answered, trying to take a bit more simplistic approach. 'The god has willed us the right pathway, even if may have been painful. It's just that nobody should be going through it again the second time - no wonder your father wanted it demolished for twenty years.'

'Correct,' said Pierre. 'And to demolish it forever into smithereens is the least I could do to respect what he had given to me, Clement and June.'

It was then that Arsene and Pierre's phones both buzzed. Right as the leading pack of horses had gone past them in breeze, they would find themselves scrambling for their phones. After some struggles with their pockets, they would check their phone, only to see the following notification:

TRUE NORTH SPORTS - NSCF: ST.CROIX 31-19 SAGUENAY: Bleu et Blanc victorious in Boulouque-Milliken's 4 TD, 312-yard performance

Pierre's eyebrows were raised immediately. 'For one your late parents would have been proud of them scores, St. Croix faculty they were,' said Pierre.

'Now they would. You know how much it took for my mother to say she was proud of my career.' It was true - due to differing party allegiances Arsene and his late mother, Agnes Pineau, did not exactly have the best of times until halfway into his Prime Ministership. It had only gotten better then, which had incorporated approximately last five years of her life. 'I do miss her now and then.'

'In the spirit of missing one's parent, I think that you should talk to the Daemyeonggoong Palace to perhaps...ease all of this,' said Pierre. 'You, after all, know the Queen and the current Prime Minister well, and I feel like if we could just push for enough of right news, those that could blow positives into the town, then maybe you will be able to quietly and yet happily demolish that place.'

'And what would be your idea?' Arsene asked. 'I know a plenty, as you do know.'

'The Don of the Archives.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 11 - Grand Prix de Joongyeong - Heo Dong-Soo

Of course, things were not going to be as easy when it comes to reaching the opinions of 'The Don' that Arsene Kim and Pierre V.E. Youngblood had called.

When he was getting dressed at home, Dr. Heo Dong-Soo spent most of his time preparing by grabbing sweets, drinking from a pot of coffee and watching the St. Croix Bleu et Blanc play the Ratzupalfu University of Nature at the Jungledrome on TV. His eyeballs constantly shaking in tension, but his mind at relative ease, he sat and said little while watching the game alone, as he put his legs on the footrest right in front of his couch, with a pile of papers carefully placed right next to him to be read.

He read the papers, though the nature of the papers nowadays were anything but pleasant in this day and age. There was one in particular that bothered him, however, from The Taegukgi. The Taegukgi, being the most moderate and also the only Korean-language paper that circulates nationally and internationally, was the paper of his own choice and he's written articles there on historiography before too. That said, the issue of concern was different, as it had involved the Office of Competition calling a halt to the H&N Group, which was led by those close to him - that being none other than his two children and their spouses, one of his children's brother-in-law, beloved nephew, and best friend's son, on the grounds of anti-competition in multiple sector involved.

To think through possible ways to manoeuvre it was indeed essential for Dr. Heo, as he thought through a possible multi-step process for them to perhaps receive approval, or at least a conditional approval. But that said, the current priorities stood with the alma mater, as the Bleu et Blanc would battle it out in style at the South Newlandian tropics with their transfer quarterback, Ghislain Boulouque-Milliken, reverse-thinking their usual thought process. This complicated things for Dr. Heo, with St. Croix throwing lot of short, screen passes with relatively little difficulty reflecting that of his own mind's shakiness as well. His interests, that of being a patriarch of the family that has since expanded to incorporate friends and more distant cousins and nephews of peculiar interests like Ji Gyeong-Wan, were definitely on line, but he also knew that much of the blockades involved that of the Joongyeong courts or that of the Quebecois Crown, to whom he was technically serving under as the Head of the Royal Archives.

Eventually, after a halftime score of 27-14, Dr. Heo had decided to call it. He turned off the television, took down some notes, and replaced the plate instead with restocked supply of sweets that were better suited to that of his guests. Afterwards he went into his office, put on his dress shirt and suit jacket with the Royal Moogoongwha Order (Chevalier class) medal carefully pinned to the breast pocket, and then went back into the office. Arsene and Laurent came about fifteen minutes later, both younger men greeting 'The Don' with respect they had for one another, before sitting down on the table.

They talked for a good half-hour about St. Croix's strong form heading into the halfway point of regular season, with all three having ties to St. Croix in various forms - Arsene's parents were St. Croix professors, and wife and one of his three children alumni, Laurent's daughter Elodie studied at the IRSEA, which wasn't directly under but considered a school affiliated under USC umbrella, and Dr. Heo did his doctorate there. Regardless of how tenuous their respective concerns were ahead of the topic of the day, they were generally in good mood and seemed to have a positive outlook on how the season may turn out.

Afterwards, they would start talking about the elephant in the room.

'I know, dear Dr. Heo, that it would be prudent if you could get the right word for the Daemyeoongoong Palace to tell the City of Kingston to approve the demolition, just so that my late father's wishes could be respected,' said Laurent, as the RQOC chairman spoke in quieter volume of voice than usual. 'You have also known my late mother well, partly on the virtue of her generosities in the early years of your academic career.'

'I suppose that's more than doable,' answered Dr. Heo, as he grabbed a piece of Baklava. 'Your late mother was more than generous to me and my wife whenever we were on visits to Pahkatequayang to see my brother and his family, and I believe that your act to beat up her ex, on her funeral to note, was an honourable one only the true Quebecois man would do.'

'Thank you,' answered he, only to be interrupted by the Professor who raised his index finger per usual gesture.

'That said,' said Dr. Heo, as he tried his best to think through the procedure. 'I believe that we have a problem, one that involves me not being able to deliver those words.'

'Is it over the current Foreign Office policy on the travel ban to all individual nationstates of Farfadillis?' asked Arsene, rolling his head to the counterclock direction as he looked at both his companions. 'It is something that I, as your fellow Privy Councilor, can advise, but is ultimately down to Irene (current Prime Minister -e.d.-) and the Foreign Secretary. I have advised before to take the other direction, but this has not been followed.'

'No, that is not exactly on my concerns, though I will have to address that separately with Her Majesty as you may know, this involves Montesierra which is technically based on our soil, after all,' Dr. Heo answered. He knew that Montesierra, a renowned film company of rising stature, was technically based just down the road from his place in Joongyeong, even though it's generally considered to be multinational on the grounds the studios were respectively divided between Avidia, Krytenia, and Joongyeong.

'Then what would it be?' Pierre asked. 'I believe that for such a little recommendation, not much could be done the other way around.'

This was not true - both Pierre and Arsene knew that Dr. Heo had greater concerns that he would like to address here. 'I'm sure that those of the Office of Competition may have had some...thoughts about the acquisition proposal of the Songak Praetorian, and that they would be happy to refuse the generous offer put forward by the group.' He cleared his throat. 'Quite an unprecedented one, especially concerning a media outlet, one that does not come without a baggage or so to speak.'

'They have actually refused to approve that one, dear Heo?' asked Pierre in surprise. 'Everybody knows that it's as good of an offer The Praetorian could get out in the market. Not to mention by those with reliable interests.'

'I would assume that the question becomes over the ownership of multiple Q-League clubs' significant shares, which include Montreal City, Perce Town and Northandryun Rovers, not to mention other linked...investments.' commented Dr. Heo, before frowning back at Arsene and Pierre. 'Listen, I don't mind helping out a friend or two, but both of you need to get your shit together when it comes to aiding me through situations like this. Are the Casavants' presence with CSKA and the RQFA there with a board seat meaning nothing nowadays? And same goes to you, Arsene, with Montesierra. There's got to be something you should be able to do to secure a bloody overseas shooting in Ruland, for christ-sake.'

'I suppose that could be worked out, but you may want to do the ground work on your end too,' commented Arsene. 'I am sure the RQFA and the Competition Office will understand if you at least figure out the situation with one of the three, and then the other could be dealt with accordingly. I don't know, Ian Lautner may not be as inclined to keep the Rovers, considering how busy he's been lately out East, and may want his hands on QFL. Your nephew and his wife seem pretty keen with MonCity, but Montesierra could use the cash, et cetera.'

'Yeah, have a talk with your children and nephew, and maybe Lautner to figure out how the hell the H&N will re-arrange it. Maybe they will be able to buy a QFL or a RFL team instead, or sponsor Saguenay a bit better,' Pierre commented before laughing. 'But then, that may become my own problem instead, considering my own brother.'

'I will have a think,' answered Dr. Heo. 'But it should be doable. Just have to figure out how.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 12 - Grand Prix de Joongyeong - The Siblings

The atmosphere back in Stade Schwartz's 1792 Club was quite cozy, perhaps bit too warm in the summer with all the old wooden walls and the carvings done to the very maximum brim. Naturally for the Heo siblings, they had all been used to it, both Myeong-Shin and Myeong-Yoon being considered the legends of their respective sport(s) and nowadays, A-listers in their home.

But even then, the South Bend-area stadium held additional meanings for the family that rarely had multiple members attend, and anywhere the siblings of 41 and 39 years of age went in this small, provincial capital of 300,000 people, people looked at them, asking for autographs and photographs for what was a rare occurrence nowadays. Myeong-Shin distinguished with his letterman jacket and glasses and his younger sister noticeable for her muscular presence with cowboy hats five years into retirement, it certainly was a sight to behold. Maybe it served a testament to the fact that neither were really the locals nowadays - Myeong-Yoon never was, she was a Queen's College alumna like her parents were, and Myeong-Shin had moved out nineteen years ago when he was selected in the first, territorial stage of selections for the QBO Draft - but in every bit their presence were noticeable, all the way up to the lounge on the 7th floor where selected alumni and biggest donors held membership.

Both of them were nervous though, especially with the kickoff for the Fighting Irish match against Ratzupalfu University of Nature still four hours away, as they tried their best to wait for their father to arrive. Of course they both knew they had to speak to their father, even if the times were not the most convenient ones - Perce Town's having a turbulent, second half of the Q-League season, while Myeong-Shin's had two weeks off before heading back to Joongyeong for the Golden Dragon Cup (Bongwhanggi) national baseball championships, one where the Bugil College was considered one of four to five favourites, but not a surefire one after their tricky early-spring start. Or maybe it was an important timing to consider things, maybe not for the elder brother who held little interest outside of coaching baseball and gridiron, two sports he had loved and excelled at, but for the younger sibling.

'What do you think papa will say?' asked Myeong-Shin, as the Hector Kweon-winning linebacker tried his best to ease himself. He knew this didn't exactly bother him - the fifteen-percent share he had owned likely went little meaning with him and his wife Naomi, who was the head coach of women's national volleyball team, too busy on their own endeavours - but Dr. Heo still decided to call both of them at same time, with maybe a distant chance that Ian and Odette Lautner would also be able to attend (chance? not that high, they are busy people). 'He didn't say much to me, did he say anything peculiar to you?'

'Why would he?' Myeong-Yoon answered, the brown-haired point guard-turned-executive famous for her bluntness. 'He seems satisfied on the grounds that grandpa's delighted, and that we have promised never to introduce paywall. Where do you think we got the art of torrenting from?' This was true, for it was known that their grandparents have instilled the healthy practice of torrenting. Naturally ironic considering that Myeong-Yoon ended up marrying into Rico, who was obviously standing on the other side of the fence. 'Grandpa's delighted, and I'm sure grandma would have.'

'But that's not the reason why we have been asked to come this time, no?' Myeong-Shin asked. 'You know how little of interest I have in this outside of helping you and Moishe and Ian handle this. Nevermind Maisie and (Ji) Gyeong-Wan our elder brother.'

'Calm down, okay?' Myeong-Yoon answered, waving her left, dominant hand to suggest he stop. 'Dad's not going to be mad at you over this. He'll be mad at everybody else.' She then continued, 'You know this was not my idea, to start with - and even Rico's a bit hesitant on this, considering how complicated things can get for him conducting business between Quebec and Krytenia. And neither of us want to sell Perce Town either.'

'Why would dad want you guys to sell Perce Town? He gives more darn about properties or anything back there than grandpa did, and you do too. No way he wants you to give it up.'

'I suppose so, but then why are we here? There's got to be multiple reasons behind it,' Myeong-Yoon then stopped, before asking again. 'Is Ian coming? or the Commish Ahn?'

'Commish Ahn I haven't seen him since Apple Bowl last New Year's Day, and no, I don't think Ian's coming. Says he has to fly to Busukuma this weekend,' Myeong-Shin responded. 'Of course, father will think that he's evading his responsibility to answer to a family friend, but you make what you will of it really.'

---

'You know, the news of late don't really delight me. Both of you know why and I'm sure I don't need to elaborate any further on it,' Dr. Heo said, the elderly man wearing a suit with his Royal Moogoongwha Order medal pinned to the breastplate. 'It complicates things for everybody.'

'You are not going to ask me and Rico to sell Perce Town, aren't you?' Myeong-Yoon asked straightaway. 'Father, you know that if not for late grand-'

Dr. Heo shook his head. 'No, I am not here to talk about that. As tempting as that proposition may be in the eyes of some, there is no value in selling it when we are trending the opposite direction, aren't we?' He asked, before slowing his voice down. 'But yes, we all know that the Competition Office is holding back on your case because of the Barbenheimer project.'

'Yes, Raoul-Christophe (Jang-Nolan) has already done the proper research of the site, did the sketches and have even contacted some of the cast members.'

'Names?' Dr. Heo asked. While not exactly the connoisseur or scholar of films the way his father was, or particularly interested the way his daughter and son-in-law did, he still wanted to make sure his sense remained on point.

'Jim Brenson..Mevlida Kusturica...Corentin Agbapu..Natalie Gregoris..'

'Clearly the best you have put forward,' Dr. Heo responded. 'And it looks like we cannot hold back on the process, no?'

'Not with the premise Raoul-Christophe has already proposed for the film, I believe not. The entire supply chain of pink paint's already affected, as you may have seen the news, and possible methods of...recruitment for the extra cast has been underway in Ruland.'

'Mmm,' a single nod was made by Dr. Heo in agreement. He immediately figured out that an intervention would be needed on his end to perhaps aid in assuring clearance for the overseas filming of Barbenheimer at very least. 'It looks like the Foreign Office is also having problem with you, perhaps due to the Palace and Prince Philippe's ties to the state of Banija. Hence interference even though there exists little to talk between Perce Town and Montreal City.'

'I suppose so, father,' Myeong-Yoon answered.

'Fair enough, I will have a talk with Arsene and the Daemyeongoong Palace about it,' Dr. Heo said, who then pointed to Myeong-Shin, who was the only Saguenay grad in the lounge, which was still empty about half an hour later. Three hour and a half before the match itself had meant that most were still out tailgating, or in some cases, still travelling into the town, even more so with the exorbitant hotel prices on most nights anyway. 'You are fine, but we need to think about different things here.'

'Yes, please do say what's the matter, father,' said Myeong-Shin. Myeong-Shin's smile, one that he got from his late mother, has been a positive trait of his. Dr. Heo and his late wife, Maureen Turner, were used to hearing those comparisons, and they have only become more evident to him the older both of them had gotten. Or was it nostalgia? Hard to say really. 'I am sure that you've called me for different reasons.'

'Yes, that is absolutely correct,' Dr. Heo said. 'And I believe that this involves the future of The Praetorian, and those who will come after all of you. Maybe even the Praetorian itself.'

'But why now?' Myeong-Shin asked. 'You know I have little to nothing to do about it all and neither does Naomi.'

'But one of my grandchildren will, when the time is right. We have to think about the day when I will no longer be here to guide the Daemyeongoong Palace and to serve the Privy Council. You two, Lautner and Gyeong-Wan will be fine, and so will be Moishe. But when the time passes and our family branches out, we will have to think about this over again, and think into the future.'

'Father. None of your grandchildren are of age to start thinking about that side of the world,' Myeong-Shin said. Having gone through plenty of difficult events growing up in high school, even as he was the finest star of his sports then, he didn't exactly want to think about the future of his children with both him and Naomi kept things hands-off. 'Eldest is Sixth-Form year preparing for his baccalaureat and Conservatoire de Joongyeong examination, and the youngest five.'

'And we will have time for them, just one of them even, to develop into the right mould,' Dr. Heo smiled, as he looked back at them. 'But we will have to start thinking about this, because if there's anything I have seen from close families, it's that sometimes it's best to separate individual interests and businesses early in succession.'

'And what does that make of me?' Myeong-Shin asked. 'To be involved in a career I do not want?'

'Never, jamais, my son,' Dr. Heo cut him off. 'You shone the brightest on the fields of Stade Schwartz, or the baseball diamond of Mudeung Field. Your home is back in the diamond, and I don't want you to be forced into it all. Your late mother would never force you into it, and I would not either.'

Myeong-Yoon then realised that she had to interrupt. 'But, you want us three - that being me, Ian and Gyeong-Wan - to decide on what to do with Citeh, Rovers and Perce Town, right?' she asked. 'Dad, you are going out of point here.'

'Yes, and I think that it's prudent you keep the 49% you two share with Eidar Salihamidzic, the fine chap he is,' Dr. Heo said. 'But something will have to be done for the other two. That may require talking to Lautner or Ji - I could do it or one of you may choose to do so.'

A minute of silence followed. Eventually, they started to hear some noise outside of the lounge, at that point which they realised the silence had to end. 'I will talk to Ian,' Myeong-Shin answered, knowing that it's his best interest to talk to his friend at some point. 'You will have to help me when talking to Gyeong-Wan though. You've known him since he was a baby, and he's really looked up to you.'

'Of course, I will. What else can I do for my eldest.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 13 - Last Night of the QBC Proms - Myeong-Shin

Three months would pass since the Heo Myeong-Shin and Myeong-Yoon would talk to their father, the Privy Councilor and Royal Archives chair Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, about the possible measures to be taken to remanoeuvre around the sports ownership issue the two were respectively facing. Over the rest of the summer, the Heo family's main branch, that being those of the Professor's direct line via his two children with late Maureen Turner, had kept themselves busy.

Myeong-Yoon, the daughter of the family, had responded quickly to his father's call to resolve the situation as soon as possible. Speaking directly to the RQFA General Congress later that month, not as Ji's close relative or spouse of the Montesierra, but as a self-made Olympic gold medalist in women's basketball (not many held that distinction, after all), Heo tried her best to appeal to those of the general congress that her, Rico, and Club President Einar Salihamidzic prided themselves upon running a self-sufficient club driven by its youth academy and conscientious management, and had no reason to work closely with her cousin Gyeong-Wan. This argument, further compounded by the strong group of barristers and bullet-proof paperwork presented by Ji and his wife Maisie (Dreyfus-Millikens, after all, were of early Industrial Age moguls), seemed to have appealed enough to approve the retention of current ownership structure on that end.

The same did not exactly happen in the case of Myeong-Shin and Ian. For Lautner, 'Good Morning Quebec with Ian Lautner' had taken up every space of his head, while for Myeong-Shin, it was over his actual career which he valued dearly over those he delegated towards the Goldbloom-Heo Foundation run in his and his wife's name. Bugil College still had two more high school tournaments left to play in Bongwhanggi (Golden Dragon) and Hwanggeumsajagi (Golden Lion) championships, and having placed into the semifinals of the Hwangjebae (Her Majesty's Classic) back in late-February, Heo knew that this could be a good year to aim for a championship.

Fortunately, this did happen. They had fallen short in Bongwhanggi, where they would lose in the quarterfinals to a west coast prep school in Prince Eric College, but the combination of strong performance last year and the semifinals appearance at the Hwangjebae had meant that they would be invited back to Joongyeong for the third shot at the national championship. Feeling more at ease, and led by two complete games from starter Jean-Moseh Turpin, Bugil would win their next four games out of four to come ahead with their fourth Golden Lion, a first in 43 years since their 2018 victory.

For Heo, the final strikeout in balmy Joongyeong afternoon was a relief. He had won this competition before, exactly twenty-five years ago in 2061 as a sophomore, and had pitched two final pitches in the two finals. One went straight into Asher Lundrigan's catcher gloves for his 14th strikeout, other was hit by Theo-Alexandre Pinson for 'The Home Run', so he knew how difficult it was to win this specific title out of the quintet. Feeling satisfied with the outcome, and somewhat buzzed with the rumours that college programs and even QBO sides were looking to secure his services, Myeong-Shin went into the summer knowing that he had to take time off.

Unlike Myeong-Yoon, whose year-round schedule had meant she would be busy checking out the transfer window and working with the scouting team of her ventures, Myeong-Shin stayed mostly out of spotlight. He spent most of his times back in Kingston, looking after his two teenage kids Seung-Geon and Seung-Yeon, watched a few Tigers games, and ran clinics whenever possible. Heo, being one of few national icons in baseball (though plenty of football fans knew him as the legendary Hector Kweon-winning linebacker), did the very least he could do in the public, but otherwise stayed away.

This did not exactly mean that he would be able to fully stay away from participating in some of the great institutions that the country afforded to those at home and abroad. When the autumn term arrived at the hilly domains of Bugil College, Myeong-Shin had relatively little to do. He was still the preparatory school's employee, but baseball season was not to begin until after Winter Break in early-January, and his additional duties as an assistant housemaster had come with relative little tasks thanks to his senior, a 78-year old Cedric Lewis-Moh, had done impeccable job in keeping the dormitories well-regimented. Coach Heo, in exchange of delicacies he would offer in favour whenever he would go to Joongyeong, would use the opportunity to travel and visit the capitol, usually visiting his father and grandfather whenever possible but also to attend certain cultural functions.

This time, it was the Last day of the QBO Promenades. It was a particularly warm autumn day in Joongyeong with the sky full of red and yellow. Sitted on their box of the Grand Tier, on the other side of the Royal Box that Christine II would normally seat herself in, Heo Myeong-Shin and Ian Lautner were anything but following along the lighter, joyful classical pieces, especially those of patriotic fervour mixed with antics that the public would normally associate the highly-regardednight for. The covers afforded by the private box had no doubt meant that they would be left alone, for most part, though both Myeong-Shin and Ian's wives and children were busy tending to themselves that it was not exactly a quiet company.

'So, what is on your mind?' Ian asked. Seated with a grey suit and ties, and his brown hair well-glazed, Lautner looked more like a media personality than Hall of Fame quarterback used to escaping the limbs of the edge rushers. It was clear that after a decade, Ian had found himself in a comfortable state of his self in this city, the Eternal City of Lights that often intimidate the people with its history oozing through its lamps, raised roofs and boulevards, a surprising transformation still to this day considering his Montevician origins. 'Fearing your father?'

'Not really,' Myeong-Shin answered. 'If I had feared him then I would be the one running H&N, not the other way. But you know why my father doesn't want that, and would rather see me and Naomi doing what we pride ourselves for - coaching.'

'He trusts you,' Ian answered with a slightly higher pitch of voice. His husky voice, that of slightly higher pitch than his father, very much reminded those around them of their father, who was doing fine but had spells of hospital visits from time to time. He then switched topic and went forward to ask Myeong-Shin: 'As you might have suspected by now, I am serious with this idea...to sell the (Northanryun) Rovers. There are a few options, as you would suspect from the home of popular entertainment and money-laundering centre, but I think I'm on a good spot to drive things up.'

