The Knife Edge

[Pantocratoria]

Council House
New Jerusalem

The New Jerusalem Council of Ministers was the Exarchate of New Jerusalem’s single chamber legislature, by which the Exarchate’s provincial government was formed. For the last eight years, it had sat in a temporary home in a hotel convention centre, while its crumbling 17th century Council House had undergone urgent renovations and repairs. Now ready to be reopened, restored to better condition than it had been for centuries and refitted with all the modern amenities which could be installed without changing the historic character of the structure, the pale stonework of Council House nearly sparkled in the sun, the first time it had been close to its original colour since the Industrial Revolution. The hundred ministers (the Council’s members), their guests, and members of the press were gathered in seats in the courtyard in front of Council House in the pleasant late-Spring weather.

Out of view in the gardens, the official party which would soon open the Council House readied itself while staff fussed about and minded the time. The Eparchos, the head of the provincial government, Petros Jihep, the Council Minority Leader, Philip Markos, and the elderly Exarch of New Jerusalem, Augustulus Comnenus, were joined by the Imperial Chancellor, the nearly as elderly Sir Isaac Comnenus, and the Leader of the Opposition, the comparatively young Agnes Pagonis, as representatives of the national government. They had just been briefed where the cameras would be, and were told to be ready to start down the red carpet towards the stage on a signal which would shortly be forthcoming.

“You look lovely today, madame.” Sir Isaac told the Opposition Leader, in an almost grandfatherly tone. He spoke French, although everyone in the group was bi-lingual and today’s proceedings would be in Greek.

“Thank you, Chancellor.” Pagonis replied as graciously as she could. She always found the way the Chancellor talked to her in private (well, away from journalists at least) strangely unsettling with its banal pleasantries. She tried to make it businesslike at least. “So, Philip mentioned to me that they originally wanted to have all the local and national party leaders in the opening ceremony, but that when your office told him that by protocol only the Imperial Chancellor and Leader of the Opposition should attend, they had to cut things down to just the Eparchos and the Minority Leader on the local side.”

“Protocol.” Sir Isaac shrugged.

“And it means Prince Constantine couldn’t attend.” Pagonis said, smiling wryly.

Sir Isaac Comnenus looked down at Pagonis for a long second or two before gradually breaking into a wry smile of his own, which spread across a face wrinkled by decades of scowling more than smiling.

“Clever girl.” the Imperial Chancellor said, turning forward again.

Pagonis allowed herself a bemused chuckle. In truth, the polled popularity of Prince Constantine and the Christian Democrats as an alternative to both Sir Isaac’s United Christian Front and her Socialist Alliance made the prince nearly as politically harmful to her as to the Imperial Chancellor. Although she and the Chancellor were political adversaries, they still had a mutual enemy.

“You shouldn’t call me that.” Pagonis chided lightly.

“What, clever?” Sir Isaac replied. “I shan’t do it on the campaign trail, don’t worry.”

“No…” Pagonis started but was interrupted by the event management staff giving the signal that the official party was to make its entrance.

“I’m an old man, indulge me.” Sir Isaac said just above a whisper as they started moving, ever so slowly at the pace set by the ancient Exarch.

“Will you say that on the campaign trail?” Pagonis asked him, quietly.

“Perhaps it will be the slogan.” Sir Isaac responded.

“I know better than to ask when the election will be.” Pagonis whispered back as they turned around a garden hedge towards the waiting guests.

Soon enough. Sir Isaac thought, not wanting to continue the private conversation in front of an audience.

When the official party reached the Council House steps, a soldier in dress uniform came forward to the side of the Exarch of New Jerusalem. The soldier helped the doddering old man up the steps with the rest of the official party on his heels.

At least I can still walk unaided. Sir Isaac thought to himself, looking to the Exarch. His gaze passed from him back to Agnes Pagonis by his side. The Opposition Leader was slightly less than half his age, as several of his confidants had “helpfully” pointed out. And this old wolf can still dispatch you easily enough, little lamb, if Prince Constantine stays out of the way.

The representation of the Christian Democrats in the present Parliament was limited - just 28 MPs, all of whom had broken away from the United Christian Front when Prince Constantine had left the party. But that number wasn’t representative of their polling support - the Christian Democrats were a definitive “third force” in the pending election. Taking fairly centrist positions and probably better appealing to Pantocratorian social and religious sensibilities than either the Socialist Alliance or the government’s junior coalition partner, the Party for National Action, the party was a viable threat to both the Government and Opposition in hundreds of seats across Pantocratoria. Sir Isaac could easily imagine the Socialists ditching their traditional rural allies, the Constantinople Party, and forming a coalition with the Christian Democrats if the worst of the potential polls for the Government came true. But if Prince Constantine was a potential partner for Mme Pagonis after the election, he was a deadly threat to her during the election, Sir Isaac knew. Leaked Socialist Alliance polling suggested a small but appreciable chance that the Christian Democrats could overtake Socialist representation in the next Parliament.

And you, my dear, want to be the bride, not the bridesmaid. Sir Isaac concluded, his gaze lingering on the Opposition Leader for a few moments before he stared ahead again as was generally best to do when cameras were pointing at one.

Why does he always look at me like that? Pagonis thought for herself as she pretended not to notice. At least when the election is over, one way or another, so will be these awkward events together.

[Tehua]

His Imperial Highness, Felipe, Archduke of Tehua, was a heavyset man with a thick neck and a greying, receding hairline. His features would have fit in better in Brasland than in Tehua. He had developed something of a reputation as a friend of Pantocratoria ever since the ascension of his niece to the Tehuan throne and the election of the current Pantocratorian government. He frequently summered here with his wife, Leonor, and his son, Juan. They did all the pleasant summertime activities, of course, but he spent many of his nights in elegant clubs and drawing rooms drinking the finest drinks in the Atlantic and speaking to other wealthy and grandly titled individuals from throughout the region. He was in such a place tonight, his hefty frame settled in the finely upholstered chair, as he glanced over the newspaper report on the elections. He frowned slightly and set it down, leaning back. "I get enough socialism at home," he groused. "Speaking privately and confidentially, of course."

[Pantocratoria]

Charles Angelus, Prince of Verditania, was a Pantocratorian aristocrat who had recently reached his sixtieth year. Although styled prince, his title was understood to be the equivalent of a duke. Nobody really understood why the lords of the island of Verditania in the Gulf of Verdi had always been styled as a prince, but despite being equivalent to a duke, the peculiar distinction did help him affect a certain air of importance at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, where he was a fixture almost year round. He was a grandée both by his landholdings and by his prominence in New Rome society, and hosting an Archduke of Tehua in his home in New Rome's Old Quarter was certainly something which would reassert that social status in case anybody thought his star was on the decline.

"Of course, Monsieur." Charles replied. He glanced at his wife as she brought them each a fresh drink. "I don't tolerate socialism in my home, do I madame?"

The Princess of Verditania, Emilie Angela, was forty-five and still very beautiful. She had to be - the Prince made it clear that he expected her to maintain the very highest standards of appearance. She had recently recovered from a laser treatment (against lines in the skin) her husband had insisted upon in the guise of giving her an Easter gift. Unlike her husband Charles, Emilie was not from an ancient line of aristocrat island lords, but was a fatherless commoner born out of wedlock, abandoned as a babe at an orphanage. Her agreeable appearance and demeanor had seen her selected as one of the Emperor's Maidens, which had in turn provided her with a dowry and social respectability enough for a marriage to a man of quality. Unfortunately, Charles Angelus never let her forget the exulted highness of his own quality when compared to her own. One of the ways he liked to do that was by making her look stupid in social situations, and she recognised the question for what it was before helplessly cooperating.

"No, of course not, monsieur." Emilie replied, waiting for whatever was about to come.

"I make sure to put you back in your place when you get too bolshie, don't I?" Charles teased her. To their guest, it might appear that he did so in good will. That's how practiced he was at it.

"Speaking of my place, is there anything else I can get you gentlemen before I retire for the evening?" Emilie asked. It was a gentlemen's evening, and Archduchess Leonor was not present, and so she knew her place was to absent herself after making the necessary appearance as hostess, and was more than happy to do so tonight.

"Cigars." Charles said.

"Oh, where is my head?" Emilie said, and moved quickly to the small humidor next to the drinks cabinet, to retrieve a box of the Prince's best cigars.

"I suppose the Chancellor couldn't put the election off any longer." Charles said, addressing the Archduke again. "I really couldn't stand another Socialist/Constantinople Party Coalition Government, you know. One really feels it is one's patriotic duty to do everything one can to avoid such a national calamity."

Despite his ancestral seat being a Greek-speaking island which had voted heavily for the Constantinople Party and had in turn leapt at the chance to declare itself Orthodox when the Greek-rite was brought back, or perhaps because of that, Charles Angelus had a deep contempt for rural, Greek-speaking, Orthodox Pantocratorians. He regarded the reassertion of bilingualism and the emergence of Greek Orthodoxy as every bit as cancerous for Pantocratoria's national progress and unity as the Socialists with their politics of class envy. He was disturbed in his reflections by his wife returning to stand by the table, this time with an open box of fine cigars.

"Your Imperial Highness, would you like a cigar?" Emilie asked, addressing the Archduke as sweetly and respectfully as she could, leaning towards him to make it easy to reach into the box while happening to place her breasts at perfect eye level and close proximity to the Archduke, knowing that her self-important husband would feel at once somehow slighted by the whole performance but unable to say anything. She was just being courteous.

[Pantocratoria]

Imperial Parliament
PARLIAMENTARY DEBATES

Pantocratoria, Parliamentary Debates, vol. no. 261, Feast of St. Anthony of Padua (13th June) 51 Andreus I Capet (2024), Yellow p. 4

The Hon. Lord Speaker: The Leader of the Constantinople Party.

