Long Live the Princess [IC|MT|COMPLETED]

[Saint-Auguste]

LONG LIVE THE PRINCESS
A Commonwealth Society Roleplay

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OOC | The Commonwealth Society | Regional Map

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The IC thread for Long Live the Princess. You may only post here if you have been added to the ‘Participating Nations’ list in the OOC.

Please keep OOC chat to the OOC thread. This thread is for IC posts only.

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[Saint-Auguste]

Ville du Saint Royal Airport
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Princess Stéphanie had arrived into the city of Ville du Saint via her personal private jet with her immediate family the day before the coronation. Relieved at the absence of paparazzi as she landed in the Royal Airport, which only VIPs could afford, and there is no public access into the airport grounds without a valid ticket. The Princess had time to reflect on what was to happen over the next couple of days. The once low-key fashion icon will now become the leader of a nation as the monarch, and have an international role to play.

"Stéph, how are you feeling about tomorrow? The time has finally come, and I couldn't be more proud of you my love." Dimitri, her husband, said to her with loving eyes.

"Everything will be different now, I will lose some of the freedoms I had before, and have an immense responsibility to this country. I want to be a good leader, and take our country in the right direction, we have so much potential. We have to get used to way more paparazzi than before! But I'm excited, I have you, and little Jean-Luc to support me!" She said passionately.

"Mama! Ssssppplhhh" baby Prince Jean-Luc said, with enthusiasm.

"You're going to be great Stéph! Lots of foreign delegates will be there tomorrow right?"

"Yes, I hope to have some brief dialogue to introduce myself to the international community, but most of all we must show that we are a strong and ambitious nation. Thankfully Pierre will be there, he's much more well-versed in international relations than I am!"

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Morning of the Coronation
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The Cathedral bells chimed in sync with the trumpets played by the marching band. Soldiers and military officials dressed in ceremonial uniforms patrolled the streets of Ville du Saint, and densely protected the perimeter of Saint Auguste's Cathedral, the site of the soon approaching coronation.

Cheering crowds gathered behind railings along the path which the Princess would soon be driving through. Some citizens had painted the flag on their face, while almost every citizen held a flag in their hand, waving it wildly. It was a beautifully crisp spring morning, not a cloud in the sky as the sunlight beamed down on the medieval city. Excitement could be felt in the air, a fresh new beginning for the nation.

Military police slowly drove towards the cathedral on motorbikes, followed by groups of marching soldiers, then followed by the highest ranking archbishops in the country, extended members of the royal family, and then the Princess in a large golden horse carriage, behind her more soldiers and military police.

The Princess was calm, she knew this day would come ever since she was a child. She had her family by her side, her husband, her infant son, and the love from all the adoring citizens.

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Outside Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The Foreign Legion escorted the foreign leaders and delegates that had arrived to attend the coronation, they were equipped with various instruments and banged their drums along with the cathedral bells. Prince Pierre was also ready to welcome them, having already become acquainted with many of those attending. He knew that this was an opportunity to form closer bonds with foreign leaders and to show them a slice of Saint Augustine culture, which most of all comes with throwing massive fancy parties.

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[Kherkov]

Ville du Saint Royal Airport
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Evening before the Coronation

The huge military plane thundered to a stop as it hit the tarmac of the Ville du Saint Royal Airport, the muted Imperial Iron Cross and ‘REICHSVOLKSLUFTWAFFE’ emblazoned on each side clearly distinguishing the aircraft as Kherkovian. After taxiing to the appropriate location, the vehicle’s infernal engines whirred to a halt. The nose of the plane began to open as a ramp was lowered, a number of state cars emerging from within, dual Kherkovian flags fluttering from each bonnet. The rear window of the middle car rolled down, revealing a left arm quickly tossing out a cigarette butt onto the tarmac, before rolling up again.

As the motorcade reached the accommodation in Ville du Saint designated by the Saint-Augustine authorities, they were greeted by the Kherkovian Ambassador to Saint-Auguste, as well as a gaggle of economic and trade officials employed in various Reichskommissariats. As the hulking frame of Crown Prince Adolphus exited the middle state car along with his guard, the officials rushed to click their heels and salute him, the Ambassador approaching the Prince shortly after.

“Good evening, Your Imperial Highness. It is our pleasure to host you in Saint-Auguste.”

The Crown Prince grinned at the Ambassador. “A pleasure to be here, Ambassador. Unfortunately, it is part of my duty to engage with foreigners every so often.” He said, laughing.

The Ambassador let out a light chuckle. “What can we do for you, sir?”

“I must admit, I find myself parched, and in dire need of a few bottles of Saint-Augustine wine.” He said, lighting up another cigarette as he entered the building. “Fetch my dinner suit – the peaked lapel, yes - and invite the Viperian Delegation to drinks - with cigars - after they arrive. It’s been a while since I’ve seen that bastard Tarkhanov, I do hope he’s still as entertaining as I remember him.” The Prince concluded, flicking ash onto the floor, winking at a blushing maid as she passed.

---

Outside Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Morning of the Coronation

As it turned out, Sergei Tarkhanov was as entertaining as Adolphus remembered, and so he found himself being escorted by Saint-Augustine parade troops with a palpable headache, wishing the foreigners would cease their racket. However, adorned in full Kherkovian military parade dress, with medals, various sashes, and ceremonial gold aiguillettes, it was quite impossible to tell externally that the Crown Prince had personally finished numerous bottles of exorbitant wine the night before. While it wasn’t anything the young Prince hadn’t handled before, it was nevertheless an annoyance each time, exacerbated this time by crowds of baying foreigners and the percussive clattering that appeared to pass for marching music in this country. Adolphus had decided in his teenage years that the blood of cowards ran through the veins of the House of Beauharnais-Auguste, after his historical studies – and he held that same opinion to this day. Even with support from Holy Kherkovian Empire units at sea and on land, and the defeat of the Republican rebels in 1801, Pierre II of Saint-Auguste had still made concessions to democratic agitators.

And this simple fact, for Adolphus, was the reason why this entire ceremony was nothing more than a sham. It was the line of Beuharnais-Auguste, through cowardice, that transformed a once proud nation under Jean-Luc IV into the abomination that it is today. The Crown Prince had always been disgusted at the Western Albionian nations for the same reasons. How could a line that has allowed its subjects to stray so far from God claim divine right? How could an institution that has bent the knee be called royalty? And how could one possessing neither strength nor virtue call themselves a monarch?

These three thoughts played repeatedly in Adolphus’s head as he surveyed the bleating foreign crowds, the paltry soldiers, and wretched clergy. Such was the fate of Saint-Auguste under Beauharnais-Auguste. Only the House of Zohlburg knew what it meant to rule. Today, Stéphanie would occupy a trinket throne, and all the pomp and circumstance in the world could not convince the Crown Prince otherwise.

As he ascended the steps of Saint Auguste’s Cathedral, Adolphus was forced to put such thoughts to one side. His father had not mentioned explicitly, but the Crown Prince knew exactly why he had been sent to attend this weekend. Of course, on the surface, it was to maintain relations with a ‘fellow’ monarchy. But Adolphus knew he was here to test Stéphanie. Her father had been more than content to allow expansion of Kherkovian business interests and domination of multiple Saint-Augustine markets – including energy – as long as his own personal coffers were lined in the process. Adolphus had always considered him a feeble little man the few times they had met, but at least he seemingly had the sense to recognise the supremacy of Kherkov. Now Adolphus would have to confirm whether Stéphanie shared the same sentiment. “Cowardice begets cowardice”, he thought to himself as he entered the building and sought out his allocated seat. If Adolphus found himself on a pew rather than in a booth, he was going to be even more irritated than he already was.

[Demesetelis]

Ville du Saint Royal Airport
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Afternoon before the Coronation


The Sultan's black private jet touched down with a loud thump, its occupant's drink glasses clinking together as the plane slowed to a stop. The sultan finished off his whisky coke and rose with a sigh. He wordlessly walked down the aisle to the door of the plane and descended the stairs to to the limousine that had just pulled up below. Following behind him was his brother and head of security-Caleb, his top advisor-Adeel, and his Grand Head of Commerce-Arsalan. Arsalan was the only member of the group with any sort of pep in his step, as he was half Saint Augestine via his mother, and had pestered Adeel until he allowed him to come under the guise of schmoozing with the rich elite during the afterparties to drum up foreign investments. Of course Arsalan still planned to schmooze, but he was truly there to experience the side of his heritage he has been forced to suppress over the years. It would seem suspicious for a top member of the government to show as much love for a foreign nation as Arsalan holds, but he feels he can show his true emotions at such an event without much scrutiny.

Loaded up with their bags, the limo sets off across the tarmac, having to stop and wait to allow planes to land twice. The airport was pretty busy today, with many heads of state and representatives arriving before the coronation. Instead of heading towards the terminal, the limo made a beeline for the helipads, stopping just short of a waiting helicopter. Starting it's life as a troop transport, this copter had been retrofitted to become one of the Sultan's personal limousines in the sky. He had it transported in that morning. The waiting pilot, one of the Sultan's own, opened the limo door for the Sultan, greeted him with a short bow, and began to load his luggage into the helicopter. Stepping out of the limo, Caane spoke for the first time since his jet took off from the Grand Camel Rider City Airport. "I'll be taking the reigns on this one, Johannes."

"Of course." Replied Johannes, looking up from the trunk of the limo "I saw reports of a crosswind of about 25 knots for most of our trip, nothing you can't handle."

"No, 25 knots is not something I would worry about." Replied Caane with a chuckle, his upcoming flight time improving his mood considerably. "That time I got caught in a sandstorm over the Sparkling Desert I coulda swore I saw the readout hit 50! God, I was lucky that storm was low enough to the ground for me to rise above it, you saw how gummed up my rotors were after I landed!"

"A daring feat indeed!" huffed Johannes, straining under the weight of the Sultan's gold accented document trunk.

The Sultan's entourage piled into the helicopter as the pilot finished his loading, and Caane began his pre-flight check. Being an avid pilot, Caane took extra pleasure in piloting helicopters. Even though the couple whisky cokes he drank on the flight made it illegal under Saint-Auguste law for him to fly, he has never let such petty international laws dictate his actions before. Even such, if anyone on the helicopter had any objections, they most certainly would not bring them up. As they rose into the sky, Caleb was happy to see a slight smile on Caane's face. Ever since the attempt on his life and the assassination of the family patriarch by Demesetelian rebels emboldened by the Cimmerian event, Caane has been in a monumental slump. Caleb hopes a little old fashioned coronation will lift Caane's spirits. Not the actual event, of course, but the massive parties that will ensue.

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Demesetelian owned Château
Outskirts of Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste



The Demesetelian family owns many homes in Commonwealth territories, one of such being conveniently located in Ville du Saint. This classical styled château was furnished to the same standard of all the family's properties. With opulent furniture, an indoor and outdoor pool, multiple fountains, and a helipad, this home was one of the nicer ones in the Demesetelian portfolio. As everyone stepped off the helicopter, the sultan greeted his ambassador to Saint-Auguste, a nephew by the name of Bacaan, who had eagerly been waiting their arrival.

"Bacaan" Boomed Caane, his demeanor seeming to darken as soon as he left the pilots seat. "I hope you have everything prepared for us. I take it the house has been "warmed up"?

"Of course Sultan" Replied Bacaan with a short bow. "We have the standard array of staff on hand, the pools are clean, and I have 2 barrels of your favorite whisky on hand."

"Perfect, see to it the staff move my documents trunk into my office at once, I have some matters to attend to."

"Sultan!" Interjects Arsalan. "I thought you said your role on this trip would be pleasure only, you should not worry yourself with state matters, they can wait for next week!"