'That's good, probably makes things easier for us the rest of the way,' Myeong-Shin commented. 'You know too well that the Praetorian purchase isn't just because of my grandfather. It also involves yours too.'

'Absolutely,' Ian nodded, exactly knowing what he had meant. The Lautners, after all, held long ties to the Songak's pop art and music scene - his parents both came from Songak, with his mum Ada Silverberg, working at the Athlone Museum (yes, the one famous for its Gala) before moving to Montevicio for their jobs. 'It's in some ways paying tribute to my folks too.'

'But the bigger challenge would be to find an investment that's at very least comparable,' Myeong-Shin answered, trying his best to think about possible suggestions. 'Like though it's under H&N, we all know that's your money, and you aren't exactly going to spend it on something extravagant. Odette would go no on that, and you know she's going to be right.' This was true - his wife Odette Bolouque, who played basketball at Saguenay and then at the QWBL, was a frugal person. 'But if you aren't going to spend it on that round-shaped ball, what are you going to spend?'

'The Fighting Irish?'

'Once again, slightly awkward for either of us to invest it back to Saguenay. And you aren't going to just give money to USM after once scoring 70 on the Trojans aren't you?' They laughed as Myeong-Shin raised this, remembering that he also did an Education masters dgree at Queen's College, and Ian's mum Ada often worked with their art history department. 'Maybe we should think big.'

'QFL expansion franchise?'

Myeong-Shin quickly shook his head. 'Forget about that, Ian. You have your own show to run and that gets into a dodgy territory, especially since you are running a national television show with the QBC,' Myeong-Shin answered. 'That's exactly why we are having this talk, and why the Competition Office is still putting our proposal on hold until the goddamned Rovers sale is over and done with, and also why I can't just propose that we go bid on the Kingston Tigers.' He then closed his eyes, before apologising. 'Sorry about that - you know, we really shouldn't be dealing with this in middle of the Last Night of Proms-'

'No, no, it's fine,' said Ian. 'It's my fault.' He then resumed: 'So if we think big, maybe we'll have to go abroad and bid for a team abroad. You know that's not a bad idea, and I think a good number of bidders could be interested.'

'I'm all ears,' Myeong-Shin said.

'Why not an RFL franchise?' Ian raised. 'Fiston Redwolves and the Pittsburgh Ironmen I hear are out on the market.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 14 - Last Night of the QBC Proms - Ian

'That's interesting,' Myeong-Shin commented, as he heard the penultimate song of the Final Night of QBC Proms being played out. 'Hail Stadacona', a 1800s patriotic anthem that originally began as the coronation chant for the Alexandre I 'The Great' in 1726, the year of his coronation, was sung by Orlando Soto Reyna, a Nueva Orinoquian tenor in his mid fifties with strong sense of vibrato in his voice. Myeong-Shin and Ian, who were familiar with the classical music themselves thanks to matters of early-child education, had heard about his reputation as a prominent tenor, which included three stints with the Opera de Joongyeong in the past ten years.

The continued crescendo of the song, which was a natural in this part of the night's procession, was a good time for them to talk of more personal matters, which included a possible takeover bid involving one of the biggest, if not the biggest, gridiron league in the world. Myeong-Shin raised his voice: 'Those two are no doubt at the very polar opposites, and I do not know if you like either of them. You know what I mean, like it was just a year or two ago when they had a certain Petrogradian Mezzo(-soprano) and 300-something Glee-club teenagers who, in all fairness, were very impressive as choruses.'

'Yes, I suppose,' Ian commented. 'Before I forget, there's also New Quebec Fighters though in their case, the situation doesn't look so green, or so to speak.'

'Isn't that where Ernest Bello's playing? Everybody knows how impressive he had looked at Saguenay, in all fairness to them, and that no doubt led into a rather...interesting dillemma,' Myeong-Shin said. The level of hype Ernest Bello had received in the days between his final, graduate year with the Fighting Irish of their alma mater, Universite du Sagueay, and his first start at the RFL were anything but sane, with many proclaiming Bello, who had led the same program to their first and only semifinals finish, to be the next Dexter Ahn, Lautner himself, or even Sarai Gwenderyn in this part of the world. Of course, whether Bello had lived up to the hype is another story, but he was still carving out a strong career for himself. 'I hear that stayed mostly out of trouble, has learned plays well enough and should have a decent career in the RFL.'

Ian was convinced with his friend's analysis of Bello, who he did not exactly rate highly but still viewed to be a serviceable quarterback. Of course, barely any quarterbacks fit his mind, though much of the issues in his case was that Lautner preferred all-knowing pylons over more..mobility-driven quarterbacks. 'That's very much correct,' Ian said as he raised his eyebrows. 'And it's a decently run organisation, so I'm not going to be the one against them.'

'So we have the Fighters, the Ironmen and the Vamp..I meant Redwolves,' Myeong-Shin answered, right as they moved to the first incantation of the chorus, which went along the lines of Rule Stadacona, Stadaconans rule the waves. Shingoryeoites shall never be te slaves. 'Now we have a full slate. List me your thoughts on the Redwolves first then. You know the best about those quarterbacks yourself.'

Ian went straight to the analysis. 'You know their record, first, but let's look at it from stylistic approach,' Ian said. 'Fiston's a primarily offensively-minded team, and in all fairness it's well-built for that. They have one of the best halfbacks in the world, we all know who Jack Hoy is after all, and the line is fine offensively. Helene Lindebaum, she's another Fighting Irish graduate playing in the league, and centres both national team and the Redwolves, and it's a decent offensive unit. Could use a couple of receivers or tight ends, guys like that Horny Horton bloke.

'Or a guy from Ratzupalfu or Richardson. But cut straight to the focal point, my friend,' said Myeong-Shin. 'Proudfoot, Lane.'

'He's a franchise quarterback, played for Cavsar where he showed in his senior year that for project guys like him, it's just the matter of if or when they finally put everything together. Once that happened he became one of the best in the World, arguably even more underrated than he already is, but this is something that happens when your private life is...yes, even muddier than the rainy fields of Ratzupalfu. None of us have played in one, but you know what I mean.'

'Too much of a liability are you saying?' Myeong-Shin asked. 'I mean, we've seen those before. Just ask the CSKA or Fontvielle Impact when Marco Hertel was still playing. And he's still not really allowed back into Quebec past certain number of days without the RQP (Royal Quebecois Police) escorting him, precisely for the reasons that only you and me know,' he added, making sure to add a mention of Marco Hertel. 'The most openly-prowling warlord out there.'

He knew that one of the most talented footballers in Quebec the past twenty years has only added layers of infamy since retirement, from being guarded by five-hundred policemen on his way from Joongyeong Airport to the PlayToy Mansion (OOC: keep in mind this is specifically to avoid certain friend of Myeong-Shin from coming near his presence, as ordered by the Daemyeonggoong Palace), to quietly fielding a personal army of own named Marco's Slaves. The rumours on the town were that he, who was canonised as 'San Marco' in Ruland on the other side of Inner AO, were ready for an inevitable advance on 'Big Bad Farolera'.

'Precisely, I'm sure the Lissoubas would have some serious words about Praxis Collingwood and her child, Jimothy. Don't forget that there appears to be a child custody case that will activate the moment Proudfoot arrives in Quebec. Lissouba appears to be insistent, especially since it involves one of the Forest City Athletic players,' Ian said, before continuing. 'Just too much of liability that would get us in dogwater. Not because of antitrust or conflict of interest this time, but the morality reasons. It would not look good on me, nor you or anybody else really.'

'Of course not,' Myeong-Shin answered. 'You know as well as I do, arguably even more because you run a QBC show in Sunday morning. The most primetime slot out there in the television,' he then briefly turned around to look at the chorus continuing to blast. They were in middle of the second verse. 'What about the Ironmen?'

'You know them as well as I do,' Ian said. 'In another life, we would have been Saint John Steelers fans or players.'

How cruel the life's coincidences would be. They both knew, especially considering that Ian Lautner would go onto play for two teams that the Steelers themselves had a long history of rivalry against - Joongyeong Voyageurs with their star logo, and Attawapiskat Broncos who had faced the Steelers no less than fifteen times in past half-century - but it was every bit respectable of franchises. But the comparison, whether true or not, had suggested the level of irony if Ian were to make a bid for the Ironmen. 'Belfort, Eden Park, Benn-Kocian, that's a World-Bowl winning defensive front seven, let alone the RFL.' Myeong-Shin noted. 'But not exactly what you are looking for, I assume not.'

Ian shrugged, before giving Myeong-Shin a glare of knowing. 'It's a tempting proposition, don't get me wrong, but wouldn't it be easier to build up on a more...open kind of organisation? One with an emptier slate, so to speak.' Ian said. 'As owners and executives, you cannot try to mould a team into something that they are not, even less so if they are known for a certain brand of play. This is different than if you could clean up the image of an organisation, but that's a Fiston kind of problem, not that of either Pittsburgh or New Quebec. I'm sure we've seen that with the Rovers, where I have mostly kept things going the way they were, or Perce Town, where the city size had dictated the market approach for the club.'

Myeong-Shin immediately understood what he was going for. He, after all, had played into two extremes of successful franchises in his playing days - Kingston 'Brokeball' Tigers and Concord Heights 'Los Pinstripes' Royals. There was no right or wrong model of ideal franchise in their case, but what was made clear to those joining the organisations, as he had experienced twice, was that you don't try to change things without a valid reason. And there existed no reason for either. 'So you are suggesting that the Fighters would be easier to at least work things out, so to say,' Myeong-Shin said.

'Precisely,' Ian answered. 'It's a longer project, but we will be at least keeping things more in line with what the Ranorians have over there. We the people from the motherland, keeping things happy. Building things up for when the Father Time provides the way.'

'I suppose that is not a bad idea,' Myeong-Shin nodded right as they would go into the final round of chorus.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 15 - Last Night of the QBC Proms - Raoul-Christophe (2.0)

It was at that point when Ian and Myeong-Shin were disrupted by a familiar presence. Noticing a certain Raoul-Christophe Kim, a 33-year-old man who wore a blue, well-tailored suit with his own goggles, entering the box, they immediately noticed that whatever the merger discussions they were to have required some thinking back at Ian and Odette's place after the show. 'Crud, why is he here today?' Ian said to Myeong-Shin, as they saw the son of the former Prime Minister of fourteen years being no less courteous, even going as far as to give light neck bow to Ian and Odette's youngest, Alana. 'Does he have no respect for some peaceful time of pomp and circumstance-'

'There is no peace attached to pomp and circumstance, Ian,' Myeong-Shin answered back. 'But young Raoul-Christophe does look every bit dandy his father was, is and will be, though too bookish to be a Prime Minister. Not a fancy sport at least in practice.'

'He's here for other reasons, isn't it?' Ian said. 'The young buck knows everybody, or at least purports to do so.' That more or less gave them a clearer hint, especially considering that Raoul-Christophe himself worked under the Intergovernmental Office, which often addressed queries between the ministries, and also between two-levels of governance. But this was also because Raoul-Christophe, who read history eight years below Christine II and Asher Lundrigan, had interned at the Royal Archives of Shingoryeo under Myeong-Shin's father, Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, and had often been present for meetings between Arsene and Dr. Heo, who held cordial relations thanks to latter being one of last postgraduate students of Raoul-Christophe's grandfather, Dr. Kim Sang-Doh, at St. Croix. 'So he's probably here to give an update. Perhaps unwillingly so.'

'Messieurs, Heo and Lautner,' said Raoul-Christophe as he gave both of them a neck bow, a suggested sign of respect he held towards the two. Hierarchy in Quebec and Shingoryeo was a weird creature, even more because it did not always tie itself towards the age, but also held the mix of familial ties and status one had held as whole. 'I believe that we have a lead into your respective situations regarding the sale.'

'Do say it please, Raoul-Christophe,' Ian said. 'Why didn't you contact us to go the other box's way? Aren't the Kims supposed to be sitting on the other box?'

'Dear father, I meant Sir. Arsene Pineau Kim, is currently occupied to his duties, and I'm afraid it would constitute as a conflict of interest if Madame Casavant were to contact us directly over it.' This part was true, for the Casavants, young Raoul-Christophe's family, were known for their longtime involvement in CSKA Quebec dating back into 1980s. 'Anyways, the good news is that the RQFA situation with Perce Town and Montreal City should be resolved as fine, provided Mr. Lautner sell Northandryun Rovers by the year's end.'

'That's not exactly the issue, from what I do know of the situation,' Ian answered. 'Year's end would give us even more time, even.'

Raoul-Christophe continued to speak. 'That is a great news, dear sir, because we have a few matters to settle on the other ends as well.' He coughed, before continuing to speak. 'As for Montesierra's permit to film Barbenheimer in Ruland, the situation will require a bit more time. I am currently in discussion with the PMO (Prime Minister's Office) to simplify the procedure, but the matter appears to be blocked by a certain high-ranking royal whose status is tied to that of Busukuma and the Royal Quebecois Navy.'

Ian and Myeong-Shin remained quiet, as Raoul-Christophe continued to speak. 'I'm sure both of you, having been part of the high society for long in this country, and in Mr. Heo's case, abroad too, know the significance of the Navy and the Commonwealth this holds. And it is as clear as possible that His Royal Highness is having his part in doing his part by intervening on that with the National Film Council and the Foreign Office.'

'Well that's great. Bloody fucking Philippe, that bastard doing his best to keep us out of our own project,' Myeong-Shin said, his temper ticking right at that very moment upon the commentary. 'Well, is there anything we can do about the situation without pissing off Busukuma or the Palace?'

'Not on your end, no, but keep in mind that there is not much you two, dear gents, or even your sister could do part,' Raoul-Christophe said. 'But I felt that it's wise to give you and Mr. Lautner a clearer sense of where we are going for, especially since we have a three-way problem or so to speak. First problem is that of Montesierra filming in middle of Ruland, putting the lives of hundreds if not thousands by going to the live warfields. Then, the second problem is the very ownership saga involving a half-dozen football clubs and addendum. Finally, the third problem is that two aforementioned problems end up clogging the fairly straightforward process that is the acquisition of one of our finest institutions internationally and at home.'

'You read the Praetorian? This is news to me,' Myeong-Shin raised his eyebrows. 'I thought you would be the very Taegukgi reader your father or the Agrippa-le-Grand kids would be known for.'

'I'm a Voyageurs fan who listens to country and fanboy Raphael Bentick (Grim Reapers and Jeongju Javelins' TE -e.d-) and Alison Swann (OOC: Quebecois equivalent of Taylor Swift), yes,' Raoul-Christophe responded, his response much drier than just fifteen seconds earlier. Being a Voyageurs fan right in the first decade of Ian Lautner's career no doubt influenced the dynamic of this situation, and he couldn't exactly hide the giddiness that would come up whenever he had to use 'Mr. Lautner' instead of 'Ian', 'Le capitain', etc. 'As you could see the second problem is more or less resolved, but the first one will require intervention beyond your control, respectively so, and only then we will see the third problem resolved.'

'Yes, we see that, Raoul-Christophe. But I don't think you are here for that, aren't you?' Ian said, cutting straight to the chase. 'There's got to be another problem that had happened between June and now, that the PMO or the Palace is dealing with, or something that his father-' He looked at Myeong-Shin, who admittedly had not been not the one most communicative to his father on his affairs. 'Has to handle.'

'Precisely so, dear sir,' Raoul-Christophe gave back a smile. 'There is a fourth problem. It will likely involve the Doc to handle it himself, but could be used as a leverage tool to address the First Problem and the Third Problem. The PMO is hesitant to address them, especially since they wish not to intervene on the Rulandese Front of the Great War of Farfadillis, but I don't think what they fear is so much of an issue after all, especially if they could just pass off Marco Hertel's possible role in the future as that of an individual deviation. I'm sure both of you, especially Mr. Heo, agree on this as much as I do.'

'Precisely so,' Myeong-Shin said. 'If the PMO is too hesitant to address, but may or may not involve our fathers and the Privy Council, what the hell would it be?'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

PART 16 - That Summer - Underground

While all of the humanly, philistinish affairs were going on among the educated, accomplished men and women of the society, there was an isolated area. Well within the confines of the City of Joongyeong proper, and very much reachable within the convenient landmarks and the tourist destinations of the Eternal City of Lights, there was an underground complex of archives.

Comprised of two major agencies - The Chunchugwan Institute of History (CIH, more commonly shortened to Chunchugwan), which chronicles all Annales of the Shin-goryeoite Dynasty, and the Royal Archives of Shingoryeo (RAS), where the Royal House of Jeongs held their respective records - the two institutions were separate agencies, though affiliated, from the Archives Nationales de Shingoryeo (ANS). Often the CIH and RAS employees belonged to the ANS, but there were a good number of employees who, being part of more exclusive staff group dedicated to the Annals of the Shingoryeoite Dynasty, did not get hired via that pathway. They, who would handle specific events and chapters issued to their fields of specialisation, would solely report to their higher-ups (usually by seniority, though exceptions would exist), who would then forward the individual archivist's ticket to the deputy-chair and sometimes to the Chair of either archive.

In the 2060-62 cycle that would conclude with the future hosting of the 2062 Afanc Strait-Jolbonopolis Olympic Games, approximately 1,258 archivists and attached staff members were employed for the two organisations. The hirees, who would wait a year-long hiring process (unpaid) and then two-year provisionary process (paid), required Developed Vetting (DV, third and highest level of security clearance for Quebecois citizens) with them hiring archivists who would often be handpicked from the universities across Quebec and Shingoryeo and abroad. Most of them you would not know of their identity - being given strong job security and highly favourable working conditions, especially when not under the usual symptoms of procastinations, they loyalty the archivists held to their institution and the Daemyeonggooong Palace were suprespilled to the public much beyond vague details.

Some of the most renowned professors of the country and abroad would work as part-time and full-time employees. This was indeed the case in past, where the nine Lotus League institutions, headed by the Big Two of St. Croix and Farrer universities, would usually have the finest teachers, but in the past decade the practices have somewhat expanded thanks to our world growing bigger and wider. Nowadays, work arrangements would be established under collective bargaining agreement the Privy Council and the Daemyeonggoong Palace had agreed upon, and in some cases the Archivists themselves would work under greater liberty thanks to the availability of teleworking and continued digitisation of the Annals and the RAS archival materials.

---

And like that, Raoul-Christophe was back in the 11 Gwangmoo. The Prime Ministerial residence was where his parents Arsene and Meghan (nee Casavant) called home for fourteen, illustrated years of Prime Ministership, yet he had spent so little time there. When his father was elected in the 2043 elections, Raoul-Christophe was fifteen years old. Having entered his freshman year at the His Majesty's School in Songak, the city of his father's constituency, he had boarded there for all four years before going onto read history and classics at St. Croix. So he, even as the son of the Prime Minister, held little memory of the place by the time Arsene had retired from the Prime Ministership and moving onto a comfier, but just as demanding position as the Privy Council Chair.

Even by those terms, however, Raoul-Christophe was surprised to see that he was asked to report to him by the Prime Minister. Irene Kweon Binnington, for all the praises that she had drawn in both municipal and federal politics, was an antithesis to her father. Coming from the NPD as the daughter of a famous labour organiser in Twin Cities, Kweon Binnington was a woman both icy and yet anxious, whose republic-an (separate from republican in the American sense) stance she had to fold to advance her political career. Riding motorcycles, loving heavy metal and cheering for Saint John Steelers and Twin Cities Celtics of all teams (but ambivalent to other hometown teams), Irene was every bit an opposite of her suave, preppy father and her high-flying, well-dressed mother both of Joongyeongite breed.

And yet common comparisons were made between Arsene and Irene over their way of execution. Both figures preferring to be action-first, even if the principles may differ, they prioritised actions over words and were not short of bringing any personnel, even those at the entry level of federal service. That, perhaps, was why Raoul-Christophe was not surprised his father would privately praise Irene over his own predecessor (and longtime political rival), Jacques Lee Ellington, though it was unclear for Raoul-Christophe whether this would help him any bit further.

'I hear that multiple Freedom of Information requests were filed towards multiple Federal offices, which include and are not limited to: the Ministry of Defence, the Foreign Office, Bibliotheque Nationale de Shingoryeo, and the Daemyeonggoong Palace. Specifically over a certain line of enquiry that involves an obscure naval incident abroad back in the Southern Rushmori War.' Irene asked coldly to Raoul-Christophe. 'Are you aware of this specific request by any chance, Mr. Pineau Kim?'

'No,' Raoul-Christophe answered. He had no reason to specifically answer that question - eight-seventeen was too early in the morning to do so - and besides, he had only spent the night with her at her apartment the last time he saw her. Having woken up late, and with them going straight to the Cafe Acadienne for the lunch, there was no chance Raoul-Christophe would have found out.

'But it's not even over the basic matters of war. I don't think it is a matter of coincidence that an unnamed authority from Portelo, whose address would redirect to an university preparatory school, would call for a FOI request without a valid reason,' Irene shot back. 'There has to be something attached that is beyond our control, and likely to our implication, but still considered important enough for the Intergovernmental Office and the Privy Council to search. What would be possible options?' she asked.

Raoul-Christophe closed his eyes, before immediately having a light in his eyes. Perhaps it would be over Palace files, especially if it involves an old Prince...whose name was it? He had remembered watching a documentary about Henri VII, the warrior king who led Quebec and the allied forces to victory, a week ago. There there were multiple mentions of his brothers, Alexandre VI and Philippe IV, with a couple of royal historians talking about their family sagas.

'Perhaps it's to do with the Daemyeonggoong Palace, ma'am,' Raoul-Christophe answered, remembering the basic detail he had accrued from his terms working as BNS intern while studying at St. Croix. 'If the FOI requests had bounced around between the Government Offices, and would end up bouncing into the BNS and the Palace, then that suggests that what the files this...Azurean authority seeks to have, is likely beyond our control.'

'I see now,' Irene dropped her voice, trying to act calm even if her smiles suggested more of joy. At least, she didn't have to deal with the possible political implications, and could gladly throw it to the Palace should this end up becoming a problem. 'In that instance, would it be possible for you to deal with the BNS or the RAS? It appears that the records from that era are not exactly available in the Annals, at least from what I could imply.'

'Likely not, especially when considering the impossible lengths of records the Chunchugwan and the RAS staff would collect. I am sure that you would know this just as well as I do based on the records of Sylvain IV's annals released just last year.' Raoul-Christophe answered. 'But in this case, I'm sure that the request could have gone the way of the RAS.'

'In that case, would you able be able to contact Dr. Heo, the chief archivist at the RAS, and address the FOI request?' Irene asked.

'Your wish is in my command, ma'am,' he answered. Raoul-Christophe then gave a light neck bow to the Prime Minister, before heading out.

