The Royal Household[INVITE ONLY|MT|IC]

[Maristela]

OOC:

RPs/Storefronts connected:
Foreign Children for the Queen?

RPs/Storefronts disconnected:
A Nation Divided
Into the Dustbin

RPs/Storefronts to be plugged in:
The International Slave Market

This RP concerns the lives of my nation's ruling monarch, his/her family, and everything else within the limits of the Royal Compound, a real estate compound built for my nation's royal family.

This RP may and might also be connected to my other past and present RPs.

All questions, proposals, ideas, and etc. are to be TGed to me.

!NO POSTING HERE!
If not invited.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Queen's Study

Her Majesty Queen Anne is expecting many things to happen today as everything is not in order as it should be. Despite the nation has been experiencing peace and prosperity for the past year of the Queen's reign, she is facing a political dilemma regarding her - , as well as those others who will come after, - power to give royal prerogatives - , depending to her and future monarchs' own discretion, - to the members of the Cabinet of Maristela and many other high-ranking authorities in the reins of government after one of the cabinet members, Minister of Foreign Affairs Bailey Lambert, threatened and attempted to assassinate Her Excellency Prime Minister Skye Sanders and a fellow cabinet member, Minister of Defence Alfred Pratt, because both refused to give in to the royal prerogative of the Foreign Minister given to him by the Queen.

The Foreign Minister demanded the Prime Minister and the Minster of Defence for complete obedience and confidence to him in order to conquer a country called "the Democratic Republic of New Grestin", which was being terrorized by Christian fanatics, through annexation or invasion before being taken over. Failing to do so, he then considered to kill his two colleagues in hopes that the Queen will swiftly appoint him as Acting Prime Minister and Defence Minister.

The Queen only gave the prerogative to him as she believed he, the other members of the Maristelan Cabinet, and the rest of the government, after centuries of absolute rule of her family, they can finally act on their own judgement.

Now, the Queen has almost lost entirely her faith to the government and is trying to forget the issue regarding the Foreign Minister's crimes against the Crown, her crown, as that matter has already been resolved; The Queen granted the Foreign Minister royal pardon and so, he, along with his family, was never seen again.

"I wonder where that man has gone to now...His family too...Gone with the wind."

[Osterlais]

Miss Kerdi Mai Onkan arrived in Maristela all alone. All she had with her was a single suitcase, filled mostly with clothes. Kerdi Mai did not understand why she had been given this opportunity, but all those who had talked to her had impressed on her the importance that she make the best of it. They had even provided her with a new dress, which she now wore.

She knew little of Maristela, and was afraid to be on her own in a strange land. However, she had learned to rely on herself, and calmly continued on with her journey. Fortunately, she was met at the airport, for she would have never found the palace by herself. The trip had given her time to think, and Kerdi Mai thought of her last guardians, an old couple. They were stuck in their ways, which usually did not include a child, and were reserved. However, Kerdi Mai had always thought they cared in their own way. She was sad when they were gone, but her case worker didn't seem to care, he was rather too busy trying to find the young woman a new place.

The young lady's thoughts turned philosophical enroute to the palace. Without home or a family, what was she leaving behind? Her country? Did such a thing matter? She could have a new country now, and perhaps a new family and a new home too. It all depended... on what? She didn't know. Kerdi Mai knew she would be judged, but on what? Anxiety set in, and she resolved to pay extra attention to her manners.

[Maristela]

Snip

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Main Entrance

In the steps of the Royal Palace's main entrance, Queen Anne stands waiting for the arrival of one of the prospective heirs. Beside the Queen is her private secretary, Sir Christopher Hollingsberry, and Her Maristelan Majesty's Bodyguard of the Honourable Corps of Gentlemen at Arms, Scott Tomlinson, also waiting with and guarding his sovereign at the same time.

"Your Majesty, excuse and forgive me as I would like to ask a question, a question regarding of the girl's age."

"Why, I thought you have read it already? You are after all the first one who reads my letters before being passed to me...Depending on how it is sensitive, important and urgent of course, it will be directly sent to me."

"I know ma'am, I just cannot confirm that as it is not clear to me but, they did mentioned in the letter that she was thirteen...Probably she is still in her adolescent years."

"She was...Or she is thirteen?"

"That's the right question I'm looking for but, thank you ma'am for answering only some ofquestions and sorry for doing so, we will know later on once she arrives...Once again, I'm very sorry ma'am for not following the royal protocols...I should set an example as I'm the senior operational member of the Royal Household."

"Please, it is fine, I believe that those silly protocols should not be still strictly followed...It does not fit with today's society, which is a more free society...So, try to loosen up a bit."

Her bodyguard jumped in surprise to suddenly hear his handheld transceiver emit words and static combined.

"-The motorcade carrying the guest of the crown has passed through the main gate, over-"

"Roger over."

-"Roger out."-

"Mister Tomlinson, I believe I heard that the girl is now within the premises of the compound, am I right?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good."

The motorcade, composed of a stretched Volvo S80, escorted by the Maristelan Crown Security Service in BMW X5, BMW 5-Series and Mercedes-Benz E-Class models, drove and stopped at the roundabout before the Palace's main entrance. Two of the five footmen standing behind the Queen approached the Volvo and opened the door to where the Queen's guest is in the car.

The Palace is surrounded with pergolas, park terraces, swimming pools, pavilions and platforms. There are magnificent views from the Palace towards the ridge of Senex Senis Hill, Acrewood Forest, Defendo and Maristela Mountain.

The ground floor reception rooms are very beautifully appointed. The Formal Entrance Hall is paved with stone and decorated with copies of medieval frescoes from the Serbian Monasteries of Dechani and Sopochani. The Blue Drawing Room is decorated in the Baroque style; the Golden Drawing Room and Dining Room are in the Renaissance style with impressive wood carved ceilings and bronze chandeliers. These rooms are ornately decorated with paintings of old masters and Renaissance painted Florentine Cassoni from the Royal Collections. The Greater and Lesser Libraries are decorated in the same manner.

The Queen has long, darker blonde hair and topped by a white beret. Her eyes are green and she wears glasses. Her outfit consists of a Royal Maristelan Navy service uniform double-breasted tunic without any rank pattern or ribbon placement, with a matching skirt, a flower-patterned hoodie and lower light brown boots; her private secretary has slicked, short blond hair and hazel eyes. He is dressed in a black lounge suit with a red string tie; her body guard is a tall, muscular man, with slicked blond hair and blue eyes. He is wearing a 1840s Maristelan Dragoon Guards officer skirted black coat with Garter black red cuffs and facings embroidered with the Maristela coat of arms. In addition, a helmet with white swan feather plumes and a cavalry sword are worn; the footmen are wearing tunics in the Royal Livery colours of red and black.

[Maristela]

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Queen's Study

Queen Anne spent the entire morning on writing a draft containing a law. A law about adding "Her Majesty's" as a prefix of the provinces and the overseas territories to increase the sense of the Queen's omnipresence there and about adjusting the colonial political system, in contrast to the current colonial political system, that will benefit the provinces and the overseas to secure the Queen's subjects' loyalty there to the Maristelan Crown and Maristela, equalizing the status of them with the nation by allowing them to have representation in the Parliament of Maristela, abolishing regulation of goods between them and the nation thus establishing free trade, freedom of movement for all Maristelan Subjects in the both the nation's colonial possessions and the nation, taxes will be levied in percentages similar to how the taxes are levied in the nation, so that they may call themselves Maristelans without having any doubt that they are not.

"Your Majesty?"

The Queen's private secretary, Christopher Hollingsberry, interrupted her as he bowed from the waist to her while avoiding eye contact with her, following the Royal Etiquette and Protocol and out of respect as well. The Queen looked at her private secretary

"What is it Sir Hollingsberry?"

The Queen's private secretary approached her slowly before bowing from the neck and handing over a dossier.

"I have received a missive ma'am, a missive concerning Your Majesty's search for children to be Your Majesty's own."

"And? This folder is not just containing a certain person's missive but, a collection of a certain country's information."

"The dossier contains everything I have learned about the sender of the missive's country ma'am."

"Why is that relevant?"

"I find their country somewhat rather disturbing ma'am."

"As far I have read...It has its peculiarities but, the country is not that peculiar...Is their religion bothering you?"

"I am not familiar nor I have heard of their religion...But, it is not their religion that bothers me ma'am."

"Then what is it?"

"Their government ma'am."

"What is it about their government?"

"Your Majesty can tell with the words written by the sender."

The Queen immediately looked away from her private secretary and read the missive and the other contents of the dossier thoroughly.

"I see what you mean, they the most horrid, no, immoral form of human population control."

"Indeed ma'am, their monarch does not seem to care at all...And, somehow, they still respect her...Ignoring her sinful acts ma'am."

The Queen placed the dossier on her desk before looking back at her private secretary.