Caleb, recognizing the mistake Arsalan made by questioning Caane when he is in such a mood, began to limp his way to the house, hoping to spare his ears some.

Caane turned to Arsalan, his face darkening with a look that would send ice into anyone's heart. "Arsalan" There is a sort of restrained rage in his voice. "What is your title?"

"Grand Head of Commerce, sir" Arsalan meekly replies, knowing he has made quite the mistake.

"Commerce!" Shouts Caane, startling the onlookers who seem to be looking anywhere but at Caane. "Stay. Your. Role. How I handle my role is not for debate. I will fly right back to the airport and return home to do my work if I feel like it! The fact that you would take it upon yourself to try to advise me on how to best rule is insulting. Go make me some money, I do not want to see you until tomorrow." With that, he took off towards the house. (Shouting over his shoulder) "And do not think I do not know your true reason for being here!" Those words sent a shiver down Arsalan's spine.

"Foreign investment my ass" Mutters Caane to himself as he enters the home. "More like an excuse to party, just like the other nephews, he is."

Hours later, Caleb enters the Sultan's Office, informing him dinner is ready to be served.

"I will be down in just a minute" Replies Caane, packing the papers he had on his desk into his trunk. After Caleb had left the room, he pulled a laptop out of the trunk and booted it up. From inside his robe he pulls out a flash drive. It took him four tries to get it in the right way, but after succeeding, he loads up the virtual server the access token unlocks. Clicking through multiple windows, the sultan lands on a live video feed. Depicted by this feed is a dark cell in the basement of his palace. Chained hanging from the wall are two men. One was the surviving gunman from the Taste of Deme attack, and the other is one of the conspirators caught after the assassination of Amir Demesetelis and his granddaughter. While both men have many wounds in various stages of healing, most of which were afflicted by Caane himself, the conspirator who planted the bomb on that fateful night has seen the worst of it. After being castrated, sliced, burned, and missing both hands and feet, the man clings on to life. Both men receive top notch care for their wounds, though, without painkillers of course. The sultan wants their suffering to be long and drawn out, and with the pained look he can see on their faces, even through the grainy feed, he is content for today. Removing the token and powering down his laptop, the sultan stands to enjoy some of the best Augestine cuisine available, having hired renowned native chefs from across the country to cook for him.

---

Morning of the Coronation
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The sultan's limo pulls into its designated spot, and his entourage emerges all dressed in their Sunday best. Caane and his brother are outfitted in their military garb, with Caane having so many medals on his jacket, all of which he has quite the story for, he clinks as he walks towards the procession. Putting on his best fake smile, he joins his place in the walk to the cathedral, nodding with respect towards his fans in the crowd. Having already thrown back no less than four whisky cokes this morning, he feels quite prepared to sit through the hours of pomp and circumstance ahead of him.

[Batavie]

Blauwe Kamer
Paleis Noordeinde
Willem stad, Batavia
2 days before the coronation

“I am telling you, Willem, this is the perfect gift.”

“Your majesty please, we can’t do this, it's wholly inappropriate.”

“Oh nonsense Willem, nonsense. Those Saint-Augustine allow buggery and all other sorts of depravity. They’d be elated at such a gift! Why wouldn’t they be?”

“Your majesty, the Saint-Augustine may allow homosexuality, whoremongering and other such activities, but this does not mean that they would like a… uhm... “

“Oh come on you child, you can call it what it is: a vibrator. Personally, I’ve found such items quite useful in the absence of my husband.”

“Your majesty, I am sure you and your womanly needs are met by this item but this is a public event. Even Saint-Augustininians are not that open about their sexuality. I plead with you to give them some jewelry or something of cultural importance.”

“Fine, I thought it’d be appreciated but I guess not. We can give them a painting of the island ceremony when we bought Mauritius and such.”

“Of course your majesty, I will have the servants get one.”

---

Ville du Saint Royal Airport
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Afternoon before the Coronation

Batavia one’s wheels touched solid ground and the plane came to a comfortable halt, the Queen was the only one who clapped at the successful landing. “Damn kids and their phones.” she remarked. As this was a royal coronation she’d brought the royal family along with her on this trip, throughout the flight they were using the folding pPads from Pear, notably not a phone. The Queen finished her last beer and stood up. “Kids, we’ve arrived.” Only the adults got up, her grandchildren were still focused on their pPads. “KIDS, WE’RE HERE.” She spoke screaming. Her grandchildren did hear her this time. The royal entourage consisted of the Queen’s husband, 3 sons, 2 daughters, their wives and husbands and her 3 grandchildren. The Queen was satisfied with her offspring’s fertility so far. Having 3 grandchildren at age 56 was quite the achievement.

The family had rented a large motorcade for all of them, with drivers and the necessary drinks and protection. The Queen had made sure her favourite beers would be aboard these cars as she knew she’d mostly be served wine, which she considered a drink for women and homosexuals. She considered herself a strong Batavian woman, not one of those wine-drinking gossip girls. She had hopes the new Saint-Augustine Princess would also be a strong woman, despite her French heritage.

“Say, honey, do you know how many of the nephews Caane is bringing?”

“I am not sure Willie, but I don’t think he brought any more than necessary.”

“Shame, they would surely have made the whole event more lively.”

“Well, Caane himself will still be there.”

“I do so hope he gets as drunk as when we were at that benefit for kids with cancer, that was what we call a Demesetelian classic.”

“You mean when he puked all over that expensive sofa?”

“Oh you stiff, what’s a party without a good bit of puke and furniture ruining.”

---

Morning of the Coronation
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The Batavus motorcade parks in their allocated spots, the group of 17 people get out of their respective cars and walk towards the cathedral.

“Wat een kanker dikke kathedraal.” Remarked prince Elias.

“Elias, let op je woorden!” spoke his mother

“Oh mam doe niet zo moeilijk, niemand hier spreekt Nederlands. Let maar op. Kanker dikke hoere trut is de koningin van Saint-Auguste.”

“Elias godverdomme, doe even normaal, als we binnen zijn gedraag je je. Saint-Auguste heeft trouwens helemaal geen Koningin, zij is een prinses.”

“Oké dan, tering.”

[Viperia]

Ville du Saint Royal Airport
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Morning before the Coronation

As the wheels of the plane crashed down on the tarmac, Sergei was jolted from the peaceful sleep he had been enjoying for most of the flight. This minor inconvenience, he thought, would likely be the first of many. A fitting start to a trip he had been reluctant to take in the first place. As the Viperian Representative to the Commonwealth Society Assembly, Sergei had more dealings with foreigners than most and so he was seen as a sensible addition to the Viperian delegation at the Princess' coronation. Sergei, however, thought there were far better uses for his time. That said, he was all too aware that rising in the ranks of the Viperian government would require a tedious task or two from time to time. His next tedious task, and the next minor inconvenience, was waiting for him on the runway.

At the bottom of the plane stairs, a car was waiting as expected. What Sergei had not expected, however, was to be greeted personally by the Viperian Ambassador to Saint-Auguste.

"Katya, you old bitch! How are you this fine day? More importantly, what are you doing here? We had agreed to meet later at the embassy, no?"

Ekaterina Brezhnev, the Viperian Ambassador to Saint-Auguste, often had little patience for her own people. Particularly young upstarts like Sergei Tarkhanov who perfectly embodied the stark contrast between Viperians and Saint-Augustines.

"I see you have not lost your charm, Sergei, I do hope you save some for tomorrow" she replied, sarcastically "I felt that leaving you unsupervised on your stay would have regrettable results and your poor decorum thus far has only confirmed my suspicions" she entered the back of the car and gestured for Sergei to do the same.

"While you're clearly old enough to be my mother, Katya, please don't act like it" Sergei quipped as he entered the car "Speaking of, I have some urgent business with some local contacts so unfortunately I will have to take my leave of you once we arrive"

The car, now well on its way to the Viperian Embassy, had a variety of alcoholic refreshments on offer which Sergei wasted no time in sampling. Ekaterina wasted no time showing her disdain.

"I am aware of your business, Sergei. Beyond that, I would ask that you stick to the schedule for the coronation and refrain from needlessly bringing embarrassment to me, yourself, or the great nation we represent. Tomorrow is an important day, not only for Saint-Auguste but for all in attendance, ourselves included"

"Don't worry, Katya, what could I possibly do to embarrass you?" Sergei responded after a sip of his drink "That reminds me! We've been invited to drinks and cigars with the Crown Prince of Kherkov this evening!"

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Morning of the Coronation
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The previous evening's festivities had taken their toll on Sergei and, as such, he had slept almost the whole journey. But as the Viperian motorcade arrived at the cathedral, the deafening crowd managed to rouse him from his slumber, though barely.

"I still don't understand it" he said, exiting the car and donning a pair of dark sunglasses "All this fanfare and pompery for one little girl! The last time a Viperian monarch drew a crowd of this size he wasn't nearly so pleased to see them, luckily he didn't have to endure it too long!"

Barely acknowledging the joke, Ekaterina said "The Saint-Augustine people truly love their monarchs" she gestured to the crowd that now surrounded them as they made their way to the cathedral "And they believe their monarchs love them just the same"

"Then they are fools" retorted Sergei "But I must say, they certainly know how to put on a show. It is a truly impressive occasion"

The two ascended the steps to the cathedral, found their places and settled in for the day's proceedings.

[Sanguinem Sanctorum]

Ville du Saint Royal Airport
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Evening before the Coronation


His Divine Excellency stepped onto the stairs of the Sanguinem Sanctorum plane with his retinue, their gaudy state uniforms striking a contrast with the rather run down looking aircraft; most of them looking a little bleary eyed and wobbly- clearly they had enjoyed the journey. The Archbishop stepped to the front and began delivering his sermon, a blessing of the attendees, the Princess and Saint Auguste that most out of earshot felt dragged on, rocking and tapping their feet praying that it would end; and those within earshot listened with raised eyebrows at some of the more questionable topics.
When it had at last ended, with Tarquinius looking decidedly pleased with himself, he raised his staff- a gilded and elaborately decorated shepherd's crook- above his head and began his cautious descent of the precariously steep stairs.
Being met by the captain of the Saint Auguste foreign legion commanding their motorcade, Tarquinius blessed him with a cross of holy water on the forehead- at which he looked suitably horrified, before asking how his journey was with a textbook salute.
"Excellent, as God willed" said the gold clad archbishop with a smirk, at which one of the accompanying apostles rolled his eyes at the perceived mockery of their lord.
"Don't worry, he'll cheer up.....hopefully" he went on, with a discreet nod to the grumbling bishop behind him, "He 'overindulged' a little on the plane....and please, call me Tarkers". Turning to the Saint Auguste diplomats sent to greet them with a sly smile "A most warm welcome, for that I thank you. It is nice to be back here, Sanguinem is often so humid this time of year. And this coronation, eh! I hope the Princess is well?" he said.

"I could not say, your excellency, it has been some time since I saw her last" said some diplomat whose name Tarquinius couldn't quite remember

"Oh well, we'll get a glimpse of her tomorrow I am sure. Tell me, what is the ......BLOODY HELL" he exclaimed with a grin. He had just spotted the Sanguinem Sanctorum ambassador to Saint Auguste, Septimus, a man famous for his 'liberal' interpretation of the bible, whom some of the delegation felt brought out a drunken debaucherous side of Tarquinius- a side which didn't take a lot of encouragement to emerge.

While the two younger men chatted about old times, the captain of the guard's attention came to an elderly, snarling bishop in the purple sash of the twelve Apostles, one of the men whose power was second only to the Archbishop's. "A child leading our security, sounds about right" spat the tall, gaunt man, before striding off toward the waiting motorcade without waiting for a reply.