---

Being the Head of both underground Archives - that being the RAS and the Chunchugwan - were no average man's job. Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, having been in charge of the Archives for past eighteen years, was more than aware of the difficulties that had come with that, and have at various points over the past decade considered retirement. But each time he had requested a sense of duty, combined with the recommendation by Christine II to hold off for a year or two more until a succession plan was to be made, made him withdraw his words and stay into the position, perhaps for his remaining years to come.

Of course, this had partly to do with the difficulty of the work. The work at the Chunchugwan, for most part, was self-directed and in some ways, without a full-time need for the Universite St. Croix Professor to oversee. Every day and night, millions of files - both physical and photocopied - would be brought to the P8-floor basement of the mostly-underground building, and they would quickly be re-sorted into categories and eras after being brought up by multiple cargo elevators. The archivists, for most part, would find themselves enamoured by the volume of materials and their sheer potential, to the point where the scale of the fonds and the boxes would be re-distributed and sorted at a rather self-controlled pace.

This was a slightly different affair at the Royal Archives, where Dr. Heo had to keep a closer rein on the materials. While most of the digital or digitised materials themselves held multiple copies, and were safe from destruction, the nature of the collections which included and were not limited to diaries, letters, papers and related records of the Royal House and related authorities, had meant that they often required careful storage and control of access towards the file.

This also meant that the requests for the public access of the RAS materials were limited, with the designating criteria being the past research history, security profile and most importantly needs of the researchers involved. This also meant that the position of RAS Chair was normally delegated towards the past Principal Secretary of the monarch. Dr. Heo, who was by no means one, was an outlier, a personal appointment made by Christine II after the retirement of Sir. Alexandre Kim, the secretary of both her and her late father for fifteen years at that point, on the second year of her reign.

Sitting on his pine-and-mahogany office at the Office, Dr. Heo found himself occupied with his own research both as faculty and historian, though he would offer advice from time to time. He was a man of relatively simple tastes and routines (even if they were lazy) and lived with his elderly father who had just reached one-hundred years of life. Having raised two high-flying children decades prior with their own lives right as his budding academic career had propelled, he found a compensatory sense of joy in being able to spend more time in writing about the political philosophies of Henri VIII, who he held great respect and had even met quite recently so (wait how?), or the past two-hundred years of modern Quebeco-Petrogradian relations.

But from time to time, guests beyond the usual realms or the RAS/CIH would come and ask about specifics, and he was not shy of providing them more direct advice or answering more specific enquiries. For most part they would be coming from a past student, or like-minded historians who would request private audience or for recommended materials, and Dr. Heo would gladly comply to them as well.

This time, however, Dr. Heo would find himself being in a more complicated situation when Raoul-Christophe Kim, a past student and an intern of his to say the least, would call him back. What do I have anything to do with intergovernmental affairs? was the first thought he held inside his head when Raoul-Christophe sent his regards via email, asking for a quick question at the Office. I won't refuse, but there's got to be a good reason. It's better to ask on phone if it's something that urgent, with so few words to be shared.

Twenty-four hours would pass, and the younger man sat right in front of him on a small, wooden chair. From the awkward, and yet giddy glare, Dr. Heo could sense that he wasn't exactly present for anything of self-interest, but wanted to know why a high-ranked deputy minister would bother to meet him this early in the morning. 'What's the matter, boy?' Dr. Heo asked, grumpiness and mischievousness in his voice both evident. 'You know that I, having read my doctorate under your late grandpa, am always welcome to help, but you do have to tell me what's the matter that requires my attention.'

'Good morning, sir, it is my pleasure,' Raoul-Christophe said. 'My mother and father would like to send your

'Just cut straight to the chase, dear Raoul-Christophe,' Arsene shrugged it off while nodding to it. He had heard enough of Raoul-Christophe's usual formalities, no matter how he, who himself was a practitioner of them, liked them. 'You don't have a lot of time, and the Archives aren't your domain no more!'

'So this involves the recently declassified files involving the Alexandre VI, who you would remember as the Henri VII's younger brother,' the deputy intergovernmental minister continued to explain. 'I'm sure you would remember him the best for his naval heroics, most notably on no less than a half-dozen battles fought over the Southern Rushmori War, and also for his part in the diplomatic missions to much of Rushmore in place of Catherine III.'

Raoul-Christophe feared harsh response from his former teacher, whose obsessions towards getting the facts right had brought fear into many of his students, but instead what followed was a smile. 'Yes, les Fonds-Evry, named after the Rue d'Evry where he had lived for most of his officer years,' Dr. Heo said, the elderly man lighting a cigarette before offering one to Raoul-Christophe. 'Do you still smoke?'

'No, sir, my fiancee has asthma,' answered Raoul-Christophe. 'But thank you for the offer regardless.'

'Ah no worries,' Dr. Heo left a light response. 'Yes, those, if I recall correctly, finally declassified last May after arriving at the Archives in 1978. Seventy-seven year period of confidentiality, but from what I have heard there were some issues...in clearing certain details regarding the security, that the Admiralty had to ask a couple of actual staffers to hold off until the time's right.' He then coughed, before continuing. 'So if there's anything, I could tell you that it did surprise me somewhat when it was finally declassified, and even more so now that somebody wants to read over it.'

'So you are suspecting that there's a possible chance the Daemyeonggoong Palace may have intervened with the files themselves, at least based on their own suspicions,' Raoul-Christophe suggested. 'That would be quite unusual.'

Dr. Heo's eyes lit up. 'You see, my boy,' he said, as the fumes started to thicken into the room after two deep puffs. 'I think I have a rough suspicion, and I'm sure you very much could guess those are. You have lived all your life in this city, or attended school in Songak, where you have met all peoples of colours and occupations, all in high classes or exceptional abilities, walking around.'

He then dropped the half-smoked cigarette burn in the ashtray and asked. 'Now remind me once again - who's the diamond of the Joongyeong season?'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 17 - Tri-Provincials (Hibernation Period) - Hae-Seung

Another month or two would pass between then and the OFSAA tri-provincials.

As the one of the largest cities in the country, Kingston wasn't exactly known for a fervent gridiron tradition. The city itself, being ever diverse and cosmopolitan in makeup thanks to the Mahan province being particularly open on immigration, has seen the inner core shift into diversification of sports, while the more traditional audience for the sports would move into the surrounding satellite cities. The city's Midtown was on itself not a big exception, though in their case the presence of traditional high school programs, who themselves were located on affluent neighbourhoods and fielded legendary alumni in both sports, media and the politics, continue to stay relevant in the public limelight.

The usual big names, like Northbrook Secondary (usually known as the Voc, attribution to their reputation as a vocational school), Lang Park (the Preppies) or Erskine were known names within the city and in the case of NSS and ECI, also the national powerhouses. For Northbrook, who themselves had 2,400 students, they usually played in the 6A division reserved for the tri-provinces' largest schools and had their own stadium with historic, gigantic stands that could seat 8,000 while Erskine, whose admission and boundary requirements were much stricter at 1,200 students, themselves were located right next to Linton subway station and fielded a smaller, but more modest stadium of 2,000. On most years Northbrook would have no trouble forming fifty-player squads and a junior squad of seventy, Lang Park would have two squads of thirty-fives, Erskine would normally be able to field a JV team every other year, and maybe be lucky at forty-five players a game.

And yet it was Erskine who were known as the autumn victors in this city that had relatively little interest in collegiate sports compared to rest of the country. Being in a different classification to Northbrook, who were double their size and thus rarely competed against them on playoffs, had something to do with it, but they have not lost to Lang Park in fifteen years either. If anything, what many had feared to be the return of a boom-bust cycle for the Redmen have been quashed by a pretty solid, though somewhat unceremonious record they have had over the past twenty years since their last golden age, when a certain Heo Myeong-Shin played rover and Samuel Carlini-Mwambutsya rushed for over 3,000 yards in four years to three titles in mid-late 2030s.

Perhaps this was also why it came as a surprise to many fans out there, when they would find out that this would be only Erskine Redmen's second trip to AAAA Championship Game since the 2038 Final. Even with the high school (and to some extent collegiate, no wonder both local unis just suck at football!) football not being on a full swing, the tri-provincial Championship games always brought out the finest of crowds. Sure, much of it was also to do with playing in the Pavel Wilson Stadium, where Sir. Dexter Ahn had played out his final half-decade of his legendary career with the Argonauts, but it's also to do with the intensity of the playoffs that would bring out thousands of fans, who were usually from the rural or suburban communities that had the drawing power of their own locale.

With the Erskine crowd, things were slightly different though. Their games, led by a media-savvy physics teacher Mr. Joel Liu-McKevitt who himself was an alumnus from those mid-2030s teams, were regularly broadcasted on local channels and their last championship game appearance eight years ago, when they had lost to Pahkatequayang South squad on their threepeat run, was broadcasted on the True North Sports. But what was the true draw were the star-studded alumni, who always managed to find ways to funnel funds, talks and whatnot whenever the school needed at the Erskine Foundation, and they were out in full force at the stands as they watched the Redmen take on the Westvale Secondary on a seven-thirty kickoff. Both Erskine and Westvale have taken almost a decade to come back, with the inner-city Hamilton school who have made their first final in nine years, and thus both communities have brought out their finest alumni, with former including the former Premier Elsie Carneiro who was also longtime mayor of Hamilton for twenty years, and the latter the Heo twins, Samuel and legendary centre Riley Jeon-Keane. Naturally, they were the ones standing on the front row of the stands with their old gear back on, and shouting cheers respectively to the player(s) of their interest, perhaps made easier by the availability of the game program.

---

Pregame

Heo Hae-Seung felt a certain sensation going down to the bones, when he walked out of the tunnel and entered into the 48,000-seat cavern of the Pavel Wilson Stadium. The stadium, which recorded a sellout, was packed with noise and Heo, being the starting quarterback and free safety, no doubt felt that he was at the centre of the name. Him and his good friend, Tight End/Linebacker Keon Atkinson-McNair, were the two big names of this Erskine squad that had eyed on their first OFSAA title in twenty-three years and he, having already felt this with the Redmen baseball team for first three years when they had won one each on his sophomore and junior year, knew this was an important moment for the duo and the team.

The weight of the name, thought Hae-Seung, as he would then move to the sidelines, thinking carefully about the playbook and what audibles to run. He knew that being a Heo, even if coming from the secondary branch of the family, held a significant weight on the name. When Hae-Seung had first arrived at the Erskine Collegiate as a scrawny son of the band teacher, Myeong-Joo Heo-Dallaire, some of the teachers would immediately ask if he was related to the famous Heo siblings who they have had many recollections as students, and the cycle would continue as Hae-Seung would progress into a solid football player and excellent shortstop prospect.

It was then that he would hear a familiar voice. 'Yo, Hae-Seung, whatcha doing mate?'

The first person to break Hae-Seung's zen mode, of course, was his friend Keon. Unlike Hae-Seung, who grew up with a fairly normal life, Keon was by all means familiar to the life of being a son of two famous people, actress Jodie Atkinson and Hall of Fame quarterback Alton McNair. Moving to the Midtown Kingston when his father Alton retired from his playing career to settle into a front office role with the Kingston Argonauts, Keon Atkinson-McNair found the life of a footballer his course. Standing at 6'5" and 235 pounds, Keon had managed to impress scouts enough times to secure a commitment to his father's Saguenay Fighting Irish, a rare one coming from high school juniors in Quebec.

'Bitch, I'm getting ready for the zone,' Hae-Seung answered back with a glee. 'Tis gonna be the day.'

'Dang straight,' Keon answered with a high-pitched tone. 'If today's not gonna be the day, when will it be? Taco Tueeeeeeesday?'

'Ain't gonna be no Taco Tuesday if you guys ain't focusing,' answered coach Liu-McKevitt. A man of his mid-forties, he was a senior when Myeong-Shin was a freshman, and Samuel, Myeong-Yoon and Asher were all back in year eight. Burly, dark-bearded man standing tall, he played guard and centre at Mount Ester University before returning to his alma mater to coach, first as offensive coordinator and now head coach. 'This is it, guys. One last game of the season. We will go out there, have a blast, and win it. If we lose, this won't be on you, this will be on me. Understood?'

'Aye, aye, Mr. McKevitt!' came the thirty-something responses from the players.

'When I was your age, the Fighting Irish were killing the game. They always had the strongest offensive line, mauled with their front seven well and dictated the flow. We ain't got no Laut-nah or McNair here, but we have the next best thing,' he would quickly smile back at Keon and Hae-Seung, 'and thirty-two of you all are part of the fucking danddiest squad I have seen since those Irish sides twenty years back.'

He then briefly stopped, letting his players focus on him, before closing it well. 'Let's fucking play like them, 1-2-3,'

'Redmen!' The players roared as they shouted into the huddle, before their making way back into the sidelines ahead of the coin-flip.

---

First Quarter

'So that's the young Hae-Seung, eh?' said Ian, who was wearing a plain black jacket with a blue tie that had light strips of gold in them, as the first quarter was underway. The score was 0-0, with the Westvale offence having entered the endzone. 'He doesn't exactly look like you.'

'Is that a compliment?' Myeong-Shin answered as they tried their best to analyse the defensive positioning. Hae-Seung, from the sounds of it, had western half of Quebec's size of backfield to handle at the red zone, and it looked clear to them that Erskine were running a 4-6 formation. 'That's a 4-6, so six-man pass rush if they choose to pass.'

'A retro, isn't it?' Ian commented. 'Those, you know, we never practiced those out in Montevicio. Too easy to get burned out on man-to-man coverages.' While rarely used in the college football, it would be used by some high school programs to focus on taking away the running game early and fast, and from the gist of it, Myeong-Shin and Ian could figure out on the spot that either Erskine had relied on Hae-Seung a lot on the backfield, or that Westvale were going to grind out the clock. So far, it looked like both.

'Erskine doesn't have the skill guys to make a difference on corner, I'm afraid,' Myeong-Shin answered, remembering his days. 'Those guys, if they fast and have a bit of ego on them, they were Northbrook bound. Even when I was playing we were playing down a corner, so the key was to take over on the line of scrimmage early.'

'So it's the matter of collapsing the pocket, don't let them rush inside and maybe let the linebackers work out the outside by going back a step or two if the ball's handed off to the halfback,' Lautner asked.

'Precisely. Always risky, I'd not do that if I were the DC, but I think Joh (Hyeon-Weon) trusts the kid enough to not lose the step. Probably the sign of confidence being a shortstop prospect,' Myeong-Shin nodded, watching as the Westvale quarterback got out of the huddle to call a play. 'And one with a good eye of the ball.'

The ball was snapped, immediately putting into the motion as Erskine sent six players to the pass rush. With the Redmen pass rush led by Keon, who disengaged the left-tackle with a spin move of his own, the friends watched as the quarterback, whose pocket held on for just enough time, pulled back, before throwing it quickly to the wideout making his way for the endzone.

The ball was thrown right on time, evading the long, gaping limbs of Keon Atkinson-McNair and a defensive tackle. The throw was excellent with the right trajectory established and for most part, as it moved towards the receiver, it briefly looked like it was going to be a thirty-one yard touchdown.

Myeong-Shin and Ian had looked at the very pass quickly, with both of them moving themselves close to the front. What they had not anticipated, however, was how prepared Hae-Seung was in anticipating the pass, and as he sidestepped correctly to cover the wideout of concern, he had lost little time and reach in finding for the ball. Then the next thing they would draw a single gasp, as the ball was caught in the left hand of Hae-Seung, who would then leap over the pile of bodies in front of him and started running his way across the field.

The stadium had erupted into a roar as they watched Hae-Seung run his way, aided by the carefully-placed blocks of his teammates. 'Go get it son! Standing room only!' Myeong-Shin shouted, feeling even more proud upon seeing his nephew rushing his way. 'Fucking drive it back!'

'He's got it,' answered Ian, as he watched Hae-Seung reach the 40 yard mark, before it would become 30, 20 and then 10 yard. A 97-yard pick six it was, with Hae-Seung celebrating on the endzone aided by Keon and hi teammates. Some of the Erskine fans who had managed to find their seats on that side of the lower bowl were livid, with them blowing Vuvuzelas and lighting hand-held flares coloured in red.

Myeong-Shin remembered how things were like that just when he was playing for the Redmen. He had one of those pick sixes while a player, precisely on his sophomore year when he had intercepted a short play-action pass intended for the Northbrook tight end on a rival match against the Knights, and after a spin move or two, would manage to find the end-zone on his own. But he, while recording multiple sacks on the OFSAA finals, had stayed consistent but not otherworldly, and this was something that he found his nephew in awe.

It was then that Ian had to cough a bit. 'Now, excuse me,' Ian said, before asking again. 'Why the hell is he not playing football for the Irish or the Gaels?'

'Well first, his mother said no on that,' Myeong-Shin answered. 'and second, the kid knows he's probably better off focusing as a shortstop once the college comes calling. He's already fundamentally there, as you could see from the mechanics, and he doesn't waste much effort or footwork. It looks like the Tigers or the (Blue) Jays will draft him on the first stage of draft when he graduates from college.'

'He has the grades outside of St. Croix and Farrer, but Saguenay's already written out unless he improves on his French,' Myeong-Shin then continued. 'And the kid's not gonna be a Gael either. Grandpa's brother went to LNU and my cousins from that side were all Mustangs, so it's unlikely they are going to play for the Gaels just to follow that name.'

'USM or Yoseo-Montevicio bound perhaps?' Ian asked. Both his hometown schools, Southern Manitoba and Yoseo-Montevicio, were renowned for consistently fielding top 10-ranked sides in baseball thanks to having a favourable weather and athletics administration that was more open than other schools of similar stature.

'Likely, the kid doesn't like cold weather. South Bend's too cold for him.'

'Shame because remind me once again, who are the defending College Series champions?' They then gave a light giggle, as the kicking team got into the motion for an extra point attempt that was good.

---

Second Quarter

And onto the second quarter they were, as the Erskine Redmen would go onto battle the Westvale SS. Both Erskine and Westvale were traditional collegiate schools located in a more inner core of their respective cities, with neither team having a particular reputation for talent hotbeds. Sure, Westvale have had four alumni to the QFL squads as of last year, and people would remember Erskine fondly of the likes of Guy Rimpel, a ten-year QFL quarterback, and the famed mid-thirties cohort, but both teams lived and died by the art of grinding out the rushing attack aided by the well-coached superiority on the line of scrimmage.

Even with both their respective histories, they have not played each other in some time wih exactly fifty-four years have passed since they have played in the OFSAA tri-provincials. So both sides, even with all the game tape made available, were entering into unknowns, meaning that they would have to scramble with their best talent and figuring out through tiniest of margins.

This was exactly what happened in the first half as the Redmen's 100-yard pick-six were successfully countered by a 81-yard rushing touchdown from their halfback Isaiah Gollis, who had managed to deke past four opposite defenders to tie it back. A quick Heo Hae-Seung pass to Keon Atkinson-McNair would then push the Redmen up for a lead, and after a stoppage at third-and-one, the Redmen would go into the first half with a 14-10 lead.

Nothing fancy, but the lead was a lead. Hae-Seung and the receivers seemed to think so, and as did Keon, who was by far the team's leading receiver as a junior tight end for the Redmen. The offensive line was slightly suspect, and a couple of times the pocket broke way too early, but Hae-Seung's possessed strong footwork and had enough time to throw a quick pass, before paying back the next play. Keon, however, wasn't getting enough time to establish a clear separation, and felt that he needed to check with his quarterback after a pair of quick three-and-out both times.

'Give me a play. Any kind of combination with a crossing that could get me to a corner, and I'll make it.' Keon asked, as he panted a few times out of hurry.

'No, let's do a post because you could probably outpower them in the middle. Have them fight for the ball - we would win ninety-nine percent of the time.' Hae-Seung suggested the first option, which was to pass to the big man. Even with his command of the playbook, and his tendency to prefer spreading the passes across the board, everybody knew that Keon Atkinson-McNair was still their primary target, with every other touchdown pass expected to be scored by the Big Man in the Middle (BMM).

'They are all looking for that, precisely because they got picked off the same way. Do an X-cross between me and the Z-receiver, and use the Z-man as a decoy,' Keon tried his best to explain, which was one of the plays that they had practiced and used to a success.

'No, no, let's do a knife,' Hae-Seung answered. Their offensive coordinator, an old physical education teacher in Alexis Doddo, was a fairly lenient man who let more experienced quarterbacks of his handle the playcalling, and he usually trusted Hae-Seung, who lacked arm strength and did not rush the ball but had the accuracy and execution, to make a right play. 'Delay the slant, we get one more fullback and have him block an additional rusher in case they choose to rush four. I think Gormley could save enough time to at least hold off their strong-side edge.'

Hae-Seung then looked at the freshman wideout, Nancy Chiasaibi, who had the hands to make quick catches and had already recorded two receptions today. 'Can you get in motion?' He asked.

'If you are Mr. Automatic, I am Miss Automatic,' Nancy answered, before giving the rest of his teammates a thumbs up. Fellow receivers and Hae-Seung gave a smile, while Keon was slightly more worried about it.

Upon returning to the twenty-four yard after a short punt reception by senior cornerback Lucille Bohng-Yim, the offence went back to the field feeling a bit more confident about it. It was still a 14-10 lead, but the momentum was still on their favour with neither Westvale nor Erskine really converting their chances their previous drives respectively so. Now it was just their chance to convert.

'Topeka, Topeka,' Hae-Seung calmly answered out of huddle, 'Alert, 55 Mike, Fikayo slingshot, concentration lemonade sugar high. Ha-hut.'

When Hae-Seung would give a specific instruction, there was a condition that's attached to it - that is if the players were on the same chapter. It wasn't exactly about the willingness of his players to listen to him, especially with them knowing what's in the stake this year, but rather on whether they had the physical ability to execute it. As said earlier, the offensive line was on-and-off, and the receivers weren't so hot.

Stick to the plan, stick to the plan, thought Hae-Seung as he looked over the field looking for the options wide open. The receiver to the left, his main wideout, was guarded by two guys, and both backs got their hands on a full, six-man rush situation. Fortunately for Hae-Seung, it was too late for their rushers to step back and look for the pass, with the inside linebacker and a cornerback marking Nancy Chisaibi who headed to the left-side of the field.

With Chiasaibi doing her own thing, and the pocket doing just enough to hold on, this was a prime situation. Now, Keon was on one-on-one situation with the Westvale safety, and what people often forgot was that he's a slow-starter who did not have the fastest 40-yard dash results, but had glue hands and Hermes' winged sandals (they call them Talarias in Greek). Feeling that he had to stick to the plan now, and even more relief that they were able to play together for the final match, Hae-Seung threw a long pass that would sail low and quick. It would be caught in the hands of Keon, who looked to be heading for touchdown until he got complacent with his steps and got tackled at the three-yard line.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 18 - Tri-Provincials (Hibernation Period) - Arsene

Third Quarter

Since his retirement from the office, Arsene Pineau Kim found time to travel on more leisurely, casual pace. This was no different when he, as the Chair of Her Majesty's Privy Council, would have to make necessary visits to his former colleagues or friends, with whom he almost always had a business or two to address. This was of no exception when he had to visit a certain Dr. Heo, with whom they had enjoyed a rather cordial relation in the Christinian era, and this time it was his turn to pay him a visit, perhaps even more so when considering that his and Pierre V.E. Youngblood's visit to Dr. Heo's Joongyeong flat earlier was sudden in nature.