Honourable Members: Hear, hear!

M. Petros STRATIADES MP: Thank you, My Lord Speaker. My question is for the Imperial Chancellor. Can the Imperial Chancellor explain to the House why his government agreed to the clauses on Product Regulation in the recently negotiated Treaty of Nivelet, in particular items g, h and i, which will have a devastating impact on the agricultural sector in this country, and at a time when farmers are already squeezed beyond all reason by his government's appalling economic and environmental policies?

Members Interjecting

The Hon. Lord Speaker: Order! The Right Honourable, the Imperial Chancellor.

The Rt. Hon. Sir Isaac COMNENUS MP: My Lord Speaker...

The Hon. Lord Speaker: Order! The Chancellor will be heard in silence!

The Rt. Hon. Sir Isaac COMNENUS MP: Well, we know he'll swallow anything, my Lord Speaker...

Members interjecting

The Hon. Lord Speaker: The Chancellor has the call.

The Rt. Hon. Sir Isaac COMNENUS MP: We really cannot blame the leader... my Lord Speaker, he will swallow anything his people feed him!

Members interjecting

The Hon. Lord Speaker: No, I'll not accept a point of order. The Imperial Chancellor.

The Rt. Hon. Sir Isaac COMNENUS MP: My Lord Speaker, I reject the premise of the question. These clauses will not have a devastating impact on the Pantocratorian agricultural sector which, my Lord Speaker, honourable members should know is one of the most efficient and competitive in the world.

Honourable Members: Hear, hear!

The Rt. Hon. Sir Isaac COMNENUS MP: It is true that there will be some minor changes which come about as a result of the treaty, including some minor changes to... erm... some minor changes to the poultry industry in particular, and, my Lord Speaker, it is true as well that not all of these changes are changes the government would have liked, but it is in the nature of negotiating treaties, treaties with our closest allies and neighbours in this case I might add, my Lord Speaker, that sometimes one must make small concessions for the greater benefit, and in this case the government is confident that the minor changes required in livestock handling are worth the benefits which come from expanding the Western Atlantic Currency Area. Further, whatever small inconvenience may be suffered by agricultural producers from having to change a few minor practices will be more than compensated by the favourable clause on beef products, my Lord Speaker, which will greatly incentivize WACA participants to purchase Pantocratorian beef rather than importing from outside of the region. Now my Lord Speaker, I know full well that the Constantinople Party will seek to run a scare campaign about the impact on the agricultural sector, but the government trusts that Pantocratorian farmers are smart enough to be guided by facts, rather than nonsensical scare campaigns. They will reap the benefits, my Lord Speaker, of a larger market and a higher volume of trade, and my Lord Speaker, in the medium term, any short-term pain will be more than compensated by that growth. That question and that scare campaign, my Lord Speaker, is unbecoming the Leader of the Constantinople Party, unbecoming, my Lord Speaker, in that it was so utterly lightweight.

Members interjecting

The Hon. Lord Speaker: Order! Order!

[Tehua]

Charles Angelus, Prince of Verditania, was a Pantocratorian aristocrat who had recently reached his sixtieth year. Although styled prince, his title was understood to be the equivalent of a duke. Nobody really understood why the lords of the island of Verditania in the Gulf of Verdi had always been styled as a prince, but despite being equivalent to a duke, the peculiar distinction did help him affect a certain air of importance at the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator, where he was a fixture almost year round. He was a grandée both by his landholdings and by his prominence in New Rome society, and hosting an Archduke of Tehua in his home in New Rome's Old Quarter was certainly something which would reassert that social status in case anybody thought his star was on the decline.

"Of course, Monsieur." Charles replied. He glanced at his wife as she brought them each a fresh drink. "I don't tolerate socialism in my home, do I madame?"

The Princess of Verditania, Emilie Angela, was forty-five and still very beautiful. She had to be - the Prince made it clear that he expected her to maintain the very highest standards of appearance. She had recently recovered from a laser treatment (against lines in the skin) her husband had insisted upon in the guise of giving her an Easter gift. Unlike her husband Charles, Emilie was not from an ancient line of aristocrat island lords, but was a fatherless commoner born out of wedlock, abandoned as a babe at an orphanage. Her agreeable appearance and demeanor had seen her selected as one of the Emperor's Maidens, which had in turn provided her with a dowry and social respectability enough for a marriage to a man of quality. Unfortunately, Charles Angelus never let her forget the exulted highness of his own quality when compared to her own. One of the ways he liked to do that was by making her look stupid in social situations, and she recognised the question for what it was before helplessly cooperating.

"No, of course not, monsieur." Emilie replied, waiting for whatever was about to come.

"I make sure to put you back in your place when you get too bolshie, don't I?" Charles teased her. To their guest, it might appear that he did so in good will. That's how practiced he was at it.

"Speaking of my place, is there anything else I can get you gentlemen before I retire for the evening?" Emilie asked. It was a gentlemen's evening, and Archduchess Leonor was not present, and so she knew her place was to absent herself after making the necessary appearance as hostess, and was more than happy to do so tonight.

"Cigars." Charles said.

"Oh, where is my head?" Emilie said, and moved quickly to the small humidor next to the drinks cabinet, to retrieve a box of the Prince's best cigars.

"I suppose the Chancellor couldn't put the election off any longer." Charles said, addressing the Archduke again. "I really couldn't stand another Socialist/Constantinople Party Coalition Government, you know. One really feels it is one's patriotic duty to do everything one can to avoid such a national calamity."

Despite his ancestral seat being a Greek-speaking island which had voted heavily for the Constantinople Party and had in turn leapt at the chance to declare itself Orthodox when the Greek-rite was brought back, or perhaps because of that, Charles Angelus had a deep contempt for rural, Greek-speaking, Orthodox Pantocratorians. He regarded the reassertion of bilingualism and the emergence of Greek Orthodoxy as every bit as cancerous for Pantocratoria's national progress and unity as the Socialists with their politics of class envy. He was disturbed in his reflections by his wife returning to stand by the table, this time with an open box of fine cigars.

"Your Imperial Highness, would you like a cigar?" Emilie asked, addressing the Archduke as sweetly and respectfully as she could, leaning towards him to make it easy to reach into the box while happening to place her breasts at perfect eye level and close proximity to the Archduke, knowing that her self-important husband would feel at once somehow slighted by the whole performance but unable to say anything. She was just being courteous.

Felipe looked towards Emilie. He noticed her display but he didn't make a show of it. It was the briefest of glances. She didn't quite look her age. Perhaps she had had something done? Felipe concluded his host must be an indulgent man and a doting husband to humour such feminine vanity. He was reminded how lucky he was that Leonor was comfortable aging gracefully. "Yes, madam. Thank you," was all he said as he took the cigar. He turned his attention back to the Prince of Verditania.

"The reality is that we have a similar situation back home with Moros. Yes, there is certainly a duty to keep such people and such...misguided...views from government. Unfortunately, that..." Felipe paused as if he had been about to say something he suddenly decided not to, even privately. "Unfortunately, my relationship with Her Imperial Highness makes most forms of direct intervention not merely improper but counterproductive. I have increasingly come to the view that politics is downwind of culture. In its way, the cultural permissiveness of the Christian Democrats in your country, the Radical Democrats back home, or, God help us, the Nationals in Caldas, is even more insidious without the more overt socialist framing. When the social order has broken down culturally, when trust is gone, when family and morality are eroded, what is left worth defending?"

Felipe considered a moment. He let Emilie cut and light his cigar, if she offered, but otherwise he did it himself without comment. "I increasingly feel culture is upstream of politics, especially, though not exclusively, in nations with representative institutions. I have been sponsoring traditionalist groups in local communities back home. A thoroughgoing traditionalism in philosophy, theology, family and civic life, politics. Remembering always of course that both the principle of subsidiarity and the principle of submission to the Holy See and the Church infallible magisterium are indispensable elements of any true traditionalism." Felipe did not want to give the impression he would break bread with schismatics, however understandable their troubles with the modern Church. "Ordinary Pantocratorians have taken brave stands against the degeneracy seeping into their culture, but if it would be possible to extend my efforts here, either by establishing groups in Pantocratoria or by partnering with Pantocratorians of similar minds. Just saying a few words, you know. Nothing political...exactly." He shrugged slightly, as if it were simply an idle thought.

[Pantocratoria]

Relevant parliamentary excerpt about the Treaty of Nivelet: https://forum.nationstates.net/viewtopic.php?f=4&t=551878&p=41725651#p41725651

[Pantocratoria]

Imperial Monitor
Comnenus goes to the polls
Coalition seeks salvation as Christian Democrats surge
IMPERIAL CHANCELLOR Sir Isaac Comnenus has called an election in the face of the latest MonitorPoll showing growing support for the Christian Democrats, while the United Christian Front remains just ahead of the Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance in intended first preference votes.

Although the Chancellor's United Christian Front leads the latest MonitorPoll with 32% of the primary vote, Opposition Leader Agnes Pagonis's Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance is close behind with 30%.

However, the Christian Democrats, led by HIH Prince Constantine Porphyrogenitus, with 16% of the primary vote, could easily swing the election either way with its preferences, and/or find themselves as kingmakers in the new Parliament.

This is the first election in which residents of the Despotate of New Constantinople will be able to vote, with 60 new MPs to be added to the Imperial Parliament representing the Despotate's teaming millions.

MonitorPoll also shows that most voters disapprove of the expansion of the Imperial Parliament to add new MPs to represent the Despotate of New Constantinople, with critics preferring the existing 540 seats to be redistributed across the country including the Despotate rather than adding 60 new politicians to the public payroll.

Based on the latest MonitorPoll figures, neither the United Christian Front nor the Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance could be expected to win the necessary 301 seats for a majority in the newly expanded 600 seat Imperial Parliament.