The delegation, archbishop, ambassador and bodyguards wended their way past the foreign legion guard of honour toward the vehicles strewn with their flags and settled in behind armoured glass and curtains to be taken to their accommodation, at which many headed straight for the bar, many others the chapel.

---

Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Morning of the Coronation

Awaking early, albeit reluctantly, the combined delegation head for the local chapel, where the lessers kneel at the back while His Divine Excellency delivers a morning sermon to the delegation (something he absolutely abhorred). Fortunately, time intervened to save the more tender members and Tarquinius was forced to cut short to allow those required to change into their robes of state and stand half a chance of making it on time. The evening's entertainment had lasted long into the morning- for some at least- with the Holy Dominion's envoys more than willing to sample the local hospitality, often more than once. The older and more orthodox of the members had not partaken, instead remaining in their rooms, and were now lording their clear heads over the less fortunate.

Arriving at the cathedral, The Archbishop again blesses those present, before striding ahead, trying to get out of the public eye as much as possible. The gaunt Bishop- Lucius- was engaged in hushed conversations with another rather frail looking man about the benefits of attending- notably showing allegiance to fellow Christians- even if they are 'Papists' (said with a shiver).
The group shuffled in, being delayed by the older members, and took their seats awaiting the beginning of the ceremony, being slightly disappointed at their seats rather nearer the back than they would have liked. As they walked past the guard of honour, several guards swore they heard a slight sloshing and the outline of a hipflask beneath the cassocks of more than one.

[Britcan]

Ville du Saint Central Rail Station
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day before the Coronation

The Royal Train pulled into the station, the door to the King’s carriage line lining up precisely with the small group of officials waiting on the platform. The two Saint-Augustine soldiers in dress uniform standing to attention either side of the door and the red carpet carefully rolled out before it gave the arrival a proper sense of ceremony without taking over the station. A small crowd had gathered behind a rope line a short distance back, some having come specifically to witness the arrival while others had merely happened across the event while going about their normal business. On the opposite platform a group of trainspotters, all in anoraks despite the pleasant Saint-Augustine weather, took photographs of the train.

King Matthew II stepped off the train. He wore a well-tailored, if slightly conservative, double-breasted suit. He was followed by Princess Sophie, his eldest daughter, who, taking full advantage of Saint-Auguste’s warmer climate, wore a fashionable summer dress. In their coverage of the arrivals local news sites would later report that the dress was designed by Pierre Deschamps, a Saint-Augustine designer based in Britcan. The first person to great the King was the Britcani ambassador, who gave the customary bow before shaking his hand. He then introduced the two Royals to the waiting officials. The King’s had, at best, a limited grasp of French but was able to exchange basic pleasantries with each of them. In contrast, Princess Sophie was far more comfortable with the language and made light-hearted small talk. The group then proceeded to walk down the platform, King Matthew II and the senior Saint-Augustine official at the front. They did not make fast progress. The King seemed to stop to shake hands or talk to onlookers and station staff every couple of steps, his easy smile and understated confidence just about covering for his limited French.

Despite the seemingly relaxed conduct of the Britcani delegation the whole arrival had been carefully planned. The Britcani Government had been keen to win the favour of the Saint-Augustines, the transition to the rule of Princess Stéphanie providing a golden opportunity to do so. The decision to arrive by train was a highly symbolic one, the railway line between Britcan and Saint-Auguste being both a physical link between the two countries and a visible example of co-operation between them. Furthermore, it highlighted Britcan’s status as Saint-Auguste’s only neighbour while also casting the King as down-to-earth, arriving at a public station rather than a cordoned-off private airport. The timing of journey itself had been meticulously planned to avoid disruption to local Saint-Augustine services, a fact that had leaked to the papers a few days beforehand. Even the delegation itself seemed designed to charm the people of Saint-Auguste, being kept to two people to avoid either personality being lost beneath a sea of cousins and in-laws. The presence of the King himself showed that respect was being given to the soon-to-be-crowned monarch while Princess Sophie as a young, genial, and French-speaking Princess was well placed to connect with the people of Saint-Auguste. The modern Britcani monarchy was a largely symbolic institution, but one that fully understood the power symbols have.

Eventually the group made its way towards the station exit, the King and his daughter entering a waiting car. As the crowd dispersed the train once again became a buzz of activity, support staff and the press pool disembarking. However, most notable disembarkation was a large, carefully wrapped rectangular object carried by two porters. Under the layers of protective wrapping was an idyllic landscape painting of the Leonian Mountains in the spring. This was to be the coronation gift.

---

City Centre
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day before the Coronation

The first stop after the station was the Britcani Consulate in the city. King Matthew II had taken the time to converse with the staff, thanking them for their work, before sitting down with the Ambassador and local officials to take tea. Princess Sophie meanwhile had been interviewed by the local press, as even by the standards of a relatively open monarchy like Britcan it would’ve been considered rather gauche for the reigning monarch to be engaged in such things. Princess Sophie’s status out of the line of succession gave her more flexibility in that sense. The interviews were pretty standard light fare, thanking Saint-Auguste for it’s hospitality, saying she was looking forward to the coronation and expressing her hopes for continuing friendship between the respective nations. Sophie nevertheless pulled them off well, answering questions warmly and in fluent French.

The next stop was the city centre. Accompanied by the ambassador’s wife, the Princess took in the sights of the city. She viewed local landmarks, visited trendy boutiques, and had stopped for an afternoon coffee at at local café. In many ways the scene was an unremarkable one. Sophie could have been any one of a number of young Saint-Augustine women enjoying a similar afternoon. Of course it was just this exceptionality in doing the ordinary that was the point of the visit.

---

Outside Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day of the Coronation

King Matthew II was in a good mood as he approached the Cathedral, enjoying the pleasant morning air and the joyous roar of the crowd. He seemed so comfortable with the situation that were it not for his pristine uniform, which knowledgeable onlookers would recognise as that of the Supreme Commander of the Britcani Armed Forces, his manner could easily be mistaken for a man walking through his garden on a Sunday morning. Though he would never admit to it, the King was finding some small amusement in the fact that many of the other dignitaries were clearly nursing hangovers. Some hid it better than others of course and still others bafflingly seemed to still be mid-session. The King knew they were not going to be enjoying themselves, his younger years had taught him that a splitting headache and nausea did not pair well with lengthy ceremonies. The addition of a loud band and a crowd in full voice would be unlikely to improve the situation.

Princess Sophie did not have the same nonchalant attitude as her father, for whom large crowds were an everyday occurrence, instead she seemed to draw energy from the occasion and smiled radiantly as she walked towards the Cathedral. Her outfit for the occasion was an expectedly symbolic one. Her dress was the deep royal blue of the host nation and she wore a necklace gifted to the Britcani Royal family by Saint-Auguste in a previous diplomatic exchange. As she approached the gilded gates to the Cathedral she admired the fine architecture of the building. Sophie and the King both warmly greeted Prince Pierre at the entrance before heading towards their assigned seats.

[Saint-Auguste]

The Coronation
Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The inner cathedral was beautifully decorated with flowers, Saint-Augustine flags, royal artefacts, and royal banners bearing the family crest of Beauharnais-Auguste. Red carpets covered the stone floor, various seating areas had been designated for guests, amongst them the extended royal family, politicians, friends of the royal family, Saint-Augustine elites, and foreign leaders. Archbishops from across Saint-Auguste all stood at the front, with the Archbishop of Sawyer ready to perform the ceremony. All the guests had been seated by officials, everything was ready for the arrival of the Princess. The trumpets sounded the national anthem of Saint-Auguste as the golden carriage arrived at the entrance to the cathedral.



Princess Stéphanie gracefully stepped out of the carriage, she was wearing the most formal royal robes, adorned with royal decorations and jewellery. She wore the most expensive necklace in Saint-Auguste, made of diamonds, with a large blue diamond as the centre-piece. Such royal attire had never been seen before in Saint-Auguste, having never had a female monarch. Of course, on top of everything she wore the traditional coronation mantle worn by all of her forefathers, the mantle was a deep navy blue colour with golden fleurs-de-lis.

All stood as the Princess entered, the trumpets continued playing as she walked towards the front. Elegant as ever, she felt immense pride in this moment, she felt confident, and looked it too. She had a vision for the future, and only she could take the country in this direction. The trumpets stopped, the Archbishop stepped toward and began to speak.

"Today we are here to witness the coronation of Her Serene Highness the Sovereign Princess of Saint-Auguste, Stéphanie I.
At the site of our patron saint's death, a new era for our nation begins now."

"In the presence of Christ, I here present unto you Stéphanie, your undoubted sovereign Princess.
Wherefore all you who are come this day to do your homage and service."

The Archbishop now turned towards Stéphanie.

"Will you to your power cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgments?
Will you to the utmost of your power maintain the Laws of God and the true profession of the Gospel?
Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of Saint-Auguste?"

"All this I promise to do. The things which I have here before promised, I will perform, and keep. So help me God." Stéphanie replied.

"Oh God, the crown of the faithful; bless we beseech thee and sanctify this thy servant our Princess, and as thou dost this day set a crown of pure gold upon her head, so enrich her royal heart with thine abundant grace, and crown her with all princely virtues through the King Eternal Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

The trumpets sounded once more as the Archbishop placed the large golden crown, sparkling with various rare gems, upon Stéphanie's head. The crowd chanted "God save the Princess! God save the Princess! God save the Princess!"

"God crown you with a crown of glory and righteousness, that having a right faith and manifold fruit of good works, you may obtain the crown of an everlasting nation by the gift of him whose kingdom endureth for ever."

The act of homage now took place: the archbishops and bishops swear their fealty, first the Archbishop of Sawyer knelt in front of the Princess and said "I, Archbishop of Sawyer, will be faithful and true, and faith and truth will bear unto you, our Sovereign Lady, Princess of this Realm, and unto your heirs and successors according to law. So help me God." The other Archbishops followed, and finally Dimitri, her husband, paid homage to his wife, repeating the words of the Archbishops and kissing her on the cheek.

After a few more prayers from the Archbishop of Sawyer, the choir began to sing as the Princess stood and slowly walked back down the path she took, surrounded by the Archbishops. The coronation was complete.
As she walked outside the cathedral, loud cheers from the crowd could be heard over the trumpets.

---

First public broadcast from Princess Stéphanie I
After the coronation

Good evening everyone, I would like to begin by saying thank you to all those who have congratulated me today. It is the greatest honour of my life to serve this country and I am so grateful to have the people's support as I take on this massive responsibility to continue the work of my father, my uncle, my grandfather, and all those before me. I have in sincerity pledged myself to your service, as so many of you are pledged to mine. Throughout all my life and with all my heart I shall strive to be worthy of your trust.

The people of Saint-Auguste are proud and strong. We protect our nation and our people, we fight for liberty and justice wherever we can. I wish to make a promise to the people, that I will uphold and expand the freedoms we hold so dearly as citizens of our glorious nation. Henceforth, Saint-Auguste will continue to be tolerant and respectful towards all. Including foreign partners in trade and diplomacy. However, we must call out the evils that exist in this world and stand by our allies in doing so. From Britcan to the SBD, as a nation we must strengthen our ties to our closest friends. Our business priorities should be with those who uphold the same values as us, for too long we have ignored the absence of freedoms given to the people of some nations we do business with. The people have been calling for change, and I will enforce the people's will. We must continue to increase liberty and equality. As the first ever Princess to serve as your monarch, it is my duty to represent women and other minorities of this nation, and to promote harmony and diversity to launch our nation into the next age. We must go forward together in peace, seeking justice and freedom for all.