Inside the stadium's press box, where things looked a bit more like the Bird's Eye view, Arsene and the greater Heo family were watching the third quarter unfold. It was a mostly well-maintained, climate-controlled domain, though the slight downside were the presence of many family members, who were quite surprised to see the longtime former Prime Minister joining them for the audience. The Heos' main branch, whose sub-branches were divided per the brothers Dong-Soo and Dong-Chae, were half the NPD supporters and the other half PJLQ, and considered the Prime Minister to be a favourable figure.

Not that Arsene had minded - he had lived in the city's bustling down as an undergraduate at University of Kingston's Trinity College nonetheless - and he had watched multiple home games at the stadium when his beloved Joongyeong Voyageurs would come to visit every other year. It would still be another two decades to go before the Argonauts would really see their winning days - a half-decade of success with Dexter Ahn, who would set a couple of record breaking seasons en route to two titles before retiring for good. But in any case, he was happy to see that the family members were more or less occupied watching their star-boy having a good day - two touchdowns and 225 passing yards thrown on the first half would at least suggest that.

Now, neither Dr. Heo nor Arsene were particularly big people, and they still managed to find this an occasion to dress more loosely, but the level of nerves had more or less remained firm with them not being able to maintain a proper watch of the third quarter. It was fortunate that Erskine had already come out with a 27-13 lead, especially as their respective competitiveness (as any elderly family member would, dear reader) would prevent them from talking about the greater matter at concern.

'This kid's a good football player,' Arsene said, as he started to drink from his vial of scotch. 'He's not fast nor strong, but has good understanding of the game and has right fundamentals where needed.'

Dr. Heo agreed about the assessment. 'You would think so, too,' he simply nodded, as the Erskine would start at the Westvale 35 for their first defensive drive. 'He has a promising future, but likely not in football. He's rated higher in baseball - if you haven't kept up with high school baseball the past five years.'

'I am losing touch with time, ain't I?' asked Arsene. This part was true - at sixty years of age, Arsene was starting to get behind what it meant to be a grandfather, but with his first two children having kids late, and the last one, Raoul-Christophe whom you have met earlier, not even married yet, it was still some time away for him to really think about going back to that aspect of being a parent, or a grandparent. 'You know, there are some things with being a parent of athletic children that I have missed a lot in those days.' Of course, being the Mayor of Songak, and then the leader of opposition, would do that. 'Fortunately, Meghan (Arsene's wife -e.d.-) had done a lot of travels with the kids and helped scheduling clinics for the kids to go and whatnot.'

'I could relate to that, only because I did a lot of those since Maureen was a full-time barrister and a dance choreographer, and you know how the Mahan scene does that to anyone who dares to enter,' Dr. Heo agreed once again, remembering that much of his kids' growing days were split with one, and rarely both, parent attending to duties. 'Hae-Seung is lucky his mother did everything for him. Being a single parent ain't no easy on anybody.'

'But now, let's move on from that,' said Arsene, as he decided this would be the right time to turn around the topic. 'You have to tell me what the hell is going with the situation involving my son, and the file.'

'The Royal Archives files that were declassified?' asked Dong-Soo, as he suggested Arsene to stop the drinking. 'You know, we are still in a public property. Please behave like a married man you are, and have been for last twenty-five years.'

'Yes, precisely so,' Arsene answered. 'Raoul-Christophe suspects the Daemyeonggoong Palace wishes to maintain a hold of those files to provide a further diplomatic leverage in case they would have to deal with Cabo Azure, perhaps even more so since their Crown Princess has been out in the Quebecois society for the past year and the half.'

'That would be correct, or just an act of generosity as the woman known to have a kind heart to those who she wishes to be close,' Dr. Heo nodded, as he looked back at his friend. 'It is clear that the Queen favours her Diamond of the Last season over most of the prospective debutantes into the society, with sole exceptions being that of future Claire Lundrigan, or the Shelbourne sisters.' He then took a brief break, before resuming to speak. 'Whether I agree with her on this or not is not exactly up to me, but I am aware, mostly because the Portelo dynasty's just as much of our blood as half the dynastic lines who roam in the Joongyeongite society.'

'That being Henri VII's brother, His Royal Highness Alexandre.'

'Precisely so,' He then went back to what he was trying to explain. 'I have been loyal and more importantly self-preserving enough, not as a curious historian but as a head of the Royal Archives of Shingoryeo, to not read those declassified files. That said, Arsene my friend, I could at least tell from the rather complicated nature of the request, of which your son had gotten into trouble...that we are not in a position to deal with possible consequences just yet, even if the Queen wishes to. Perhaps the times will have to wait, with proper acclimation period needed.'

'Hmmm,' Arsene murmured, as the brief minute of silence had followed between them. Right as that had happened, they would hear a slight sigh as the Erskine Redmen had allowed a touchdown on a 35-yard pass. It was not a bad play from objective standpoint, but a couple of missed plays and a linebacker blowing his coverage was by no means an impressive act to follow up after a strong first quarter.

They would go back to skim the field, before resuming to speak. 'But do you think the Queen will be able to accept a no?' Arsene asked. The former Prime Minister, who had advised the Queen for most of her early years, knew the Queen was a reasonable woman with appropriate temper, but sometimes a bit of determination on her end would do miles in pushing for a specific agenda or proposal.

'I will have to give a try,' Dr. Heo answered. 'She still enjoys certain pomp and circumstance. Not the overtly displays her mother's known for out in the Capitol, she hates those, but the Queen is still an elegant woman, and a highly-calculative lady at that, so she would appreciate if I come up with a right compromise for her eyes to light up.'

'Call me sold, in that case,' Arsene answered, as the Redmen would enter into their first offensive drive of the second half.

---

Fourth Quarter/Fin

'Congratulations, dear Hae-Seung. I knew you would do it,' said Heo Dong-Chae, as the sixty-eight year old grandfather gave his son a light but firm congratulations with a quick hug. Mr, Heo was never the best when it comes to receiving and even more so giving proper physical embraces, and while he has given his two children and three grandchildren plenty as an adult, there still existed a semblance of awkwardness in which the former primary school principal behaved.

'Thank you, grandpa,' Hae-Seung smiled back at his grandfather, as he gave him another hug before looking to see where his mother was. Hae-Seung was glad his mother was right on the front row, with her staying in full motion the entire time the 39 year old was in the front row of the Erskine Redmen's stands. As a high school teacher she had a fairly routine life, but the workload that she would have in and out had meant that she was not always able to be there for her son.

'Mum!' He shouted, looking at her as she smiled back at him. It was apparent she was proud of Hae-Seung in what was likely his last match to be played on his football career. 'We made it! We made it! We are the Tri-Provincial Champions!'

And what a way to go out on top? Heo Hae-Seung and his friend, Keon Atkinson-McNair, may have had the game of their careers. In what would turn out to be a 48-21 win, they would register milestones. Hae-Seung would throw 34 out of 38 for 402 yards, and score 5 touchdowns (4 offensive, one defensive). He wasn't exactly the most impressive out there with arm strength, but the offensive line did more than enough and he kept his body aware and movements poised to avoid a sack and passed with accuracy where needed.

'Yo, Atkinson!' Hae-Seung would then shout back to his friend Keon, who was out celebrating in a huddle with his father Alton McNair, and his mother, Sonia Atkinson. Right next to them was great wideout Kieran Kweon-Atkinson, the now-retired wideout of the RFL and the Grim Reapers fame happily watching his nephew putting together a performance that had reminded him of his playing days. 'Come here!'

'No, you come here!' answered Keon, who himself was busy celebrating. Their families' huddle would have to join a bit later.

But the duo had done their best this game, and their friendship would hold firm. And three of the touchdowns would be to Keon, as well. Unlike Hae-Seung, whose work as quarterback would likely remain underrated due to the pre-historic existence of Guy Rimpel, Atkinson-McNair had his own names to list out as well. He had broken the OFSAA-4A class record for receiving yards this game, receiving for 279 yards and two touchdowns. Having had a couple of scares back in first quarter and then at the start of the third quarter, Erskine Redmen would go onto outrace the Westvale Secondary in a quite unusual manner, and won the first Tri-Provincial title in twenty-three years. Some high school finals would be remembered for quite unusual moments, and this was going to be one of them. After all, who would expect a future Grim Reapers' shortstop and a future All-time Tight End to just have the showcase they would need for the next stage of their careers? It's now done, and it's time to celebrate.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 19 - Jongmyo Jerye - Pierre

When the Royal Quebecois Olympic Committee Chair Pierre V.E. Youngblood emerged out of the Whangoo Park station and into the Joongyeong's Alexandre-III District, the streets were already starting to pack, with no shortage of guests and security, both domestic and international, present for the occasion. Wearing a black hat, and a slightly long coat reflecting Joongyeong temperature this late in the day, he looked around both ways, checking to see if he could see the same Dr. Heo, an old friend of his.

The problem, of course, was that Dr. Heo wasn't exactly the most noticeable of persons. He was by no means short, standing around five-feet eleven, and had enough flesh to his torso and limbs, but his facial expressions were not the most distinguishable out there, something that did not exactly help them in this situation. Not to mention the fact that the streets around the Jongmyo Shrine, dating back to no less than three centuries, were narrow and winding, which had made things quite inconvenient in their case right now, especially with how many elderly men and women there were in this sea of dark coats. This was something that frustrated Arsene, who had mostly spent his time in Joongyeong for the business-related reasons and otherwise spent it back home with his family in Kingston.

Besides, it wasn't exactly their plan to arrive at the Jongmyo Jerye to talk business. The Jongmyo Jerye, that being twice-annual ceremony held to pay tributes to the deceased monarchs of the Shingoryeoite state, was a ceremony that was both busy and solemn, and neither of them really had penchant to see people during those days. But then, there wasn't a lot of options available either, with Pierre mostly spending much of time getting ready for the 2062 Afanc Strait-Jolbonopolis Olympics out west, and Dr. Heo still very much involved at the Royal Archives of Shingoryeo (RAS), not to mention his secondary employers at the Universite St. Croix.

The matters they had to talk about, and those that would require Pierre's thoughts, would require bouncing off the heads of Pierre. Arsene, their friend and the former Prime Minister, was an experienced professional in terms of dialoguing politically, but he lacked push in the certain areas where they had needed his help. The one he, as well as others around him, would likely need discussions with Pierre was that of addressing complicated matters like those at the Montesierra Studios and Raoul-Christophe Jang-Nolan were going through. The delayed filming of Barbenheimer (movie) in the battlefields of Ruland was one, and so did the Foreign Office's opposition, which seemed to have had the hand of Prince Philippe V, the younger brother of Christine II. The relative proximity of Banijan monarchy to that of the Quebecois, one that's made possible to Philippe's marriage into the Katendes rather than the other way around, appeared in a block that would surface time and time again. Admittedly it was an understandable one - ties towards Rulandese Revolutionary Army general Erin Kang, as well as a certain Champions' League-winner-turned-Warlord Marco Hertel did not have the best ring available - but still, a problem. It would now weigh less so on the filming, which would eventually occur after a year of delays, but was facing production-related limitations that were all in all, a problem of own to tackle.

Then there was the matter of keeping the resources consolidated for the Praetorian. Being the leading left-wing newspaper of the country, there was a certain sentimental value for the H&R Group, consisting that of Ian Lautner, Sierra-Heos, Goldblooms, and the Heos proper, to secure ownership bid. For much of the past year the proposal was put to a halt under the Competition Office, who had asked to restructure and where appropriate sell some of the half-dozen sports teams owned, additional measures would have to be taken. Q-League side Perce Town and QBL's Montevicio Lakers were safe, while Montreal City too passed with additional stipulations. Then the Northandryun Rovers were sold back to a collective of a few dozen, well-to-do locals. So at least that's done now, even with conditions attached, but the level of difficulties had suggested Dr. Heo, Arsene and Pierre to discuss it separately and maybe address in future-time, also making it an option that they add additional sweetener into the pot of gold.

After about ten minutes walking around and all over the Whangoo Park area, trying to find his friend, Pierre had managed to notice Dr. Heo, who was wearing a fur coat without any hat on top of his head. In the six months that had passed between then and now, he had only aged further, almost to suggest there were challenges built up for them.

'Ah. How pleasant to see you, feels nothing like the start of everything again, isn't it?' said Pierre, reminding Dr. Heo of the start of the IBC-38, which was happening right around the corner in Katterimunk. Dr. Heo's daughter, Myeong-Yoon, was a basketball legend whose final moments of glory would be immortalised at the KD Gardens, when the Quebecois women would prevail with a thirty-point victory on the Olympic women's final. Six years had already passed since, but the memories still rang fresh. 'You know, who would have thought that those memories would continue into the first time? First time olympic champions, those fine women were, and now the defending world champions.'

'I've held no doubt on one, but not the other, Pierre,' Dr. Heo nodded, as they started to walk their way towards the Jongmyo Shrine, where their presence were to be expected. Of course, whether they were going to make it on time for the start, with everybody else surrounding them on the way, was going to be another story. 'I'm sure you know why I've called you to come for the ceremonies, didn't I?'

'I suppose I'm never late for that. And it's definitely not because of Horace Karugunda highlights,' amused Pierre, remembering that his friend always had a certain penchant for outstanding centre play. The Quebecois, over the years, have been gifted with iconic centres for both men and women, with the names like Riley Jeon-Keane, Kim Hong-Ja and Yim Se-Ryeong on women and Noah Pantin and Noh Seung-Hoon on men. Their latest prospect, Horace Karugunda, wasn't exactly a traditional centre of powerful, slow-ish centres focused on inside play, but with Austin Muhumuza at the centre was capable of forming twin towers on men's side, or to provide support to Taylor Anne Rowsell on mixed-gender play. 'Karugunda's every bit Quebecois, though his parents may be Kirungan. That part of discussion is already addressed and online warriors are just that, no more than minor voices.'

'Let's not talk bullshit here, Pierre. I'm sure you would have to help me providing clarity on a situation regarding two matters of concern. One of them actually involving an active sportsman, a pupil of mine. That, on the greater scope of things, may be relatively minor to the one that would concern Joongyeong society more, but I have reasons to talk to you about them.'

'Go on,' said Pierre, as they continued to walk their way. It was clear to Pierre who Dr. Heo was referring to, seeing as the Joongyeong Oval was just down the corner from where they had stood. 'We have until the evening, after which I shall head back to Jolbonopolis, but the ceremonies do not take eight hours, as you know.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

OOC: Quickly noting that there are three dillemmas that could emerge out of it, all because of the interlocking interests of those surrounding the ever-famous Heo family of Quebecois basketball and baseball legend.

One is that of multi-club ownership that would be challenged when the owners, under the joint H&N Group, would try to secure bid for the Songak Praetorian (not-Guardian, obviously). Second would be one of the members, that being Montesierra, facing roadblocks to initially shoot and later produce a certain Blockbuster by the name of Barbenheimer in Ruland, right in middle of the Great War of Farfadillis. Those two are fairly easy to manoeuvre, with the first one being re-organised by the Lautners selling multiple clubs in favour of a RFL franchise, and the Sierra-Heos and the Jis, who are distant cousins, self-introducing measures to limit interaction between Q-League clubs Perce Town and Montreal City.

Then the third would be additional manoeuvring Dr. Heo himself would have to do to ease the process for the first, which is now at the roadblocks for the production part. The filming has managed to get through on let's say undercover operations, but still the roadblocks exist for the reasons that Philippe, the younger brother of Christine II, is also a member of Banijan royalty through marriage. Dr. Heo, being in an unique and yet complicated situation, has to manoeuvre his way through this roadblock, and that of his own pupil, Jang Joon-Gweon (see the last two seasons before this, which Cass was able to read at various points incl. WBC-57). How will he sweeten the pot, and to what extent? Let's find out.

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 20 - Jongmyo Jerye - Dr. Heo

'You always have the penchant to bring me in the most inconvenient of occasions, don't you?' Pierre looked back at Dr. Heo, with their hands holding their hat to the very chest, as they watched the initial hour of the Jongmyo Jerye (traditional rites) on the initial, curtained off row of the Jongmyo Shrine's hallway. Pierre tried his best to indicate his endurance in surviving through the occasion, his eyes and shoulders full of tensions that he would not be feeling elsewhere. No, not even at the Olympic Council sessions. 'Unlike you, I do not always have the time to listen to this for hours.'

The Jongmyo Jerye itself was always an ordeal. The ceremonies themselves had three parts to it - the Purification, the Entertainment, and the Send-off of Ancestral Deities - and were rigidly observed with no less than a dozen steps in each component flipped or changed. The Main Courtyard of the Shrine itself, usually open with visitors able to walk across and over the pavement, were currently filled with no less than hundred court musicians and dancers. While Quebec and Shingoryeo had been open towards Commonwealth or other foreign nationals in most aspects of the society, which included that of the courts (this was a bit more complicated story), this part of the Shingoryeoite society was considered to be the most difficult for the people.

'If I were you, I would not be the one to complain,' Dr. Heo answered, more amused than angered in his tone of voice. 'Wasn't it the Jolbonopolis Organising Committee that had agreed to bring back Summer Vigil Fasting as an Olympic demonstration event?' This part was true - nobody exactly knew why, or rather how, the decision to bring back the Summer Vigil Fasting, the traditional twenty-day event that was first held in the Games of the III Olympiad in Columbia, Commerce Heights, was made.

Most had only gotten over it due to the remarkable sense of competence shown by Pierre, whose history as high-profile adminstrator on both wrestling and the Olympics circuit were renowned, and his deputy, Arianna Ceciliani, but in this day and age where increased safety and accessibility to the Olympic Games are preferred by many of the traditional powers, it was an odd choice. Even odder when considering the efforts taken by Pierre, Arianna and the past two Governments to arrange the return of Kytlerian sports teams, in particular the Olympic delegation, to international competition.

'Yes, but please think of everything else. There are other matters in hand that I have had to assist you and the Daemyeonggoong Palace in the recent years, and this you cannot deny how much of the hassles the ropes had to be taken,' said Pierre, reminding Dr. Heo of the latest saga involving that of Marco Hertel, when he and his privateering army, Marco's Slaves, had successfully invaded Puerto Farolero in an overnight operation. While most had condemned Hertel, a former Grim Reapers' legend, two-time Champions' League winner, and not to mention the Primary Owner of the PlayToy Media Group, for his warmongering actions, the public sentiment towards the Great War of Farfadillis had remained particularly pro-Rulandese in manners that left nobody winners - whether it be RQFA, The Bubonic Plague, or even the Government for inaction.

'The Palace had requested the RQOC and the Foreign Office additional measures be taken specifically regarding certain individuals. Even as explicit as reminder to Mr. Hertel that each his stay in the mainland will only last up to fifteen days, and under limited circumstances. He knows the risk and has agreed to it,' Pierre said.

'And in that I'm on my knees with gratitude,' came Dr. Heo's answer. Dr. Heo's words felt sharper, even more so with the slower tempo of his reply, but also because of how proximate they were with the distance to the Queen and the Members of the Royal Household, most of whom were in attendance holding the ceremony. While not one holding direct position to the Daemyeonggoong Palace himself, knew the power he held, both as the former professor and advisor to the Christine II when she was still a princess, a good friend of the late Jacques IX, and recent custodian of Henri 'The Decisive' VIII's legacies as a liberal thinker separate from his legacies. 'Now let me propose you what I have in mind for Jang Joon-Gweon.'

'I'm sure Jang's security files could be addressed,' Pierre nodded. To the background they could hear the piercing sound of the musicians, who had an outer group of ensembles and the senior, presiding officers on the inside circle. 'As Arsene or a certain Charteris (Thierry Charteris was the former head of the RQIS -e.d.-) may have mentioned this before, it is where him not having his father's name in the birth certificate, or him living most of his time in the Bel-Havre Island, may help.' He then swallowed his spit, before resuming to speak. 'That said...'

'That said?' Dr. Heo asked.

'It is out of my or Arsene's jurisdiction. The specific decision to keep the families of those involved in the 2038 Plot under specific conditions were signed by Thierry Saganash (former Prime Minister, the last long-ruling one from Jacques IX era), Hebert (Jeanne Hebert, Charteris's predecessor) and the late King. Only Saganash is still alive, and to appeal it, it is likely that Jang will have to personally appeal to the Queen herself.'

'This is preposterous, Pierre,' said Dr. Heo in amazement.

Pierre nodded. He himself knew how unfair this measure had been to Jang, and how this implicitly hit the nerves of great a many in the cricket community, whose headperson also happened to be one under such restrictions. 'It indeed is preposterous, and that's why I agree with you that we cannot let your student, who also happens to be the finest cricketer the country has at this point in time, to be held back by those security restrictions. What would that speak for His Royal Highness not being allowed to marry a woman of his choice, under the late King's will, or Jang being denied of such?'

'Prince Laurent, who is famously not here at this point, is still years away from his wishes and I'm sure you know why,' said Dr. Heo, before stopping short of additional reminders. Pierre definitely knew the reasons behind why - those in line of succession after Jacques IX's three children were that of Laurent's, and the squabbles between the two princes Jacques and Laurent were known well enough in the 2030s. What Pierre did not know, however, was the possibility of what may happen in decades long past, into the generations of Jang's children, but even those Dr. Heo himself did not delve further in fear of re-aggravating the consequences of what she had seen before. 'But Jang, I vouch for not as my student, but as close to being a guardian as I could be. And the Prince of Abitibi himself looks up to him, so let's say that whatever it takes to clear his name, could end up doing you or others bigger favour than whatever that we owe you.'

'Then what is there to worry over?' Pierre asked. The music continued to ring into the crowd. 'I am sure that if Jang, and a certain Ms. Moran, are able to appeal their case of love to each other to the Queen, then what is there to worry about?'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 21 - Athlone Gala - Myeong-Yoon

The Athlone Gala 2064: What To Look Forward To..

Anne-Marie Joo-Kerns

SONGAK, SONGAK FEDERAL PROVINCE - It is once again the time for the Athlone Gala, as the latest designers, icons and stars from the Shingoryeoite society, as well as those abroad, will be back in middle of the spotlight at the Athlone Museum in Songak.