"The Dominion of Akktur.....Sadly, we cannot do anything as our concerns are bound to our own, to our country...However, we may indirectly do so...Even then...It can be considered as an act of Imperialism, which I strongly oppose.....Anyways, the subject is about the child which the sender is applying to me and not their country...I will personally write the missive in reply to his."

"But ma'am...Your Majesty...W-"

"Please, Sir Hollingsberry, this discussion is done and that you will wait for me outside to give you the missive..."

"Well then ma'am."

The Queen returned her attention to what she was busy on earlier. The Queen suddenly turned her gaze back again to her private secretary.

".....I hope this will be more promising than the past prospects."

".....I know Your Majesty's disappointed with the prospect from Osterlais.....I believe this time will be different ma'am.

Her private secretary bowed from the neck until he approached the study's door which was then opened by a footman - who has been tasked to open or close the door when someone is coming in or out - .

[Akktur]

Salatik,
Akktur Dominion


“I can’t… leave,” the young girl said, her eyes were wide at the very suggestion of it, from their place in the courtyard, her eyes could easily spot the tall wall that stood around the Children’s Home, it served as their only layer of protection against the outside world, which she had faint memories of, cruel and vicious was the outside world. “Who will see to the flowers? And little Unkandai is always forgetting to wash his hands, who will remind him?” The older man smiled at her, and placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, he had grown to appreciate her as a girl who had grown in wisdom and in stature. Caretaker to the other children when he and his Brothers could not be present with them, she was widely considered the little mother of the younglings, and rightfully so.

“I will see to the flowers in your absence, and also to Unkandai’s hand washing,” the monk replied warmly, “I know that it can be a scary thing leaving these walls which have nurtured and protected you,” in the center of the property there was a large mansion where a wealthy man had once lived- upon his death he donated his estate to the Cult of Sokkar, and they had turned the premises into an orphanage. However, as more and more children came to live with them, the entirety of the home had been filled, stripped, converted to more dorm rooms, filled again. Today, almost all of the land was filled with tents and lean-tos to accommodate the ever growing number of children. The parts of the land that had not become, effectively, a compact slum where used as gardens where they grew as much food as they could, forming the staple of their diets.

“I can’t board a plane,” the girl said, moving a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear before crossing her arms, “I don’t have any papers,” she stated. The word carried a lot of weight in the Dominion, here, papers were the passport into life, and without them it was nearly impossible for one to do anything. Healthcare was only provided for those with papers; education was only provided for those with papers, free travel required papers, staying in hotels required papers, and gods help you if you were stopped on the street by the Constabulary or the Dominion Enforcers without papers. Even forgetting them at home was a crime of some merit.

“We’ve spoken with the government, they’ve agreed to permit you leave the country and we’ve arranged transport,” the man responded, it wasn’t about the papers he knew- this had been her home for so long, and even if what existed beyond these walls was so many times better than what existed within them, how did someone leave what they had grown to know as home? “The woman you are going to meet is a very powerful woman, a very wealthy woman- she can provide for you far better than we can here; imagine, a meal every day, being able to study, having a mother who cares about you.”

Eventually the Brother had managed to coax her into a tearful goodbye with the other children at the orphanage, though she promised she would return eventually, and she swore that she would make her best efforts to write to them, despite the fact that she was not overly literate. She was led out of the gates, and carefully escorted through the crowd surrounding them- there were always protests just outside the gates, locals angry at the Children’s Home for keeping so many, they were seen as a major drain on limited food supplies, despite the fact that they mostly ate what was grown on the grounds- it was more the principle of the matter. They had first gotten the seaman on a small fishing trawler to agree to take the girl into the port of a neighboring nation, from where they had found volunteers to escort her to the airport that would eventually take her to Maristela City, her ultimate destination.

It was a frightened little girl that emerged in the Maristela airport, nearly an hour late due to a flight delay, she was dressed only in a simple blue gown falling from her shoulders to her ankles without any style or decoration, a small shawl covered her shoulders and her head- it had once been red but had since faded to pink, and on her feet where simple sandals made by hand at the Children’s Home. Her light brown eyes glanced around at massive modern airport with wonder, she was told that much of the Akkuti lands were like what she had seen coming in, but she had never been to the Akkuti nation and capital of the Dominion, though this was hardly surprising considering her lack of papers made it impossible to move about the nation. She was greeted by a nice man, who seemed only slightly surprised when she informed him that all she had she wore on her now, and soon she had been whisked away to a number of fine vehicles forming a motorcade- she could hardly fathom the extreme luxury of the things, she’d never been in such a vehicle before. She stared in quiet awe at the beauty of the city as they drove through it, eventually arriving at the Palace, she couldn’t imagine that this was the destination, it was far too large, far too magnificent for one such as herself. What had she gotten herself into?

[Maristela]

OOC:

Salatik,
Akktur Dominion


“I can’t… leave,” the young girl said, her eyes were wide at the very suggestion of it, from their place in the courtyard, her eyes could easily spot the tall wall that stood around the Children’s Home, it served as their only layer of protection against the outside world, which she had faint memories of, cruel and vicious was the outside world. “Who will see to the flowers? And little Unkandai is always forgetting to wash his hands, who will remind him?” The older man smiled at her, and placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder, he had grown to appreciate her as a girl who had grown in wisdom and in stature. Caretaker to the other children when he and his Brothers could not be present with them, she was widely considered the little mother of the younglings, and rightfully so.

“I will see to the flowers in your absence, and also to Unkandai’s hand washing,” the monk replied warmly, “I know that it can be a scary thing leaving these walls which have nurtured and protected you,” in the center of the property there was a large mansion where a wealthy man had once lived- upon his death he donated his estate to the Cult of Sokkar, and they had turned the premises into an orphanage. However, as more and more children came to live with them, the entirety of the home had been filled, stripped, converted to more dorm rooms, filled again. Today, almost all of the land was filled with tents and lean-tos to accommodate the ever growing number of children. The parts of the land that had not become, effectively, a compact slum where used as gardens where they grew as much food as they could, forming the staple of their diets.

“I can’t board a plane,” the girl said, moving a strand of her dark brown hair behind her ear before crossing her arms, “I don’t have any papers,” she stated. The word carried a lot of weight in the Dominion, here, papers were the passport into life, and without them it was nearly impossible for one to do anything. Healthcare was only provided for those with papers; education was only provided for those with papers, free travel required papers, staying in hotels required papers, and gods help you if you were stopped on the street by the Constabulary or the Dominion Enforcers without papers. Even forgetting them at home was a crime of some merit.

“We’ve spoken with the government, they’ve agreed to permit you leave the country and we’ve arranged transport,” the man responded, it wasn’t about the papers he knew- this had been her home for so long, and even if what existed beyond these walls was so many times better than what existed within them, how did someone leave what they had grown to know as home? “The woman you are going to meet is a very powerful woman, a very wealthy woman- she can provide for you far better than we can here; imagine, a meal every day, being able to study, having a mother who cares about you.”

Eventually the Brother had managed to coax her into a tearful goodbye with the other children at the orphanage, though she promised she would return eventually, and she swore that she would make her best efforts to write to them, despite the fact that she was not overly literate. She was led out of the gates, and carefully escorted through the crowd surrounding them- there were always protests just outside the gates, locals angry at the Children’s Home for keeping so many, they were seen as a major drain on limited food supplies, despite the fact that they mostly ate what was grown on the grounds- it was more the principle of the matter. They had first gotten the seaman on a small fishing trawler to agree to take the girl into the port of a neighboring nation, from where they had found volunteers to escort her to the airport that would eventually take her to Maristela City, her ultimate destination.

It was a frightened little girl that emerged in the Maristela airport, nearly an hour late due to a flight delay, she was dressed only in a simple blue gown falling from her shoulders to her ankles without any style or decoration, a small shawl covered her shoulders and her head- it had once been red but had since faded to pink, and on her feet where simple sandals made by hand at the Children’s Home. Her light brown eyes glanced around at massive modern airport with wonder, she was told that much of the Akkuti lands were like what she had seen coming in, but she had never been to the Akkuti nation and capital of the Dominion, though this was hardly surprising considering her lack of papers made it impossible to move about the nation. She was greeted by a nice man, who seemed only slightly surprised when she informed him that all she had she wore on her now, and soon she had been whisked away to a number of fine vehicles forming a motorcade- she could hardly fathom the extreme luxury of the things, she’d never been in such a vehicle before. She stared in quiet awe at the beauty of the city as they drove through it, eventually arriving at the Palace, she couldn’t imagine that this was the destination, it was far too large, far too magnificent for one such as herself. What had she gotten herself into?

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Main Entrance

The Majordomo of the Royal Palace, Jaden Cartwright, and the Butler of the Formal Entrance Hall, Leon Leach, with six bodyguards from each of the three units of the Sovereign's Bodyguard, standing by waiting for the motorcade carrying Raihala to arrive instead of Queen Anne as she went to the Maristelan Parliament to announce her latest royal proclamation and to handle other important government affairs.