Perhaps more worryingly for both the Imperial Chancellor and the Opposition Leader, each major party's presumptive coalition partner, the Party for National Action (14%) and the Constantinople Party (8%) respectively are unlikely to win enough seats to deliver a viable coalition which does not include the Christian Democrats.

The Imperial Chancellor angrily rejected speculation about post-election coalitions at his press conference today, describing it as the domain of "riff-raff fortune tellers".

"My Government has been Pantocratoria's rock in the storm of the last 9 years," Sir Isaac declared. "And with your help, and with God's, we will continue to deliver peace and prosperity for our nation, and we will continue to protect and support your families in the years ahead!"

Sir Isaac, 81, has also rejected calls to stand down in favour of a younger leader.

"Pantocratorians know what they are getting with me - the true liability is the youthful inexperience of my opponents!" the Chancellor declared at the press conference.

"The Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance stands for prosperity for all, not just the few!" was how Opposition Leader Agnes Pagonis opened the official campaign, already on the campaign trail at a steel plant in Demetriopolis when the Chancellor visited the Palace.

Looking faintly ridiculous in a hard-hat and orange high-visibility vest, Madame Pagonis indicated that the Socialists were willing to consider a preference deal with the Christian Democrats, but demurred when asked about the Christian Democrats as potential coalition partners after the election.

"We are going to fight for every vote." Prince Constantine declared, when asked if he looked forward to playing kingmaker in the next Parliament. "Our support grows day by day, and we are in this election to win it. I want to lead a reasonable, moderate, sensible Christian Democrat Government, not just be the junior party in a coalition."

"There has never been a more important election." Deputy Chancellor Col. Philippe Nogent of the Party for National Action declared an Action-Nationale rally in Adrienople this afternoon. "This election will decide whether the cultural Marxists succeed in corrupting the Pantocratorian family through their globalist tendrils from across the seas, or whether Pantocratoria continues to stand true for God and for our own people!"

The Party for National Action has seen its support slide in recent months, with some of its voters returning to the United Christian Front directly under Sir Isaac Comnenus's leadership, just as more moderate United Christian Front voters have started to look to the Christian Democrats.

"We should not allow useful idiots to distort Christian teachings against the Christian nation!" Nogent said of the Christian Democrats at today's rally. "We should not 'turn the other cheek' to globalist pedophiles, criminals, perverts, and cultural Marxists out of misguided charity or tolerance of those who are the most intolerant, who spit on the Cross, who defame the Blessed Virgin, and who will stop at nothing short of the destruction of the family, of mothers and fathers, of our children."

[Excalbia]

The Emperor’s Drawing Room
The Imperial Palace
Citadel Excalbia

The ornately carved wooden table featured golden accents and a fine linen table cloth. The plates were gold-rimed china bearing the Imperial crest of the House of Alsgood, and the glasses were fine crystal. Emperor Joseph sat on one side, wearing a grey suit with a pale blue shirt and a yellow tie.

Across from him, Imperial Chancellor Paul Akoak wore a dark blue suit, white shirt and bright red tie. While the Emperor enthusiastically ate his lobster salad, the Chancellor picked at it more cautiously. Although his lunches with the Emperor had become routine, Akoak was still somewhat self-conscious about making a mess while dining alone with the Emperor.

With their “unofficial” official agenda covered, the Emperor sipped his white wine and looked at the Chancellor. “So, what do you make of the elections coming up in Pantocratoria?”

Akoak took his napkin from his lap and dabbed at the corner of his mouth. Such questions from the Emperor were never quite as casual as they seemed. “Well,” he said, pausing briefly, “it will be good to see a free and fair election in Pantocratoria, regardless of the outcome.”

The Emperor smiled and set down his glass. “Now, Paul,” he said, “you know what I mean.”

“The polling seems to indicate a coalition will be necessary,” Akoak said. “Either the UCF or the Socialists will need to form a coalition with the Christian Democrats, if not one of the parties, to form a majority.”

The Emperor nodded. “Doesn’t sound like the recipe for a strong mandate in any direction.” He nodded at the Chancellor. “Of course, I’m sure you’d prefer to see the Socialists.”

Akoak set down his fork. “It wouldn’t really be proper for me to express a preference in another country’s elections…”

“Of course not. Publicly at least,” the Emperor said. “Just between us, I hope that idiot Nogent gets tossed. And good old Sir Isaac is about 20 years past his retirement.” He picked up his wine. “At least if the Christian Democrats do well, Constantine might be able to get his hand in the mix.” He smiled. “And at least he’s family.”

“Of course, Sir,” Akoak agreed, before taking up his fork.

[Pantocratoria]

Election Night Coverage
Peacock Daily News

"...and we are getting exit polling results from MONITORPOLL as vote counting begins across Pantocratoria." said veteran political news broadcaster, Virginie Merlot. An infographic filled the screen behind her. "According to exit polls, the United Christian Front has won the most votes, with 30% of the primary vote nationwide. The Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance has come close, though, very close, on 28%. Almost every poll had them neck and neck, and while Sir Isaac and the UCF will be happy to have come first, they may be very nervous about that margin. That won't get either party a majority in the new 600 seat Imperial Parliament. So, the race to 301 seats will come down to the cross bench. The traditional coalition mates of the Socialists, the Constantinople Party, have held their vote at around 8%. That will probably mean they retain their existing seats, maybe even pick up some. The Government's junior coalition partner, the Party for National Action, has suffered a big swing against it since it joined the Government a decade ago. Its primary vote sits at 14%, but since they ran in more seats than the Constantinople Party, that will almost certainly result in less seats actually gained, even with a strong preference flow from the United Christian Front. Finally, the newcomer Christian Democrats, led by former Minister, His Imperial Highness the Prince Constantine, has garnered an impressive share of 20% of the primary votes, nationwide."

Merlot stepped away from her desk, picking up a tablet as she did so. She flicked a few things around on the screen as she walked across to the other side of the studio stage, before looking back up at the camera.

"Our election computer is now prepared with its first seat estimates based on these primary votes and expected preference flows." she declared.

The screen showed a blue bar chart and the portrait of Imperial Chancellor, Sir Isaac Comnenus.

"The United Christian Front, with 30% of the primary vote, should win between 214 and 249 seats. That's at least 52 seats short of a majority in their own right." Merlot said, pressing her tablet screen. "And that's very important, because..."

The screen switched to the uniformed portrait of Colonel Philippe Nogent (ret'd), and the black bar of the Party for National Action's vote share appeared on the screen and added to the blue bar.

"...their junior coalition partner, the Party for National Action, will probably win no more than 35 seats, and perhaps even less." Merlot declared. "Which means that Peacock Daily News is predicting that the Imperial Government has failed to be returned, falling at least 17 seats short and perhaps much more, depending on how the actual vote progresses."

The screen switched to a portrait of Opposition Leader Agnes Pagonis and a big red bar, which assumed a position below the join blue and black bar of the Government on the screen.

"With 28% of the vote, our election computer predicts the Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance will win nearly as many seats as the United Christian Front: 212 to 247 seats. Also short of a majority in their own right." Merlot declared. "Now, their coalition with the Constantinople Party is no longer in effect but might be expected to easily be resumed. Let's look at them."

The generously proportioned form of Petros Stratiades appeared on the screen and a small olive green bar graph appeared to grow onto the end of the big red bar.

"Peacock Daily News predicts between 24 and 31 seats for the Constantinople Party, a strong result for them, very strong in certain regions. But not enough to form a governing coalition with the Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance alone." Virginie Merlot concluded.

The screen switched to a glamorous portrait of Prince Constantine, and a yellow bar graph started appearing below the red and olive green line, somewhere between a third and a half of the red line.

"It is perhaps appropriate that the Prince play the role of Kingmaker." Virginie Merlot declared with a smile. They had rehearsed that line many times in preparation for the broadcast. "Prince Constantine's Christian Democrats are predicted to win 74 to 93 seats. And although that's well short of the 301 seats needed to form government in their own right, I think most would agree that the new Christian Democrats are the real winners tonight."

[Knootoss]

Selection from a transcript of the cabinet of the Free Republic of Knootoss

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: The next item is the Pantocratorian general election.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Thank you, Prime Minister. The outgoing Pantocratorian government is finished. The UCF and Action Nationale together cannot reach 301 in the new Parliament. Sir Isaac Comnenus is expected to resign rather than negotiate with Prince Constantine. There are two viable coalitions to replace it. The first is a Socialist-led government, where Pagonis brings in the Christian Democrats. The second has the UCF under a new leader, allied with the Christian Democrats.

MINISTER OF ECONOMIC AFFAIRS GZ. H. VAN DRUTEN: We should say what actually happened last night. Pantocratoria spent a decade being dragged to the hard right. They made it damn near illegal to organise a workplace, replaced public education with book burnings, made life miserable for workers, for teenagers, for trans people, for anyone who didn't fit their idea of a proper Pantocratorian family, and the electorate has finally had enough. That's what matters.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Both noted. Let's discuss the framing of our congratulations.

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: Prime Minister, before we proceed, there is a question on a matter of protocol which I should address, as it has material implications. The election of the 111th Imperial Parliament should be a matter for the President of the Estates-General to respond to. Specifically, it would be appropriate for the President to address the Lord Speaker of the Imperial Parliament, who has been appointed by the Emperor upon the collective advice of the Grand Chamber of the High Lords of Justice, though only after the new parliament has been installed and sworn in. Now, I understand what you are all thinking - that the Lord Speaker of the Imperial Parliament is a judge appointed by the executive, not elected from the new Imperial Parliament. But in Pantocratorian constitutional terms, the incoming Lord Speaker does represent the new Parliament, and following the closest-counterpart principle, our own legislature remains the necessary point-of-origin for a congratulatory message directed towards the incoming parliament.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: I see.