The costume ball, which has been hosted by the museum known to be holding an authoritative position in Quebecois art, but more notably applied arts and design, is hosted by the Museum's Contemporary Arts department, home to over 18,000 artworks considered to be primarily of postwar period (1945 onwards). The ball's symbolism, while normally used to represent the ever-changing world of fashion, media and the interlinked worlds, have warped into something past it, even to the point of status, something that the creator of the very original Gala, Sir. Michel Yim-Gainsbourg, personally abhored and hoped to avoid in the 1950s. Annually the list of invitees for the ticket changes and refreshes, though a certain number of guests come for consecutive number of years, and a single ticket cost $60,000 NSD (20,000).

Usually held in the second thursday of May, ironically ensuring its start after the month's civil holiday in May Day, the Athlone Gala is traditionally marked for a start of the year's summer social season. This year's theme, aimed at the fiftieth anniversary of the Quebeco-Equestrian forces' victory in the Felixian Liberation War of 2010-12, will be centring around 'Turn of the Millennium', to reflect the excitement of the first two decades of the new millennium that saw the nation emerge out of the economic instabilities of 1970s, growing divide of the nation marked by the times of austerity and extremism in 1980s, the political turmoils of 1990s. The works of no less than two-dozen 2000s and 2010s designers, whose backgrounds and fashion genres varied in their living days, would come to influence the era that many would remember, to this day, as the 'Cool Shin-goryeo', perhaps to the point of contention over revisionism affected by a sense of nostalgia.

-----

The Sierra-Heo family's limousine ride from Charles M. Regimbault Airport to the Athlone Museum involved navigating through rolling hills of the western half of the island, whose brand of NIMBYism until twenty years ago had instituted a strict night-time curfew, and then through boroughs of high, neo-Georgian townhouses and apartment buildings built at the previous turn of the century. The inside of the Rykers-Rhyce Viper, whose cushions and interior ornaments had mostly blocked out the outside noise, remained unmoving, with neither Myeong-Yoon nor Rico able to feel the shakiness of the pavement underneath, as they handled the one-hour ride.

Myeong-Yoon watched the outside with relatively little thoughts about the streets they were walking past. Cobblestone alleyways, grand Imperial-times buildings, and the calming presence of the city's many squares contrasted with the intimacy of the private gardens that many of her friends and colleagues had resided in. It was a city that, no matter how dreary and depressing it had felt to the provincials (she was one too, keep in mind), did breathe healthy balance between history and contemporary, one that Myeong-Yoon found to be more vibrant than the city she had lived for past ecade of her life in Joongyeong.

Her mind, of course, was not about that, or even the Athlone Gala itself. Unlike Rico, her popstar-turned-film executive husband, she wasn't going to go there, and not even the slightest thought would let that happen. Everybody had known about the Athlone Gala curse, where many A-list couples of all colours and backgrounds would meet their demise by the end of Summer after attending the maytime Gala together. In some ways this was a superstition, one that maybe people should rely upon less, but the couple still had made it clear back in March that Myeong-Yoon would use this opportunity to visit her beloved cousin, a certain Montreal City owner named Ji Gyeong-Wan.

And for Myeong-Yoon this was fine. She knew this even more, considering how her late grandparents had considered her to be favourites. One closest to the family ethos, rather. Unlike her father or brother, Myeong-Yoon thought progressively and meticulously, to think for something palpable and long-lasting. The fact her and Rico, who she had met thanks to a referral from none other than her rival and best friend Hazel Hanson-Conavacio, had ended up in both football and film industries after their primary careers had ended...was of no surprise. Both the Montesierra productions and Perce Town, were those of sentimental values to her late grandfather, a labour activist-turned-film scholar, and she was proud about both their legacies.

But what it had mattered to her was that this was done out of her own accord. No matter how much of the family name had held in the Big Two metropolises, where her brother was arguably the Mr. Baseball of the nation, her sister in law head coach of the women's volleyball national team, and not to mention her father, Myeong-Yoon had a name of her own too.

Considered to be the greatest point guard Quebec and Shingoryeo had ever produced, one whose numbers were retired at four programs - #5 at Erskine Collegiate (high school), #9 at Queen's College (university), and both #5s at Hamilton SonicBoom and CSKA Quebec - her name held value. Everybody remembered the 185cm tall guard for her remarkable on-court vision, excellent passes, and fiery personalities who reined two generations of Grim Reapers - that of her own Silver Generation of basketball stars, and the 'Olympic Team' whose young core would lead into first of eventual back-to-back golds on home soil, but also the first of eventual back-to-back world titles.

Now, Myeong-Yooon may not have been the sentimental favourite of her father, cultural and literary historian Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, but that was more because her father held greater empathy towards Myeong-Shin, whose mother was killed in car crash his senior year of high school and whose wife, Naomi, nearly escaped paralysis before being diagnosed with scoliosis. But the father and the daughter were in many ways alike each other. Myeong-Yoon's ability to build, with a partner as dependable as Rico, a bourgeoning empire was something that her father had once hoped for in his son, but had given up.

At the same time, she also wondered if her father may not have been open about his support because she did not need one. As mentioned right above they were very much like one another, and that couldn't be any more true with how both of them had worked around their plans. Both Dr. Heos, that being both the senior and the junior, were rather quiet people when it comes to acting on their plans, but the difference had been that while her grandfather the senior famously hated administrative duties that would come with his authoritative positions, her father never ignored the requisites the connections needed to secure his positions as high as being a Privy Councilor. Or chair of Royal Archives of Shingoryeo. Or the Teacher of the Queen Christine II.

Myeong-Yoon, in that aspect, was very much like her father. She always planned ahead, tried her best to persuade those around them the importance of a task towards the common cause, and drove relentlessly towards it. But it was also the matter of coincidence, and watching those around them go through that had kept her relatively reserved, at least compared to her brother or friends Ian Lautner.

It was fine though, and she preferred to be in this capacity. She had watched her close friend, Sir. Asher Lundrigan, gradually decline in his state to the point of reclusiveness, almost to the point where she had pitied his wife, singer-songwriter Plongeon, and their daughter, even more so because Myeong-Yoon was a huge fan of hers. This reminder would surface once again in the recent years, as the rows of criticism and pressure would mount on Theo-Alexandre Pinson and his wife, Natalie Gregoris for years when they engaged in several years of divorce saga before their reconciliation, and both had alone served a good reminder for her and her friends on staying quieter. That sometimes, being the planner and the deviser behind the scenes were a better idea than to openly look for an active engagement in search of greater success.

As they had started reaching the heart of Songak's West End, with them about five blocks away from the Soochanggoong Palace, they would notice how the car started to barely move past the traffic. Most of the crowd on the promenades were walking past, tending to their own business, but they could both notice that their limousine, even with neither visible to the outside, were being photograph.

'Now we are really in the city, aren't we?' Myeong-Yoon said, tapping her husband on the top of his palm. She had rolled her brown hair, with the shades of red that had inherited from her mother, to the back and wore a suit. 'The Gala has clearly brought some Maytime vibes into the air, though we aren't the only ones exhibiting it.'

'Whether it be from Avidia or the East Coast, I would not know,' Rico said jokingly. The Krytenian-Quebecois man had lived in Joongyeong for half his life now, and to everybody's surprise, had ended up with two children. He was wearing the pastel-coloured suits almost comparable to that of a Paddington Bear. 'But they may as well celebrate it since anybody you would want to see are coming, provided they have the invitation or are married to one.'

'Ah, the married couple going to break off their marriages,' Myeong-Yoon drily answered. 'Anybody you'll be expecting to see once there? Or are you just going to stand around, wait and chat with Hong Soo-Deok, Jang-Nolan, and the rest of Barbenheimer crew this time around?'

'Lord knows,' Rico answered, him having read through some of the guests on the list he had received from their assistant earlier today. 'Like you'll recognise some of the names on your end - Karugunda and M'bah-Pinho brothers will be there. So will Arsene Kim and the Casavants,' he gave an accentuated note when referring to the former longtime Prime Minister's in-laws in disdainment.

'Perhaps the better bet than anything of your interest would be to clear the path for Barbenheimer, especially if you want it to be ready by next year.'

'Easier said than done, if you would ask me,' Rico answered. 'From my knowledge Mme. Maisie, or should I say, Mrs. Ji, will be the co-chair alongside Theo and Natalie...goodness me they need to pick better guests.'

'I feel you,' Myeong-Yoon nodded. 'It's never a good sign for a married couple to be there together, let alone present this Gala.' Stuck in the traffic, then would continue talking for another half-hour before Myeong-Yoon would first reach the Ji family's residence. In a measure of relief, she immediately left the limousine and entered the domains.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 22 - Rico

Alone by choice and in relief because of it, Rico Sierra casually let the night handle the proceedings. He was somewhat tired, the usual ordeals that would accompany the Athlone Gala not doing him a favour. A former pop star with his name famous across Anaia, he was used to the spotlights, but he too have aged in last 20 years and nowadays carried nowhere near the boyish boneheadness he had once made himself known for. Perhaps for his own best, the people would often say, as a minor reminder to his marriage to Heo 'Point God' Myeong-Yoon, whose and whose family breathed seriousness and planning to the very last inch.

As someone long accustomed to the ordeals, Rico went alone and straight to join the Barbenheimer cast in the carpet that, in every shape and blood, were international in makeup. The leading actor and actresses, Tumbran veteran Jim Brenson and rising Mytanar star Mevlida Kusturica, had been on the radar in international cinema for some time now, and they were complimented well with A-listers in Kim Gook-Seong and Corentin Agbapu, the unwavering persistence of Florent Boitano, and perennial heartthrob in Natalie Gregoris. Drawn by their trust towards Raoul-Christophe, who had drawn a hailstorm of photographs upon entering the front door of the Athlone Museum, Rico was relieved that they, somehow, had made it through the neverending saga that was the filming phase of Barbenheimer, and held high hopes on the next phases.

But while he found himself excited being back in the Athlone's carpet, but he was even happier to head off early, let the true stars of his beloved Montesierra, and headed straight into the exhibition phase of the Gala. This was inevitable, especially as with how the circuit there and also elsewhere in the Athlone Gala would draw attention, and perhaps it was for the best for Rico to find a refuge among the clothes, considering all that were surrounding the atmosphere.

'You know, the dresses of those era have no doubt been bolder, exuding confidence and patterns that would just boast,' said Arsene Pineau Kim, the former Prime Minister of fourteen years, as he was starting to show even more gray in his hair compared to the last time he had seen Sierra. 'Traditional iconographies like the flags and certain fabrics (reference to hemp, which would often be used for commoners' clothes up to early 19th century -e.d.-) do really show how bold and experimental those designers were, in the time where economic recovery and rejuvenated population worked together to create something bigger and better.'

Rico knew Arsene, who was about twenty years older than him, had a bit of that faux pas in his attempt to sound more Shingoryeoite, that usually meaning certain old-stock people whose ancestors were either indigenous or have arrived before the formation of current state with the Union of Three Crowns in 1734. Nevermind the fact that Arsene's parents, both deceased, were Acadianan professors at St. Croix. 'Yes, but too much fixation into one direction could be difficult, especially when considering that our country, even with strong decades of governance pre-dating that of my arrival in Quebec, is still an evolving one.' Rico answered in a roundabout way, emphasising our country as a matter that they were Quebecois, but not entirely Shingoryeoites in the fabrics of some hokey-pokeys. 'Half the people have worked with us for long, and have helped creating what would constitute to be the finest works we have produced.'

'Precisely so, and in that I think you could be proud of yourself, Mr. Sierra,' Arsene responded, gently stroking his own moustache. Montesierra Productions and Hong Soo-Deok, after all, were one of the beneficiaries of policies that were set to encourage further development of more emerging filmmakers and producers, with much of the Joongyeongite and East Coast scene being the target rather than commercially-viable Montywood of the west. 'I have heard no shortage of praises from your crew, and that of those who have worked around for this project.'

'It indeed took miles of effort, having to shift and shunt operations now and then, having to fight in the battlefields, work around the logistics with the army of Rulandese, and not to mention...unusual machinery that only those who have travelled to Shango-Fogoa could find,' Rico chuckled, trying not to give away too much. Some of the machineries used, such as over a thousand Rulandese men casted to reflect the locals of Los Pueblos, the Milchamian zombie machine used to generate a sea of soldiers battling in the trenches of Southern Rushmore, were perhaps not the most acceptable of options outside of the ever-famed Rulandywood. 'I could tell you all about it one day, maybe when you and me both enjoy retirement on the warm beaches of Cabo Azure, but I still have two children in school.'

Arsene Kim nodded, being reminded of how difficult it was to raise his three children while he was still an active politician. Political ascendancy and active life, both on and off, worked out fine for him and his wife Meghan Casavant, but did not always help him with his children. 'Totally understandable, as I were once in your shoes, Mr. Sierra,' nodded Arsene, as he looked back at Rico. There was an added layer of confidence there, a sense of knowing. 'I hear that both sons, Armando and Sergio, are difficult ones to handle.'

'As I once were,' Rico answered back, having heard too many times about the high-schooler's antic. 'They spend a lot of time with their grandpa and great-grandpa.'

'Ah, the good Doctor Heos, both the senior and the junior,' Arsene raised his eyebrows in affirmation. 'You may be delighted to know that it was the Junior, who had taken miles to persuade myself, Mr. Youngblood and of course, the Prime Minister, for the latest round of approvals.'

'I do, and am grateful for it, but still feel that those were the ones that we couldn't have done without.' Rico tried to answer back, before being stopped by Arsene.

'Mr. Sierra, let me be the first to tell you something that I wish I would have known before my mother had passed,' Arsene said, feeling slightly more sombre after being reminded of Agnes Pineau, who had passed recently. 'They may hate you now, but one day the kids too shall become fathers themselves, fall short themselves and will understand what it means to beg forgiveness from their children.' (quote comes from Episode 9, Season 2, of Netflix series The Crown -e.d.-).

Arsene then stopped for a second, to grab his breath, before resuming to speak. 'And let me be the first to tell you, and especially your children, not to step too closely into the Navy, or the Sun itself. The Crown has its own ways of working around that only Dr. Heo the Junior would know in your family. And while he is doing his part to ensure that the future is secure, make sure to keep a careful eye on everything, and for long, until the time's right. Then one day you will understand the Junior, and perhaps the Senior, as well, and thank him.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 23 - Blue Room

Despite being one of the closest advisors to the Queen Christine II of Quebec, as well as the last two Queen Mothers including the late Queen Mother Nathalie, Dr. Heo Dong-Soo almost never entered into the Daemyeongoong Palace's grounds. He had plenty of reasons to do so - the Daemyeongoong Palace had plenty of guards, he had to control his footsteps, and maintaining cordial relations with everybody was tedious enough of a task, even if he were in favourable terms with the living Queen Mother Elisabeth or the Queen. The four children of Christine II and Caspian of Cassadaigua - 17-year old Alexandre, 15-year old Adelaide, and 11 and 9-year old - all liked the 'old hound', but the first two were out east schooling at Avon-Gillespie School under their mother's plans, and latter two the Royal School in Concord Heights, as Alexandre had done so.

So it was a surprising occasion for all those concerned, when a Rykers-Rhyce Spectre arrived at the Alexandre I Gate (more conventionally known as the 'front gate') of the Daemyeongoong Palace just shy of nine in the morning. The palace guards came rightaway to open the doors, to which Dr. Heo had instructed both his passengers on the backseat, who were on their first visit to the Palace, to wait. To his credit, he had known the seriousness of the meeting he had requested in attendance of the Queen, wearing his frock coat with the sole Royal Order of Moogoongwha (ROM) medal attached to it, as he exited the first with assistance from the palace guard in his thirties who had happened to recognise him from before. He gave him a light nod to the guard before exiting first.

Then followed the figure of a man and a woman, who were by this point mid-twenties in age and appearance, as they followed their elderly aide, teacher and whatever else the title fitting of their relationship, into the Palace. Palace guards and staff members noticed that their visitor were relative commoners and more likely than not new to visiting the residential compartments of the palace, even if Jang's grey tailcoat with a Medal of Service attached to its breastplate and Hannah's black cocktail dress, had given it signs that very minimum of courtly uniform was still being met. They had not minded it much, with the pair's facial expressions suggesting more that they were here for matters that posed no security risk, and rather at the mercy of the monarch, and let them and their elderly mentor continue slowly past each door.

'Don't walk so fast, the Queen is not the one in urge need to see you,' said Dr. Heo to Hannah and Joon-Gweon in RP English. 'You two, however, are and we will be at her mercy, rather, but don't scrape the barrel. She would be disappointed to see a St. Croix graduate, ones almost twenty years junior to her, scraping the emotional barrel.'

The Daemyeongoong Palace's Blue Room was in the second floor, where the Queen usually held the weekly attendance with the current Prime Minister, Irene Kweon Binnington, and three Prime Ministers before him. While Christine II rarely stayed in the Palace, with her preferring to make visits rather than to accept attendances, the 42-year old monarch still tried her best to attend the Prime Ministerial attendance, schedule foreign dignitaries' visit to Joongyeong, and some of those who she held dear in various steps of life.

The front of the door saw two Royal Guards members, who were dressed in red uniforms with front buttons, standing. They were paired up with the other Royal Guards pair, who alternated their duties every hour as part of their respective shift. Dr. Heo, Jang and Hannah stopped in front, with Dr. Heo giving both guards a nod before waiting a minute. One of the guards then opened the door after receiving an affirmative response with the other pair inside the Blue Room, and the three of them entered into the room.

'Mr. Heo, accompanied by Ms. Moran and Mr. Jang, your majesty,' said the equerry, who had been present separate from the guards pair situated inside the room. 'Special attendance, as you had requested.'

When Jang and Hannah had arrived inside the Blue Room, they had noticed that the room, while featuring quite a few well-decorated furnitures here and there, with heavy chandeliers placed right above, was mostly empty of luxury and extravagance commonly known to the public of the Daemyeonggong Palace. While the Palace itself was full of elaborate, historic decorations and whatnot, it was clear to both of them that she had used them strictly for meetings and not exactly anything personal.

'Dear professor,' said Christine II in a well-combined, standardised Shingoryeoite Korean, as all three of them entered the room. Naturally, the court language of use was Korean, but some visitors preferred to use English or French, the other official languages of the country, due to them either possessing a very peculiar dialect of Shingoryeoite Korean. Now this had never deterred Dr. Heo, who spoke a northern Acadien dialect in court but otherwise held refined Joongyeongite French or RP English, from speaking in dialects in the court, but Jolbonopolis-native Hannah and Inteachanian Jang were more comfortable enough speaking in English to the Queen and her company.

When it comes to the company, there were two other members present in the Blue Room. None of them had required an introduction of their own, for the guests all knew who they were, but each of them called the pair's surname as a matter of acknowledgment. They were the Prime Minister Irene Kweon Binnington, current Privy Council chair and former Prime Minister Arsene Pineau Kim, and then HRH Laurent, the First Sea Lord and the younger, only surviving brother of late Jacques IX. Out of the three guests two had known either Jang or Hannah - Prince Laurent, who chaired the Quebecois Cricket Board, had advocated for Jang's clearances at various points in the past decade while Hannah, who had been a more known Soongdeok Society member in her St. Croix days, had just joined the Gwangmoo 11 as a junior staffer after earning her master's degree at the UPRI in ecology. Being there more as bosses with human faces, both Laurent and the Prime Minister were happy to attend and thus likely to approve whatever's to come their way.

As for Arsene Pineau Kim, who wore a blue suit with his ROM medal attached as well, he was an odd fit in the room. As a son of two Acadianan professors in Joongyeong who played squash at the 2027 Commonwealth Games, he didn't hold particular connection to the cricket, the Royal Quebecois Navy or environmentalism, and he definitely wasn't the type for country music either. This made Arsene him an odd fit in this room, even if Dr. Heo the Younger's been a personal friend of his over time. But being the chair of Privy Council, which had surprisingly large amount of power that even the Government had to stay alert, had meant that he was there to be the decider, the rejector or the resolver by being the requirement in which the proposal required his approval.

Dr. Heo gave the Queen a light neck bow. This was then followed by Jang and Hannah, who then responded with a neck bow and a curtsy. 'Your Majesty, I would like to present Mr. Jang Joon-Gweon and Ms. Hannah Moran, who I have requested for special attendance,' Dr. Heo said, before looking at the other three to say a one word. 'Gentlemen.'

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

OOC: Much of this scene is inspired, paraphrased, et cetera, from a speech by Simon Basset to Queen Charlotte in Bridgerton (S1:E5).

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 24 - The Plead

Tik, tik, tik. Jang Joon-Gweon felt the blood freeze before his eyes. The panel of four - older, powerful men and women who held their respective authority over him or his girlfriend, or were respectively the head of state - were sitting on their respective chairs. Each of them attempted their best to assess both the validity of their case with their deep, perhaps inquisitive gaze, and while none carried a particularly distasteful or disapproving demeanour on first sight, the lack of clear emotion displayed by any of them did not exactly make the situation better either.

Not the warmest of the gaze, even if the case were going to stand in our favour, thought he. Jang noticed how nervous Hannah Moran looked to the left of him, almost as if she were being subjected to a very frustrating ordeal even by her standard. He couldn't blame her for feeling that way. While Jang, being more accustomed to the pressure that had come as a cricket national teamer and the Naval officer, was able to handle it well enough, it was clear that the panel's presence alone were more than enough for plenty to wither from the pressure.

And this was before the actual start of the proceedings, where Jang and Hannah would have to plead their specific case.

'Lieutenant Junior Jang Joon-Gweon,' said Arsene, who started the proceeding as the Privy Council Chair. Jang looked forward to see the Prime Minister's face, which spoke more of assessment rather than blind approval. 'You and Ms. Hannah Moran have been brought, under the direct proposal of your mentor and custodian, Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, to plead your repective case of marriage. It is to our understanding that this is a request for a special dispensation for you to marry as an individual with former state protection status, under your father's affiliation to the failed attempt in treason of 2038, under the article no. 21 of the Individuals under State Protection Act of 1963.'

Joon-Gweon attempted his best to keep himself in control as he gave a light nod before starting to speak. 'It is true, right honourable,' said Joon-Gweon in a voice added with slight nervousness attached to it. 'The request is placed under the advice of me and my partner's respective mentor and advisor, as he is to your honourable and her majesty the Queen, in that the case ought to be explained and appealed under the Crown, the Prime Minister and the Privy Councilor.'

A small round of nods and murmur followed, as they confirmed the receipt of the very situation. Prince Laurent, Jang's senior who himself had very issues with his longtime partner of 30 years, was particularly in approval of the situation, while the Prime Minister continued to survey the two with slight uncertainty. Irene Kweon Binnington's relatively republican tendencies, combined with the fact Arsene Kim was her predecessor twice removed as Prime Minister, made the process uneasy even if her opinions about a junior staffer had been anything but positive.