"Her Majesty the Queen seems to be in a hurry when Her Majesty the Queen left...Was it about the protests going on outside Parliament this afternoon?"

"Was that even a protest? That was horse play! Tomfoolery, fooling around, clowning, buffoonery, all of its synonyms that you can think of! Talk about moral decency."

"Times are changing...These children do not understand what they want though, look at the social classification of "Westernized" countries, they are the worst."

"The flaws of democracy...Our monarchy upholds religion, morality, and freedom - reasonable freedom."

"I heard rumours about Her Majesty the Queen planning to proclaim the nation as a constitutional monarchy, near the end of Her Majesty's reign."

"Rumours are rumours, they will stay that way...I doubt Her Majesty would entrust the nation to a bunch of corrupted, bloodsucking aristocrats...The nobility can no longer nose into politics thanks to Her Majesty's proclamation last week."

"They already are rich but they still want to get richer, richer than Her Majesty the Queen! They should lay off their hands on government...Dominating the private sector is enough...Beneficial though as their seemingly never-ending investments fuel the nation's businesses, including their own so technically, they are contributing to the economy...Even then, politics are for all of Her Majesty's subjects, for all of us.""

"Indeed Mister Cartwright, indeed."

The motorcade drove and stopped at the roundabout before the Palace's main entrance. one of the three footmen standing behind the Royal Palace Majordomo - who has been tasked to do what is needed to be done for Queen Anne's guest - approached the Volvo and opened the door to where the guest is in the car.

The Royal Palace Majordomo has thick eyebrows, slicked back brown hair, and green eyes, as well as an adhesive bandage across his nose. The Royal Palace Majordomo is wearing a black lounge suit with a blue string tie; the bodyguards are wearing 1840s Maristelan Dragoon Guards officer skirted black coat with Garter black red cuffs and facings embroidered with the Maristela coat of arms. In addition, a helmet with white swan feather plumes and a cavalry sword are worn; Royal red double breasted tunics with purple facings and stripes and gold lace ornaments, together with a red cross-belt, red knee-breeches, flat hat, and black shoes with red, blue and white rosettes. The gold-embroidered emblems on the back and front of the coats consist of the crowned Maristelan Blood rose, the shamrock and the thistle, the motto "For Our Lady, Star of the Sea", and the "regal" initial of the reigning sovereign (currently AR for "Anne Regina"). They are armed with a Crown Armoury sword and a halberd; court dresses of blue with gold embroidery, and cocked hats with a plume of dark cock's feathers; the footmen are wearing tunics in the Royal Livery colours of red and black.

[Nuridia]

Alright dear Anne, be on your best behavior and remember everything you've been taught." "And be careful, make sure that you write to us every day." Hermione Fitzgerald was helping one of her students get ready for a trip to Maristela, where she could possibly be adopted by the Queen herself and made heir. Mostly, she would have a better life there than being with a bunch of other girls could provide for her. "Yes ma'am, I promise." Anne said, her red hair pulled back into a neat Dutch braid and tied off with a blue and gold bow. She was dressed in red, navy and black, the colors of House Maristela, the family she hopefully would one day gain. Around her neck, brown like the rest of her skin was an amulet with half a golden sun and half a silver moon, her house amulet that had once been her mother's. It was the only thing she had left of her family and a few tears leaked from her eyes at the memory that she had quickly wiped away. Hermione saw her cry and hugged the girl. "It's alright love, you'll do great." "I'm sure the Queen will love you and even if you aren't chosen you'll make some fine friends." Anne hugged back her teacher/mother figure. "Bye Miss Fitz, I'll miss you." Anne said, picking up her suitcases. Meanwhile there was a group of girls waiting outside to greet her, her friends Kary, Sarah and Orianthi, a lovely Greek who was orphaned. "Bye Annie, take care!" "And remember to write to us won't you?" "Of course I will!" "Goodbye all, I'll miss you!" Anne said, hugging her friends tightly before the chauffeur announced her car was ready. Anne and Hermione had gotten in together, waving to the other girls until they disappeared form view. Anne then got to the airport and boarded her plane, giving Hermione one last hug and waving until she was gone. As Anne sat on the plane, she wondered how this would go. She hoped it would go well for her, and hopefully she would have a new permanent family she could call her own. This was the first time she had ever been on a plane by herself and to be honest the child was a bit frightened. The child clutched her necklace and said a quick prayer as her plane landed, Anne stepped out of the plane with all the confidence she could muster and saw a car with a man in it that said she would be driven to the royal palace. Anne stepped inside with her things and looked in wonder at Maristela as they headed to the royal compound, her destination. What would the Queen and secretary think of her? Would they like her, would they get along? Anne did what she always did, held her head up and hoped for the best.

[Maristela]

OOC:

Alright dear Anne, be on your best behavior and remember everything you've been taught." "And be careful, make sure that you write to us every day." Hermione Fitzgerald was helping one of her students get ready for a trip to Maristela, where she could possibly be adopted by the Queen herself and made heir. Mostly, she would have a better life there than being with a bunch of other girls could provide for her. "Yes ma'am, I promise." Anne said, her red hair pulled back into a neat Dutch braid and tied off with a blue and gold bow. She was dressed in red, navy and black, the colors of House Maristela, the family she hopefully would one day gain. Around her neck, brown like the rest of her skin was an amulet with half a golden sun and half a silver moon, her house amulet that had once been her mother's. It was the only thing she had left of her family and a few tears leaked from her eyes at the memory that she had quickly wiped away. Hermione saw her cry and hugged the girl. "It's alright love, you'll do great." "I'm sure the Queen will love you and even if you aren't chosen you'll make some fine friends." Anne hugged back her teacher/mother figure. "Bye Miss Fitz, I'll miss you." Anne said, picking up her suitcases. Meanwhile there was a group of girls waiting outside to greet her, her friends Kary, Sarah and Orianthi, a lovely Greek who was orphaned. "Bye Annie, take care!" "And remember to write to us won't you?" "Of course I will!" "Goodbye all, I'll miss you!" Anne said, hugging her friends tightly before the chauffeur announced her car was ready. Anne and Hermione had gotten in together, waving to the other girls until they disappeared form view. Anne then got to the airport and boarded her plane, giving Hermione one last hug and waving until she was gone. As Anne sat on the plane, she wondered how this would go. She hoped it would go well for her, and hopefully she would have a new permanent family she could call her own. This was the first time she had ever been on a plane by herself and to be honest the child was a bit frightened. The child clutched her necklace and said a quick prayer as her plane landed, Anne stepped out of the plane with all the confidence she could muster and saw a car with a man in it that said she would be driven to the royal palace. Anne stepped inside with her things and looked in wonder at Maristela as they headed to the royal compound, her destination. What would the Queen and secretary think of her? Would they like her, would they get along? Anne did what she always did, held her head up and hoped for the best.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Main Entrance

The Royal Palace Majordomo Cartwright and Formal Entrance Hall Butler Leach, with six bodyguards from each of the three units of the Sovereign's Bodyguard, standing by waiting for the motorcade carrying Anne Bronn to arrive instead of Queen Anne or her private secretary, Sir Hollingsberry, as both are in the Maristelan Parliament, discussing and planning for a solution for the Maristelan succession crisis of 2011.

"Her Majesty the Queen must be stressed with all that is happening...First time Parliament questioned Her Majesty, in such a manner."

"Questioned? Treachery is what they have done...Her Majesty the Queen may not be above God, but Her Majesty the Queen is above the law...Her Majesty the Queen is the law."

"'Her Majesty the Queen is the law indeed.....From God the King, from the King the Law'...An old saying back in the times of enlightenment, back when we had a King."

"...In these times, it is 'From God the Queen, from the Queen the Law?' Sounds somewhat peculiar."

"...'From the Law the Nobility, from the Nobility the Politicians'.....That sounds more peculiar...And somewhat entertaining."

"Correction! From the Law the Reptile-shape-shifting Nobility, from the Reptile-shape-shifting Nobility the Corrupted Politicians!"

".....Seriously...Is that supposed to be funny?"

"Is it not? Never-mind! Let us just wait and welcome Miss Bronn as Her Majesty the Queen said so."

The motorcade drove and stopped at the roundabout before the Palace's main entrance. One of the three footmen standing behind the Majordomo approached the Volvo and opened the door to where the guest is in the car.

"I hope this time will be different..."

"Wish, don't hope...It has been three times already."

"...I fear this will be the fourth...If God wills it."