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: And it would be for the Grand Pensionary to issue congratulations to the Emperor for the conduct of the election. Your counterpart, Prime Minister, would be the Imperial Chancellor, who by Pantocratorian constitutional convention has enjoyed the confidence of the Imperial Parliament since it was created by Emperor Demetrius VIII in in 1672.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Yes, fascinating, but...

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: There is a fascinating legal debate about when the appointment of the Imperial Chancellor became viewed as the de facto result of a democratic majoritarian process, as opposed to the confidence of the parliament being decided by a fluid majority in the Imperial Parliament. You see, the Imperial Chancellor has been selected by the Imperial Parliament since its inception to resolve the situation of co-emperors, which stands in a a fascinating contrast to the executive role of the Hoeder in the first and second Knootian Republics. Several points during the late 19th and early 20th centuries present themselves, as coalition governments of formal parties become political practice in the Pantocratorian Imperial system.

MINISTER OF ECONOMIC AFFAIRS GZ. H. VAN DRUTEN: Leonie...

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: The point being that it would be inappropriate for you to congratulate any counterpart, when the outgoing Imperial Chancellor is now in a caretaker role, having lost the confidence of the incoming Parliament, but without a clear Imperial Chancellor-elect.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Right. That's good to know.

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: Separately, there is the question of the proper instrument. A press statement is informal, and carries no standing. A note verbale transmitted through the embassy is the correct instrument under the applicable conventions on inter-state correspondence, but a note verbale would not ordinarily be issued until the sovereign has exercised the prerogative of commission. If we transmit a note before the Emperor has acted, we are, at minimum, presuming the exercise of an Imperial prerogative, which constitutes a breach of the conventions on diplomatic correspondence between states of unequal constitutional form.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: So what do we...

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: The cleanest solution is a two-stage approach. Stage one: the Prime Minister issues an informal public statement congratulating the Pantocratorian people on the conduct of the election, addressed to no one in particular, using the formula "the people of Pantocratoria" rather than "the Pantocratorian government". Stage two: the formal diplomatic note follows after the Emperor commissions a government, at which point it can be addressed to the incoming Chancellor by name and title. The public statement should not name parties, leaders, or coalition configurations. It should not comment on the formation process. It should not speculate on the composition of the next government.

MINISTER OF DEFENCE DR. P-J VAN MERSBERG: Leonie, I think we...

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: I would also recommend that the public statement be cleared through the Protocol Directorate before publication. The last statement that Foreign Affairs drafted unilaterally used the phrase "head of government" in a context where the correct designation was "head of state", which was noticed.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: It was noticed by you.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Leonie. We will use the two-stage approach. Thank you.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: Can we get the framing on the statement right, at least? Millions of first-time voters in New Constantinople. If we lead on the expansion of democratic participation, it plays as forward-looking rather than reactive. Something warm and shareable. Right now the whole region is posting about this result and we should be part of that conversation, not sitting it out until the Protocol Directorate has finished checking the letterhead.

MINISTER OF THE INTERIOR MR. L. VAN CYMRIË: There is nothing wrong with checking the letterhead.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: For being 'in' on the discourse there is.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Hendrik, your people will draft the statement with the democratic-participation angle. Now. Strategic assessment.

MINISTER OF DEFENCE DR. P-J VAN MERSBERG: The question is which of the two scenarios Hendrik outlined better serves Knootian interests. Either coalition depends on the Christian Democrats agreeing terms.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Both coalitions include the Christian Democrats, so it depends on where Prince Constantine lands. What is our assessment of his preference?

MINISTER OF DEFENCE DR. P-J VAN MERSBERG: He has positioned the Christian Democrats equidistant from both the UCF and the Socialists, while opposing the PNA. In practice, the Socialist path gives him a few more seats relative to his coalition partners, while the UCF path requires him to work with a party whose membership still considers him a defector. On balance, the Socialist coalition is probably his more comfortable option.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: Which is also the better option for us. A progressive Pantocratorian government would be the first in a generation. That's the moment, the clip that goes everywhere. The whole Western Atlantic watches Pantocratoria go left and suddenly the conversation shifts. The narrative that the populist right is inevitable, that it's the natural order of things... that breaks down. People see an alternative. That matters for our momentum too. The centre-left is back.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: The Treaty of Nivelet was negotiated with the outgoing government. A Pagonis government may want to revisit regulatory alignment and monetary stability.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: Look, Hendrik, nobody outside this bubble cares about your status quo. The story of the last decade is now that the right governed, brought extremists into the tent, and delivered nothing. If Pagonis forms a government, that story changes. That's worth more than any individual treaty clause.

MINISTER OF ECONOMIC AFFAIRS GZ. H. VAN DRUTEN: Sam is right. We signed a treaty with people who sat next to fascists at the cabinet table. That's a bloody liability. If Pagonis forms a government, we have a chance to put the relationship on a footing we can actually defend to our own voters.

MINISTER FOR DEVELOPMENT AND SUSTAINABILITY IR. A. NDLOVU: We should be cautious about framing this as a choice we make. The Pantocratorian electorate has spoken. Our task is to work with whatever government emerges. I would ask you all to consider what it looks like from the other side when a foreign power decides it knows better than the voters.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Ayanda, every foreign ministry in the Western Atlantic is engaging with this formation right now. All the monarchies have family connections to the Imperial household. If we are the lone Republic that sits at the back of the class and waits to see what the crowned heads land on, we will be the only government with no input on the outcome. My ministry should have a free hand to ensure our interests are part of the conversation. I would like that noted and I would like to move to the next item.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Before we move on. What does a free hand mean in practice, Hendrik?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: It means my ministry engages with the formation through normal channels.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Which channels?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Jasmijn, I appreciate your interest in operational diplomacy, but this is not your portfolio.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: I am asking which parties your ministry intends to engage with during the formation.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: All relevant parties to the formation. As I said.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Including the Christian Democrats?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Including everyone.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: And what would you be saying to Prince Constantine, specifically? Everyone around this table has just agreed that the Socialist coalition is the more natural outcome and the better one for Knootoss. What message would your ministry be delivering to Constantine?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: The Prince's circumstances are more fluid than his public positioning suggests. He may be receptive to guidance from governments he considers aligned with his interests. We are well placed to offer that guidance.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Personal circumstances?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Charlotte, I would suggest that the specifics are not a matter for full cabinet discussion. If Jasmijn has concerns about my ministry's conduct, she can raise them through the proper...

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: I am raising them now.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: You are asking me to brief operational detail in a room full of people. I am not going to do that.

MINISTER OF DEFENCE DR. P-J VAN MERSBERG: Prime Minister, I would strongly recommend that this particular thread be pursued in a principals-only setting. Strongly.

MINISTER OF ECONOMIC AFFAIRS GZ. H. VAN DRUTEN: Oh, wonderful. Another restricted session. Last month it was the Anahuac slush fund. Now it's Pantocratoria and the same man wants a "free hand" and won't say what that means. At what point do you just ask me to step outside, so the deep-state can have a pow-wow? I'm bloody tired of it.

MINISTER FOR DEVELOPMENT AND SUSTAINABILITY IR. A. NDLOVU: We should know what this is about.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: I will make this simple. Hendrik, you said "the Princes' circumstances". Does your ministry hold intelligence on Prince Constantine of a personal nature?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: I am not going to discuss intelligence holdings in this forum.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Then I will. The intelligence services hold material confirming that Prince Constantine is gay. Hendrik's free hand means using that material as leverage to pressure the Prince into a right-wing coalition so that the next UCF Chancellor, whoever that turns out to be, arrives in office knowing that Hendrik put him there.

MINISTER OF ECONOMIC AFFAIRS GZ. H. VAN DRUTEN: What?

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: Sorry, what?

MINISTER FOR DEVELOPMENT AND SUSTAINABILITY IR. A. NDLOVU: Jasmijn...

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: This is... Prime Minister, I need to formally raise the matter of a serious breach of intelligence protocols. But I also need to say something about what is happening here, because this is not about Pantocratoria. The Minister for Education has spent the last three months litigating grievances against my ministry in every forum she can find. Qubti reconstruction. The Anahuac envelope. And now this, in the most spectacular way she can manage, with classified material she should not possess or share. And I wonder whether the Minister for Education arrived at this crusade independently, or whether she had co-conspirators who set her up for this.

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: I see. I'm a hysterical and ambitious woman on someone else's leash. Is that your defence?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: I did not say hysterical. I said this is a pattern. And I notice you didn't answer the question.

MINISTER OF ECONOMIC AFFAIRS GZ. H. VAN DRUTEN: Christ, Hendrik. She just told us you want to blackmail a gay man to keep the Pantocratorian right in power, and your answer is that she's got it in for you? Are you listening to yourself?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: I did not propose blackmail. I proposed diplomatic engagement. The Minister for Education has constructed a narrative and she is performing it for an audience. She is manipulating you. That is what this is.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: For the record: what Jasmijn has described is insane. This is not something we should do.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Prime Minister, there has been a serious breach of classified intelligence protocols and I need to formally...

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Hendrik, I am sure you would love to spend the rest of this meeting discussing how I know rather than what you are proposing. I am not going to help you with that.

MINISTER OF DEFENCE DR. P-J VAN MERSBERG: For the record, if this surfaces, and these things inevitably surface, we lose the bilateral relationship.

MINISTER OF FINANCE S. KATZ: Pieter-Jan, you were trying to get this into a restricted session thirty seconds ago.

MINISTER OF DEFENCE DR. P-J VAN MERSBERG: I was trying to keep classified material out of a full cabinet. That failed. I am now giving you my assessment of the proposal on its merits.