Then they heard as the sound ended quickly, as the Queen opened her mouth and spoke with a low, alto voice. 'Thank you. You may now plead your case,' she said. It was clear enough to both Jang and Hannah that while Christine II very much bore an aura, calm and all-mediating one fitting of the role she held as head of state, the regent also held a specific, personal edge to it which, in a close environment like this, could tip the scale. They had heard plenty about the Queen's time at St. Croix too, from Dr. Heo no less, and knew that they had to appeal separately. 'I believe that there is a viable case if it involves two members of the Soongdeok Society, sponsored by dear Professor. Is it not?'

'Precisely so, but I am neither member's parent,' said Dr. Heo in a lighter voice. 'The boy's parents are long dead, and the girl's parents, while friends of mine due to fortunate associations, something that my dear Arsene would be aware of..'

'Yes, but I believe that we are not here to talk about how lovely people Bronco and Addie are, no matter how high of regard we hold on our respective political front,' Arsene answered, the good-natured Privy Council chair trying his best to keep the discussion serious and in motion. 'They are here to discuss the validity of their relationship, and the proposal.'

Hannah came forward, the staffer doing her part trying to keep the appeal calm and in control. 'Your majesty, I assure you nothing out of fashion or style, those that would risk our respective careers, but more importantly lives, were committed and that no dubious intention were put into our minds,' Hannah opened the process. 'It is only that we love each other so much, and that the decision was-'

'Thank you,' said the Queen, feeling unfazed by the initial words said by Hannah. 'But be advised we don't have much time for pomp and circumstance.'

'And I know that while this life could be sworn together with that of a well-bred, gilded man of appropriate socioeconomic class, I simply cannot deny the longstanding affection and friendship held between me and Lieutenant Junior Jang,' she continued. 'As you can see, your majesty, it is a love at first sight that had predated our first sight on the St. Croix grounds-'

Jang interrupted, realising that Hannah was close to spiling the details of how they had actually met at the famous art gallery in Perce, six months prior to their official accounts of meeting for the first time. 'It was the first sight, your majesty, of the lights and candles of the Soongdeok Society's early-autumn dinner, that had burned into the wildfire,' Joon-Gweon said in a hurry, before looking at Hannah. He turned to look at Hannah, whose surprised facial expression matched perfectly with her green eyes, before resuming to speak as he resumed looking back at the Queen and the panel.

'For years there stood certainty and confidence that is rarely found among all, that has fueled it. At least it did on my part, really, even if the difference in our respective status, the worlds we were considering for our future, and everything else, may have been different,' he then resumed speaking. 'But in finding adversity through these challenges and questionings, we found ourselves great solace through understanding one another, pursuing likewise interests, and altogether being able to build the worlds both intricate, and yet separate, from our respective lives in 11 Gwangmoo, or Miramare (base of the Royal Quebecois Navy Aviator Corps's flight school, -e.d.-).'

Jang and Hannah noticed a light smile coming from their respective superiors, in particular the Sea Lord himself. The elderly man, who was now nearing seventy in age, seemed to bear a sense of understanding, perhaps a resemblance to his younger self, in which he had to face with his older brother, the late Jacques IX. 'As you can see, our tales have been known in Joongyeong to be worth light gossip at times, but it was anything but frivolous in nature where our conversations are always easy, our minds locked and most importantly, our faith towards one another unwavering. Love, but more importantly friendships like this, hold true weight and value, in that they can carry us forever even in the times of uncertainities where we might be away from one another over months considered unholy to those engaging in normal matrimony.'

The room stood silent, as Christine II turned around to look at her uncle. By this point Prince Laurent was in a delightful state, one that the Queen did not exactly want to disrupt, but did find it a necessity to ask. 'Admiral, do you agree with Lieutenant junior Jang's assessment of and his conduct as both the Tomcat pilot and the national team cricketer, per the reports from Team Quebec selection board and that of the Royal Quebecois Naval Aviator Corps?'

'Six stars out of five, your majesty,' chuckled Prince Laurent to the Prime Minister and Dr. Heo's annoyance, and Hannah's continued nerves. 'Lieutenant Junior Jang is a splendid asset to both the navy and the country, one whose accolades are rare even among the finest of junior naval aviator ranks. Your father and uncle, bless both their souls, would have found him a comparable rival had he been a Tomcat pilot during their times, and there is no cricketer more capable of playing in any situation as Mr. Jang would in this country.'

'Thank you, Admiral,' Christine II then nodded, before giving a look back at Hannah Moran. 'As for Miss Moran, I believe the feelings go mutual, as in the amity you two value, beyond that of midnight passions which we often so confuse with actual love.'

'That is true, your majesty,' Hannah answered with quick confirmation. 'Growing up, I have never been the one to first initiate a conversation unless necessary, and have learned to maintain guard on whenever it is in need. But with Lieutenant Jang, every one of those barriers were overcome, as each word we would speak to one another would bring out our strengths and weaknesses, to the point where we are capable of bringing our true themselves. Almost as if there is a soul-to-soul meeting.'

She then spoke further, in hopes that she would be to deliver a final plea. 'And it is with this plea, six years and many ordeals since our first meeting, that I would like to ask permission for Lieutenant Jang to be my husband.' She said.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

The Social Seasons of Shin-goryeo

Part 25 - The Afterglow

Around a month or two after Jang Joon-Gweon and Hannah Moran's successful meeting at the Daemyeonggoong Palace, Dr. Heo and his daughter, Myeong-Yoon, were having a quiet lunch at a bistro on the quaint, Abitibi town of Adelphi, Abitibi-Agawa. While both the father, a longtime teacher and advisor to the Queen, and the father, the commonly-nicknamed 'Point God' who has since transitioned successfully into sports ownership and management, were known figures in the public, they were barely recognised by the locals or fellow visitors mostly on the grounds of the Adelphite Festival, where all colours of high-gliding individuals would be brought out with fluff.

With both dressed in semi-formal attire with the father wearing a grey suit jacket with a simple brown tie, and daughter, whose long, flowing brown-blonde hair were accompanied by a blue dress, their clothes did not exactly match. They looked mostly like that of friends with noticeable age gap, or just...father and daughter. It was apparent that Myeong-Yoon resembled more of late Maureen Turner, the late wife of Dr. Heo passed into eternity around twenty-five years ago, than Dr. Heo, but their mannerisms were similar enough for the strangers to figure it out after a minute or two. Now, this was something that had become more evident, even as they slowly drifted apart over time with Dr. Heo continued to be occupied in engagements into his seventies, and Myeong-Yoon having her own life and family to raise.

'Thank you, how much would it take for the food to get ready?' said Myeong-Yoon, as they let the middle-aged waiter take the menu after they had ordered. 'No hurry, just wanted to know.'

'Around fifteen minutes for yours, miss, and just a bit longer for your order, monsieur,' answered the waiter, as he made sure to first look at Myeong-Yoon, before turning to look at her father, who made sure to give a gracious smile back at him. He then left to the table right behind them, where a family of four had been eating at the time and were asking to refill their soda and wine, leaving the two to go back to their conversation.

'What exactly happened between you and the Queen, father?' Myeong-Yoon asked, as she tried her best to get her father, who seemed more relaxed than he had been in past year or so, to tell her the important details regarding the sudden clearance of Barbenheimer the movie's rights to be released at home. The sudden clearance,'It must have taken a great mile of effort to persuade everybody, whether it be the Prime Minister or the Foreign Office, that all the efforts with Barbenheimer would not be left a waste.'

'What effort?' Dr. Heo pretended to know as little as possible, as he looked back at Myeong-Yoon, whose cup of coffee was still showing a light trail of steam on top of it. 'There was nothing hard that I had to do, though I will admit, Myeong-Yoon, that it's not the persuasion part that is hard, but rather the planning and the lead-up to it.'

'I suppose you are true, but what promises did you even make to the Queen?' Myeong-Yoon asked, as she tried her best to figure out what's the latest of promises Dr. Heo had made to the Queen. 'You know just as well as I do on why there were such major obstacles, especially with Prince Philippe technically a part of Banijan court, and how half the financiers seemed to quarrel with the Queen Mother of all persons as well.'

From time to time, she would hear from her father or those she had known, whether they be her cousin Ji Gyeong-Wan or others on the other side of Joongyeong high society, about the occasional tasks the Queen would request from her teacher. While they had mostly involved the CIH/RAS records that the Queen had wanted to enquire, there would be other times where more deeper-level conversations be held, whether it be something spiritual (outside of Myeong-Yoon's zone), political (crown's above the politics, but opinions do exist) or courtly matters, and the quiet slips her father would give were solid teasers for the daughter.

Of course, Dr. Heo wasn't exactly going to answer it rightaway. There were some strings he had to pull, sure, but due to their magical and prophetical nature, he's not exactly in a position to tell either of his children about them. 'There were nothing out of ordinary when I did make a visit to the Queen for special dispensary to Joon-Gweon and Hannah's marriage,' Dr. Heo answered, as he tried his best to remain calm.

Slowly and gradually there were more guests coming into the bistro, and with the day being sunny, it was expected the outdoor patio to start filling up. 'At least the procedure wasn't so extra-ordinary. Even in occasions where she is the one to make decision with the Privy Council, the Navy and the Government, the Queen would still want both the attention and right words being said by those who come forward to her.' He continued, as he added with great satisfaction to their appeal of their love's durability, which did help turn around the state.

'Both of them had managed to appeal strong enough on the grounds of an enduring friendship as the strongest form of love. I think it was a right choice, especially since she wanted the answer that reflects what she would consider to be an ideal relationship - that being her marriage to Caspian, the Duke of Halifax.' He then coughed, before adding a final remark. 'Afterwards a clearance was given.'

Myeong-Yoon knew her father was going around with the topic. 'Sure, but what really happened behind the scenes with the Prime Minister and Prince Laurent?' Myeong-Yoon asked as she lowered her voice, upon noticing that had she maintained her usual level of volume, somebody else might overhear it. 'Rico said that Arsene Kim told him to thank you, so there's got to be something between you and everybody else in that room, isn't it?'

'Perhaps,' Dr. Heo briefly lifted his glasses to suggest acknowledgment, or perhaps a non-denial, before putting it back on the original spot. 'You see, dear Myeong-Yoon, let's just say that sometimes, when life requires you to cooperate to its plans, especially those that involve the distant future for you and your beloved ones, you got to take it.'

Myeong-Yoon wanted to know a bit more. 'Okay, but does this involve me and my husband, or Myeong-Shin and Naomi?' Myeong-Yoon decided to give a sharper line of enquiry. 'Or does this include Ji (Gyeong-Wan) and his bride? You know, you were never really fond of Maisie, especially because the Dreyfus-Millikens' ties towards Christian fundamentalists within the Moogoongwha. We clearly remember how you were so reluctant to accept them.'

This part caught Dr. Heo by the sideline. It was indeed true that Dr. Heo the younger, while dearly loving his nephew Ji Gyeong-Wan, who was very much an older brother to his children five and seven years younger, had never really approved of his marriage to Maisie Dreyfus-Milliken.

It wasn't that they were a good match - it was the oil tycoon Milliken family heiress, who he had met while working for the RQOC and the National Racing Authority (NRA) post-retirement, who went after him openly to start with - and everybody around them seemed to like them. But there were other factors at hand, from religious differences - the Jis were Taoists and Buddhists, while the Millikens were evangelicals - to the Millikens' political stance, which neither the elder nor younger Dr. Heo had held positive opinions about the Dreyfus-Milliken family, that had originally made him reluctant to approve the Jeongju Javelins and Montreal City owner.

'That part didn't bother me in the end, I could tell you that,' Dr. Heo admitted that he had let go of those worried. 'His loyalty is proven by the fact that he's your and Myeong-Shin's older brother, and the fact that I've been there every step of his way from the day he was born.'

'What about Maisie?' Myeong-Yoon asked. 'Do you really think that she's a good fit as my sister-in-law? I swear to god anytime she goes to a public function for the Javelins or MonCity, she keeps posting awfully-timed posts or just says things I'd not expect from a well-raised lady.'

'You know that's not why I had given my approval, Myeong-Yoon,' Dr. Heo rebutted. 'I had only done so in the end because she was the one who really loved your brother Gyeong-Wan. And if the Dreyfus-Millikens really want to save themselves, they will listen to him, who they already regard as a darling to their family. He's their prom king, the same way Goldblooms thought of Myeong-Shin.'

'Okay, but what is it that involves you trying to pull every step of the way that involves all of us? All the way to the point to do a fucking show in front of the Queen, the Prime Minister and bloody, fucking Prince Laurent? What is this deal even?' Myeong-Yoon asked in expaseration.

Now, if the prophetical nature of what he had known, and had communicated forth to Christine II, were not exactly what his children would understand, his involvement with the list of those to purge for the inevitable moment, a failed coup d'etat that he had foreseen, he was not in a position to give even a proper hint about it.

'Listen, I cannot disclose the details, presumably for the political and security-based reasons that would get us in trouble during Adelphi festival season of all times, but it's a project that involves many lives of now, tracking down many more of those in past, and will involve the lives of too many people that it may sound sinister. But really, it would be for the best of us all.' He said.

Myeong-Yoon was not fazed about her father's go-around answer. 'You know this makes you sound like a villain who happens to be my father, right?' she raised.

'Yes, but at least Montesierra's free from the Queen Mother's nose or Busukuma's intervention over Barbenheimer,' he said, before the waiter arrived with their meals.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

Here We Go. The Start of it all.

The Beginning of the End.

A death that will begin many lives to come.

A love that will begin the tragedies to come.

---

Ahead By A Century

PART 1 - The Watchmaker

Dear reader, it was the Year 2062 when we would pick up where we had left off.

Claire Lundrigan was still doing her best to acclimate herself into what would become the start of her sophomore year of high school.

Everything she had taken for granted growing up could be quantified now in colourised films inside her head instead of running on continuous livestreams. Every zone of comfort, what Claire would usually associate with the quiet, gravely beaches of Battersea Woods where a few dozen residents could readily swim into the waters, unimpeded, were starting to become commodified into the space inside her head.

Her hometown of Battersea Woods was described by her under one world - Homely. Located approximately half an hour to 45 minutes southwest of Twin Cities by road, approximately halfway to the pastoral country road that would eventually lead to a surfer's paradise bordering Semarland in Rimini Beach, this Acadien town had a quaint, old-world charm attached to it by the virtues of heathlands, cliffs and rolling hills all coexisting, as well as people who did not exactly reflect the characteristics of what people would describe as a lovely place to live. In some essence, either the most suitable or unsuitable for the next twenty years of tragedies to begin upon two families, perhaps even three, and their loved ones.

Her home of the Silverhills was a rather spacious estate, but one where many of the facilities still needed reworkings from the faulty pipes, dust on some of the rooms, and not to mention issues clearing shrubs on the outerskirts of the property. For those knowing the inhabitants of the Silverhills, as well as the nearby family estate Coxwell Park, this would surprise nobody, for this was just another example of traits that locals would remember the De Ramaut/Lauzons of her mother's side than the Lundrigans who have traditionally come from Navy, Foreign Service or the athletics, all of which would require a better sense of maintenance. Not that Claire had minded much, however - while the house itself was a small, three-room house of the Shingoryeoite Gothic period, Claire had spent much of the time on the cottage hut by the sea as her mother would do when growing up in the bustling, multi-generational Coxwell Park. She would normally bring her mother, a famous singer-songwriter Eileen better known as Plongeon of twenty-fourties fame, and just spend hours painting and playing music.

But when Claire was outside of the property, she would spend her time with her father, a legendary Korean-language writer by the name of Sir. Asher. It was arranged to be that way, dating to well back when her mother had recovered from a near-fatal illness nine years ago, and had never changed. Claire Lundrigan still remembered when it had happened - her mother was ill shortly after giving birth to her sister Maude, the three Lundrigan children would be sent to their grandparents' place at Coxwell Park from their apartment, and their father was left in their Songak apartment under a state of grimace. There the children would stay with their grandparents in what were a few months felt like several years at the time, before one evening, they would be reunited with their parents.

It was clear to both seven-year old Claire by then that they were not going to return to Songak for a long time, at least not to live. Her mother's career by that point had been more than consistent with no trouble of securing number one albums or international theatre tours, and by that point her father's career had more or less settled too, even more so with the start of the seven-book, neo-modernist series In Search of Lost Memories (A La Recherche du...). But even as a young child, who perhaps had gone through way too many troubling things then, there was a resolute sense of staying in the Shingoryeoite Old Country that she had not noticed her father before. In the nine years that would pass between then and now, he had stayed so, minimising travel and appearances perhaps to reduce the displays of his slowly-declining mobility and health, and thus maintaining the distance from the Ice Queen of Joongyeong.

And now, it was time for Claire Lundrigan to start the next chapter of the story. One that would last for the next thirty years to come.

'Do you think the new school will go alright?' Claire Lundrigan asked her father, Sir. Asher, as she maintained firm grip of the wheel on the driver's seat of the car. 'I mean, it can't get worse anymore than what you and mum would expect.' The incoming move to Avon-Gillespie School was something that had been all over Claire Lundrigan's mind for last three months, from the moment she had received the unexpected Letter of Admission to the Musical Scholarship Offer that had come with a list of conditions and tasks to prepare herself for the move.

The transfer of schools, one from her old Longbourne Community School just fifteen minutes walk away to one of prestige such as Avon-Gillespie, was a rather unexpected one by the family, and Sir. Asher himself did not exactly have a way to explain it to her daughter. Sir. Asher and his brother, former footballer Frank (who now resided in Sharm-El-Sheikh, Adab), were publicly-educated at Erskine Collegiate, and while the midtown Kingston high school was still one of the most known high schools in all of Quebec, it did not hold the exclusive, pommie profile that was usually reserved to rural preparatories or Joongyeongite lycees.

'It will all be alright,' Sir. Asher answered as he kept the sound of local radio stations low on the car stereo. It was probably the best idea to keep the country-folk musical rotation going, at least for the sake of riding on the rural roads of inland Acadie where they were bound to travel for five hours. 'Your grandparents went to a grammar, I did not but why would you or Franck want to pay thirty-keye (30k) pound a year to attend Upper Mahan College? You know your grandfather too well.'

Claire had noticed that there were enough things on the air that Sir. Asher was not the most comfortable talking about, especially in terms of her new school. On surface, the Avon-Gillespie was very much the school that had fit Claire's interests and agenda. Located on the Avon County, a county of rolling hills approximately located around mid-point of Oakwood, Dongnae-Halifax County and the Prince Laurent Islands, it was a quaint independent school. Built around the emphasis of outdoor activities and extracurricular activities 130 years ago by Dr. Lawrence 'Larry' Strauss, it consistently held strong appeal for those at home and abroad, even if they were still trying to improve upon bringing pupils from more diverse background.

This had also meant that for AGS, there was relatively little to no trouble putting together charity campaigns for those in need very year, that they would have a strong music program with a certain Delaclav film composer having been faculty member for the past eleven years, and their homecomings weren't soo doozy after the graduation of a recent RFL first overall pick Benoit Youngblood six years ago. In that sense Claire knew that was bound to happen, especially as she was starting to feel levelled out of what pre-existing tutors as a horn player even with commute to Saint John Conservatory, and had reluctantly agreed to transfer.

Still, Claire still could not help but to notice how daunting of a step moving away from her home, where she had spent close to the decade and majority of her sixteen years of life, would feel. For the first time she would really be far away from home, and with relatively little she could do with her family, and the prospects themselves felt daunting. To move from a smaller school, where a class of sixty would all know her, to a bigger, possibly meaner one where if by virtue of chance, she may have to suffer living nightmares would be dorming until the June. Unlike in others, where the environment would be much more controlled, the AGS held a bit more laissez-faire approach to the houses, and in that aspect she also worried (though discreetly) about being singled out.

It was not helped by the shadows of her father's declining health. His Charcot-Marie-Tooth condition was not known much to those outside of both her parents' families, over time, and those in the public had refused to speculate much. But Claire, being the eldest of three children in a large family, was starting to notice how Sir. Asher, whose strengths once would have allowed him to play catcher up to a pro-draftable level in college, felt each his steps heavier and less frequent. And this did hurt her a lot, having to see that the time's starting to slip past him without her siblings' awareness, but to silent acknowledgment of her parents.

Two hours would pass before Claire would open her mouth again. 'But will you be...are you going to be alright?' Claire asked, trying her best not to let her emotions get to her. It was close to eleven in the morning. In some ways Claire had felt that she had already known the answer, especially considering how little they had talked halfway into the car ride, but was unable to ask further. Heck, Claire wasn't sure if she wanted to know. Her father, for all the emotions he's shown and has been capable of doing so, seemed more than settled that she was bound to go, and hopefully further onwards. To greater things, perhaps to peril, perhaps to joy.

'I just want you to be safe, is all,' It was clear that Sir. Asher was not being honest to her daughter about something regarding the new school, whether he wanted to acknowledge it or not. To Claire, there was no place safer than that of Battersea Woods, where she could find herself purposefully lost for hours, while still making her way back after a minute or two of walks along the paths. 'But you, dear daughter, are bound for great things, and this is the best mum and I can provide for you.'

'Yes, but...' But Claire could not continue speaking. She knew what her father, who would normally be an emotional, understanding being, felt cold or rather ambivalent towards it all. It was almost as if he had known this day would come, and maybe he did - but all of this had frustrated her.

Not being able to continue speaking, they would continue driving for two more hours until they would reach the leafy campus of Avon-Gillespie School.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

Ahead By A Century

PART 2 - Chocolate

The car came out of the long, winding road, and into Avon County.

There the soil lay dark under the foggy sky, where the boundaries between the sky and the sand existed in a paper margin.

Then the car pulled up at the first plain it would see, heading directly into the Avon-Gillespie School campus.

Claire Lundrigan had never taken this road when travelling east to the Dongnae-Halifax County at the eastern end of the Acadie province, or to the Unama'kik Island of the province's northeastern tip, and when her and her father arrived at the school after what had felt like endless detours and zig-zags long the rolling hills of inland Acadie past the southwest, it would be around two in the afternoon. By then, the sun was already starting to set slowly to the west, even as they peeked past the light cloudy shrouds, and the trees, and the meadows had surrounded their sights as she kissed her father goodbye and walked into the largely-empty campus.

To young Claire, the Avon County's sceneries were that of a dream, even though she was more than aware in the dangers of the dreams that looked too sweet to be real. The dormitories, for most part, were smaller, two-floored houses that would be divided into multiple rooms and they were separated from each other by the rows of maple trees on the outside and the pine trees on the inside. It was an odd mix that presumably dated back to the school's founders in the 1930s, so she heard, but not something that had really come into her mind to start with.

Her bedroom, which she had it to herself perhaps due to being a transfer student this late into the year (obviously, there were other reasons behind that), was anything but depressing rooms of many secondary and collegiate dormitories. Instead it was a reasonably pleasant one with pre-fitted soft furnishings, Norrsk cupboards and wardrobes previously cleaned and washed, and high ceilings that made her feel like she was staring past the roof and then into the stars.