[Nuridia]

Anne turned when the door on her side was opened and he was dressed in the same colors she was, the royal livery no doubt. She dipped her head to him in thanks as she got out of the car with her suitcases in tow. When her feet landed on the sidewalk in front of the compound, she looked up at the palace structure. It was impressive and quite large, she actually had never seen anything like it before save her queen's palace when she was five. After she had looked upon it for a while, she blushed in embarrassment to realize that she was staring and looked down to see two gentlemen waiting to greet her. One had thick eyebrows and a cut nose and she walked until she was a few feet away from them and didn't know whether she should curtsy or not. They would probably take of fence seeing as she could already tell they weren't royalty so she settled for bowing her head to them in greeting. "Gentlemen." she said, her Nuridian accent prominent. "I am grateful that you two could wait in such earnest to greet me."

[Maristela]

OOC:

Anne turned when the door on her side was opened and he was dressed in the same colors she was, the royal livery no doubt. She dipped her head to him in thanks as she got out of the car with her suitcases in tow. When her feet landed on the sidewalk in front of the compound, she looked up at the palace structure. It was impressive and quite large, she actually had never seen anything like it before save her queen's palace when she was five. After she had looked upon it for a while, she blushed in embarrassment to realize that she was staring and looked down to see two gentlemen waiting to greet her. One had thick eyebrows and a cut nose and she walked until she was a few feet away from them and didn't know whether she should curtsy or not. They would probably take of fence seeing as she could already tell they weren't royalty so she settled for bowing her head to them in greeting. "Gentlemen." she said, her Nuridian accent prominent. "I am grateful that you two could wait in such earnest to greet me."

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Main Entrance

Majordomo Cartwright bowed from the waist with his right hand against his chest.

"Greetings Miss Bronn, I am Jaden Cartwright, the Majordomo of the Royal Palace, the highest person of Her Majesty's household staff here, in the Palace, I act on behalf of Her Majesty the Queen in affairs concerning her residence, this residence, as well as Her Majesty's self.....This is one of my colleagues, Mister Leon Leach, the Butler of the Formal Entrance Hall."

Formal Entrance Hall Butler Leach bowed from the waist with his right hand against his chest.

"Greetings Miss Bronn...Wel-"

"On behalf of Her Majesty the Queen, welcome to the Kingdom of Maristela...Please follow us and kindly let the Palace footmen take charge of your belongings Miss Bronn."

The Majordomo was approached by the Formal Entrance Hall Butler, leaning to the Majordomo's ear.

"What was that for?!"

"Nothing...To correct and make you look like an idiot."

"Ho-...Wh-...Ah...Gah!"

The Formal Entrance Hall, resplendent in its decorations and ornaments with its yellow walls, a Steinway baby grand piano, black and white checkered floor tiles, the portraits of the past monarchs and deceased members of the House of Maristela, and a stairway of olden wood.

"Apologies Miss Bronn as Her Majesty the Queen is quite...Busy at the moment, so you will have to wait in the Blue Drawing Room, to entertain yourself as you do...Several of the Queen's courtiers will be there."

Upon entering the Blue Drawing Room, a group of men and women greeted the Majordomo, the Formal Entrance Hall Butler, and Anne Bronn with a bow from the neck with their right hands against their chests.

"Miss Bronn, Mister Maximilian Moench, the Chapelmaster; Missus Carole Allaire, the Cup-bearer; Lord High Steward of the Royal Household, Ernest Charpentier; Mister Ansel Flamand, the Doorward."

Chapelmaster Moench is a tall, thin young man with slicked back blonde hair and blue eyes, and is wearing a black lounge suit with a blue string tie; Cup-bearer Allaire is a middle age woman of small build wearing a long, plain, dark-coloured dress, a black skirt, a white belt, a white blouse, and black shoes, with a white wimple, covering her head and neck; Lord High Steward Charpentier is a tall, stout old man with a slicked back gray hair and green eyes, and is wearing a black lounge suit with a blue tie; Doorward Flamand is a muscular young man, with slicked back black hair and brown eyes, and is wearing a Royal Maristelan Army service uniform composing of a black beret, superimposed by the Royal coat of arms of the Kingdom of Maristela and a brown single-breasted tunic with an aiguillette on the right of his shoulder.

"They will keep you company until Her Majesty the Queen arrives.....As we are going to attend to other affairs so, Miss Bronn, please excuse us...We will meet again with Mister Leach later on."

The Majordomo and the Formal Entrance Hall Butler bowed from their necks as they left, leaving Anne Bronn in the Drawing Room with the courtiers.

[Nuridia]

Anne looked around and curtsied to the men, then chuckled at their little conversations. "Thank you Mr. Cartwright, and you good steward for your assistance." She was escorted to the Royal Drawing Room where two of the courtiers were waiting for her as the majordomo explained she would wait for the Queen here. "I understand, thank you good sirs." Anne said, looking around the elegant room and at the two men that were standing with her. "Sirs, are there any books around here that I can read while waiting for her majesty?" the redheaded eleven year old said. "Any old ones will do, though sciences and languages are my favorite." "I'd be most grateful if I could be lent a few volumes to pass the time with if you two don't mind." "I've never read any books from Maristela before and figured now would be as good a time as any to start." "I've brought some myself and would unpack them but I've read them all before and dread then making a mess of the parlor as these suitcases are full and took a dreadful amount of time to close." the child said to the courtiers. She then spotted a Maristelan flag inscribed with the Royal Motto. "For Our Lady, Star of the Sea." Anne said carefully, pronouncing the motto loud enough for the courtiers to hear as she read from the flag. The child's language lessons came flooding back into her mind, and such a bright child couldn't resist the opportunity to show off her knowledge, but of course she did it politely without any airs. Anne turned to the cupbearer and the blond gentleman to speak to them. "Correct me if I am wrong, but I was just thinking of your motto." "Your country's name, Maristela." "If I am not mistaken, it comes from the Latin phrase maris stella meaning "star of the sea", one of the many monikers of the blessed Virgin Mary." "Sometimes the Holy Lady is known as Maria Stella or Maris Stellae which also means star of the sea, does it not?" Anne asked the adults, wondering if she was correct.

[The greater Vakolicci Haven]

"Well it's better for us whichever way," Alena said, grabbing Joanna's arm. The 13-year old turned to look into the eyes of her best friend, who was chatting at the fast rate that only a Celari teenager could possibly manage.
"Because if you come back," she said, "We'll see you again. If you don't come back, you're on the fasttrack to becoming a queen."
"A queen of some tiny nation noone's heard of," she countered. "When they had me studying Maristela, I couldn't help thinking that I was studying somewhere that it's a good thing noone's heard of." She looked around the airport before hushing her voice down to a whisper.
"It's...religious." she said the world as if it was a dirty thing that noone would ever want to think about.
"Are you sure?" Alena asked her. "Actually religious?"
"Yes. Something called 'Roman Catholicism." She finished as her friend started to laugh beside her.
"Oh I heard about them. They're that crazy cult that thinks that bread and wine turns into some dead guy. At least their'll be funny."
"I Suppose---"
"Joanna," a growling voice seemed to roar. It was General Legorde, walking with Alex Gordavris. Nothing more friendly than a big white thing in power armor she reflected.
"You must go!" he growled in that same monotone he used when ordering that people be executed. "The aircraft is almost ready to depart."
"Bye," Joanna said, embracing her friend. "See you soon."

And then it was off into the expensive interior of a Celari-designed plane.

The plane itself was the cause of a major argument. Following from the Celari diplomatic traddition, in which diplomats travelled escorted by what looked like half the navy in an effort to show Celeria off, Lord Gordavris was insisting that his young charge travel in a rather old battleship of the Gordavris clan Navy, the 'Pride of war.' Joanna had, however, reminded Gordavris that she was atempting to show herself oooff as a good potential daughter, and from the tone of the communication they had received, she doubted that the queen was one of the types who believed that young girls captaining thousands of tonnes of metal armed with very precise weaponry was a good plan.

And so, it was the aircraft that Gordavris had put her in. The aircraft was enormous, almost like a cruise ship in the air. 'Rendos future' had been comitioned only 3 months before her parents had died: ironically when the aircraft Rendos Future was replacing crashed into the Selca ocean.
But now she was ready to take off, and was enjoying a fine Celari whiskey, at a table, while a slave read out her newsfor the day. She was Celari, she reflected, and Celari by definition were either very very rich, or very very poor. She was not poor.

After 5 hours in the air, she was getting tired, and curled up on one of the double beds that had been placed in the sumptuous passenger cabins, only to be woken up by a the pilot over the intercom, informing her that she needed to get into a chair with a seatbelt on it in order to land safely.
Rendos sat up iritably and hit the intercom with a definite force.
"Cabin B to Bridge. I do not need to do anything, this is my aircraft. Out."
No further protests were heard from the captain as she took half an hours rest and was awoken by the small jolt of landing.
"We have landed," came the unnecisary call of the pilot.

---

The car had been provided for her by the clans, and it was not as she had expected. It was a large limozine, with a smiling driver, an ample supply of alcohol, and a very well-stocked security system. On the roof was emblazened in gold 'Kondura vehicles. Luxury courtecy of the Superior state.'
The 'Superior state.' The official pretitle of Celeria, guaranteed to annoy every foreigner. Joanna groaned as she got in, and the unspeaking driver proceeded to make his way towards the pallace, slowing down to allow what counted as 'Royal security' to come in around them.