MINISTER FOR DEVELOPMENT AND SUSTAINABILITY IR. A. NDLOVU: Charlotte, I want to be clear that I consider this to be fundamentally wrong. Not imprudent. Wrong.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Enough. Let me be clear about several things. First. We are not going to use a man's private life as an instrument of foreign policy. This is not a discussion. It is not a matter for further consideration. It is finished. Second. Hendrik, you knew that if you had proposed this, this cabinet would not have authorised it. That is not how a minister asks for a mandate. That is how a minister tries to avoid needing one. Third. Jasmijn. You had classified intelligence that you should not have had, and you chose to disclose it in full cabinet rather than raising it with me privately before this meeting. You knew exactly what you were doing and you knew exactly what effect it would have. I am the Prime Minister. I was aware of the intelligence. I did not authorise its use. I would not have authorised its use. Both of you will be hearing from me about your conduct today.

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Charlie...

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: I have not finished. We will follow Leonie's two-stage approach. Foreign Affairs will draft the public statement but I will edit it personally before it goes out. Hendrik. If anyone in your ministry freelances on this, I will find out. And we will have a conversation that you will not enjoy. Am I understood?

MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS AND TRADE MR. H.P.F. DE LANGE: Understood.

PRIME MINISTER DRS. C. VAN JONKERVELDE: Jasmijn?

MINISTER OF EDUCATION AND SCIENCE IR. J. VAN KRUISSEN: Understood.

[Pantocratoria]

Joint post with The Resurgent Dream
Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator
New Rome, Pantocratoria

The marble statue of Hercules which dominated the living room of Prince Constantine and Princess Morgan’s private apartments in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator had brightly coloured streamers dangling from his demigod appendages and was strewn with confetti, as was the rest of the living room. Discarded notepads, tablets, and laptop computers were also in varying states of discarded disarray on tables and couches, alongside empty champagne bottles and flutes. Two Christian Democrat staffers were snoozing on couches of purple velvet and silver leaf, having stayed up all night looking at results of yesterday’s election from across all of Pantocratoria. A set of double doors with gold leaf inlay bearing motifs of bunches of grapes and olive wreaths adjoined the living room - behind these closed doors was the bedroom of the Leader of the Christian Democrats. Inside, rays of sunlight entered the room where the curtains weren’t pulled fully closed, and woke the couple sleeping inside.

Constantine had mostly stripped out of his day clothes in the wee hours of the morning when he had come to bed, but hadn’t properly changed for the evening according to the pattern of life in the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. He was initially surprised to be wearing his underwear and his socks before he remembered the circumstances of how he had staggered to bed just a few hours before, and a big smile broke out across his face as he sat up and got out of bed, and made his way to a wardrobe to retrieve a purple silk dressing gown.

Morgan had not gone to bed before her husband and awoke similarly disheveled when she felt him rise from beside her. She made a small groaning noise and rolled over to her other side briefly before rising to follow him. She gave him a quick kiss, affectionate but not passionate, and turned to get ready herself. “Do we know anything yet?” she asked as if he hadn’t also just woken up.

“Let’s see…” Constantine said. He wandered over to the bedside table where his phone was lying. “Oh, I didn’t plug it in. Shall we check with Jacques and Antoine?”

“Let me see if I…” She looked at her phone. “Apparently, I did too. Let’s ask them.”

Constantine smiled and walked over to the double doors, which he opened and pushed open simultaneously. In the room beyond, the nearest of the two staffers stirred from his slumber on the couch.

“Just resting my eyes!” he declared pre-emptively before he assessed the situation. Across from him on another couch, the other staffer’s eyes blinked open and his mouth went wide.

“Jacques, what’s the latest of the seat count?” Constantine asked the staffer who had just been resting his eyes.

“Your… Imperial Highness…” Jacques became unusually formal in the presence of both the Prince and Princess in their dressing gowns, and woke his laptop up from its own slumber with repeated tappings of the shift key. “Uhh… it looks like… we’re leading in 85 seats, monsieur.”

“I think we’ll fall behind in Adrienople Parc and Vianney.” said Antoine, the other staffer, looking at messages on his phone. “Scrutineers say the preference flow is weaker than I think Peacock is projecting.”

“And the United Christian Front?” Constantine asked.

“Looking like low 230s, monsieur.” Jacques replied.

“They’re only a fraction ahead of the Socialists.” Antoine declared. “They might be 230 even. At least high 220s.”

“So… it’s true.” Constantine said, breathing out and looking to Morgan. “We’re the kingmakers.”

“Apparently so,” Morgan said. “I imagine they will both be reaching out for negotiations soon.” She looked between the two staffers. Constantine already knew her thoughts. She imagined they did too. Morgan had long held the PSA was genuinely committed to Pantocratoria’s human rights and democratic reforms in a way the UCF had never been and, while she did not endorse their economic ideology exactly, she was comfortable with the reforms likely to be actually passed by a government, especially a coalition government.

“Jacques, not that I think they’d make easy bedfellows… but the Constantinople Party and the Party for National Action, how many seats do they have?” Constantine asked.

“High twenties, each.” Jacques answered.

“So… less than sixty… and the United Christian Front has low 230s… so it wouldn’t be enough even if they were able to convince the Constantinople Party…” Constantine thought out loud.

“Mathematically, we are the kingmakers,” Morgan reiterated unnecessarily.

“Monsieur, Sir Isaac has scheduled a press conference for 11:30 this morning.” Antoine said, looking at his phone.

“Concession? Resignation?” Jacques speculated.

“He’ll resign instead of reach out to me.” Constantine declared with some satisfaction.

Morgan just smiled. Constantine looked at the clock in the middle of the wall behind them. It was at once an extraordinary piece of porphyry sculpture and a triumph of the clockmaker’s art, an horological masterpiece of exquisite and ridiculous sophistication, in the crystal dome of which a series of small golden figures performed a ballet with grace and precision as the silver pendulums below moved and the hands marked the passage of time across a mother-of-pearl clockface. By those hands, it was nearly quarter to nine.

“You know, we could beat him to the post.” Constantine told Morgan. “I could call Madame Pagonis now, sort this out before Comnenus gets on his soap box and eulogises himself while washing his hands. Turn it into a concession speech.”

“That does have a certain emotional appeal,” Morgan admitted. She looked to Jacques and then to Antoine. “What do you think? Would we get less out of a coalition if we reached out and asked for it first?”

“I don’t think so, madame.” Antoine answered.

“Nor do I, I think it is in Pagonis’s interests to give us anything we might reasonably demand, frankly.” Jacques said. “No matter who calls first.”

“Then, if you please,” Constantine told the staffers. “Get me Madame Pagonis on the landline in fifteen minutes.” He looked to Morgan. “Time enough for a shower, I think. Shall we?”

He inclined his head back towards the double doors to their bedroom, attached to which there was an ensuite bathroom. The bedroom also had a strange old-fashioned polished purple ceramic telephone which was the landline Constantine referred to.

Morgan followed him. Her smile was growing now. She looked like she was about to say something and then reconsidered. She felt a little superstitious taking anything as a given before it was officially confirmed. She sat down on the edge of the bed. “This is a good morning, Connie,” she said.

“It’s going to be.” Constantine agreed, closing the doors behind them. “I wish I could pretend I wasn’t significantly swayed by spite. But that old bastard doesn’t get to step aside gracefully for someone else to fail.”

“It’s very in character,” Morgan said, “though his views are so terrible that his incompetence at getting much done has to actually be considered a virtue.”

Constantine smirked and gently snorted a suppressed laugh. He gave Morgan a peck on the cheek.

“I am going to have a shower, would you mind terribly sitting by the phone in case she calls early… or I am late?” he asked her.

“Not at all,” Morgan said.

Eight minutes later, Morgan could hear the shower still running when the purple phone started ringing.

Morgan answered the phone. “Hello.”

“Hello,” began a woman’s voice from the other side. “I’m sorry, maybe my call was misdirected. I was looking to speak to Prince Constantine.”

“This is his wife. Am I speaking to Madame Pagonis?” Morgan replied.

“I beg your pardon,” the voice on the other side said self-consciously. “I didn’t realise, Your Highness. Yes, this is Agnes Pagonis, madame.”

“I know that my husband is eager to speak to you, madame,” Morgan added. “And congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Pagonis said, slightly tentatively. “Is uh, is His Highness available then, madame?”

In the background, Morgan could hear Constantine still showering.

“Very shortly, madam,” Morgan said. “I know he was hoping to call you in just a few minutes.”

There was an awkward silence on the other end.

“Does… do you know if he wants to offer to form a coalition government?” she asked.

The sound of the shower stopped.

“I’ll let him tell you, madam,” Morgan said, raising her voice just slightly to make sure Constantine could hear. “He’s coming right now.”

“Is that her?” Constantine asked redundantly as he stepped out of the shower. Nobody called the landline except by prior arrangement.

He quickly dried his hair and body with a towel, which he shortly wrapped around his trim waist even as he hurried out of the ensuite bathroom into the bedroom, damp feet leaving footprints on the carpets as he did so. He hurried over towards Morgan in his eagerness to take the call. Morgan handed him the phone.

“Good morning, Madame Pagonis.” Constantine began, smiling at Morgan as he did so. She was grinning.

There were a few seconds of silence from Morgan’s perspective, no doubt as Constantine received the Socialist Leader’s greetings.

“You are very kind, madame.” Constantine replied. “You have probably heard that Sir Isaac has called a press conference for later this morning, at 11:30. It is my opinion that at that time, he will resign as leader, so that he does not have to negotiate with me. Unless, of course, he already called you to see if your party was interested in a coalition?” The prince chuckled. There were a few more seconds of silence from Morgan’s perspective while Constantine looked pleased with himself. “Yes, I am. And no, I didn’t think he would do that either, although I think he likes you, for whatever that is worth.”