Our parliament and democratic processes remain too restrictive and reform must be made. I wish to continue tradition, and as the Head of State and leader of the Crown Council I will continue my father's work in governing this nation. However, half of the members of the Crown Council remain as undemocratically chosen business leaders. My first act as your new monarch will be to hold a referendum for the people to decide if all the members of the Crown Council should have to be democratically voted in. I will be discussing with the government and the National Council to allow this referendum. I know many will be shocked at my openness and honesty in this speech, it is my ambition to be a transparent leader. Many of you know me as a very private person, and I take privacy very seriously, but you have my word that I will be open to the people about matters that effect our country, and I will always listen.

I feel the excitement today from all of you, I feel the energy of our nation, this is a day I will remember for the rest of my life. Our nation has unmatched potential. I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for your loyalty and affection, my family has served Saint-Auguste from the very beginning, and I will continue to serve as your leader. God bless you all.

---

Grand Ball for the Princess
Day after the coronation
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

A ridiculous number of flashy cars rolled up to the entrance of the venue. Many celebrities were invited to the Grand Ball, including all those that attended the coronation. The Princess was already inside to great each guest, she was ready to meet the elites of Saint-Auguste, the politicians, and foreign leaders. In an evening filled with food, drink, and dance, it was surely going to be one to remember! The smell of expensive perfumes and cologne filled the entrance hallway as the guests were being greeted. Professional dancers had already began dancing to the music, and the massive amounts of luxury foods and drinks were ready for consumption. The interior was filled with rich colours and artwork with tables for the guests, with a large dancefloor in the middle.

---

[Kherkov]

Kherkovian Acommodation
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
After the Coronation

As the broadcast ended, the Crown Prince was consumed by rage. Britcan? Democracy? Equality? Just what had Eugène been raising this woman to believe? The speech was carefully worded and veiled, but the intention was clear. Stéphanie was pivoting Saint-Auguste towards the Old Enemy. Did she not appreciate just how entrenched Kherkovian business is in this pitiful country? Adolphus’s mind was a jumble of thoughts as he laboured internally to calm himself down. Shaking off his anger, he lit a cigarette, and took out his phone to make a call.

“Your Imperial Highness, good morning.” The voice of the Reichskommissar for the Exterior came calmly out of the Kherkovian-made smartphone.

“Augustbach. I assume you saw the speech?”

“I did. How exciting! I hung on every word.” Replied Augustbach, ostensibly sarcastic.

“And what did Father have to say about it?” Quizzed the Crown Prince.

“His Imperial Majesty is here now… it appears he doesn’t much care.”

“Does he want to do anything about it?”

The conversation paused, with Adolphus able to hear some murmuring from his father, unable to quite make out what exactly he was saying. “It is for you to decide, Your Imperial Highness,” resumed the voice of Von Augustbach, “this weekend is yours.”

“Understood.” The Crown Prince paused to think for a moment, drawing from his cigarette. “Then you’re going to be a busy man today, Reichskommissar. This is how we shall proceed…”

---

Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

The ballroom was abuzz with activity as Adolphus entered the room. High profile Augustines and dignitaries from across the Commonwealth mingled before the Crown Prince’s eyes. But, for now, he had particular business. Scanning the room, he located the recently coronated Princess amongst the crowd. Marching toward her, power in each step, he stopped short as he allowed his personal assistant, Bofer Diese, to announce him.

“His Imperial Highness, the Crown Prince Adolphus von Zohlburg, Heir Apparent to the Kherkovian Imperial Throne,” came Diese’s voice, in fluent French.

Unfortunately, Adolphus himself was not so linguistically inclined, and so made his introduction in English. “My congratulations, Your Royal Highness. I have been pondering whether you might grant me the honour of a dance.” He said, with his signature grin beaming across his face.

[Demesetelis]

Immediately after the Coronation
Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The Saint-Augustine procession out of the cathedral was almost as regal as its entrance. When the newly crowned Princess glided past the Demesetelian delegation each member performed a traditional bow. The sultan's bow was restrained, showing respect of equal status to the Princess, with his right foot only leaving the ground enough to be barely seen poking out from under his robes. The other members performed full bows. Arms crossed, each man bowed to a waist height while kicking their right foot fully behind them. The Saint Auguste royal guard stood at the end of their pew was unprepared for such a showing, and as such caught Bacaan's full kick in the thigh. Red faced and staring straight ahead, the guard said nothing as Bacaan profusely apologized. Ignoring the commotion going on behind him, the sultan continued to watch as the Royal Family passed by, followed by many Bishops and government officials dressed to the nines in brightly coloured and starched outfits. After them, the guests began to empty their seats. Instead of joining the throng, Caane sat back down, and the rest of his delegation followed. "No reason to get caught up in all that. We'll all get outta here around the same time anyway."

"Actually, sir, I was thinking I would head out with the Batavian delegation." Injected Adeel, while flashing a charming smile at the young Batavian girl sat behind him, who turned quite the shade of scarlet and adverted her eyes.

The sultan let out a slight chuckle and leans in to whisper in Adeel's ear. "I had seen you throwing glances her way the whole coronation. Keep it classy, my friend." Throwing Adeel a wink, Caane then turns to Queen Wilhelmina stood behind him. "Are we all still getting together for the address tonight, Wilhelmina?" With a smile, she replies. "Of course, Caane. Going to be quite the party! I hope you're ready to be drunk under the table, I almost had you last time!" Sensing a gap in the crowd, she leaves him with a playful punch on the arm and their delegation begins to file out, the younger members seemingly glued to their pPads.

"I was planning on heading out as well, my Sultan." Announced Arsalan. "I have a lunch planned with some old business partners."

"Sure, sure." Replied Caane, with a wave of his hand. "I'm about to head out anyway, the crowds are thinning. Bacaan, are you riding back to the house with us, or do you have other plans as well?"

"Actually, I have been invited to an event nearby, I will meet you at the chateau later, if that is ok?"

"Of course, we're all enjoying this trip aren't we." Caane replies with a smile.

After exiting the cathedral, Caane and Caleb found their car sitting in the line of other

delegates waiting to find their way through the gridlock on the streets. As they approached the vehicle, the valet attendant exited and held the door for Caane. After slipping a bundle of large Franc notes into the jacket pocket of the attendant, Caane and Caleb settled in for the long drive back to the Chateau. Caane had flown his daily driver in, and was at home behind the wheel of his B6+ rated bulletproof Rolls Royce Phantom. Slate Grey exterior with a Racing Orange interior, this Rolls had been both elongated and widened to account for the armor and to provide extra room for its many amenities. To further support its security, Caane had rifle mounts bolted to its extra wide B pillars after the attack. After a few minutes of driving, Caleb spoke up. "What in the world are we listening to?" "Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture." Replies Caane excitedly. "The Saint Augustine anthem reminded me of his work. The cannons are coming up, my favorite!" Caane turned the radio volume to almost its max. "Cannons!!" Yelled Caleb, with a very confused look on his face. The music began to swell, and then BAM. Caleb jumped with each cannon blast, the car's surround sound system making them sound as if grenades were exploding under the car. "Haha I love it!" Yells Caane, straining to be heard over the horns and cannon fire. Even with the yelling, Caleb had his hands pressed against his ears, so he did not hear. Both their ears would ring for the rest of the car ride home, but Caane thoroughly enjoyed blasting classical music the whole way.

---

Grand Ball for the Princess
Day after the coronation
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Stepping out of their limo to the shouting and camera flashes typical with such a high ticket event, the Demesetelian delegation was dressed in formal attire, with the Sultan forgoing his typical robes for a black Brioni Vanquish II suit. Climbing the steps into the Hotel, each member broke off to go thoroughly enjoy the massive party. Caleb stuck with Caane, and the two of them made their way towards the large bar to the side of the main ballroom. "Two whisky Cokes and a Stoli and Redbull." Ordered Caane, taking a seat at the bar.

"Your whisky of choice, sir?" Replies the barman.
"Pappy Van Winkle, and leave the Redbull can for my brother here."
"Pappy Van Winkle? I'm sorry sir we don't carry that."
"Fine. Blanton's will do."
"I'm so very sorry, we do not carry Blanton's either."
"You don't carry Pap or Blanton's? I didn't know Saint Augustine would be so primitive with their Bourbon choice."
"The only Bourbon we carry is Four Roses single batch, would you like that sir?"
"Four Roses! Jesus all you have is Four Roses? Yeah, I guess it will do..."
As the barman turned his back to prepare the drinks, Caane turned to Caleb. "All they have is Four Roses?! Ill have to talk to the hotel owner sometime that is just unacceptable. An establishment like this should know that their clients with refined palates would thoroughly enjoy a good Bourbon." Caleb was not paying much attention to Caane, as his eyes were tracking a group of scantily clad socialites walking past the bar. "Eyes forward Caleb!" Said Caane with a playful elbow to Caleb's side. "Hila would not be happy with your wandering eyes."
"Ha, every man looks at the goods, a good married man does not touch! They obviously want to be seen, why else would they wear such dress. Look at the one in yellow! Her outfit is practically lace over a jeweled bikini. And besides, my eyes will soon be the least of your worries. Did you really need two drinks?"
"I only had 3 on the ride here! This event is a 5 drink pregame for sure." Interrupting their ogling, the barman sets their drinks down on the counter. "Start a tab for us, put everything anyone with the last name Demesetelis orders on it." The barman nods and walks off to serve other patrons. Sipping his first drink with a grimace, Caane says, "Damn Four Roses! It'll have to do. What are your plans for the evening Caleb?"
"Ill keep an eye out on you, but ill stay back. You have lots of boring small talk ahead of you, none of which I want to be a part of." Replied Caleb with a chuckle.
"Make sure you are enjoying yourself. I can handle my own you know." Caane finishes off his first drink with a large gulp, and begins on his second. "Who should I meet up with first? You see anyone interesting milling about?
"Anyone interesting? Everyone is interesting. You have the celebrities, various delegates and heads of state, some of those religious nuts from Sanguinem, even..."
Caane cuts him off, "Oh god not those religious guys. I can't imagine we would have much to talk about. We are practically polar opposites!"
"Being polar opposites to religion does not sound too good..."
"Oh, you know what I mean! Religion has no place in my government, I can't imagine a whole country ran by it! No, I wont start there. And no celebrities either, they are always trying to one up everyone else." Caleb looks at Caane's $55,000 suit and $600,000 Rolex with one eyebrow raised. Not noticing his look, Caane continues. "Someone I can actually talk to. Do you see Pierre? Or maybe Wilhelmina?"
"No, but I do see Princess Stephanie. Dancing with the Kherkovian Crown Prince Adolphus."
"Adolphus? Slimy one he is, watch out for him."
"He seems pretty charming to me."
"Ehh, its something about his eyes. Always looks like he's plotting. Very observant." Caane finishes his second drink, whereas Caleb is still sipping his first. "I'm going to find a waiter with some of those crab cakes I saw waking in. Want me to grab you one?"
"Nah, Ill keep on people watching. You go do your thing."
With that the sultan left the bar in search of delicious crab cake.

[Sanguinem Sanctorum]

Accommodation of Sanguinem Sanctorum
Following official broadcast

"Fairly standard official broadcast" Tarquinius remarked to his assembled lackeys nonchalantly, "Almost completely lacking substance. Good idea, avoids offending anyone too early on. Although, is this going to be broadcast back home?"

"Not sure, not yet at any rate"

"Well, see that it isn't. All that talk of elected council could be problematic."

Lucius sat forward. "Lacking substance?! She's advocating freedom in all aspects of life, and last time I checked that included religion! Our presence will not have gone unnoticed and this is nothing more than a thinly veiled threat against the sanctity of our Holy Order!"