[Maristela]

OOC:

I do not see a reason why would my country's national flag would be in the Drawing Room as the room is where visitors may be entertained and my country's royal motto stitched on the National Flag but, I will consider this.

Anne looked around and curtsied to the men, then chuckled at their little conversations. "Thank you Mr. Cartwright, and you good steward for your assistance." She was escorted to the Royal Drawing Room where two of the courtiers were waiting for her as the majordomo explained she would wait for the Queen here. "I understand, thank you good sirs." Anne said, looking around the elegant room and at the two men that were standing with her. "Sirs, are there any books around here that I can read while waiting for her majesty?" the redheaded eleven year old said. "Any old ones will do, though sciences and languages are my favorite." "I'd be most grateful if I could be lent a few volumes to pass the time with if you two don't mind." "I've never read any books from Maristela before and figured now would be as good a time as any to start." "I've brought some myself and would unpack them but I've read them all before and dread then making a mess of the parlor as these suitcases are full and took a dreadful amount of time to close." the child said to the courtiers. She then spotted a Maristelan flag inscribed with the Royal Motto. "For Our Lady, Star of the Sea." Anne said carefully, pronouncing the motto loud enough for the courtiers to hear as she read from the flag. The child's language lessons came flooding back into her mind, and such a bright child couldn't resist the opportunity to show off her knowledge, but of course she did it politely without any airs. Anne turned to the cupbearer and the blond gentleman to speak to them. "Correct me if I am wrong, but I was just thinking of your motto." "Your country's name, Maristela." "If I am not mistaken, it comes from the Latin phrase maris stella meaning "star of the sea", one of the many monikers of the blessed Virgin Mary." "Sometimes the Holy Lady is known as Maria Stella or Maris Stellae which also means star of the sea, does it not?" Anne asked the adults, wondering if she was correct.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Blue Drawing Room

"Yes you are correct though, the nation's name came from the current ruling dynasty: the House of Maristela...Even the Capital is named after Her Majesty the Queen's family...name."

Chapelmaster Moench looks at the Maristelan National Flag tapestry hanging on the wall, between paintings and bookshelves with grudge.

"That...Flag was used during the three-hundredth anniversary of the Dynasty...The same day the Maristelan Royal Massacre happened."

"I would not dare to tell you about the Tragedy as it is grave and that we ho-...Wish, wish Her Majesty the Queen will forget and move on...It is for the best."

Cup-bearer Allaire looked at the Chapelmaster, gesturing for him to stop talking as she moved her attention to Anne Bronn with a smile.

"...My apologies."

"Miss Bronn, there are books over there, in the bookshelves flanked by the colourful tapestries, that might interest you."

"Indeed, we must try to avoid any references to the Tragedy, it might trigger Her Majesty the Queen's il-...I mean, it might bring back Her Majesty the Queen to be 'upset' again."

Lord High Steward Charpentier led the Cup-bearer and the child to the bookshelves.

"Miss Bronn, I would like to remind that most of these books are old and are no longer relevant in these times...Its information is nothing but not completely."

The bookshelves are of mahogany material, the books it houses are not arranged properly. Some of the books' spines have faint blood stains and scratch marks.

"The books here are all about history, politics, society, stories, and many others, in Maristela, for the past three centuries, collected each of the Dynasty's monarchs ever since His Late Majesty King Peter the Sixth began to do so...By tradition, we, as Members of the Royal Household, always made sure that the books here are 'appropriate' for visitors to read so, those that are not are moved to either the Great Chamber, the Strongroom, the Royal Library, the Royal Archives, or Her Majesty the Queen's Bedchamber."

[Nuridia]

OOC: Oops, sorry. I just figured a royal family would have its emblem and motto all around its palace as a symbol of royal power. Sorry for such a short post, it's late and I have to sleep.

IC: Anne was a little disappointed when she wasn't all the way correct but happy that she had gotten most of it right. The young redhead smiled when she saw all of the books, she was curious at the dried blood stains on the books but decided not to ask seeing the grim looks on the adults' faces. She wondered what they meant when they spoke about the Tragedy and Massacre but once again, Anne figured it was the best interest for all of them not to ask. "Thank you, these books will do fine." "No information is ever irrelevant, for only by studying the past can we avoid e same mistakes and shape a better future." "That's what I was taught." Anne took down two volumes of astrophysical science, one on theoretical physics and one on extinct animals and plants. "Yes, these will do very nicely." Anne carried the heavy times to a small table in the Drawing Room, placing them there and prepared to sit down to read as she turned to the Chapelmaster and Cupbearer. "If you don't mind me asking sir and madam, I would like to know a bit about what Her Majesty the Queen is like." "If I am to meet her, I should be up to date on what to say and do should I not?" "I'd like to know a bit more about my potential adoptive mother and monarch, but not more than you two or Her Majesty deems fit for one to know." Anne said, opening the volume on extinct animals and plants.

[Padiskria]

"Run that again, from the top. You're not only representing yourself, but Padiskria as well," Laura advised Elizabeth.

Elizabeth performed the classic (and rarely actually used anymore, except among the military) Padiskri bow- crossing her left arm across her chest, then bowing from the waist so that her torso was parallel to the ground. After that she cleared her throat. "Hello, Your Majesty. My name is Elizabeth Grayson. I would be honored if you were to take me in, and I will do my best to prove I am worth adopting." She let out a quick breath, and looked at her sister. "How was that?"

Laura nodded. "Good, good. But, as is the Foreign Affairs Department's motto, good-"

"-is never good enough. I know, I know." Elizabeth finished for her. "But I don't know how to make it any better without coming off as a brown-nose."

Laura's mouth was a grim line. "Excellent point. I know you'll think of something, you always do."

"Not always," Elizabeth muttered.

The Padiskri jet pilot called over the speakers. "Fasten yourselves in, we'll be landing momentarily."

Elizabeth took a glance out the window to the beauty of Maristela. She whistled. "Why don't we have neat avenues like that in Faustum Lux?"

"The Padiskri capital is a very old city. The haphazard layout came from the necessity of building around hills and rivers and such. Neat, rectangular avenues weren't an option way back when," Laura recited, as if from a textbook.

The sleek airplane began its descent. Elizabeth simply couldn't wait.

[Maristela]

OOC:

"Well it's better for us whichever way," Alena said, grabbing Joanna's arm. The 13-year old turned to look into the eyes of her best friend, who was chatting at the fast rate that only a Celari teenager could possibly manage.
"Because if you come back," she said, "We'll see you again. If you don't come back, you're on the fasttrack to becoming a queen."
"A queen of some tiny nation noone's heard of," she countered. "When they had me studying Maristela, I couldn't help thinking that I was studying somewhere that it's a good thing noone's heard of." She looked around the airport before hushing her voice down to a whisper.
"It's...religious." she said the world as if it was a dirty thing that noone would ever want to think about.
"Are you sure?" Alena asked her. "Actually religious?"
"Yes. Something called 'Roman Catholicism." She finished as her friend started to laugh beside her.
"Oh I heard about them. They're that crazy cult that thinks that bread and wine turns into some dead guy. At least their'll be funny."
"I Suppose---"
"Joanna," a growling voice seemed to roar. It was General Legorde, walking with Alex Gordavris. Nothing more friendly than a big white thing in power armor she reflected.
"You must go!" he growled in that same monotone he used when ordering that people be executed. "The aircraft is almost ready to depart."
"Bye," Joanna said, embracing her friend. "See you soon."

And then it was off into the expensive interior of a Celari-designed plane.

The plane itself was the cause of a major argument. Following from the Celari diplomatic traddition, in which diplomats travelled escorted by what looked like half the navy in an effort to show Celeria off, Lord Gordavris was insisting that his young charge travel in a rather old battleship of the Gordavris clan Navy, the 'Pride of war.' Joanna had, however, reminded Gordavris that she was atempting to show herself oooff as a good potential daughter, and from the tone of the communication they had received, she doubted that the queen was one of the types who believed that young girls captaining thousands of tonnes of metal armed with very precise weaponry was a good plan.

And so, it was the aircraft that Gordavris had put her in. The aircraft was enormous, almost like a cruise ship in the air. 'Rendos future' had been comitioned only 3 months before her parents had died: ironically when the aircraft Rendos Future was replacing crashed into the Selca ocean.
But now she was ready to take off, and was enjoying a fine Celari whiskey, at a table, while a slave read out her newsfor the day. She was Celari, she reflected, and Celari by definition were either very very rich, or very very poor. She was not poor.