On the first two nights at the campus, with most of the upperclassmen students still having not arrived yet, Claire would lie on the bed reading for hours by the sight, while the outside would turn into gold from foggy, silvery mist of the morning, then back into gold and then into the pastel dark-blue with stars sewn into the fabric they would call as the sky. While the outside sky would go under cycles, and Claire away at times to engage into Opening Days (that's what they would call the orientation day for both the year sevens and the transfers, apparently) where a few faculty members, coaches and alumni would welcome them in a shortened orientation, the rest of the room as the unpacking would continue with plastic drawers right next to her desk and posters, those ranging from that of Saint John Green Sox to that of her mother's younger self, pasted to the wall to blow more life into it.

For most part, Claire had kept the thoughts of studies, which she held relatively secondary to that of her French Horn and the Piano, aside, but eventually this too would catch up on the third day when she had her appointment with her academic advisor, a certain Moderns department chair named Mr. Allard, on two in the afternoon. Dr. Allard, a former university lecturer in comparative literature and history at Yoseo University many decades back, was a man in his sixties with decently-trimmed moustache, graying hair and a sharp glare that reflected his analytical lens. Of course, he knew more than the words in the text and having been assigned as academic advisor to not only Claire, but good number of other students in this dramatis personae, he knew his best to enquire appropriately.

'Ms. Lundrigan, welcome to Avon-Gillespie,' said Dr. Allard, 'It is my pleasure to have you here, a rare transfer among recent upperclassmen cohorts, and I'm sure that if anything is to be derived from your mother and father's reputation, that we will be having another brilliant student here, who knows the value of life and death it could bring.'

'No, it is my pleasure. This is the first time your cohort's having a new student not of the original year-seven cohort, which should suggest the promise you, my dear, bring to the school.' Then Dr. Allard drew a breath, before opening her mouth again. 'I see from your original course selection form that you had previously requested to study A-Levels in English, Korean, Music and History of Art, is that correct? With possibility of adding History if there is a spot in the current cohort.'

'Yes, sir,' Claire nodded, confirming her original choice made when she had sent the course selection form.

'That will not be a problem on our end, though please do note that there will be no preferential treatment just because your father's the finest Korean writer of our time, and we all know of your mother.' Allard looked back at Claire, who briefly flinched at the note. 'And if you are having issues with any of your other courses, that being other than music which is your scholarship subject anyway, please let me know as soon as possible so that we could facilitate a possible switch before next year. The switch may be easier now than it would be next year.'

'Thank you, sir,' Claire answered, before speaking again. 'Is there anything I should keep in mind when it comes to my current subjects?'

'I think you should be fine, for most part, Ms. Lundrigan,' Allard responded with added sense of assurance on his end. 'You will be entering my English module, effective Monday at eleven, where we will be reading Akakhov's The Talent for fun, while Korean and History of Art will be held twice weekly by Mr. Jeon and Ms. Bhatt, both of whom I have trusted in my three decades of service at this school. As for music, that is not my domain, but do be aware of the principal tuba - as you would know yourself, the lower brass are usually the troublemakers and this school is no exception.'

Claire gave a light chuckle, aware of what that had meant. Being a horn player, she of course knew what Dr. Allard, who had pretended way too hard not to know anything of it, was intending. 'I promise I will,' she smiled back, before standing up. 'Thank you.'

---

Later that afternoon, after she had returned from her dormitory, Claire was back to being alone in her dormitory room. She was in a state of happiness, perhaps having put her original fears of leaving behind her father and the family behind, and the daunted reminders of her academic expectations, which she had not exactly kept a close eye upon, were not enough to keep her from strolling along the grassy fields and the hills, drunk and dazzled with beauty, before reaching the other side of the ravine in her dormitory hall.

When she had returned to her room at the Robinson House, however, Claire had immediately noticed something odd within the house. Instead of feeling the usual cool air that roamed into the halls and the rooms of the dormitory hall, the air felt hotter than usual, almost as if there were additional, golden particles floating into the air. One of those days huh, thought Claire, as she looked around to see dozens of tiny golden particles bounce off each and every wall they touched. Unlike Alexandre back in Concord Heights almost ten years ago, Claire had no trouble noticing the ways those tiny particles would just bounce off into random trajectories, but that's not the most important thing that she had noticed as she closed the door.

The particles may not have escaped the room, as they stayed obedient enough to stay clear from the hallway, Claire could not have but to notice a small jewellery box placed on top of her desk. I don't recall seeing that before, Claire thought to herself, as she moved closer to the table. Upon reaching the front of the table she noticed a red Jewellery box, as well as a photograph right below it. No way that's for me, and even then, why is that there? thought Claire, as she slowly brushed the top of the box to make sure it's safe to open. What if it's another girl's box and I get caught for wrong reasons? Still, she decided to opened the box in hopes that nothing would go wrong out of it, only to unveil a beautiful, blue sapphire ring with a golden band written 'The fate does not rest'.

Dazzled by the clearest hues of blue it would produce, as well as the message of the box, she quickly put the box on one of the drawers. Once safely hidden away, she would go back to notice a photograph. Previously dark and empty, it was now filled with an image of a twelve-year old boy, who had medium-length brown hair and smiled with a smug only the boys of certain stature and age could produce. He was wearing a suit that was perhaps too big for him, and the medals that did not suit him, but Claire was trying his best to recognise the boy's face.

She thought the boy had looked familiar, perhaps one of those whose parents may remember - every well-known folk and pop singer paid homage to Eileen, and Sir. Asher was the darling of Joongyeongite circles whenever in town (once every blud moon) - but could not exactly get a hang of it. But why? Claire said to herself, as she grabbed the photo, opened the bedroom door and grabbed a seat on the wooden chair she had brought it from the common room to the balcony. After a foggy morning earlier in the day, there was not a cloud in the sky, and just watching the ravine descend from the high-point they were at gave her gratifying enough of a feeling.

When she tried to place the picture by the sun, however, the photograph of the boy would disappear into transparency. It was instead replaced by a red and black seaplane which was flying out from the east, took a turn and started descending towards that of the Campus airfield just outside the football stadium. Upon immediately noticing the image actualising into an actual plane in flight, she flinched back, before remaining still to watch the two passengers shout and scream in joy like children to their way.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

Ahead By A Century

PART 3 - Butterflies and Hurricanes

The red seaplane slowly descended from the east, went through the ravine, and then headed home into the short runway. The asphalt was clear and clean under the clear sky, even though there were plenty of maple and tree oak leaves right next to it.

After a quick bump, and a slow drag into the landing, the seaplane pulled up to a halt near the end of the runway, about two hundred metres next to the small football stadium.

A 18-year old head boy of foreign stock, who had not only been watching the plane land, but also communicated to them on a mic for the past half-hour of flight, walked over and waved at the two passengers who looked every bit high on the excitement. Slowly going on a walk, almost to emphasise the lack of urgency on her end, the boy looked back into the way the siblings - that being His Royal Highnesses Alexandre and Adelaide - felt exhilarated over the flight. Lightly lifting his neck, Georgie Norwood (whose official name was George Octavius of Krytenia, but nobody called him that, preferring to us the surname Norwood for his marquessate) looked back at Alexandre and Adelaide as if he were disappointed and yet...unsurprised.

Alexandre, whose six-foot-nine frame and toughened facial complexions stood contrast to his decently-combed brown hair, turned around and looked at George. Unlike his sister, who was dressed in a 1920s, vintage aviator jacket, trousers and goggles reflecting the old days of flying, Alexandre chose to dress in a purple, OVO furcoat that he had received, not bought it (huge distinctions existed) with a golden owl stitched to the breastplate.

It's going to be a long year, isn't it? thought George, as he gave a light, but still awkward smirk that he knew he had to work on as a head boy in this school, gestured his face to the hills that they were coming from, and then back. 'Surely sharply-dressed for your first day in school, aren't you?' George asked, suggesting that he wasn't particularly satisfied with the behaviour.

'My dear Georgie, this is a fucking seaplane converted from Drawkland,' said Alexandre, causing his sister to slightly twitch at yet another of question remarks made by his brother. 'And if the girls here aren't good enough for me, then sure I will head into towns not on those, but on Avros.'

'I am not her to fuck around, Brattleboro,' George answered back, emphasising that he was not at home in Joongyeong, or even in Wick Castle, the county house that the sibling's father, Caspian of Cassadaigua, had enjoyed. 'I may be a bloody nerd, and so are half the school in your eyes, but the rules are rules. Get changed as a prefect you are and should be behaving accordingly, the Housemaster will be looking for you in a half-hour's time.'

'Alright, alright,' answered Alexandre, as he would be the first one to get out. Adelaide, in the meanwhile, took a bit more time to get out. With the goggles on it was harder to see the greater picture sometimes, but one thing that she couldn't deny was how sweet it was always to see his brother, whose frame had given him a certain sense of lift away from the sky, to be reminded of his place.

This place always has the ways to bring an overconfident man back into the ground, doesn't it? thought Adelaide, as she would also use the opportunity to be escorted out of the plane with George. George and Adelaide did not have the closest of relations, mostly because George was a year above her brother at the Sixth Form, and George found greater solace in the Classics Club. Adelaide, who usually spent most of her town outside or with her girls, was more of a Moderns girl, who enjoyed looking at sport policy and also the Athlone Gala (not-Met Gala) at the same time.

'Did you hear that your year will be getting a new student?' George asked Adelaide, as they slowly headed the opposite way from the football stadium, and where most of the house dormitories were at. 'A first at that, if that's to be true.'

'I have, it's all over The Latest Whistledown l'Instagramme and BingBong pages, sure,' answered Adelaide, before looking back. The complex of scattered buildings and neatly-organised rows of trees and promenades were contrasted with the rougher, more sprawling bushes of the hills on the background. Strange how beautiful they would look from outside, but from inside it looked more jarring than anything else. 'But almost as if I would believe that.'

'She's already there, come on and be real,' George answered. 'Apparently she plays horn, if I may draw your attention.'

'Does she?' Adelaide asked. 'You may as well tell me that she shoots too, perhaps that's why Valdes is already back.' Her brother's mate, and a former escapade partner, Leonore Valdes was the daughter of Quebeco-Kytleran restauranteur and motorsports executive, GreGG McInnis Valdes. If 'Addy' were known to be the sailor in the town, Valdes definitely held the reputation as the shooter, who used to shoot trap and skeet regularly growing up in Eastern Downs before her parents moved to the Bay City's pier-edge Olympic village. But there was also another episode between them over what had happened on the week her and some of their mates had gone out in San Ortelio, but that's for another time..

'This girl doesn't look like a shooter, Addy,' George said. 'But I think you'll like her. We've known each other since year-seven and Mademoiselle Adelaide de Brattleboro is a tricky woman.'

---

It was around four in the afternoon when Claire Lundrigan had woken up from a nap. The first week of classes went fine - first few periods were spent as the introduction to the courses she had studied before back home, and the book offerings were nothing out of ordinary, whether by school or Silverhills' shelves, anyway. After the first Monday had passed, Claire decided that with just over twenty-five Quebecois pounds in her pocket, and feeling better after surviving Allard's morning class that her mates seemed to dread, it would not be a bad idea to travel to Avon town.

A couple hours away, and alone, would not be bad I suppose, thought Claire, as she got on the hourly bus to the town at four. Sports were yet to start and Claire, who had signed up for the field hockey team, still had until Wednesday at six in the morning for the trials. Still new.

Of course, being in town alone without a very specific purpose the Upperclassmen (Year 11-12s) accustomed to the town would, Claire did not end up doing much. It was a quaint, small town, with around three thousand whose economy had relied a bit on agriculture and the school, and the presence of old-world architecture were maintained by the fact that Avon town was around 30 kilometres away from an expressway.

Otherwise, there wasn't a lot for Claire to do on her own at the town, something that she had found quite similar to that of her hometown, and she did not have family nearby to go visit. Still, not exactly feeling to admit defeat, Claire decided to grab a screening of an old classic she would watch with mum, Les Parapluies de Cobourg. Another two hours would pass, then she would poke around to grab a smoked sandwich of age-questionable sauces at the Benson's Diner, where the things she could see old (public) school photos and the signatures of the naked and the famous visiting this century-old place right upon entering the town, before heading back to the campus by eight.

When Claire had come back, it was around half past eight. There was a senior girl named Anne-Marie Park in the lounge, with another senior guy, who Claire did not know, cuddling while watching a movie on one of the vanilla sofas. They looked up at Claire in surprise, initially in suspect of her telling, but upon realising that Claire did not care by the looks on her green eyes, went back to watching a rom-com.

Maybe I should go back to my room, the halls seem quiet again and maybe right now's not the right time to read, thought Claire, as she tried her best to think in case either of them would ask who she was. She would, of course, say who she is, and maybe mention her year, but how likely would they ask if she's the 'new girl'? By this point in her time, she had been made aware from conversations with her peers that she was the only transfer accepted into that cohort, and considering the words said about them and the two cohorts above, would probably get some looks. That's if she hadn't received them already.

It was around then that another stranger had entered the lounge. Upon hearing a thud, Claire had turned around in a flinched manner, and looked at the girl. It was Adelaide, the younger sister of the Crown Prince, with a badge or two added to the crest. Adelaide was a beautiful woman, of just under six feet in height, with distinctive, enquiring features similar to her mother. The words she had heard about 'Addy', even when Claire had seated close enough to the Princess at the Robinson House's table, was reminiscence to her mother. She knew everybody, and had clear thoughts and words about them, but was more at home with her sails or horses. But unlike her mother, with whom she had shared innate abilities similar to her mother, she preferred to just aim being as normal as possible.

Claire, still nervous about her classmate who seemed well at ease, quietly said and gave a hug. 'Claire Lundrigan,' she said awkwardly, not out of natural self but rather the unexpected nature of the situation. 'Sorry, I'm still new to here and all that.'

All Adelaide did was to smile back at her, perhaps exposing minor doses of nerves her parents would show to each other. 'So you are the new girl,' she said warmly. 'The Author and the Muse's daughter?'

'Oh,' Claire answered, trying her best not say too much about her parents. She had remembered that her father had known the Queen, but to what degree? And why haven't her mother mentioned of Christine the Second if this were true? 'Sure, but I'm just here as me.' Claire tried her best to answer, covering the Sapphire ring that she was wearing on her left hand quickly. 'And you must be Addy.'

'Yes, they say I'm the crazy bitch around here and it's true,' Adelaide laughed, before continuing. 'But it won't be boring. At least the auditorium won't be - Davies is a funny teacher. Are you grabbing dinner?'

'No, I've already eaten-'

'Let's go anyway. Never late to eat supper here,' Adelaide smiled, before heading out of the room.

---

The first month of school would quickly pass by in Avon-Gillespie. The boys and the girls would start their classes and Adelaide, whose bittersweet recollections with the way her first Olympics had went, was back into the Marina. As with any other AGS underclassmen (off-periods would exist starting her junior, and she was still a sophomore), Adelaide was still attending full schedule of classes, but the three-hours-a-day physical education requirement had more or less worked in her favour. Back into her comfort zone after spending weeks if not months away, all the way up to the Terranean Sea on the island that no longer existed on the map, Adelaide got a job maintaining the shed and the boats as part of the Sailing Club under their club teacher, a physics teacher by the name of Louane Lee-Barrett, on most days.

And Adelaide did come back to be with her friends, mostly the girls at her Robinson House who she had grown up together since Year Seven. Of course, it's a bit complicated to say how big that actual circle was, and the numbers did vary depending on who was being asked over it - some would say six, other eight, et cetera - but Addy and her girls did eat meals together and saw each other in the halls early in the morning and late in the night.

More often than not their membership would come and go, partly through athletic commitments and responsibilities newly attached towards them at the Upper House. Year ten of school year also happened to mean that sport captains, house captains, and other prefects happened to start getting assigned. The regularity of their tasks, as well as seeping of personal thoughts into more public domain, had brought some together and others apart, and generation of unneeded bureaucracy or backskirting of rules.

Among those was Alexandre, whom Claire Lundrigan would quietly ask, and Adelaide had known well but told little to none for narrative convenience's sake.

Of course everybody had known who Alexandre de Brattleboro was, and everybody had their varied words about the behemoth - that his eyes were always set on the fairer sex; that he was mostly set for a rigorous life of Royal Quebecois Navy (height-dependent); that some had found awfully close comparisons to his grandfather, Jacques IX the Warrior King-Emperor; that he had actually written sonnets before going to a rugby playoff match for his English teacher to read it out; that he would correspond regularly with Raoul-Christophe Jang-Nolan over Barbenheimer movies while the latter was in the Rulandese battlefield (accuracy rate: 15%); that he eyed upon Rushmori princessesl and that he found more to be at home in Concord Heights than Joongyeong.

Whether all or any of these were truth were debatable, and in some ways, seemed closer to urban legends, but the more Claire would spend time at the AGS alongside Adelaide's company, whose mutual friends had complicated relationship with him and his friends on individual and group level. Befriending most easily, reflecting that of a western or northeastern cowboy's swagger, he seemed out of fit at the Avon-Gillespie. A closer look at the school, and the instances of him grunting away from and outside the buildings, however, would suggest that he found the school's curriculum to his qualities and strengths at least.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

Ahead By A Century

PART 4 - Playing With the Boys

The waters here, dear ready, were known to be blistering on contact and cold and wet when nearing them. The waters here were the kind that was hard to navigate, and the winds ever-changing even when on the eastern, lesser-affected part of the Tantramar Bay that separated Acadie province's western and eastern halves, that even the windbreakers and the beanies did little in protecting the sailors' head and torso. It was half past three in the afternoon, and the waters just immediately outside of the Bay were deserted. The skies here have been overcast for most of the past month or so, a rare departure from the usual reputation of rain and grey the central hinterlands of Acadie would be known for, even as the wind went back and forth in motion.

Adelaide Marie was doing her best to control herself in middle of sails, trying her best to coordinate herself back to the harbour in the struggle. Being a kitesurfer, following the precedent made by her mother Christine the Second who was a three-time Olympian on windsurfing, had a penchant to go on more self-reliant, difficult of disciplines in sailing, and it was clear she, even after having spent over a decade in the sport, still had much to learn.

The sophomore had been in the marina for most days when she was in the school for the fall term, playing squash with the junior varsity team for the winter term before returning to the marina for the spring. While she had spent most of her sporting time at this place, around fifteen minutes away from the Avon-Gillespie campus, Adelaide felt no particular rush or even thought to a sailing career just yet. She had already participated in her first Olympics, where she was able to visit the Terranean coast for a ten-day period before flying home just in time for the closing ceremony. A week in Wick Castle would follow, after which her and her brother Alexandre managed to travel back home on, ah yes, the Red Seaplane. Nothing like that for The Latest Whistledown headline.

But she knew time was on her side - in six years, she would be twenty-two, still very early into a sailing career, and if paced well, could sail into her thirties and possibly up to four, even five, Summer Olympics. But the talk about purposefully holding back the next phases of her life, especially in the name of having an eternal career, was something that did not exactly ring well in Adelaide's mind. There is much more than to a living a single life, she would famously say to her classmates, who would often receive it as a matter of Adelaide, whose acute judgment and preparedness had reflected that of her mother and a decency from her father, being picky over things in life. They, more often than not, would miss that it's a Everything has multiple sides, and duties apply in all not just one of them.

One person who understood it too clearly was, of course, Christine the Second. The news of her visit to see her daughter as an unscheduled part of her royal visit to nearby towns, had reached Adelaide about two hours prior and Adelaide, who by then was well in the water, knew the Queen had little time to waste. Upon reaching the pier she got out, carefully anchored her kiteboard, and then watched Christine approach from a distance away with a black suit and a sailor's hat. Her mother had looked very much the same as her twenties, but over time Addy couldn't help but to notice the weight of time that had started to affect her mind and thus expressions.

'Maman,' said Adelaide, as she gave a quick curtesy back to Christine. 'You have come at right time.'

'I am always at right time, Addy,' answered Christine, smiling at how wet Addy's wetsuit and vest were. Christine's been there and done that, when she was still a novice sailor at the Yaletown School in Prince Eric, but in those days it would have been her grandmother, the late Queen Mother Nathalie, instead of her ever-busy mother, Queen Elisabeth (originally Elizaveta) and then sickly father Jacques IX. 'Now, when will you learn to wear a helmet like what papa and I have told you?'

'When I become like you, maybe just one day,' Adelaide smiled after giving a light laugh, to which Christine responded with a look of approval. 'I'm sure there are matters more dire that you want to see me for, wouldn't you?'

'No, sweetie,' Christine smiled, looking around. 'I just wanted to check and see how you, and if possible, Alex are doing out here. There is about an hour and half to spare here, so I have felt that it would be the right time to see how you two would be faring. Especially with the Whistledown continuing to whistle...'

---

'Nothing's out of ordinary with the school this year?' Christine asked in a sweeping manner of questioning, as they started to drive their way back to the Avon-Gillespie campus from the Marina. 'The senior last year, as you would know, certainly took advantage of the situation, broke a couple of stools and got into appropriate trouble close to the HSCs, the A-Levels and the Bac.'

Right, thought Adelaide as she was reminded about the incident. Said incident, one where about a twenty senior students had 'raided' the Avon town in a drunken stupor after their examinations, certainly did not leave a particularly positive connotation about the school and while most her cohort would return into the following school year, much greater scrutiny had followed in public for a month or so. 'No, subjects are fine. You would expect the usual drama, but you know it too well, also having come through the public schools and whatnot.'

'Sometimes, no news is better, and this also applies to you and Alexandre,' Christine answered, before pointing out what everybody had known. 'Nobody could disguise your brother from appearing at the QIS cross country championships at the UPLI, or anywhere he could be seen out in the stands, however.'

'That's Alex, you know he's a man of his own. He could spend one night on a women's lodge, and the other night in town off somebody's bed, but at least he got to witness a 15.25, a national record,' Adelaide's tone could imply that the siblings, while close in personal level, had some fundamental levels. 'They compare grandpa and granny all the time, without recognising that they both had, you know, those similarities too...'

'I'm not going to deny that your grandparents were nowhere near the saints, but let's not think about that for now,' interrupted Christine. The topic of her late father was still a sensitive one for her, even as she had well adjusted into that phase of parenthood where she was now the perpetrator instead of the receiver. 'I see that you are not wearing the Queen Nat's ring with you.' She then switched the topic and asked.

It was at that moment that Adelaide had misplaced her ring. It was neither at her room, nor her bag, but it was definitely not back in Joongyeong. She knew she had to lie about it. 'Of course not, the ring's at the safe in my room, and even I have forgotten the password for the safe,' lied Adelaide, hoping that her mother would know. 'It's the sapphire ring right?'

'Yes, it's the one that my grandfather, that being Henri the eighth, had given to the Queen Nathalie. A rare sapphire from Tombouctou and whatnot. She wanted you to have it.'