"Potentially.....either way keep your mouth shut for the sake of relations- at least the facade of them. Besides, no one besides us in the whole country has seen it, and I intend to keep it that way."

---

Grand Ball for the Princess
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste



Emerging from the fleet of luxury cars that ferried them to the ball, the Sanguinem delegation stepped into the cool night and flashed past the gaggle of press, through the doors that had been opened for them, into the ballroom. Several, including the Archbishop, had ditched the cumbersome robes of state and were instead clad in their military mess dress, far more suitable attire for a ball- not to mention dancing, Tarquinius conspicuous in his brilliant white uniform.
The stricter contingent of the group went and sat down, either in groups or with members of the foreign clergy, while the rest practically ran to the bar- having first ensured that no press were inside (alcohol being illegal in Saguinem, photos existing of them drinking would not go down well). Their mood improved dramatically with each empty glass hitting the bar.
After a suitable time, they took to the floor to begin socialising with their fellow attendees, dancing with several of the more attractive ones.

[Batavie]

Immediately after the Coronation
Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

“Oma, mogen we echt niet mee feesten?” Said all the grandchildren naggingly.

“Kindjes, kindjes, oma en jullie ouders gaan veel te hard feesten. We kunnen echt niet zorgen voor jullie!”

“Maar… Oma!!!”

“Nee, nee. Ga mee met Tante Ans, zij gaat op jullie letten vanavond.”

As Wilhelmina and her family walked out of the cathedral they looked for their motorcade which was supposed to be standing right near where the Demesetelians were parked. They found the coronation to be fun and adequate, the fealty swearing was boring, however. Wilhelmina looked for Caane’s car to find her own, his car was quite recognisable as it was the fattest Rolls Royce in existence due to its heavy armour plating. She walked to her own, not armour-plated Rolls Royce Open Tourer. Batavia had never had a royal or political assassination so the chance, which was clearly relevant in most other car choices, of getting shot was considered irrelevant.

Sitting in the open-top car, Wilhelmina was quite surprised to hear a series of loud thumps come out of the Demesetelian car in front of her. She was worried at first, but the car kept driving like normal. She later found out those thumps were the cannon part of 'Tchaikovsky's 1812 overture'.

---

Demesetelian owned Château
Outskirts of Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

When the cars arrived at the château the children were sent upstairs, while the adults either changed or sat down ready to watch the royal broadcast. The hors d'oeuvres for tonight’s festivities were provided by the renowned chefs the Demesetelians had hired for the weekend, and drinks were made to the Demesetelian taste. Some of the ingredients were very foreign to the party guests, but luckily Caane had managed to fly over Batavian beers for Wilhelmina and her husband Bernhard to drink, much to their delight.

As the people in the room were talking and drinking, all around having a good time, the TV beeped on automatically as it had been preprogrammed to turn on when the princess’ address started. As the princess spoke about increasing freedoms Wilhelmina and Caane exclaimed in agony. “Goddamn liberals.” After the speech ended Wilhelmina and Caane looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“A Beauharnais-Auguste wants to…” Caane snickers, “work closer together with nations that support liberty and equality?”

“No surprises there, her opposition to Kherkov is likely just strategy wrapped in ethics, like most foreign policy.”

“You mean their big business leader’s opposition? Probably don’t want Kherkov stepping on their fat cat feet. I own the fat cats in my country. Working out a lot better for me than ‘equality for all’.”

Asaad, Caane’s Head Advisor, took his chance to speak. “Didn’t she say she wanted to kick the business leaders out of the crown council? That is not going to go over well... I can’t imagine that her father wanted her to do all that.”

Bernhard, being generally quiet, chimed in. ”Maybe she’s attempting to break the businesses power under the guise of democracy? Any real power changes are often also shrouded in vague terms like freedom or safety, depending on the type of power change of course.”

“Or she’s just a young idiot.” Aseed chimes in from the doorway. “Anyway, is anyone interested in some entertainment tonight?” He walks into the room revealing a golden platter filled with little stamps that have Wilhelmina’s face on them. “I know they already have a peppermint brand with your face on them, so Caane here thought you might like LSD with your face on it!”

Bernhard turned around to look at Aseed in shock. ”You can’t be serious!? LSD? We’re the royal house of Batavia!”

“Oh Bernhard where has your sense of adventure gone?” Wilhelmina complains as she grabs a stamp and places it on her tongue. “wive a wittle, I am suwe youw wike it!”

Caane jumped from his seat and grabbed a strip of five stamps. He placed them in his cheek while exclaiming, “Thank Allah! The party can finally start. We will help the Princess with her issues in due time, but for now, Adeel, break out the Pappy!”

After seeing Caane’s excitement Bernhard and the royal pair's children all took one LSD stamp to party, with the exception of Ans, of course; she was watching the underage children as they ran amok through the upper floors of the vast mansion.

---

Grand Ball for the Princess
Day after the coronation
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

As the Batavian entourage arrived at the ball, queen Wilhelmina was begging Bernhard to dance with her, he was still too tired from the trip last night. She decided to dance with her sons instead, who were still full of stamina thanks to their young age. The fact that with little children they were used to being exhausted also helped.

As Wilhelmina started dancing, Bernhard sat down at the bar and ordered a glass of full-bodied shiraz wine. Bernhard, unlike his wife, did have an affinity for the drink ‘only women and homosexuals like’. Bernhard was neither, he had never quite hid his love for the more elitist side of things but it was still uncommon to see the Batavian royals acting like anything but jumped up common folk. That was the image they had crafted for themselves mostly by chance but after seeing how well the population liked it they’d leaned into it.

---

written in collaboration with Demesetelis

[Saint-Auguste]

Grand Ball for the Princess
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Stéphanie had dressed glamorously for the Grand Ball. Her style had not changed in the short time she had been the monarch, still the fashion icon she always was. She still wore a diamond necklace however, this one slightly more modest than the one she wore for the coronation. She wasn't afraid to show off the fact she had multiple diamond necklaces. Whilst greeting guests, she was introduced to the Crown Prince of Kherkov, Adolphus. Stéphanie knew little about Adolphus, only the he was probably even more psychotic than his father. She wasn't surprised at his request for a dance, she knew he would have something to say after what she said during the speech. As much as she didn't want to dance with him, she was curious as to what game he was trying to play, so she accepted.

"Of course." She replied to him.

"I thought this might make for some good headlines." The Crown Prince chuckled to Stéphanie as they danced.

The Princess smiled awkwardly, replying "Indeed," as she attempted to gauge the Kherkovian’s intentions.

"I’m sure this will be outshadowed by that little stunt you pulled after the ceremony, however." The smile had disappeared from Adolphus’s face, along with any joviality in his voice, as the two drifted out of earshot from the guests that were undistracted enough to listen in.

Stéphanie was silent.

"So, tell me – what do you think these little reforms will do for your pitiful nation?" Adolphus resumed, "Bring happiness for your subjects? Or do you have a more selfish reason? Perhaps you believe you are doing the… ‘right thing’?"

"I wouldn't expect you to know the difference between right and wrong. Compared to the freedom my people have, the citizens of Kherkov are prisoners." Stéphanie replied, in flawless English, boasting a Britcani accent.

"The beauty has bite!" Adolphus laughed, but there was no brevity – the mood had taken an altogether more sinister tone, the Princess reasoned. "But don’t presume to give me lectures on virtue." Adolphus continued, "Freedom is no more ‘right’ than order, than strength. These are the virtues that the subjects of Kherkov espouse, and indeed the great House Von Zohlburg, which rules over them with a guiding hand. These are the virtues that make us powerful. These are the virtues that have created a dynasty of one thousand five hundred years." The Crown Prince quickened his step as the music changed tempo.

"Yes yes, my family is also very old." Stéphanie said condescendingly, half chuckling. "You can't even bring yourself to call Kherkovians people, only subjects of your psychotic regime. There's nothing more pitiful than the fate of a child born in Kherkov, indoctrinated to believe the words of your father to be gospel. My heart goes out to each individual living in Kherkov, they would have a much better life here where it's not illegal to think for yourself." Stéphanie felt a sense of relief being able to express her true feelings on Kherkov.

"How heartfelt of you. But you miss the point. Very old indeed – but with what to show for it? A crippled throne? A neutered Crown? Oh, but I suppose there’s at least your precious ‘freedom’." Adolphus changed step yet again. "And yet, you cannot categorically prove that your justice is superior to mine. Your citizens are just as indoctrinated, merely under a different gospel – an individualist one that teaches them to scramble over one another for personal profit. My justice offers order, mere humans brought together to serve a higher, collective purpose, in perfect harmony. My law offers power and strength – yours, division and weakness, doomed to fall to the nations with the iron will needed to rule. Only a fool would say that the latter is true justice." The music began to slow as the two continued dancing. "But I did not approach you to debate jurisprudence with a foreigner, much less a woman. I am here to offer you a warning." Adolphus continued, "You will open pandora’s box with your actions. And you will not like what you see. Tell me, would you levy the same criticism against… Demesetelis? Halleon? Many of your other international partners would side with me in our earlier debate, I wager – even the Batavians toe the line on that front. Follow this path, and you risk the prosperity, the peace… everything your father built for this nation. Is your ‘justice’ worth that?"

"Your attempts to threaten me are laughable. Your father sends his little puppy dog to do his dirty work." Stéphanie laughed as if Adolphus had just told a joke, partly at Adolphus' comments and partly to deter any potential onlookers, then became very serious once again. "Calling on Demesetelis and Halleon to back up your argument? You're weaker than I thought. I personally don't care if the entire world sided with you on political ideology. I will criticise any nation that doesn't offer their citizens basic human rights. You are a fool if you think that your words will have any influence on the domestic policies of Saint-Auguste. The prosperity and peace of Saint-Auguste is a direct result of our liberty and free market. Your reaction to my speech is incredibly out of proportion, you even threaten peace! It seems the mention of Saint-Auguste and Britcan forming closer relations has hit a nerve with the Kherkovian leadership, how predictable."

"That was a warning, not a threat." Adolphus replied stoically. “This is the threat. Pursue this path, and I will gut your energy supply like a fish. Pursue liberalisation, and Kherkov will funnel money into Augustine political campaigns speaking out against your authoritarian international partners, and provide incentives for them to shift their trade. Pursue democracy, and your nation will be left impoverished and in diplomatic isolation." The Crown Prince stopped dancing. "You may not care if the entire Commonwealth hates you, or if your economy suffers as a result of your actions. But your politicians, your businessmen, and your people will. Your liberty and free market are not your shields - they are cracks in the walls. It is not I who threatens the peace. That will come from within. Indeed, this all should have been very predictable to you. And it should have also been clear that it is a ridiculous endeavour. Trade, grounded in diplomatic neutrality, is the lifeblood of this nation. Your ‘justice’ will destroy that… it will lead to division, weakness, and instability."

Stéphanie was silent once again. As the two exited the floor, she replied. "Thanks for the dance."

"Oh, the pleasure was all mine, Your Royal Highness." Adolphus bowed slightly. "But – that reminds me – I have a gift for you."

---

Post written in collaboration with Kherkov.

[Kherkov]

Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

Adolphus turned to face Stéphanie as his assistant returned from outside of the Ball, carrying a large, rectangular box, covered by a piece of red velvet embroidered with the Imperial Coat of Arms in golden thread. The Crown Prince clapped his hands in order to gain the attention of the Princess, nearby guests, and the room at large. “Ladies and gentlemen, Your Royal Highness, I present the Kherkovian coronation gift.” The initial plan for the coronation gift had been to appoint Stéphanie as an Honorary Dame of the Kherkovian Order of the Guiding Hand, which was standard practice for foreign leaders of nations not fully aligned with Kherkov. Indeed, this had been granted to Eugène by Prukov – Kherkov’s predecessor state - following his coronation, as well as King Matthew II of Britcan and various other non-Krepost leaders across the Commonwealth. However, following Adolphus’s phone call a day prior, this had been postponed, and a new gift flown in.