After 5 hours in the air, she was getting tired, and curled up on one of the double beds that had been placed in the sumptuous passenger cabins, only to be woken up by a the pilot over the intercom, informing her that she needed to get into a chair with a seatbelt on it in order to land safely.
Rendos sat up iritably and hit the intercom with a definite force.
"Cabin B to Bridge. I do not need to do anything, this is my aircraft. Out."
No further protests were heard from the captain as she took half an hours rest and was awoken by the small jolt of landing.
"We have landed," came the unnecisary call of the pilot.

---

The car had been provided for her by the clans, and it was not as she had expected. It was a large limozine, with a smiling driver, an ample supply of alcohol, and a very well-stocked security system. On the roof was emblazened in gold 'Kondura vehicles. Luxury courtecy of the Superior state.'
The 'Superior state.' The official pretitle of Celeria, guaranteed to annoy every foreigner. Joanna groaned as she got in, and the unspeaking driver proceeded to make his way towards the pallace, slowing down to allow what counted as 'Royal security' to come in around them.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Main Entrance

"So...We have two foreign female blue bloods and a commoner, a somebody at least.....Interesting mix though, they are all...Girls."

"It is quite troublesome, how the Dynasty's bloodline could continue if there is no male."

"It will alleviate the Succession Crisis but only for a while, no, a short while once Parliament questions Her Majesty the Queen about this issue...Garnering attention once more from the general public-"

Majordomo Cartwright and Formal Entrance Hall Butler Leach started to argue as they waited for Lady Joanna Rendos.

"-Then the Nobility will have the nerve to usurp Her Majesty the Queen, compromising Her Majesty to marry their sons in order to secure the bloodline-"

"-And then...Those who have been adopted will be cast aside, farther away in the line of succession if Her Majesty the Queen and some noble bear a child or more-"

"-And then a new dynasty will replace the Maristelans."

"-And then...The Succession Crisis will be finally over."

The motorcade drove and stopped at the roundabout before the Royal Palace's main entrance. One of the three footmen standing behind the Majordomo approached the Kondura and opened the door to where the guest is in the limousine.

"I heard from the News about...These foreigners."

"What about them?"

The Formal Entrance Hall Butler leaned to the Majordomo's ear.

"The plane they rode, it was of unimaginable size."

"How and why is it like that?"

"It is so big that it is almost as big as a ship...The News did not mentioned anything about why did they used a plane of that enormity but, I presume that they are trying to...Belittle the Nation."

"God save the Queen...Are you serious Leach? Is it THAT big?

"...Hard to believe but, yes, yes it is that big."

"What is the world coming to these days? Good god..."

[Maristela]

OOC:

I will presume that your characters, as you have not mentioned any airport, landed in the airfield inside the Royal Compound.

"Run that again, from the top. You're not only representing yourself, but Padiskria as well," Laura advised Elizabeth.

Elizabeth performed the classic (and rarely actually used anymore, except among the military) Padiskri bow- crossing her left arm across her chest, then bowing from the waist so that her torso was parallel to the ground. After that she cleared her throat. "Hello, Your Majesty. My name is Elizabeth Grayson. I would be honored if you were to take me in, and I will do my best to prove I am worth adopting." She let out a quick breath, and looked at her sister. "How was that?"

Laura nodded. "Good, good. But, as is the Foreign Affairs Department's motto, good-"

"-is never good enough. I know, I know." Elizabeth finished for her. "But I don't know how to make it any better without coming off as a brown-nose."

Laura's mouth was a grim line. "Excellent point. I know you'll think of something, you always do."

"Not always," Elizabeth muttered.

The Padiskri jet pilot called over the speakers. "Fasten yourselves in, we'll be landing momentarily."

Elizabeth took a glance out the window to the beauty of Maristela. She whistled. "Why don't we have neat avenues like that in Faustum Lux?"

"The Padiskri capital is a very old city. The haphazard layout came from the necessity of building around hills and rivers and such. Neat, rectangular avenues weren't an option way back when," Laura recited, as if from a textbook.

The sleek airplane began its descent. Elizabeth simply couldn't wait.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
MRAF Royal Compound Airfield, Royal Compound

"Her Majesty the Queen will be forced to marry somebody if this does not work out for Parliament."

"I fear too madam...Parliament would not agree with children that are female; it will end the Maristela Dynasty."

In the soil of the Royal Compound Airfield, Queen Anne's personal attendant: Lady of the Bedchamber Countess Ella Townsend of Caelum of the House of Bexley and Crown Equerry Charles Chandler stands waiting for the arrival of one of the prospective heirs. A Land Rover Defender 110 is parked behind them.

"Worst madam, Her Majesty the Queen might lose the Throne...If Her Majesty the Queen does not ensure Parliament that Her Majesty will have an heir...And if Her Majesty the Queen fails...Then, as I have said earlier, Her Majesty the Queen will be forced to marriage with the most prominent male blue blood in Maristela...Or Her Majesty the Queen will have to abdicate and renounce Her Majesty's claims to the Throne...Or rule until Her Majesty the Queen dies and be replaced by a House amongst the nobility."

"...Charles...The first two of those possibilities you have elaborated are less likely to happen as Her Majesty the Queen is above Parliament but, they could compromise Her Majesty on doing so."

They waited for the Padiskri plane carrying Elizabeth Grayson and Laura Driver to finally stop before approaching it.

"Miss Grayson is a commoner, is she not?"

"Yes Your Illustrious Highness, she is a commoner...The only problem is that she still has a family, a sister."

"A half-sister...They share the same mother."

"And that she has relatives madam, living relatives."

"That is quite troublesome Charles."

"I agree Your Illustrious Highness, it will be troublesome as her sister is with her."

"...That would make the child more difficult in transitioning to a new life."

The Royal Compound Airfield has two runways with different surfaces, asphalt and sand mixed with soil. Moss is starting to cover the asphalt as the land creeps into the runway, slowly burying it. The Airfield's Control Tower is almost rundown; its yellow exterior paint fade away because of the climbing plants, the Control Tower itself has rotten due to age and pests.

The Lady of the Bedchamber is a woman of old age, who has green eyes and is wearing a long, plain, dark-coloured dress, a black skirt, a white belt, a white blouse, and black shoes, with a white wimple, covering her head and neck; The Crown Equerry, a middle age man, has violet eyes and slicked back brown hair. The Crown Equerry is wearing a black lounge suit with a white jabot underneath a blue trenchcoat, and black pants. The Crown Equerry also has a mole on the left side of his lower lip.

[Padiskria]

OOC: I don't see why not.

IC:
Laura and Elizabeth exited the plane, catching their first unobstructed glimpse of Maristela.

"It's kinda cold," one of the baggage-handlers complained.

"Shut up! We're getting paid triple because of this, and we all get a raise if this goes off right!" another reminded him.

Laura shook her head, and walked down the auto-extending ramp, Elizabeth close behind.

Laura executed a Padriski bow, but didn't hold it very long. "Hello there. I'm the Padriski Foreign Affairs Advisor, Laura Driver. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

Elizabeth took a second to catch on, and hastily copied Laura. "A- and I am Elizabeth Grayson. I'm . . . I'm one of the prospective adoptees for Her Majesty. Pleased to meet you."

Laura elbowed her gently in the gut, which forced her to double over in pain- Gregor's Disorder amplifying the pain she felt. Laura winced for forgetting this. This is gonna reflect badly. Shit. Shit. Salvage this. How can I salvage this . . . "As you can see, Elizabeth displays the Padriski mutation of Gregor's Disorder. She has very low tolerance for pain, as well as the white hair and violet eyes associated with the condition. It is of the utmost importance that this is remembered." Please let this work, please, please, I need to get improved relations with somebody, or Draconus Dharc will have my head for this . . .

Elizabeth slowly rose, still rubbing her stomach. "Yeah. That's Gregor's Disorder for you. Second-generation condition carriers lose the amplified pain reaction, and often have immensely boosted mental capacity. In the rare event that someone like me lives long enough to have a child, that child is unfailingly some kind of genius."

Girl did her research.

[Maristela]

OOC:

Updated

OOC: Oops, sorry. I just figured a royal family would have its emblem and motto all around its palace as a symbol of royal power. Sorry for such a short post, it's late and I have to sleep.

IC: Anne was a little disappointed when she wasn't all the way correct but happy that she had gotten most of it right. The young redhead smiled when she saw all of the books, she was curious at the dried blood stains on the books but decided not to ask seeing the grim looks on the adults' faces. She wondered what they meant when they spoke about the Tragedy and Massacre but once again, Anne figured it was the best interest for all of them not to ask. "Thank you, these books will do fine." "No information is ever irrelevant, for only by studying the past can we avoid e same mistakes and shape a better future." "That's what I was taught." Anne took down two volumes of astrophysical science, one on theoretical physics and one on extinct animals and plants. "Yes, these will do very nicely." Anne carried the heavy times to a small table in the Drawing Room, placing them there and prepared to sit down to read as she turned to the Chapelmaster and Cupbearer. "If you don't mind me asking sir and madam, I would like to know a bit about what Her Majesty the Queen is like." "If I am to meet her, I should be up to date on what to say and do should I not?" "I'd like to know a bit more about my potential adoptive mother and monarch, but not more than you two or Her Majesty deems fit for one to know." Anne said, opening the volume on extinct animals and plants.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Blue Drawing Room

"Her Majesty the Queen is a rigid, stoic lady...First and foremost, God-fearing...Good, kind, and forgiving to others than those in Her Majesty's Government and Parliament...Though, in times that are dire, Her Majesty the Queen can get...A little...Irrational...In order to do every necessary means to put an end to a strife...Forgetting what of the consequences of any of those means."