Constantine let the other side of the call speak for a little while as he looked to Morgan and smiled again. His smile became progressively broader, then he frowned slightly.

“Well, that sounds reasonable if the two of us can’t work it out right now.” Constantine replied. “I am very motivated to work it out before 11:30, madame… Yes, I mean it. You’re staying in New Rome, I assume?” He frowned again, then looked relieved. “Oh well, that’s not too far away from the Palace. That’s good, I’ll make sure His Majesty will take an appointment today.”

Constantine looked thoughtful for whatever Agnes Pagonis said next. He nodded a few times.

“Good. We can support those key commitments. I’m prepared for us to negotiate the details and other policies over the next week. We want you to retain funding for Church schools at the current levels relative to public schools, we want… in fact, you know our non-negotiables already. Other than those, we can negotiate over the rest.” Constantine said into the purple receiver. “I will be the Deputy Chancellor, and I want nine other Christian Democrat cabinet members, accepting that the Treasurer and Minister of Labour will be Socialists… fine Education as well but don’t touch Church school funding… fine, eight other cabinet members. But I will pick the Christian Democrat ministers, not you or your caucus… Yes… yes… we can talk about that next week. We can have a joint meeting or something…”

Constantine looked to Morgan with an excited and slightly impatient expression as Pagonis spoke on the other side of the connection.

“Madame, you are right, there are very many things we need to work out.” Constantine agreed. “But we both agree on what is most important, I think, and that is that our parties will form a coalition government with you as its leader and me as your deputy… I will make the arrangements with His Majesty’s secretary. And I will get Jacques and Antoine to coordinate with your secretariat on a joint written statement to the press. Let’s aim to have it out by 11, shall we?”

Still wearing his towel around his waist, Constantine punched the air with a self-satisfied expression.

“Excellent. Congratulations, Madame Chancellor.” he said, and hung up the phone. He looked to Morgan with a big smile and opened his arms.

Morgan embraced him tightly. “So we’re ready to announce?”

“Yes, I’ll go tell Jacques and Antoine, they need to work on a joint announcement with the Socialist Alliance’s National Secretariat.” Constantine said. “And then I need to get the Emperor’s secretary to ensure he has time to receive Madame Pagonis today. No time like the present.”

“Congratulations!” she said.”Let’s make sure it precedes the soon-to-be former chancellor’s announcement.”

[Pantocratoria]

JOINT PRESS RELEASE
The Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance
and
The Christian Democrats

While final results are still being determined in dozens of seats around Pantocratoria, it is clear that the Comnenus-Nogent Government lost the General Election. It is also clear that the Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance will hold at least 224 seats, if not more, and that the Christian Democrats will hold at least 80 seats, if not more.

This morning, Leader of the Parliamentary Caucus of the Pantocratorian Socialist Alliance, Mme Agnes Pagonis MP, and Leader of the Christian Democrats, HIH the Hon. Prince Constantine MP, agreed to form a new Coalition Government.

The Socialist/Christian Democrat Coalition Government will be led by Agnes Pagonis, with Prince Constantine as her deputy.

Being confident that they can command a majority in the new Imperial Parliament, Mme Pagonis and Prince Constantine will soon be received by HIM The Emperor to seek His Majesty's commission to form the new Imperial Government.

END

[Knootoss]

Prime Minister Drs. Charlotte van Jonkervelde (She/Her)
@DrsCvanJonkervelde

The government of Knootoss congratulates the people of Pantocratoria on the conduct of their election. I look forward to continuing to work together with the government of Pantocratoria towards our shared goals. #Pantocratoria

↷2.910❤3.910∂3

RAISE UP THIS VOICE:♀Cis Female⚤Heterosexual⚭Married✝Reformed Church of the Knootian Covenant∂Knootian∂NU Haag Alumnus

General Taelman (He/Him)
@STAALMAN

Pope-loving bootlickers rigged the Pantocratorian vote to shut up millions of patriotic voters (Party for National Action) and make a government of far-left SOCIALISTS. A majority of Pantocratorians voted AGAINST "socialism" (communism) but the Emperor's son will support them against the majority because socialists and monarchists are both BIG GOVERNMENT against THE PEOPLE. @DrsCvanJonkervelde is in bed with the socialists too. When I am back in power our LAWS against socialism (communism) will be OBEYED AGAIN. #PantocratoriaVotes #Nepotism #Rigged #Treason

This message has been cross-posted from BRAAKLAND by @BRAAKBOT

↷6.730❤9.997∂521

RAISE UP THIS VOICE:♂Male⚤Heterosexual∂Knootian∂Veteran

[Excalbia]

Paul Akoak (He/Him)
@ChancellorOfficial

Congratulations to Mme Agnes Pagonis and HIH Prince Constantine on their electoral victories and the formation of a new government. We look forward to working with our new colleagues in promoting the peace and prosperity of the Western Atlantic. #PeaceandProsperity #WesternAtlanticUnity

↷5237❤15025∂275

RAISE UP THIS VOICE:
⚭Married
✝Church of Excalbia

[Pantocratoria]

Palais du Parlement,
New Rome
The Palais du Parlement in New Rome hosted a portrait gallery of past Imperial Chancellors, in a similar way to many such places all over the world. As is so often the case with such galleries, the artistic merit of many of the portraits was distinctly questionable: generally technically well-executed they nevertheless tended towards unoriginal composition, dark colours, heavy frames. The portrait of Thibault Drapeur, one of those more recent in the gallery, was an exception to this: a modern portrait in a style which was genuinely contemporary by international standards, whose execution exuded enthusiasm and originality ahead of any attempt at realism. The most recent portrait, that of the previous Imperial Chancellor, Sir Thierry del Moray, was a far less successful example of an effort to be contemporary - as if the artist had received multiple contradictory briefs and ultimately delivered something which satisfied none of them. Looking from the corner of his eye, Sir Isaac Comnenus regarded it with even more contempt than he had for its subject, as he slowly made his way to a podium bearing the Imperial Parliament’s seal and a waiting press pack.

Camera flashes already began as the media vultures looked for signs of emotions before Sir Isaac even reached the podium. His face was set, its well-lined aristocratic features concealing the tumult of rage and humiliation which simmered within. He had planned to resign the leadership today, and let someone else grovel to that princely shit, Constantine, but the boy (well, he was 42, but still a boy next to Sir Isaac) and the lamb had already hastily arranged a marriage while he had been wordsmithing his retirement speech. As he reached the podium, he mused that after all these years in public life, he had flattered himself to think that, unlike nearly all of his predecessors whose portraits hung in this gallery, he would be allowed to choose the manner of his departure.

“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen,” Sir Isaac began, to a fresh batch of camera flashes. “A few minutes ago, I called Madame Agnes Pagonis to concede the Government’s defeat in the recent elections, and to congratulate her on forming a new coalition government. I sincerely give her my best wishes as the incoming Imperial Chancellor, and I will hold her in my prayers. I wish nothing but peace and prosperity for Pantocratoria under her stewardship.”

Sir Isaac paused for a moment and resisted saying anything about the incoming Deputy Chancellor.

“This afternoon I have an appointment with His Imperial Majesty The Emperor, at which I will formally advise His Majesty to call upon Madame Pagonis to form a new Imperial Government, and tender my resignation as Imperial Chancellor.” Sir Isaac continued. “I have already written to the Lord Speaker to advise him of my resignation as a Member of the Imperial Parliament, to allow for a fresh by-election to be called ahead of the scheduled first sitting of the new Parliament. This draws a close on 46 years of public life, a decade of which as Imperial Chancellor. I intend to retire and spend what years remain to me with my wife Marguerite, my children, my grand-children, and my great grand-children. I thank you all in advance for respecting my privacy in retirement; I am sure you will agree that my family will be suffering enough with me around full-time as to not want to deal with photographers in the gardens or the like.”

A few journalists chuckled and Sir Isaac permitted himself a wry smile before continuing.

“The Government I led delivered national stability, regional leadership, and strong economic growth. It protected our borders and our way of life from continuous threats from pernicious infiltrators and cultural Marxists.” Sir Isaac began. “Our defeat at the recent elections is not, I think, a verdict on our achievements, but a mood for change grown from complacency grown from prosperity, combined to some extent, it must be admitted, with an accident of electoral mechanics. Those who cherish our way of life, our religion, and our family values, might soon come to regret these elections. Beyond my own ten years as Imperial Chancellor, the United Christian Front has governed Pantocratoria for sixteen years, a generation. It is natural that across such a term, people may come to take for granted what they have. But just because it has been taken for granted does not mean it was delivered easily, without effort! I thank all of my ministers, and all of the United Christian Front and Party for National Action members of parliament for their tireless effort in the national interest. I especially thank the many fine members of parliament who lost their seats at the recent elections. I wish them to know that this result is not representative of their great efforts to be effective representatives and tireless advocates for their communities and our nation.”

“I thank too my staff. My chief of staff, Henri Protones, has rendered Pantocratoria ceaseless service from behind the scenes, and has worked for me in one capacity or another for 34 years.” Sir Isaac continued. “With the departure of Henri and I, in fact, depart the last of those of us who were here in 1992. By contrast, the incoming Imperial Chancellor was still a child at that time! And so it is, I suppose, another generational change…”

Sir Isaac stopped for a moment, and looked down at the prepared notes on the lectern. He had lost his place with that side tangent, and frowned slightly as he tried to find it again. The cameras flashed and the journalists seemed to lean forward, as if finally seeing the old man rather than the cunning politician. For a moment he almost scowled at them as he set aside the notes, before regaining his composure.