Throwing off the velvet veil, Adolphus revealed a mahogany display case, inside of which sat a sword and its sheath, resting atop what appeared to be a historical Prukovian regimental standard, neatly folded and packed into the case. “To emphasise our common historical endeavours in fighting the evils of sedition and Godlessness, I present the sword of Duke Karl Ludwig von Rücke, commander of the Imperial forces sent to aid Prince Pierre in the late 1700s.” Opening the case, Adolphus took out the sword, unsheathing it and pointing it to the ceiling as he examined it. “As sharp as ever! Think of how much rebellious Augustine blood this sword has spilled! Truly, it is wonderful that such a historical artefact is still of such potency. Just as capable of cleaving flesh as it ever was.” He lowered the sword, pointing it at the various Augustines in the room. “Do I have any volunteers to test that theory?” Adolphus guffawed and chuckled as he toured the room, seemingly joking about and pointing the sword. Placing it back in the case, he motioned for his assistant to take the case over to the Princess. As it reached her, the Crown Prince gave a bow. “May it imbue you with the strength you need to do the… right thing… in your rule.”

As the Kherkovians in the room applauded Adolphus’s speech, the Crown Prince took a glass of champagne from one of the attendants dotted around the room. Retiring to the balcony for a cigarette, he subtly shot one last glance towards Stéphanie - winking as his lighter’s flame illuminated his face - before disappearing out of view onto the dark balcony.

[Sanguinem Sanctorum]

Grand Ball for the Princess
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Having finished chuckling at Adolphus’ speech, His Divine Excellency Tarquinius peeled himself away from the crowd and wended his way over towards the Kherkovian Crown Prince, Adolphus, who was still on the dark balcony, his face illuminated rhythmically by the cigarette hanging from his lip. Puffing merrily on a large cigar and, offering one to the Prince before introducing himself, he greeted him warmly,

"Your Imperial Highness, a pleasure to meet you at last. I have long admired your nation, and I believe my father met yours several years ago. And well done with the speech, about time someone checked the bloody Saint Augustine government, told them that actions have consequences; spouting all that nonsense about freedom, liberty. It’s good to know some governments realise the threat she poses. I’d wager that dance you had with her wasn’t as friendly as she tried so hard to make it seem! I did have to laugh at the sight, seeing a Kherkovian waltzing with a Saint Augustine Princess was like watching me dance with the devil!” he chuckled,

“Alas, I wish I was here only for pleasure, however I have heard several things about your Belt and Network initiative; it could be beneficial to us both, and I’m sure it wouldn’t hurt you having a friend in Aurelia, keeping an eye on those godless heathens the Jordistanis...”

[Britcan]

The Coronation
Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

While the language of the proceedings was foreign to the King, the ceremony and the occasion felt very familiar to him. He recalled his coronation nearly three decades prior, he’d been a similar age to Stéphanie then and knew what she must be feeling: the sense of immense pride paired with the weight of responsibility that came from such a pledge to serve one’s country. He was particularly moved by the pledge of fealty from Dimitri, the act bringing back memories of his dearly departed wife. He made a mental note to seek Dimitri out at the Grand Ball the next day.

As the coronation procession exited the Cathedral King Matthew II and Princess Sophie stood up from their pews, politely ignoring the embarrassed Demesetelian delegate profusely apologising to one of the guards. Instead of heading towards the exit along with the other delegations, where they knew that there would undoubtedly be a massive crowd, they instead moved towards the apse of the Cathedral where many of the Saint-Augustines who’d been involved in the ceremony were milling about. As the great building slowly emptied the King, with Sophie acting as an interpreter when necessary, conversed with them.

---

Britcani Ministry of Foreign Affairs
Lontwa
Britcan
During Princess Stéphanie’s address

The Foreign Minister watched Princess Stéphanie’s speech on the television, translated subtitles appearing at the bottom of the screen on a slight delay. It had long been the hope that her ascension to the throne would be marked by a favourable shift in the diplomatic posture of Saint-Auguste so this maiden speech was of great interest. A small group consisting of her aides, a couple of junior ministers, and a few senior department staff joined the Foreign Minister at the room. On the table in front of them were a collection of documents: trade projections for various scenarios, diplomatic communiqués, and generation capacity estimates from LAMBDA.

The initial signals from Stéphanie were positive. It was rare for the other nations of the Commonwealth Society to speak in terms such as “liberty”, “justice” or “freedom” and rarer still for such words to be used with any modicum of sincerity. As the assembled audience heard the word “Britcan” spoken every ear in the room perked up and every eye became fixed upon the screen. Had an observant person been watching the small crowd in that moment they would have been able to identify with flawless accuracy who among the group spoke French, such was the shift in their expressions as the reminder of the sentence was spoken. After a few seconds that seemed to last much longer than they had any right to, the translation of Stéphanie’s words appeared to the screen: “From Britcan to the SBD, as a nation we must strengthen our ties to our closest friends.” No one in the room said anything, but they all knew what this meant.

Princess Stéphanie’s remarks had been even more positive than they’d hoped, explicitly naming Britcan. As the speech turned towards matters of domestic policy, the Foreign Minister turned to face the assembled group.

“I think we can call that a win, don’t you?” She asked rhetorically with a slight smile. “We best get our ambassador on the phone; congratulations are surely in order.”

---

Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

King Matthew II and Princess stepped out of the car, both giving a polite “Merci beaucoup!” to the driver. The King was dressed in traditional white-tie attire, complete with medals upon his left breast and a sash crossing his body diagonally. Sophie was likewise dressed appropriately for the formal occasion, pairing a classy floor-length gown with a light shawl.

Upon entering the ballroom, the pair greeted Princess Stéphanie. “Your Royal Highness, thank you for hosting us.” Said the King, smiling warmly. “I’m sure everyone will be hoping to have your attention this evening, but if you were able to spare me a few minutes I would be greatly honoured. Though I should perhaps apologise in advance for my inelegance on the dance floor.” Once pleasantries had been exchanged Sophie curtsied deferentially to the Princess and the King bowed his head slightly in recognition of the fact that, while they were of equal status, he was a guest in her nation. The pair then proceeded into the ballroom.

. . .

Some time later Sophie found herself hearing the words “Euthyphro’s dilemma”. Her father had somehow managed to find two English-speaking archbishops and a professor emeritus with whom he was now eagerly discussing Theology... or was it Philosophy? In any case her glass was now looking rather dry. She politely excused herself and made a beeline for the bar, arriving just in time to overhear a Demesetelian accent complaining about the selection of whiskies on offer. Taking a spot at the bar that had been vacated by a rather inebriated member of the Sanguinem delegation, Princess Sophie looked at her surroundings. She recognised Bernhard of Batavië sitting a bit further down the bar, holding a glass of wine and looking rather tired.

Sophie was about to order a drink when she noticed Crown Prince Adolphus dancing with Princess Stéphanie. She’d never liked Adolphus. Despite the Prince’s his ostensibly noble bearing he’d always reminded her of a scorpion, yet somehow less charming. Though, in fairness to scorpions, they likely wouldn’t have decided to grow those ridiculous sideburns. The Princess momentarily considered trying to listen in to their conversation, perhaps by grabbing one of Saint-Augustine men who’d been eyeing her up since her arrival and asking them to dance. She quickly rejected this notion however, knowing it would be both obvious and likely ineffective, and turned back towards the bar to order a drink. Stéphanie could sure handle herself.

As Sophie's drink arrived Crown Prince Adolphus began his presentation, prancing round the room and waving the sword about like a second-rate Shakespearean. She exchanged glances with a couple of the other guests who seemed equally unimpressed by the interruption. As the performance ended, Adolphus making his veiled threat, Sophie took a sip of her drink. It seemed to her that the Crown Prince had rather overplayed his hand. In an event full of the great and the good of Saint-Augustine society he’d hijacked a celebratory event for their newly coronated monarch, pointed a sword at them while reminiscing about killing their ancestors, and finally made a thinly-veiled threat. While such thuggery may be accepted in Kherkov, Sophie guessed that the people of Saint-Auguste would take a dimmer view.

[Viperia]

Viperian Acommodation
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
After the Coronation

"Being inside a church for that long is surely bad for one's health!" Sergei exclaimed, collapsing into a chair by the window of the rented room "At the very least that pew did a number on my back!"

"I'm surprised you didn't burst into flames the second you stepped inside" Ekaterina joined Sergei by the window but remained standing, looking out over the Saint-Augustine landscape

"Ha! I'll take that as a compliment" Sergei smiled "It certainly would have made the ceremony a little more exciting!"

While it had not been exceptionally long, the atheist and republican Sergei had felt that the heavily royal and religious ceremony somewhat dragged on. Luckily there were more exciting and important things on the agenda for this visit. The Princess' Grand Ball promised to be a wildly extravagant affair that was not to be missed and would not soon be forgotten. It was only this promise that had allowed Sergei to make it through the day. That and Ekaterina prodding him systematically to ensure he paid attention. While they discussed the ceremony and prepared for the evening, the television in the room began broadcasting the Princess' address. When the broadcast had finished, Sergei spoke sarcastically:

"Well I wonder who she could have been referring to? This ought to make your job somewhat more interesting, eh Katya?" he chuckled

"It is true that with the Princess at the helm, relations between our two nations may become somewhat more strained. I have, however, worked hard over the years to cultivate good relationships with many officials in the Saint-Augustine government so perhaps there may be hope yet. To that end, we should see tonight as an opportunity"

"I agree! What better opportunity to inform these capitalist, degenerates, that if they think that they are too good for Viperian trade then we will be more than happy to take our business elsewhere!"

Ekaterina groaned.

---

Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

By the time Ekaterina and Sergei arrived at the ballroom, the celebration was already in full swing. It was truly a sight to behold with food, drink and guests from all corners of the world. After one last plea to Sergei to not make matters worse, Ekaterina left to speak with some Saint-Augustine officials she had spotted deeper in the room. While he did not care for them, as Viperian Representative to the Commonwealth Society Assembly Sergei was used to dealing with more than his fair share of foreigners. Thus he was able to converse with most of the gathered dignitaries and officials without too much hassle. There were few people in attendance who he cared to truly engage with. He noticed one of those people as he seemed to have drawn the attention of every eye in the room. The Crown Prince of Kherkov was dancing intensely with the Saint-Augustine Princess in what could only be described as a passionate affair. After what seemed like an eternity, they separated. However, the spectacle only continued when the Crown Prince presented the Princess' with the gift of a sword, not without first brandishing it around the room. Though shocked at first, the guests soon returned to their jovial selves. The Crown Prince stepped outside and Sergei saw an opportunity to discuss the Princess' earlier address with one of the only like minded people in attendance. As he stepped onto the balcony he saw Adolphus in conversation with a man he recognised as Sanguinem Sanctorumian.

"If a godless heathen might interrupt..." Sergei said loudly "There is a matter I wish to discuss with the Crown Prince"

[Halleon]

The Augustine Sea
Imperial Naval Base
Vieux Fort,Saint-Auguste
One Week before the Coronation

Being dispatched by his father, the Emperor Hallicus I, his eldest son Marcus had arrived a week early before the coronation of Princess Stéphanie to manage and oversee the naval war games being conducted in the area. These joint Halleon and Augustine naval games had been canceled due to the Cimmerian Conflict but were now being held to boost relations between the two powers. Despite being the Chancellor of the Senate, Marcus was often forced to deal with oversea matters when it came to foreign leaders and events, as his father rarely if ever
traveled outside of the Imperium.