Lord High Steward Charpentier continued looking at Anne Bronn, curious of her interests and why she is reading such books.

"Miss Bronn...I do not know much about Her Majesty the Queen but, I believe Her Majesty the Queen never has done any of those, excuse me Sir, the Lord High Steward said that is wrong about Her Majesty.....Well, since...Since two years ago which I do not want to mention or talk about.....Sorry Sir."

"Please Miss Allaire, it is fine, there is nothing wrong if you think I am wrong...I have also thought of what I have said as it seems to me a bit disrespectful to Our Most Gracious Sovereign, the Queen...Especially that I am an instrument of Her Majesty the Queen's communication to the Appointed and elected leaders, the Nobility, and the Aristocracy, here, in the Maristelan Capital Territory...Freedom of expression is upheld in our country after all even though Parliament regulates it."

Cup-bearer Allaire looked away from Anne, checking on Chapelmaster Moench, who is currently occupied in a discussion with Doorward Flamand.

"Unusual is it not...The books that Their Late Majesties have collected."

"Indeed...More unusual as this...Child is reading those books."

"It is hard to believe as a child of her age normally would rather read books that are specifically written for them."

"Her knowledge and understanding must be different with other children."

"She is gifted then, if that is so...She is simply gifted."

"It fits her; she is of noble blood is she not?"

"Yes, she is...A blue blood."

"I wonder, if she is chosen by Her Majesty the Queen, in the far future, how could she govern and regulate the Nation with her wisdom..."

"I bet she lacks courage."

"I beg to differ...She seems to be...A...Refined! A refined young lady...Basing on how she converses with the Lord High Steward...The manners and calmness she has shown."

"Well then..."

The Doorward made his way for the Blue Drawing Room's door.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to Her Majesty the Queen's Bedchamber, to guard Her Majesty's belongings...I should have not left my post in the first place to start with...If I stayed longer here, then, I will be labelled idle...I only went downstairs to have a glimpse of one of the prospects."

"...You are right, well, seeing you later."

The Doorward left as the Chapelmaster approached Anne.

"Pardon me Miss Bronn but, what interests you with those books?"

[Maristela]

OOC:

OOC: I don't see why not.

IC:
Laura and Elizabeth exited the plane, catching their first unobstructed glimpse of Maristela.

"It's kinda cold," one of the baggage-handlers complained.

"Shut up! We're getting paid triple because of this, and we all get a raise if this goes off right!" another reminded him.

Laura shook her head, and walked down the auto-extending ramp, Elizabeth close behind.

Laura executed a Padriski bow, but didn't hold it very long. "Hello there. I'm the Padriski Foreign Affairs Advisor, Laura Driver. It is a pleasure to meet you all."

Elizabeth took a second to catch on, and hastily copied Laura. "A- and I am Elizabeth Grayson. I'm . . . I'm one of the prospective adoptees for Her Majesty. Pleased to meet you."

Laura elbowed her gently in the gut, which forced her to double over in pain- Gregor's Disorder amplifying the pain she felt. Laura winced for forgetting this. This is gonna reflect badly. Shit. Shit. Salvage this. How can I salvage this . . . "As you can see, Elizabeth displays the Padriski mutation of Gregor's Disorder. She has very low tolerance for pain, as well as the white hair and violet eyes associated with the condition. It is of the utmost importance that this is remembered." Please let this work, please, please, I need to get improved relations with somebody, or Draconus Dharc will have my head for this . . .

Elizabeth slowly rose, still rubbing her stomach. "Yeah. That's Gregor's Disorder for you. Second-generation condition carriers lose the amplified pain reaction, and often have immensely boosted mental capacity. In the rare event that someone like me lives long enough to have a child, that child is unfailingly some kind of genius."

Girl did her research.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
MRAF Royal Compound Airfield, Royal Compound

"Madam, if that is so, why did you just explained to us Miss Grayson's condition and not assisting her after inflicting the amplified pain reaction by striking your elbow against her stomach...She even explained more about her condition and yet you did not assist."

Lady of the Bedchamber Townsend glanced at Laura Driver before looking at Elizabeth Grayson with shock.

"Does she need a wheelchair? If she cannot bear the pain you have caused upon her then she must be in a wheelchair, a lady this frail should be treated carefully and gently."

"I agree with Her Illustrious Highness."

Two footmen approached with a teenager who has short, auburn slicked back hair and is wearing a Royal Maristelan Navy service uniform composing of a white peaked cap, superimposed by the Royal coat of arms of the Kingdom of Maristela and a blue double-breasted tunic with an aiguillette on the right of his shoulder, pushing a wooden wheelchair towards the Lady of the Bedchamber.

"Oh Logan, please leave that with the footmen, that is what they are paid for by the Royal Household."

"Her Majesty the Queen has personally asked me to attend to the needs of Miss Elizabeth Grayson during her stay here with her sister, Miss Laura Driver."

The Lady of the Bedchamber looked back at Elizabeth and Laura, now with a smile, gesturing to the teenager she called "Logan."

"He is the son of the Archduke of Providence, Logan Cyrus of the House of Grey."

Logan Cyrus of the House of Grey bowed from the waist with his right hand against his chest.

"I am honoured to meet one of the possible future princesses of the Nation."

[Padiskria]

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and Laura threw up her hands defensively. "No, no, a wheelchair will not be necessary." Laura leaned forward conspiratorially. "Elizabeth is rather . . . proud. If she believes she can do something herself, she won't want any help."

"I'm hurting, not useless. I can walk," Elizabeth said, confirming Laura's words. She turned to Logan. "However, getting a chance to meet someone new is always a pleasure. Logan Cyrus of Grey, it is good to meet you."

Sensing the confusion this was apt to cause, Laura explained, "There are old superstitions back in Padiskria. I couldn't let her leave the house all that often, for fear that she'd be attacked. Elizabeth refused to dye her hair or wear colored contacts that might have disguised her condition, so I did what I had to to ensure her safety."

Elizabeth gave Laura a cold stare, as if she didn't want that bit of information being known. "I don't like to lie."

To prevent things from getting too much worse, one of the flight attendants walked up to Laura. "Miss Driver, ma'am, the crew is having a difficult time unloading that . . . thing you wanted to bring here."

Laura sighed. "I'll see to it." She turned to Elizabeth, and whispered just loudly enough that someone paying rapt attention may have overheard, "Don't mess this up, you're not the only one with something riding on this."

Elizabeth stood more rigidly, apparently painfully aware that her short stature wasn't doing her any favors. Laura walked back in the direction of the plane, flight attendant in tow.

[Maristela]

OOC:

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes, and Laura threw up her hands defensively. "No, no, a wheelchair will not be necessary." Laura leaned forward conspiratorially. "Elizabeth is rather . . . proud. If she believes she can do something herself, she won't want any help."

"I'm hurting, not useless. I can walk," Elizabeth said, confirming Laura's words. She turned to Logan. "However, getting a chance to meet someone new is always a pleasure. Logan Cyrus of Grey, it is good to meet you."

Sensing the confusion this was apt to cause, Laura explained, "There are old superstitions back in Padiskria. I couldn't let her leave the house all that often, for fear that she'd be attacked. Elizabeth refused to dye her hair or wear colored contacts that might have disguised her condition, so I did what I had to to ensure her safety."

Elizabeth gave Laura a cold stare, as if she didn't want that bit of information being known. "I don't like to lie."

To prevent things from getting too much worse, one of the flight attendants walked up to Laura. "Miss Driver, ma'am, the crew is having a difficult time unloading that . . . thing you wanted to bring here."

Laura sighed. "I'll see to it." She turned to Elizabeth, and whispered just loudly enough that someone paying rapt attention may have overheard, "Don't mess this up, you're not the only one with something riding on this."

Elizabeth stood more rigidly, apparently painfully aware that her short stature wasn't doing her any favors. Laura walked back in the direction of the plane, flight attendant in tow.

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
MRAF Royal Compound Airfield, Royal Compound

"'Old superstitions...'In Padiskria'...I want to know what it is specifically..."

"Ask Miss Driver later on regarding that in order for her to elaborate clearly to us what and why are those superstitions affecting Miss Grayson socially."