“We stand in the portrait gallery of Pantocratorian Imperial Chancellors.” Sir Isaac said. “Soon my portrait will join those of my predecessors in this place, somewhere… down there… As is the way of these things, when they complete it and hang it, the memory of me will be too recent to be much missed. I will still be the lamented former Chancellor. Yesterday’s news. But just as we now look at the portraits of leaders a little further past and reflect not on their final opinion polls, but on their achievements, I am convinced that future historians, perhaps even some of you, will one day look back on the period of the Comnenus Government as a period in which Pantocratorian greatness was unassailed, in which Pantocratorians knew peace and prosperity, in which the family and fatherland enjoyed a golden decade. To my colleagues and coalition partners, be assured, history will judge us better than the recent elections. To the people of Pantocratoria, thank you for the privilege of allowing me a lifetime spent in your service. May God bless you all. Thank you.”

“There will be no questions.” he concluded, turned, and strode away.

[Pantocratoria]

Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator
New Rome

A black limousine bearing a small Pantocratorian flag and the number plate “G-1” was leaving the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator through its inner gate, under the watching gaze of splendidly dress-uniformed Varangian Guard and the more distant cameras of the press, just as a charcoal grey late model Peacock Motors family sedan passed through the outer gate on its way into the palace. The limousine’s windows were tinted darkly so the form of Sir Isaac Comnenus in its back seat was not easily visible to the cameras. By contrast, the grey sedan’s windows were clear, and the waiting cameras were able to zoom in on the occupants. Agnes Pagonis sat in the front passenger seat, not quite aware yet that she was on camera, while her husband Georges drove. For those watching 24-hour news channels covering the event, the feed briefly zoomed in on two children in the back seat, as if identifying an anomaly, before quickly cutting away to an alternative angle of the vehicle as if a director suddenly decided that putting the children on camera was a bad idea.

The cars carrying the outgoing and incoming Imperial Chancellors passed each other without event and without there being any prior intention to synchronize their passage - it was a natural byproduct of the palace’s own scheduling of the appointment of both meetings. The grey sedan passed through the inner gate before the Imperial Chancellor’s official limousine had departed the outer gate. The sedan soon pulled up under the carved stone canopy which adjoined the entrance, surrounded by Varangian Guards with brilliantly polished golden helmets, with nearly as polished bayonets on their assault rifles which were held at attention. Purple-liveried footmen with gleaming cloth-of-gold crosses stepped forward to open car doors, and Agnes Pagonis, now aware of the presence of the cameras since her parked car now directly faced the waiting press and camera crews, stepped out. She wore a white blazer over a dark blouse, and a long white pleated skirt. Her husband wore a navy suit and tie and the children, Hélène, a girl in her early teens, and Nicolas, a boy about ten, each wore what might be described as their “Sunday best”. The children looked both awkward and awestruck, while their mother smiled and waved at the cameras. The footmen then escorted the family inside, while a court official approached the waiting press to bring some of them inside - still cameras only, thank you.

They emerged from the entrance vestibule into the Great Hall, and for a few seconds the family slowed almost instinctively, as though entering a cathedral. Empty of ceremony and spectators, the chamber seemed larger still. A vast purple carpet ran the length of polished marble floors toward a low stage hung with heavy silk, where beneath towering standards stood the great silver throne of the Emperor, raised beneath a canopy and waiting in silent splendour. High galleries curved overhead in shadow, their gilded balustrades catching the light from chandeliers and tall windows so that the hall shimmered faintly above them. Their footsteps, and nothing else, disturbed the stillness. The younger child stared openly at the throne as they passed, while his sister tried to preserve a solemn composure and only half succeeded. Georges Pagonis walked a little straighter, one hand briefly adjusting his jacket, while Agnes Pagonis kept her eyes forward with a determined calm. Beyond the dais the footmen turned smartly to one side, opened an inconspicuous door set into the panelling, and ushered the family into a long corridor beyond.

The family were shown into a salon with high ceilings in one of the newer state apartments of the nineteenth-century wing of the Imperial Court of Christ Pantocrator. It was a room intended for waiting, though in the palace’s manner of waiting, which was to say that even idleness must be conducted magnificently. White-and-gold panelling rose to a painted ceiling of clouds and allegories, while tall mirrors between the windows doubled the gleam of chandeliers and the long folds of purple silk curtains. The polished wooden parquet floor shone beneath carefully placed carpets. Chairs and couches upholstered in pale damask stood in precise arrangement around low tables of inlaid wood. Their elegant design was suggestive of comfort but too formal to invite relaxed lounging. Above a marble chimneypiece hung a vast portrait of the Empress Theodora II late in her life in widow’s black, her expression serene and unreadable.

At one side of the room stood a great clock of gold, silver, enamel, and dark polished walnut, nearly the height of a person. Its face was surmounted by a miniature triumphal arch through which tiny mechanical figures could be seen waiting in frozen procession. Beneath the dial, chased silver doors were closed upon whatever marvel would emerge at the appointed hour. The steady ticking of the mechanism sounded in the room with disproportionate authority. Agnes Pagonis was shown to the principal chair facing the doors by which she would later be summoned onward; her husband Georges to another nearby. The children, having no evident place in the geometry of the room, remained standing together beside the clock - their presence apparently unanticipated by the palace. In the hallway outside, palace officials showed photographers from the press corps outside towards the suite of salons where they would be allowed to take photos.

After a few moments of awkward silence in the waiting room, the door opened again and a girl of perhaps fourteen entered under the guidance of a chamberlain, who addressed himself to the incoming Chancellor:

“Mademoiselle Claire, one of His Imperial Majesty’s Maidens.” he said, as if this was sufficient, and then withdrew.

Claire, the Emperor’s Maiden, was dressed in a simple but exquisitely made white court uniform with silver piping at the cuffs and collar, and carried herself with calm assurance. She curtsied first to the incoming Chancellor, then acknowledged Georges with a graceful inclination of the head before turning to the children with a warm composure that seemed perfectly judged.

“His Imperial Majesty hopes Mademoiselle and Jeune Monsieur Pagonis might permit me to show them the clock,” she said. “It performs on the quarter hour. I think today it is in particularly good humour.”

Hélène’s solemnity broke first into a smile, and Nicolas looked intrigued. They looked to their mother, who had stood up when the girl in the white uniform had entered the room.

“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Agnes Pagonis replied.

“Please, sit and be comfortable, madame.” the girl in white replied with a deferential expression.

The incoming Chancellor sat down, and her children followed the Emperor’s Maiden across the carpet. Georges Pagonis, whose expression could generously be described as puzzled, looked across to his wife as if to ask who this was. Agnes Pagonis shrugged slightly and mouthed “A courtier?” back.

Claire knelt beside the great case to point out details invisible at first glance: tiny soldiers worked into the enamel border, a ship no larger than a hand beneath the arch, little bells hidden among gilded leaves. She could not have been more than a year older than Hélène Pagonis, but seemed to be as organic to the palace as the elegant (but not too comfortable) furniture or the elaborate clock she was presently demonstrating to the Pagonis children. Almost as soon as the Emperor’s Maiden had finished explaining the details, the clock struck the quarter hour, and the clockwork figures began to move, and the little bells rang once, the ship moved through the arch, and Nicolas Pagonis laughed.

Just a moment after the chiming stopped, the door to the waiting room opened again, and the chamberlain reappeared. He bowed from the neck to the incoming Chancellor as she stood up, and he stepped into the room, allowing a footman to enter carrying a silver tray with crystal glasses and several crystal decanters of coloured liquids - some of juice and one of a brown liquor, it appeared.

“Madame Pagonis, His Imperial Majesty will receive you now.” the chamberlain said. He turned to Georges Pagonis. “Monsieur, I trust you and the children will be comfortable here.”

As the footman brought in the tray of drinks and sat them down, Agnes Pagonis stood and looked to her family.

“Wish me luck.” she said.

“Good luck!” replied her husband.

The incoming Chancellor smiled then looked to the chamberlain and followed him out of the waiting room into the corridor beyond, leaving her husband, children, the footman, and Claire, the Emperor’s Maiden, behind in the room with the extraordinary clock. She had little idea how many rooms there were which could be described as “the one with the extraordinary clock” but it was unlikely she would have to ask for directions anyway. The chamberlain moved her swiftly down the corridor into a processional of salons. Each doorway from one salon into the next was guarded by a pair of splendidly uniformed, towering Varangians, and each salon was sumptuously decorated and furnished with artistic relics of the last three centuries, and illuminated by large glazed windows which revealed breathtaking views of formal gardens and fountains outside. Agnes Pagonis took in none of it; the chamberlain’s pace was quick and even, and permitted no stopping and waiting.

The penultimate salon was filled with photographers bearing press passes, closely monitored by a palace official. They all took several photos of Agnes Pagonis entering the salon. The chamberlain’s progress halted in the middle of the salon, and he turned to the incoming Chancellor, as the palace official moved the photographers behind her.

“Madame,” the chamberlain said. “After I open the door and announce you, you will step inside. It is correct to then curtsey. Photography will be permitted. Once you rise, I will close the door. Your audience will be private. When His Majesty so indicates, I will open the door, and photography will be permitted from the threshold as you curtsey again. The photographers will withdraw, and you will withdraw from the Imperial Presence. Do you have any questions?”

Agnes Pagonis had been told all of this over the phone by the Protocol Officer before leaving the hotel, and wished she hadn’t been told it all again in front of members of the press, but nobody seemed to have any camera running or even to be taking notes, so she didn’t let it bother her. She nodded once. The chamberlain nodded, turned, and walked to the door. She followed after him, and the press followed after her, moving forward perhaps two metres. The chamberlain knocked the door using its ornate bronze knocker, waited precisely three seconds, then opened the door.

“Madame Agnes Pagonis.” the chamberlain announced, and stepped to one side, holding the door open.