'Yes, now I clearly remember,' Adelaide answered, before putting on a letterman jacket. 'You know, that-'

It was then that the two were disrupted by the loudness of the Jeep coming from the opposite side, where the radio was blasting out a country hit from approximately five years ago. Both Adelaide and Christine, who was behind the wheel, as well as a couple of security cars some distance behind the speeding 1950s convertible she had on her disposal for the trip, turned around to look. They could notice that all the windows of the Jeep, which realistically should have been seating only five, open with no less than eight, school-aged passengers just older than Adelaide, singing:

Let me hear you say, truck yeah
I wanna get it jacked up, yeah
Let's crank it on up, yeah
With a little bit of luck I can find me a girl with a truck, yeah
We can love it on up, yeah
'Til the sun comes up, yeah
And if you think this life I love is a little too country
Truck yeah

'What the fuck,' was what Christine said, as the Jeep inched closer. It would drive past her quickly, with the passengers shouting a bizarre combination of celebration calls 'Hail the Future Admiral Jang! Hail the Prime Minister Lucien! God Save the Queen! Long Live the Queen!' in the manners of drunken prppy teenagers would behave on their trip to a town bar. Adelaide did not look their way, perhaps out of awareness and embarrassment over it all, but the Queen took looks at the teenagers - three of whom were halfway out of their car, one above the sunroof and two of them drinking in the trunk.

For a time she wore an unidentifiable expression she would give whenever she had to appear in official presence, but once the Jeep had disappeared into the horizon, she looked to the right to see Adelaide, whose face had turned red out of embarrassment. 'Your brother added Jang Joon-Gweon into whatever that chant was, didn't he?' Christine asked, remembering that Jang Joon-Gweon, the nation's finest red-ball star (Wanda Hosaka was a finer, more explosive batter at white-ball and Adeline Barnes was an all-arounder in every aspect of cricket) who was engaged to Bronco Moran's daughter Hannah, was someone he dearly looked up to. 'Funny because Jang's fiancee has been Kweon Binnington staffer for some time now.'

'Who else would it be?' Adelaide answered. 'And yes, that's the Prince of Abitibi we are talking about. Him going around in that manner, like great-aunt Caitlyn once was, like that grandmaman would appreciate that so much.'

'Now, now, let's not talk that way about Alex,' Christine stopped Adelaide, before they would start to slow down. An intersection near the longer, country road into the school was around two hundred metres away. She knew it was the right time to turn around. 'How's the new girl you've been talking about? Lundrigan, is she?'

'Ah, her,' answered Adelaide, feeling an additional nerve strike right at that moment. 'She seems worried, but not exactly about here, to to speak. Amazing at horn, and alright in hockey. People say she's very much like her father's tongue and mother's voice, and I could see why now.'

'That's a nice thing anybody could say, you know how fondly I think of Sir. Asher, her father,' Christine smiled back in satisfaction. 'To be called that is the dearest compliment any man or woman would give to someone.' She then asked again. 'Does she talk much of her family home?'

'Not really, but she talks about her brother who's in a wheelchair and a little sister sometimes,' Adelaide answered. Of course, she did not exactly know that had hit her nerves.

'Poor thing. The young one nearly killed that woman,' she said. Adelaide turned around to look at her mother, perhaps in surprise in which her wording about Claire's mother, Eileen de Ramaut (Plongeon), had changed so abruptly, but by then Christine had returned to give as little facial expression as possible.

---

Another month would pass between now, with the scholarly matters combined by the current affairs, those that were communicated via international and domestic media outlets, and latest gossips that would be communicated by a bit murkier fronts such as, yes, The Latest Whistledown (formerly known as Gossip Boy in twenty years ago under original co-owners). The extracurriculars would carry on as usual, the Sixth Forms busy with their respective choice of university examinations, and the weekends would see taxis or chauffeurs lined up for the Upper House (or older members of Upperclassmen) to go for a weeknd getaway.

That aside, for most part the life had gone along fine for our dramatis personae however, with Claire would find more liberty in field hockey practices and private lessons in the town proper, Adelaide trying to spend more time in the libraries when not working for the Marina, and Alexandre's pathway looking clearer than ever as a future Naval Aviator Corps pilot, and those were some of the liberties that those affluent and privileged could afford that many on the outside world did not have.

Even for a school like Avon-Gillespie, however, there were some traditions that the students followed with religious devotion, and that was homecoming. The world of public schools (in old-world, not conventional terms - those would be state schools, dear reader) highly valued the return of the alumni, who often had heavy pockets and lived to the world of either their country estates or the skyscrapers somewhere out there in the metropolises. Most did not exactly have the festive vibes of the bigger homecomings held by the state schools, whose marching bands numbered hundreds and games would be played in expensive school district stadiums, but they had more intimate? nepotistic charm that was their own appeal.

Avon-Gillespie was of no exception. Being a school of around eight hundred but in six grades, Avon-Gillespie did not have the raucous atmosphere, but look deeper and you could find some of the names to be of intrigue. Whether it be a recent cabinet minister Mylene Graham, a famous NSCF and now-RFL quarterback Benoit 'Benolution' Youngblood, or runner Brianne Mitchell-Oleksiak, or a few lords and ladies and businessmen whose presence would bore you out after they were neutralised by the urban, corporate life, there would be crowd who would forget about the Big City Lights and spend the weekend at their old high school, perhaps to reminisce their days in the rolling hills of Avon County.

As with almost every Homecoming the king of the weekend were the so-called Homecoming games. A full weekend or if compressed, a weekday (what's wrong with these urbanites? and on daytime? well yes, this was indeed the case in my old high school where the spirit was great but the public board said f-u to nighttime events in general -e.d.-), would be used to schedule a slate of home regular season and/or playoff matches. Sometimes it would involve the selection of homecoming kings and queens in a pseudo-popularity contest involving the seniors, a precursor to the eventual 'crowning' at the Maytime Prom later in the year. This was not something that the AGS had really done relative to their in-state equivalents, but the significance remained in the forms of playoff rounds.

It was in early November, one week before the Remembrance Day. The Avon County by this point had gone freezing and foggy, with sight lines on the road barely seeable and the ravine looking more like the mouth of a volcano than an actual ravine. This was the sight that about a couple of thousand visitors to the Avon-Gillspie Campus had reacquainted themselves, their numbers not enough to fully fill the international-regulation multi-purposer, but the atmosphere had made it up for it. Usually their homecoming games were not scheduled, and this was of no exception, but the availability of livestreams and VousTube had already made lives easier for everybody anyway.

The crowd did seem particularly loud this year, however, as the Avon-Gillespie would come to face Kennebecasis Collegiate School on the second round of rugby playoffs. It was the even-numbered year, meaning that they would be having rugby union for primetime homecoming game at five in the evening, while odd years were for gridiron football. Led by a certain lock in Alexandre, who played a reliable role expected of his fix-feet-nine frame that also attracted tacklers (who wouldn't want to tackle a future king?), the Gophers started off strong scoring three tries in first fifteen minutes, and never really trailing for the match. The final score was 56-10, their first win in four years against the Kites, but the star of the game was not Alexandre, who knew his role as the lock and the decoy in the scrum, but Leonor Valdes, who had scored four tries to mark a school record in the rivalry match.

The roar of the crowd was loud and tangible, even more so as the Gophers would clinch a spot to the regional finals, and the claps were felt like that of the birds' wings flapping. Even as the team would go to their dressing rooms, and walk out, their minds were still on the cloud nine. Alexandre unsurprisingly was one of them, him having noticed a sizeable contingent from her father, Caspian of Cassadaigua. He was accompanied by Heo Seung-Geon, the son of hall of fame third baseman for Kingston and Concord Heights Myeong-Shin, his father and grandparents.

'Well done, Alex, you held on so that Valdes could fly,' said the Duke of Halifax, as he hugged his son. 'Well done, now drop your stuff in your room and let's head into the dinner hall.'

'Thanks papa,' said Alexandre, as he smiled back and thanked his dad, perhaps feeling a slight sense of joy in hearing a compliment so delightful as this, before he headed back to the Annesley House.

Annesley, unlike most other houses, were situated on the bottom of the ravine, with the original intent being that this made available for the original class of students, who would eventually fight in the Southern Rushmori War just half-decade later, would be able to head directly into rowing exercises. Alexandre wasn't exactly a rower, him preferring to fly rather than to swim or row, but he still appreciated the vantage point to the steep ravine that would surround him, and after four years (with a term away in the other side of Portal), he had made himself a home there.

Alright, tonight's going to be good seeing the Geoffrey Geon again, thought Alexandre, as he got out of the three-floored brick building. He was back in his suit jacket, with prefect and rugby captain badges and a purple scarf added, and was ready to go.

For a brief second, however, he saw a light. It was a tiny, focused concentration of light that had come from the trees that grew along the rocky walls of the ravine. Huh, thought he, as he turned around before continuing to walk the other way.

Not that it helped him anyway, however, as the light would flicker once, then twice, before hitting Alexandre in the back. Alexandre, losing control of his body, fell sideways.

[Quebec and Shingoryeo]

Ahead By A Century

PART 5 - What You Saw Was A Lie

The moment Claire had fired the shot, she had realised that she made a mistake.

Shit, was all that Claire said, as she lowered her position with the rifle. It would be an overstatement to say that she was shocked. She may have made an error, and she did acknowledge that she should have thought out a little bit better before firing a shot with the ceremonial rifle, but she did not collapse. All this time, Claire had thought the running target was maybe a stag, one of those that would roam now and then in the hills. Maybe a moose, which had roamed this part of the country in hundreds if not thousands. In one of the rocky walls of the ravine's cliffs, she couldn't exactly see much below past the dark contours and should she be charged, this could hold some water in the court.

In any case, however, it was all too clear that she had made an error. Claire Lundrigan wasn't meant to use the rifle for that purpose after all. The rifle was an instrument intended for celebratory gun salutes back in the main grounds, with the Upper House members were designated for the task (that being year 10-12, separate from Underlassmen-Upperclassmen distinction that would go years 9-10 vs. 11-12), and her decision to wait on the cliff walls a little bit longer to fire, instead of where all the other boys and girls were heading towards, was poorly thought out on her own end. So what she had thought out to be a cool shot with additional smoke over the ravine, that she was originally going to do so with a single round of custom bullets that were made available to her, was instead used to shoot Alexandre, and the repercussions of it may not be so magnanimous if caught.

The rifle left a light trail of smoke and the fear came. A shiver had hit Claire's shoulders, reminding her of the weight of her actions. She immediately realised that she had to run back to the stadium for the main festivities alongside the other girls. May I be forgiven for whatever that may have happened, thought Claire, as she quickly climbed her way up the cliffs with every effort and speed she could place to herself. What a horrible mistake I have made, and one scary like that...what would my maman think of this, someone who shot a man without fear...

The way back to the main core of campus buildings did not take a lot of time, though it did seem like Claire had taken hours to get there than the usual matter of minutes. While doing so she did not blank herself out immediately, even as both the guilt and the rush of the attempt heading back had left her mind cloudy and lost while she attempted to zig-zag her way to the Levana, the main dining hall used for both student-wide and private functions. It was a mix of feelings she could not describe right away, and there was not much that she could remember of those who had noticed her rushing her way back there with a still-hot rifle. All of this had passed her quickly. It would only be some time after when she would find out that she was lucky none had considered her running all the way back to be anything out of ordinary, perhaps owing to the festive nature of the weekend.

When Claire had gotten back to the balcony of the Levana Hall, the dinner was close to being over, but the party music had already started from some distance away in the lesser-used ballrooms, Claire knew that wherever she would go, somebody's going to notice him. The particularly-intimate nature of this year's homecoming festival did not help either - the presence of Alexandre's father, Caspian, the Duke of Halifax; the Heos and the Youngbloods, not to mention a certain GreGG Valdes and the Krytenians with their own entourageother high-profile guests, only added to how crowded the Dining Hall was - and Claire knew that she had to wait it out and perhaps come a little bit later, maybe just in time to join her fellow girls who had volunteered for the celebratory gunshot and cannonball firing at nine p.m.

---

Early November 2062 was an awkward time for Heo Seung-Geon to come visit the Avon-Gillespie campus. His father, Myeong-Shin, had just been appointed as the bench coach for the Saint John Green Sox, and both him and Seung-Geon were persuaded by their grandfather. Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, the Head of The Chunchugwan Institute of History (CIH) which chronicles all Annales of the Shin-goryeoite Dynasty, and the Royal Archives of Shingoryeo (RAS), where the Royal House of Jeongs hold their respective records, was particularly insistent upon them visiting the AGS on an odd weekend, and persuaded them that Seung-Geon's visit to the AGS property would not only be a good time for his grandson to take time off from Joongyeong, but also to have him see three of the pupils who had spent much of the time growing up with the Kingston native - sophomore Claire Lundrigan, senior Ezra Shainberg, and a certain junior Alexandre. Seung-Geon, while not particularly enthusiastic considering the hectic performance and practice schedules he had been running as trombonist at his first year with the Conservatoire de Joongyeong, reluctantly accepted in the grounds of seeing them.

Standing at six-foot-ten tall (or around 209cm, for those asking for a specific number), and barely weigh more than his parents, Heo Seung-Geon was a tall, barebones of a man his parents, a hall of fame third baseman Myeong-Shin and volleyball coach Naomi, were. his longcoat was found to be slightly oversized even when Seung-Geon had picked the skinniest possible fit he had requested. Boarding an overnight train at the Joongyeong's Gare de l'Est station with his grandfather, who seemed to be satisfied with every step of the way his grandson had taken in his presence, Seung-Geon slept quickly into the night, and despite his father having joined them as the train stopped at Saint John Central station, slept for most of the eleven hours that had passed between Joongyeong the Avon town station.

Having spent a full day at the Avon-Gillespie school, where he certainly had the pleasure to meet the students who seemed more interested with his father for understandable reasons, and chat with his grandfather and father, who he had little time to talk during the baseball season, Seung-Geon felt both at ease and slightly out of place at the Avon-Gillespie campus. This was no different at the dinner, where he was seated right alongside the Youngbloods. In some ways this came a particular relief as the Youngbloods, unlike Seung-Geon who was alumnus of another prestigious college in Bugil halfway between Songak and Joongyeong, held strong connections to the school with Benoit's name still fresh having led AGS to three state titles in gridiron football. Having largely spent a more or less relaxed existence away from the pressure that his father and grandfather had lived under for his foundational years, Seung-Geon found enough joy in asking Benoit and Pierre, the former Royal Quebecois Olympic Committee chair, their time with the school and the memories with the leafy covens of the school that they admitted had not changed in the past half-decade.

After about an hour of it, however, Seung-Geon decided that he needed to take a puff somewhere outside. While the conversations were interesting enough, and he's had decent conversations, Seung-Geon also knew that much of it was rather done as a duty to his grandfather, whose love for him felt a bit overwhelming at times. Being eighteen he had relatively little reasons to seek much nightlife out in the Avon-Gillespie homecoming, and he had barely found opportunities to talk to either Claire, who he remembered fondly as a 'younger sister' with joint vacations, and Alexandre, who looked up to him highly as a fellow brass player. He knew that Alexandre was busy with his own duties as rugby captain and a prefect, yes, and the Duke of Halifax's presence definitely did not make it easier (moar security? moar inconvenience for peeps in general), but Claire, he couldn't find her at all. Just the schedules did not match.

The balcony outside one of the private dining rooms was where Seung-Geon comfortably found himself. Quickly unlocking the packet of B&H cigarettes from his coat pocket, Seung-Geon slowly sipped a glass of cherry brandy while smoking a cigarette. It was a perfectly dark night, with little to no light to be seen in sight. Most visitors, who would usually visit this campus with rare frequencies, would not notice how close the Levana Hall were facing against the cliffs, and several accidents over the years have caused the balconies to be kept off-access barring rare occasions.

Seung-Geon, who bore his own streak without actually displaying them so flamboyantly as his Kingstonian friends or Joongyeongite colleagues would, had one of those. He chose not to care about them. But he would not be the only one to risk being on the balcony either, however, as he would turn around to look at a stranger who had rushed her way from the side-doors to the balcony. A tall woman wearing her uniform and a jacket, she looked too familiar and child-like for Seung-Geon, who immediately recognised that this was Claire.

'Goodness me! didn't expect to see you here, Seung-Geon,' said Claire's voice. She looked genuinely surprised, perhaps not expecting Seung-Geon to stand in her way right as she was about to take the detour and join the dinner. Claire's original thought process, whether successful or not, was to pretend that there would be some semblance of normalcy before heading intot he celebrations. They could hear a little bit of murmur coming from the other dining rooms, and a couple of misfired shots made their way coming from other parts of the campus.

'Claire, is all okay?' Seung-Geon answered back. He was also surprised, but unlike Claire who worried every bit of the worldly worries, held little to no suspicion about the sophomore's possession of what looked to be a celebratory rifle. He quickly brushed off whatever the feather or conifer leaves on his coat sleeves, before giving her a quick embrace. 'Where were you the whole time? Please don't tell me you were out there the whole time while the ole Doc and everybody else were looking for you.' He asked.

Claire had to devise something else, maybe tell something else. 'I had to pick up stuff for the girls - you know, my house is on the other side of the ravine, and we forgot about it til like halfway into the dinner lines.' Claire flushed as she answered, feeling slightly nervous about the explanation. In all fairness, this was partly true - she did have to bring a couple of items, but this did not include her trying to act cool by firing an early shot into the ravine. But was she answering them out of nerves? Likelier than not.

Seung-Geon quickly became thoughtful, but decided not to ask further. He had a feeling that it was not the best time to do so, and she seemed more busy than not. 'My dad and grandpa are inside, you should go say hi to them - you know how fond the pops is towards Sir. Asher and whatnot,' said Seung-Geon, giving a light smile back.

'Of course, can you just promise me one thing though?' asked Claire, in hopes he would listen. 'Something really really urgent, and that you can't tell anybody.'

'Sure,' Seung-Geon nodded in response.

'Don't tell anybody where I was if they do ask,' Claire said faster. 'Just tell them that I had to go back to Robinson Hall, and that I was in a hurry but got lost, and had barely made it in time for the celebratory shoot-off into the air. And don't tell them about the gun,' she looked at the gun, before resuming to speak. 'The shoot-off's going to be a bloody mess - I don't know how to hold onto one without shaking!'

'No worries, now carry on in that case,' said Seung-Geon, as she tapped her right arm. Claire almost immediately ran across the balcony, before heading to the direction of the football stadium.

---

Seung-Geon remained in the balcony. Watching one cigarette after another slowly burn in a thin, grey line, he slowly sipped a glass of Cherry Brandy and would watch over the next ten minutes as individual flashlights would emerge, some at the bottom of the ravine but most heading that way from the top of ravine. From the trajectory of the lights, as well as growing boom of noise surrounding him both on the lounge and below, Seung-Geon seemed to have gotten a gist that something was wrong, and that perhaps there might have been a serious accident right below that's been causing homecoming celebrations to be disrupted.

Quite unusual if anything, thought Seung-Geon, as his ears were now surrounded by the continued noise, the people shouting and whispering that Alexandre, the Prince of Abitibi, had been shot down in the ravine. But no way that somebody would mistake him for anything. For a brief time, he tried to tie the dots together with possible theories as to what may have gone wrong, but nothing seemed to have made sense. The cannons and the shoot-off were supposed to happen elsewhere, and there would have been no reason for Alexandre to be all the way down there.

Could this have been an accident? That's the immediate thought flashed into his mind, right as his grandfather, the previously-mentioned Dr. Heo Dong-Soo, opened the door. Wearing a dark suit with his Royal Moogooongwha Order medal pinned to the breastplate, he walked hurriedly to his grandson, his facial expression half consisting of worry, half uncertainty. 'Seung-Geon,' said Dr. Heo in high register, something that Seung-Geon would immediately notice as a matter of urgency. 'Where the hell were you?'

'Grandpa, I was just enjoying some fresh air-' he tried to answer.

'Must you really smoke? You have a long career ahead of you, not in living the life of a writer or critic that artificially requires you to shorten it, but as a brass player. As a master of the sound, your lungs are everything, and I'm sure Marina has asked you to quit smoking the other day.' Dr. Heo said, reminding Seung-Geon of what Marina Eckert, his trombone teacher at the Conservatoire, had advised. Dr. Heo, by this point in his sixties, was an active smoker, but he tried his best to avoid smoking in public capacity, something that had caused him great troubles considering his positions.

'Sorry grandpa,' answered Seung-Geon as he quickly killed the stump with his feet. 'You know I'm really trying my best. Perhaps not the easiest especially with the great-grandpa passing, and you know, just a lot.'

Dr. Heo only smiled back at him. 'My pride, let's not go further with this apologies nonsense,' he answered, slightly lifting his voice. 'Have you not seen the Lundrigan girl? I'm surprised Claire has not come to see you, here or at the dinner. I would have checked, but as you could see, the Duke of Halifax had asked for a couple of requests regarding the eventual declassification of Bejia-Flor files, and for some reason the stately affairs can't seem to stop me here.'

Seung-Geon thought for a brief second, his right hand at lightly gripping his chin to suggest his processing, before deciding to stick to the promise. 'No, I have not, grandpa,' answered Seung-Geon, his voice firm enough in establishing confidence. 'I'm sure she's with her girls, and presumably Princess Adelaide, to do the celebration shoot-off, no? I will be there in a moment - all that's everybody here's talking about is how they have brought 1750s cannons from the old Royal Navy ships-'

'Shoot-off's called off, don't bother,' Dr. Heo shouted back in his northern Acadie dialect of Shingoryeoite Korean, giving a light gesture to wave off said suggestion. His voice stayed high and fast, the tone of the tonal dialect more than enough to suggest the seriousness. 'Prince Alexandre is shot, apparently found bleeding on his shoulder off a significant gunshot. Horrible, horrible sight with bleedings everywhere, they say. You and I will stay the night, but under caution, and your father heading back to the hotel in the town proper.'

Sometimes it was hard for Seung-Geon to figure out if his grandfather was really distraught with the words of Alexandre's wounding, or if he had just accepted that yet another event would follow Alexandre, the Prince of Abitibi whose escapades have been well known in the outlets at home including The Latest Whistledown. From what he had seen based on conversations with his grandpa, the Dr. Heo Jr, or his 98-year old great-grandfather the Dr. Heo Sr., whose socialist, republican tendencies have been well known (and propagated, mostly by their detractors), Seung-Geon could figure out that what him and the peers had thought and experienced from Alexandre were very much different than the court. While Seung-Geon had viewed Alexandre as an adorable clown, whose personality certainly fit that of a tuba player, he could also see why his grandfather seemed worried more often than not whenever Alexandre was mentioned anywhere.

'Will do,' said Seung-Geon, before asking his grandfather. 'But what about Claire? Should I still go and check with her?'

Dr. Heo the junior was not amused. 'Don't you have so thing called phones? I'm sure you could text and just meet her wherever the hospital ward is. Maybe here - perhaps they could bring in doctors flown in - or maybe to Oakwood. Lord knows - let's just not hope for the worst.'