The Coronation
Saint Auguste's Cathedral
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The Imperial Delegation rode in armored limousines as they traveled to the Cathedral to witness the coronation of Princess Stéphanie. Marcus ignored the events taking place outside of the limousine as he focused on the intelligence reports that had been gathered on Stephanie and her entire family, the reports were covered with both useful and worthless information. However Marcus had learned after dealing with the Imperial Senate for years that it was better to know every aspect of a person before dealing with them and his father had stressed the importance of these events currently taking place.

Once the armored limousine came to a stop and his door was opened, Marcus stepped out to greet the crowds watching with an confident and charming smile as he waved to the people before entering the Cathedral. After what seemed an eternity the coronation was finally over and the real political games could begin.

The Coronation After Party
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste


Thomas Buren had to admit that the Chancellor had a way with words as he listened to the man speak perfect French to the notable Augustine men and women that had gathered around him. It was easy for Thomas's trained eye to spot that several of them were important business and finance figures, it was obvious to him that Marcus was being sly with the way he was trying to judge the mood of the people that the Princess had most likely alienated with her speech.

The attention of Marcus shifted to focus on the situation taking place as Adolphus presented Stéphanie with what appeared to be a sword and hiding his amusement with the words, "Excuse me gentlemen and ladies, I have to speak with my friend here about some matters before my attention is occupied by what is taking place over there." Speaking the words in French and with a charming smile as he motioned Thomas to follow him away from the crowds to a lightly packed area of the room.

Thomas spoke first, "I believe it would be best, if I may propose something Chancellor?"

Chucking as he responded, "There's no need, Thomas to even speak the words you feel the need to state." Accepting a drink from his personal aide as he continued speaking," I will speak with Stéphanie, when the right moment arises, for it is obvious that Adolphus has at the very least made the woman upset. That speech of hers does have me curious to what she intends to carry out."

Shifting his attention to the party he motioned for Thomas to follow him as he stated," Let the games begin."

[Saint-Auguste]

Grand Ball for the Princess
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Stéphanie felt a bit uneasy whilst the mad Crown Prince of Kherkov waved the sword around at her party, but this only confirmed to her that he was indeed completely insane and socially inept. Stéphanie enjoyed the history of her family, and was proud of the success in stopping the republican rebellion that tried to overthrow her ancestor Prince Pierre II in the 18th century. Despite this, being reminded of the bloodshed that plagued her country during that time was an unpleasant thought. She accepted the gift gracefully with a smile, as if she was in on the joke. She thought carefully about Adolphus' words as she greeted King Matthew II of Britcan. Stéphanie had long hated buying energy from Kherkov, as had much of the liberal Saint-Augustine population, and wanted to see a greener future for Saint-Auguste. But the mention of Kherkov stopping this trade still worried Stéphanie, she knew she had to find a new source of energy while Saint-Auguste slowly built up its renewable energy farms, otherwise there would be an energy crisis nationwide. Stéphanie hoped that it wouldn't come to that.

"Welcome, welcome, Your Royal Highness, I'm delighted to meet you." Stéphanie's delight was genuine as she welcomed the Britcani King and his daughter Princess Sophie, a welcome change of company.

"Yes, of course." Stéphanie accepted the King's invitation to have a conversation.

"I really enjoyed your coronation, a wonderful occasion. But most of all, I was happy to hear of your ambitions to create closer ties between our two nations in your speech. It is long overdue." said Matthew.

"I'm glad you agree. Saint-Auguste and Britcan are natural allies, and it only makes sense to formalise our partnership." Stéphanie said with excitement. Stéphanie continued in a more serious tone. "I must tell you something in confidence. The Crown Prince of Kherkov has threatened to cut off the energy supply to Saint-Auguste, I have long hated this energy trade with Kherkov and wish to seek alternative sources of energy. I know that LAMBDA currently produces a surplus, and has spare capacity."

The King smiled. Stéphanie had done her research, she’d clearly taken her transition to sovereign in her stride. "So you get energy without Kherkovian strings attached and my government can turn a loss-making project into something worthwhile? I’m sure such a proposal would be viewed as very agreeable."

"Exactly. I would be most interested in setting up an energy deal with Britcan, but I’d like to go even further. A free trade deal, in fact. To open our markets completely." Stéphanie knew this was a big offer, but she also knew that the Britcanis would have to accept. They wanted her nation to be outside the Kherkovian sphere of influence just as much as she did.

"It is of course not in my gift to negotiate such trade deals myself." Said the King with a smile. "But, I am of course informed of what ministers of the crown think and I believe such an offer would be received most graciously. If you would permit me, I could inform the relevant minister of it and ask if they would draw up the relevant provisions?"

"The minister of state and I would be most enthusiastic to sign such paper work!" Stéphanie felt a sense of pride knowing this would be a huge accomplishment early in her reign.

...

It was a long evening for Stéphanie, and as much as she wanted to have long conversations with everyone, it was impossible. But she definitely wanted to make time to meet and talk with the leaders of Batavie and Demesetelis, the two other nations that make up the SBD, to solidify their friendship and cooperation. Stéphanie felt she had made enough enemies already. Stéphanie introduced herself to each leader and asked to speak with them both together...

---

Post written in collaboration with Britcan.

[Demesetelis]

Grand Ball for the Princess
Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Adolphus's speech captured the attention of most everyone in the room, Caleb included. The somewhat threatening speech was pretty typical for a Kherkovian, but once he started prancing around the room flourishing the large sword, Caleb's training kicked in. His hand reflexively reached for his shoulder holster, but it did not find the familiar heft of his Sig Sauer P320, of course, since guns were not allowed into the building. Still, he was not too worried, since he had a blade tucked away in his sock. He did not truly think any violence would occur tonight, but as the Rains of Castamere played in his head he looked around the room for Caane, just in case.

Caane was stood near a catering table, half-eaten crabcake forgotten in his hand. He had listened closely to the Crown Prince's speech, and was not at all worried when Adolphus showed off his gift to the room. The threatening nature of the gift was not lost on him, and his mind was turning with different possibilities. Stephanie seemed to take the whole display in stride, which comforted him. If the monarch became flustered over this type of thing she might not be the best ally for Demesetelis. Caane is known for his antics, and was already making plans to integrate a similar display into his political repertoire. Once the party resumed, he caught Wilhelmina's eyes across the room, and made his way over to speak with her.

"What a fun party this is! I thought it would be a snoozefest for sure, but things got interesting quick!"

"Absolutely" Wilhelmina replied. "We don't have parties like this in Batavia that's for sure."

"No maniacs waving weapons around, either" Quiped Bernhard.

"Haha, what a power move! I'll have to use that one next time I'm meeting with the aboriginal governor of Banoi. A gift and a threat all wrapped up in one nice package."

"Banoi?" Asked Wilhelmina "Which one is that?"

"The middle island of my three territories. They have given me the most trouble out of the others, very headstrong. Nothing I can't handle though! My father integrated them back in '94, the location was perfect to shore up our shipping lanes, in fact..."

While Caane described in detail how Bilal Demesetelis broke the island's resistance with just one platoon of men, Princess Stephanie approached the group.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but I was hoping we could discuss the SBD? I'm sure we have a lot to talk about! My father was quite fond of our close relationships, and I hope to keep it that way."

"Of course Stephanie, although we shouldn't talk in such an open setting" Said Caane while looking around the room suspiciously. "I have a suite on the ninth floor, we could talk there?"

"Fine by me. Bernhard, I'll meet back up with you later." Replied Wilhelmina, leaving him with a kiss.

[Kherkov]

Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

Admittedly, Adolphus’s interactions with any Sanguines in the past had been limited. In fact, he struggled to remember if he had even actually had any at all, and so it was quite amusing that today of all days he was meeting the leader of the Sanguine Order. Pleased to hear Tarquinius had found his flourish entertaining, Adolphus smiled as the man made his introductions. The fact that the sabre-rattling was having its intended effect already was surely a good sign, thought the Crown Prince, as he responded to Tarquinius.

“Very glad to hear it, Your Divine Excellency! I thought it was quite amusing. It is encouraging to hear other leaders at this Godforsaken event are concerned at the spread of weakness across our region.” Adolphus took a drag on his cigarette before continuing. “Indeed, the Sanguine Order and Kherkovian Volksreich are natural partners. We would be more than willing to welcome you into the Belt and Network Initiative to facilitate trade between our nations. Why, might I even suggest your entry into the Krepost Pact – as an observer state, to start – if you are concerned about heathen influence. I would have to speak to Torgov, but I’m sure the arrangements could be made.”

As Adolphus finished, Tarkhanov appeared on the balcony. “Speak of the devil!” Adolphus laughed, slapping the Viperian on the back jovially before offering him a cigarette. “Please do excuse me, Your Divine Excellency. Let me chat to Sergei here, and then we can all get back to our previous discussion. Don’t worry – I promise to bring you back a glass of port!” Adolphus chuckled as he stepped inside to join Tarkhanov privately.

“I suppose you wanted to discuss that woman’s speech.” Adolphus said, the smile having disappeared from his face as the two reached a secluded area.

[Viperia]

Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

Once they were out of earshot, Sergei began "Indeed. I think we always knew she would be a thorn in our sides but I doubt any of us expected it quite this early. Mere hours after she seized control! I can't say my government has ever seen eye to eye with the Saint-Augustine regime but at least her father was easier to work with. The man only cared about one thing, money. If it was in Saint-Auguste's best interest, he was buying what you were selling, no questions asked"

“It’s the absolute gall of it that strikes me, I must admit. Capitalists are workable partners. Their lack of principle, of will, makes them that way – show a pig a trough, and it will eat. Eugène was the perfect example. He had the good sense not to bite the hand that fed him.” Adolphus took a drink of his champagne before continuing. “But these types… liberals, individualists… absolutely insufferable, Sergei. They won’t even entertain the idea of national will, a people acting with one mind. And yet, by any metric, it is the Banded Concordat that wins the day! I can’t fathom how you do it, Sergei – day in, day out, in that hive of fools!”

"You don't know the half of it! As for what this will mean going forward, it's no secret that Stephanie is far more liberal than her father, and keen to show this to not only her people but to the world. It would make sense, then, that she would seek to strengthen ties with Britcan. I am a little surprised, however, that she would actually threaten to cut ties with nations such as yourself. While it may help her 'harmony and diversity' angle doesn't she know who keeps the lights on!" Sergei chuckled and slapped Adolphus on the arm. "I worry that if she is not all talk, other nations may be encouraged to follow suit and we may see greater opposition to some of our actions further down the line"

Adolphus chuckled. “Well, as you mentioned before, it’s certainly not like we didn’t see it coming. Father certainly wasn’t surprised. And, while not integral to Kherkovian business interests, the pivot is concerning, if anything. In a socio-political sense, the Augustines have always lied with Britcan, and the economic link is what kept them in line. But we have shown these frogs the carrot for far too long. It’s time to show them the stick.” The Crown Prince paused, glancing over to the sword he had gifted to Stéphanie. “In the meantime, we can turn this into an opportunity for us. All this talk of liberalisation is likely just a façade for a strategical pivot to Britcan, and the cutting off of trade ties to Kherkov. But I’m sure it has made their… less liberal partners jittery, at least. Instead of thinking about those who might follow this example, why not focus on those who might side with us? Halleon, Demesetelis… with a spot of luck, they might be shaken enough to be persuadable, especially with all this alcohol lying around.”