Agnes Pagonis stepped into the final salon, and curtseyed. Standing across from her, in front of a silver-framed couch upholstered in imperial purple and embroidered with darker purple double-headed eagles, fleurs de lys, and crosses, below an oil painting of his ancestor Manuel V (the Frank) en famille the width of the entire wall, dressed in a dark suit with a purple tie and matching pocket square handkerchief, with grey turning to white hair and his customary granite gaze, was the Emperor of Pantocratoria. There was the promised flurry of photography.

“Welcome, Madame Pagonis.” the Emperor began, and gestured to the matching couch positioned at a right angle to his own. “Please, have a seat.”

The door closed on the photographers.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Agnes Pagonis replied, and took the indicated seat. If she hadn’t felt able to relax in the waiting room, she felt even less able to do so here. She smiled through the nerves at the Emperor, who had sat back down.

“Congratulations on the election result.” the Emperor began. “Sir Isaac has advised me to invite you to form the next Imperial Government. I accepted his resignation not long ago. I am appointing you Imperial Chancellor.”

The Emperor didn’t mention that his second son, Prince Constantine, had also so advised him, because that was very much outside the norm.

“Yes, Your Majesty, thank you.” Pagonis nodded.

“Coalitions have become increasingly common these last twenty years.” the Emperor continued. “Nevertheless, they have proven stable, and I trust your coalition will deliver stable government throughout the parliamentary term.”

“Yes, Sire, I believe we can.” Pagonis agreed.

“I understand that you were accompanied today by your family.” the Emperor said.

“Yes, Sire.” she replied. “Thank you for sending Claire to explain the clock to the children.”

The Emperor hadn’t the faintest idea who or what the Imperial Chancellor was talking about, but nodded graciously anyway as if he did.

“Will your family move into the official residence in New Rome?” the Emperor asked. “It may need some modifications to accommodate children. Modernisations. That would be very reasonable and within your discretion.”

“Yes, Sire, we’ll move. We haven’t yet discussed dates but we discussed it in the abstract before the election.” Pagonis replied.

“And that won’t be too disruptive to your husband’s work, I trust?” the Emperor asked. “I understand he’s an engineer.”

“No, Sire, it won’t be.” Pagonis replied, wondering whether the Emperor had asked questions about disruptions to the wives of any of her recent predecessors. “His firm already indicated he could transfer to its headquarters in the capital.”

“How flexible.” the Emperor remarked. “I feel I should say, madame, in case you had any doubt, that even though my son will be your Deputy Chancellor, I will only be advised by you. I will not use him as a proxy. Nor should you. I trust that is clear.”

“Yes, Sire.” Pagonis replied. She felt slightly relieved but didn’t feel the need to say it out loud.

“Excellent.” the Emperor said.

The Emperor stood. Understanding that her audience was reaching its end, Pagonis stood as well. The Emperor pulled on a purple silk cord with gold brocade. No sound was evident in the room, but the door soon opened. There was an array of flashes from the cameras of the awaiting photographers.

“Congratulations, Madame la Chancelière, and may God bless you.” the Emperor told Pagonis.

“Thank you, Sire.” the Imperial Chancellor replied, curtseying once again.

The chamberlain then stepped in front of the photographers with his arms spread wide, and they all stepped, back, set aside their cameras, and started to withdraw. A few moments later, so did Agnes Pagonis. The palace official who had accompanied the photographers led them away, and then the chamberlain turned to Pagonis.

“Madame la Chancelière, if you will follow me, I will reunite you with your family.” he told her.

“Thank you.” she replied.

The chamberlain led her back through the procession of salons into a corridor, then into another corridor back in the nineteenth century wing. The pair halted outside the waiting room door. The chamberlain opened the door, and announced her: “The Imperial Chancellor”

Inside the waiting room, the number of people had grown. They all stood up. The number of seats they had stood up from had also grown. Standing alongside Georges Pagonis were Prince Constantine and Princess Morgan. The Chancellor noted that her husband looked somewhat relieved to see her. Claire, the Emperor's Maiden, stood alongside Hélène Pagonis, two sides of what was evidently another interrupted conversation. Nicolas Pagonis stood awkwardly alongside a boy several years younger, Prince Isaac, the son of Prince Constantine and Princess Morgan, both positioned near the teens but closer to the clock.

“Madame la Chancelière,” Prince Constantine began, smiling. “Congratulations! We heard you had come with your family and we thought we would take the opportunity to meet them.”

“Your Imperial Highnesses…” Agnes Pagonis said, at once appreciative of the gesture but evidently surprised and perhaps a little disappointed that she could not yet relax. “How kind of you. Isn't it kind, Georges?”

“Yes.” Georges nodded. “I was just saying how unexpected a pleasure it was.”

“We are coalition partners, we should be friends too.” Constantine declared.

Agnes Pagonis gave the adults a smile which Georges knew to read differently than the Prince or Princess would have done.

“I remember my first time in the palace,” Morgan volunteered. “The clocks are really something.” She gave a small, slightly shy smile. “I do not know if they are more art than engineering.” She glanced briefly to Georges.

“I think both, madame.” Georges replied.

“Prince Isaac is seven, is he not?” the Chancellor asked.

“He is, Madame Chancellor,” Morgan answered.

“That’s this many,” Isaac interjected and held up eight fingers.

“One less, sweetie,” Morgan said and he corrected himself.

“Nicolas was the same age when I became leader.” Agnes observed.

“We should toast.” Constantine declared.

Over the other side of the room, Claire excused herself to Hélène and went unbidden to the tray of drinks. She poured four glasses of brandy, for there was no other alcoholic beverage on the tray, gathered the tray up, and carried it over to the adults, and waited silently. Constantine took two glasses from the tray, and gave one to Morgan and the other to Agnes, then took another glass for himself.

“Thank you.” Georges said to the Emperor's Maiden as he took a glass for himself.

“To the Imperial Chancellor!” Constantine toasted.

“The Imperial Chancellor,” Morgan said, raising her glass.

“The Imperial Chancellor,” Georges echoed, raising his glass.

Agnes Pagonis accepted the toast with good grace, sipped her brandy, immediately wondered how expensive it was, and pondered the nature of coalitions…

[Xirnium]

[A joint post with Pantocratoria.]

It was early evening, after Agnes Pagonis had been received by the Emperor and accepted his invitation to form a government, when the Prime Minister’s Office asked whether she might be available for a call. A time was settled between offices. 

Shortly after six, the Prime Minister’s staff placed the call through to the new Imperial Chancellor in New Rome. 

“Good evening, Madam Chancellor! Can you hear me clearly?” Prime Minister Eléanor zy Nelyâmnar said brightly. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you, Prime Minister, yes, I hear you clearly.” Agnes Pagonis replied from the other end of the call. 

Pagonis was still in a hotel suite in New Rome, with her chief of staff seated across from her at a small hotel room table, pushing a page across the table with some notes about the Pantocratoria/Xirnium relationship. In the adjoining room, her daughter Hélène’s face was buried in her phone. Georges and Nicolas were elsewhere.

“I wanted to speak to you personally this evening,” zy Nelyâmnar continued warmly. “I was very pleased to hear of your success. It is a significant result.” 

She leaned back slightly in the pale damask wing chair behind her walnut desk. “And hard won, Madam Chancellor. Sir Isaac was a formidable opponent.”

“Thank you, Prime Minister.” Pagonis smiled. “And yes, he was. I don’t think I can take all of the credit. Suffice it to say, I think there was a mood for change.”

Nelyâmnar smiled slightly. “Yes, I think that is true, Madam Chancellor. And I think the electorate responded to the constructive character of your campaign.”

She paused briefly. “There is every reason for our governments to work well together, and I hope they shall,” she continued. “Xirnium values her relationship with Pantocratoria, and I hope this will be an opportunity to build on it.”

“We’d certainly like to both broaden and deepen Pantocratoria’s relationship with Xirnium, Prime Minister.” Pagonis replied. “So you have a very willing partner. Perhaps we can arrange some discussions to explore ways we can build on our relationship in the near future?”

“I’m very glad to hear it, Madam Chancellor,” zy Nelyâmnar replied. “Yes, let us do that. It would be good to have our people begin speaking soon."

She glanced at the notes on the dark green calfskin surface of her desk.

“I think it’s in the regional interest, and certainly in Xirnium’s, that your government should get off to a strong start,” she said. “If there are matters on which it would be helpful to come to an understanding early, I hope you will not hesitate to say so.”

Across the desk, Annunziata Athuvârya, the Prime Minister’s Principal Private Secretary, nodded.

After a brief pause, zy Nelyâmnar added, “One matter I hope we may be able to discuss constructively, in due course, is the question of Xirnium’s possible accession to Nivelet.”

“An interesting prospect.” Pagonis answered. “I’d certainly be willing to discuss that with you, Prime Minister. May I ask, have you had any discussions along those lines with other Nivelet signatories? The, uh… Knootians in particular?”

“Yes, we have,” zy Nelyâmnar said. “We have had some preliminary discussions with other signatories, including the Knootians. They have been sufficiently positive that I thought it worth raising with you now.”

She paused, then smiled slightly. 

“But I am keeping you, Madam Chancellor. You have only just accepted His Majesty’s invitation to form a government. The evening should belong to you and your family.” 

“Thank you, Prime Minister, you’re not keeping me at all, I appreciate the call.” Pagonis replied.

Nelyâmnar nodded. “I only wanted you to hear from me how pleased I am for you, and to say that I hope we will have many opportunities to speak, in these first weeks and after.” 

“I’m sure we will.” replied Pagonis.

Nelyâmnar glanced at her Principal Private Secretary. 

“I hope we will speak again soon. Thank you for taking the call, Madam Chancellor. Good evening, Madam Chancellor.”

“Good evening, Prime Minister, thank you for your call, I look forward to our next one!” Pagonis concluded.

There was a drawn-out silence while zy Nelyâmnar searched for the button to end the call. Athuvârya leaned across the desk and pressed it for her.