Thinking over what he had said, Sergei replied "An excellent point! I see you're as sharp as always, Adolphus! Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. There are many nations in the world with values similar to ours and I'm sure, as you say, that even some Saint-Auguste's closer allies aren't quite as squeaky clean as they may seem. If Stephanie wants to shoot herself in the foot by refusing to trade with half the world then so be it. We can become a shining beacon of light for the jilted masses!"

Adolphus smiled, and nodded. “Exactly so, comrade. My sabre-rattling wasn’t just for fun, you see. It needs to be the Krepost Pact that takes a stand for sovereignty and order in this blasted place. We must show the nations of the Commonwealth that it will be us, not the Britcanis, nor the Augustines, that recognise the need for strength and order in government! And, if nothing else, we must keep the delegates at the Assembly bickering. We need to create more work for you!” Adolphus joked. “Either the world backs us, or it is too busy bickering to oppose us. This is the situation we need.” Adolphus paused again to drink from his glass.

"Agreed. I've no doubt we will be able to find a way to turn this situation to our advantage and come out on top as we always have. I'm sure it will be no trouble to keep the bumbling fools at the Assembly bickering, they do well enough without my help!" he laughed "This is an oddly calculated and level headed response on your part, Adolphus, you're beginning to sound more like your father. What happened to the drunkard from two nights ago!"

Adolphus grinned. “At any rate, the sabre trick seems to have worked - the Sanguine leader awaits us on the balcony. Shall we begin there?”

"Ah yes, I quite enjoyed that little show, the dance too. That was more like you!" he slapped Adolphus' arm again "Let's, while you know I'm not one for god botherers, if I've been able to stand up to you and your ilk for this long I think I can hold out a little longer!"

"I'll be praying for your eternal soul later, Tarkhanov!" The Crown Prince said, laughing as he started to walk. “Oh, but before that… a toast.” Adolphus raised his glass. “Krepost prevails.”

"Krepost prevails!" he raised his glass and the two drank before making their way to the Sanguine leader.

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Post written in collaboration with Kherkov.

[Saint-Auguste]

9th Floor Suite, Hotel de Paris
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

Princess Stéphanie, Queen Wilhelmina, and the Sultan of Demesetelis all took the lift together to the 9th floor of the hotel, Stéphanie was a little relieved to have a break away from the party in the Sultan's suite where the three monarchs could have a private conversation. Stéphanie knew that they may have mixed feelings about her speech.

"I'm so glad to have you both here, our partnership together is one I hold dearly and I wish to continue our close bond into the future. I want to assure you both that my comments regarding strengthening our ties to our closest friends very much had the SBD in mind, and the change I seek is to cease purchasing energy from Kherkov. I have a greener vision for the future of Saint-Auguste, and I hope to work with you both to have a greener future for the SBD as a whole. All in all, we must stick together, together we are stronger." Stéphanie preached, as if she was talking from the heart, she was a bit tipsy as this point from all the champagne.

"Oh you young people and your green energy. I remember when my grandmother started building nuclear so we wouldn't be dependent on coal mining. Well I can tell you uranium is definitely green!" she winks profusely "Now there's all this solar, wind and hydro stuff. We have a minister who does that for us now, much easier. Anyway, if you ever need help building nuclear reactors just call me, we have decades of experience." replied Wilhelmina.

"I will cheers to that! Wilhelmina, I would be most grateful to receive any advice on matters of nuclear reactors from the experts in Batavie. I will be seeking to purchase energy from Britcan in the immediate future, and to continue building our renewable energy farms. However, building nuclear reactors could be a very good option to consider." Stéphanie said with enthusiasm.

"Yes, and if you need the Plutonium you have my number" replied Caane with a sly look.

"Demesetelis would love to expand our current trade-routes, we are a growing people! More wallets ready to buy fine Saint-Augustine goods. And for power, well, I have plenty of open searing desert to install solar. You supply the investment, we build them and send the power to you, with our small cut removed, of course." Caane left Stéphanie with his most charming smile and walked towards his suitcase on the couch. "I brought a little something, something for you, ladies. Wilhelmina, you'll remember this one from yesterday."

"Oh god, not the LSD. Caane I still have a headache from last night." replied Wilhelmina with a shake of her head.

"Ahh, LSD?" inquired Stéphanie, "I've had my time with them before. Designers love the stuff. Not as much as cocaine though! But LSD is perfectly legal here, so no need to be hush hush about it!"

"Stéphanie is in! Come on Wilhelmina, we had such fun last night. Another round wont kill ya!"

"Oh Caane, always getting me into trouble. Fine!" Wilhelmina grabbed a stamp from Caane, and gently placed it under her tongue.

"Yes!" Caane showed his excitement by performing a little dance around couch. "Time to live a little, here ya go, Stéphanie."

"They have her face on them?" exclaimed Stephanie with a hearty laugh.

"Of course! I had my head of personal drug use make them up last week. Sorry I didn't bring any with your face on them, I didn't know you partook!"

"I'm sure they'll have some interesting ones in Anse La Raye for my coronation, and possibly a weed strain named after me, they're crazy up there, you'd love it!" Stéphanie exclaimed, popping the stamp in her mouth.

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Morning After the Grand Ball
Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste

The rest of the evening was a bit of a blur for Stéphanie, but she remembered the incredible feeling of bliss, and thinking that she had a family of leopards as pets. Stéphanie awoke with a pounding headache, having forgot to drink any water before sleeping. The champagne had taken its toll, as did the LSD. She was flying back to Les Trois-Îlets later in the afternoon so she had little time to recover but she wanted take a stroll around the luxury boutiques of Ville du Saint, she thought, almost forgetting that she is now the leader of the country. Shopping is something which she would have done on a normal day as the Dauphin of Auguste, she would be recognised all the time but now as the reigning monarch she had to think twice before going into public.

She got herself ready for a stroll to get some fresh air with her husband, little Jean-Luc was with Stéphanie's mother for the whole evening. To her surprise there wasn't much paparazzi around, presumably they didn't think Stéphanie would be causally strolling around the cobblestone streets of Ville du Saint the morning after her coronation party. It almost felt like nothing had changed, a small break from everything, she was stopped by many members of the public asking for selfies, but that was normal.

Stéphanie was able to clear her head. The road ahead would come with all kinds of challenges, but she felt ready now, she had already made so much impact within days of being coronated. She knew she had the power to make real change. Later in the day it was time to head back to the palace, she had lots of work to do. Dressed incredibly causally, smoking a roll-up, just like her father, she arrived at the airport with her family. The no-so green private jet took them back to the capital, Stéphanie had always lived the high life and there were no signs of that stopping.

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[Kherkov]

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Hotel de Paris

Ville du Saint, Sawyer
Saint-Auguste
Day after the Coronation

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As the Viperian and Kherkovian headed back to the balcony, Adolphus swiped a glass of port from one of the attendants around the ballroom. Lighting up a cigarette as he strode onto the balcony, he spied Tarquinius in conversation with one of the female guests, whom the Sanguiner motioned away as he noticed the Crown Prince and Tarkhanov approaching. On the balcony, it was rather quieter than in the ballroom, save for the faint buzz of the party from inside merging with the sounds of Ville du Saint at night.

“Apologies, Your Divine Excellency. As promised, a glass of port!” Adolphus chuckled as he offered the glass to the Sanguiner.

“Thank you, Crown Prince.” Tarquinius raised his glass after accepting it, and the three men toasted before drinking. “Now, shall we talk business first?”

“Indeed, the Belt and Network…” Adolphus paused to smoke his cigarette. “That certainly won’t be a problem. I’ll instruct the boys from the Treasury and Exterior to get in touch. Trade can only benefit us both. It is only natural for our nations to increase relations, and act as partners on the international stage... especially if this trend is going to continue.”

“My thoughts exactly, Your Imperial Highness.” Tarquinius nodded in agreement.

“As for your position in Aurelia, indeed, Kherkov has long wished for a presence on the continent, in order to protect our allies, comrades, and partners.” Adolphus flicked the butt of his cigarette off the edge of the balcony before continuing. “As I am sure you know, Your Divine Excellency, the Krepost Pact consists of the greatest military powers in the Commonwealth. Alignment with Krepost guarantees not only mere survival, but great strength. And, of course, a nation such as yours would be a most welcome addition to our list of partners.” As the Crown Prince finished, Tarkhanov, who was standing beside him, nodded and smiled enthusiastically in agreement.

“An enticing prospect indeed!” Tarquinius chuckled as he drank his port. “So, what exactly do you propose?”

“For now, we can offer you the position of Krepost Observer. While a non-voting position, you will be written in on our movements, activities, and propositions. Taking up such an offer would also signal the Sanguine Order’s commitment to the furtherance of relations. Krepost stands with its true friends, and thus will repay in kind. As an Observer, the Pact would be more than willing to invest in military bases in your lands, to aid the defence of your nation and provide a strong deterrent to any potential invaders. Ultimately, this could be a route to full membership of the Pact if you so wish. If this all sounds appealing, I can have the chaps from the Exterior arrange the details.”

“A most generous offer, and I am sure that Kherkov is set to gain as much as I from this exchange.” Tarquinius warmly held out his hand for Adolphus to shake, while slyly looking for a glint of ulterior motive in the large Kherkovian's eyes. “I believe this is the beginning of a most fruitful partnership.”

“Indeed so, Your Divine Excellency.” Adolphus shook the Sanguiner’s hand with vigour. “A toast, gentlemen! Krepost prevails!”

The other two men joined Adolphus in his toast, crying “Krepost prevails!” together before drinking. As they began to make their way inside, the Kherkovian began again.

“Speaking of new and fruitful partnerships, there is one nation in attendance that I have not yet been able to interact with.” Re-entering the ballroom, Adolphus scanned the room, spying a man in a pinstripe suit. “Volltreffer. I know a Halleonian when I see one.” He turned to Tarquinus and Sergei. “Halleon must be at least slightly concerned with that frog woman’s words. I believe it might be prudent for us all to speak to their representative – to at least garner a sense of where they stand. It looks like the party is coming to an end, so hopefully we can retreat to talk business.”

Striding across the hall, Adolphus’s large frame was quite the presence, especially when combined with his beaming, cheek-to-cheek grin. The Crown Prince knew that Halleon had made some diplomatic overtures to Kherkov during the Cimmerian Crisis, and so he was keen to see where the Imperium stood.

As the Crown Prince’s assistant, Bofer Diese, quickly hurried to state the titles of Adolphus and the other two men as the party reached the Halleonians, the Kherkovian’s grin widened even further as he introduced himself.

“Chancellor Hallicus, a pleasure to meet you. A damned shame that we haven’t met before this night, I must say! I have been thinking that it would be useful for us all to have a discussion together, perhaps somewhere slightly more private than here. Don’t you agree?”

Regardless of the Halleonian response, the others were heading to the Kherkovian accommodation for an after-party. While Kherkov was losing Saint-Auguste, in turn, it was gaining new partners. Hopefully Father will be pleased, the Crown Prince thought to himself. Before leaving, he scanned the room. Stéphanie was nowhere to be found, however he did notice the Britcani delegation in the crowd. Among them was their King. As their monarch, he was the embodiment of the Britcani spirit – and so quite understandably he gave off the aura of a particularly meek sheep. Adolphus was sure that Stéphanie had gone to the Britcanis in order to replace the energy supply – they were the most logical alternative. But it would take time to transition the Augustine economy, and the Crown Prince was doubtful they could match Kherkovian prices. Either way, his threat was a real one. As he exited the building, he smiled - partly for the cameras, and partly out of excitement: he couldn’t wait to show that backstabbing frog what for.

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Post written with permission from Sanguinem Sanctorum and Viperia.