Lady of the Bedchamber Townsend and Crown Equerry Chandler looked at each other, thinking of what Laura Driver has said.

"Miss Grayson, are you sure that you would not want to use the wheelchair? It is after all for the sake of your health."

"Logan, if a lady sternly declares that she could do it, she could do it...Let Miss Grayson be with her wishes."

Logan Cyrus nodded to and examined Elizabeth Grayson's appearance, looking from right to left, mainly the features of her head.

"...I see why you would be mistaken as a mystical being back in your country.....You are simply.....Strange yet beautiful...Your appearance might be rejected by your fellow countrymen because of your country's excessively credulous beliefs but here, many would find you attractive, very attractive...In a way....."

Logan looked away from Elizabeth.

".....Um...Ah...Please excuse me for my inappropriate remarks...It...It is just that I could not help myself thus, it is my fault...And ah...It is wrong, no, rude for a Maristelan gentleman, especially for a Maristelan gentleman of my class, to say such things to a lady...In such a manner."

Logan gestured for one of the two footmen accompanying them to come and retrieve the wooden wheelchair to hold on to it just in case.

The Lady of the Bedchamber and the Crown Equerry watch Logan talk to Elizabeth.

"Charles..."

"What is it Your Illustrious Highness?"

"Do you think that Miss Grayson's sister, Miss Driver, is trying to take advantage of Miss Grayson's illness and situation?"

"I am not sure madam, possibly possible, observing how she treats Miss Grayson...Making sure that she will benefit from this for her career in politics...One way or another."

"I pity Miss Grayson, being a mere stepping stone for her sister's personal gain."

"I disagree, with respect, Your Illustrious Highness."

"Why is that Charles?"

"The behaviour and words that Miss Driver has expressed may seem all what we believe about her true goals here but, she is not a Maristelan subject, a foreigner so, we cannot immediately judge her as they have different cultures and beliefs...All that she have said might mean a different thing to their ears...Everything does not seem as we hear or see, madam."

"Well then Charles...Still, I will retain what I suspect...Believe what you believe and I shall do the same...Understood?"

"Yes Your Illustrious Highness."

[The greater Vakolicci Haven]

As the footman opened the door, Joanna was reminded yet again of how cold her home for a month, and possibly for even longer, actually was.
She stretched, and turned to the driver.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked.
"Just 14," he said in a clipped official-sounding Celari accent.
"Would that be Dral or something else?" she responded.
"Oh, just Dral. Put it on a stone if that would be easier."

Joanna rummaged through the small backpack over one arm and removed a tiny, yet wickedly sharp looking stylus and a small, round stone. She drew her clans symbol, a falcon in flight, the number 14, and carefully wrote 'Kondura vehicles,' before passing the small stone over to the driver.
"Thanks," he responded, allowing her to leave the car.

Lady Rendos stood, and approached the entrance of...what she had to realise herself was...a truely beautiful pallace. It compared even to the Pallascez Goranduern in Turin back home, where the royal traitor King Althyus lived, and even slightly eclipsed Romagna, where the far more Noble Crown Prince Blacksen lived.

Rendos stood at about 5 ft 9, with long blonde hair that fell about her shoulders, and was brushed straight. Her light green eyes seemed to glow in the tanned face that all Celari ended up getting with the provinces 'too-warm' climate. Her dress, though plain and black, was elegantly designed to the curves of her body, and she wore at her left hip an obviously ancient shortsword, its hilt decorated with rubies and the name 'Kingslayer' written in Old Celari close to the smooth, perfectly formed blade.
Kingslayer...that was what the sword was. 70 years ago, it had killed a king: Althyus' grandfather no less. And then the Vakolicci had invaded, and back came the King, and over was the shortest-lived and most useless republic in history.

As she approached the small entrance party, she bowed the standard Celari bow: her arms crossed in front of her, and her head cocked to the left and bending at the back.
"Odaerna," she said (good day.) "My name is Joanna Rendos. I'm one of the potential adoptees for Her Majesty the Queen. I do hope I'm not late, am I?" My luggage is coming from my aircraft behind me...oh, their it comes."

The large 4x4 was driven by a rugged-looking man with a scar on the back of his neck. He had a weather-beaten appearance, as one might if they had spent a long part of their life at sea, and he drove with an air of one who hates what he is doing.
"Clansmen Panahovaris," Lady Rendos said as the man walked out.
"Joanna," he responded, embracing her. "It's good to see you again. Well...I can't hang around."
Her Clans longtime retainer walked to the cavinous boot of his car, and removed 4 enormous suitcases and a locking box.
"Where do you want the box?" he asked.
"Just put them all in the entrance. I'll sort them out."

She walked confidently up to the 2 men who had quite clearly been waiting for her, before asking "I'm sorry, I didn't get any sort of information. What do I do now?"

[Padiskria]

Elizabeth was taken aback, blushing slightly. "Wha-what? No, no, I wouldn't find your remarks in any way . . . inappropriate. I'm confused, admittedly, but . . . it's refreshing to see someone remark on my appearance besides, 'help, it's a wraith'." Elizabeth realized in that moment that the audience before her had never heard any of the Padiskri fairy tales she had grown up with, and explained. "From when we are very young, Padiskri children are taught to fear 'wraiths', which are a good part of our culture. They are said to be messengers of death, that seeing one means that disaster approaches, and that touching one means that you yourself are soon to die. Our equivalent of the boogeyman, I suppose. I guess it's just cruel luck that myself and others like me match the classic description of a wraith- white hair, violet eyes, pale skin." She laughed bitterly. "If you've seen a Padiskri horror movie, you've probably seen a wraith. Do I seriously look like the thing that the kids in 'Let One Through' are so scared of?"

Laura returned, muttering something about clumsy Snake Islanders. "My apologies. Shall we be going?"

[Maristela]

OOC:

Updated

As the footman opened the door, Joanna was reminded yet again of how cold her home for a month, and possibly for even longer, actually was.
She stretched, and turned to the driver.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked.
"Just 14," he said in a clipped official-sounding Celari accent.
"Would that be Dral or something else?" she responded.
"Oh, just Dral. Put it on a stone if that would be easier."

Joanna rummaged through the small backpack over one arm and removed a tiny, yet wickedly sharp looking stylus and a small, round stone. She drew her clans symbol, a falcon in flight, the number 14, and carefully wrote 'Kondura vehicles,' before passing the small stone over to the driver.
"Thanks," he responded, allowing her to leave the car.

Lady Rendos stood, and approached the entrance of...what she had to realise herself was...a truely beautiful pallace. It compared even to the Pallascez Goranduern in Turin back home, where the royal traitor King Althyus lived, and even slightly eclipsed Romagna, where the far more Noble Crown Prince Blacksen lived.

Rendos stood at about 5 ft 9, with long blonde hair that fell about her shoulders, and was brushed straight. Her light green eyes seemed to glow in the tanned face that all Celari ended up getting with the provinces 'too-warm' climate. Her dress, though plain and black, was elegantly designed to the curves of her body, and she wore at her left hip an obviously ancient shortsword, its hilt decorated with rubies and the name 'Kingslayer' written in Old Celari close to the smooth, perfectly formed blade.
Kingslayer...that was what the sword was. 70 years ago, it had killed a king: Althyus' grandfather no less. And then the Vakolicci had invaded, and back came the King, and over was the shortest-lived and most useless republic in history.

As she approached the small entrance party, she bowed the standard Celari bow: her arms crossed in front of her, and her head cocked to the left and bending at the back.
"Odaerna," she said (good day.) "My name is Joanna Rendos. I'm one of the potential adoptees for Her Majesty the Queen. I do hope I'm not late, am I?" My luggage is coming from my aircraft behind me...oh, their it comes."

The large 4x4 was driven by a rugged-looking man with a scar on the back of his neck. He had a weather-beaten appearance, as one might if they had spent a long part of their life at sea, and he drove with an air of one who hates what he is doing.
"Clansmen Panahovaris," Lady Rendos said as the man walked out.
"Joanna," he responded, embracing her. "It's good to see you again. Well...I can't hang around."
Her Clans longtime retainer walked to the cavinous boot of his car, and removed 4 enormous suitcases and a locking box.
"Where do you want the box?" he asked.
"Just put them all in the entrance. I'll sort them out."

She walked confidently up to the 2 men who had quite clearly been waiting for her, before asking "I'm sorry, I didn't get any sort of information. What do I do now?"

IC:

The Kingdom of Maristela
Maristela City, Maristelan Capital Territory
Royal Palace, Royal Compound
The Main Entrance

Majordomo Cartwright bowed from the waist with his right hand against his chest.

"Greetings Lady Joanna Rendos, I am Jaden Cartwright, the Majordomo of the Royal Palace, the highest person of Her Majesty's household staff here, in the Palace, I act on behalf of Her Majesty the Queen in affairs concerning her residence, this residence, as well as Her Majesty's self...This is Mister Leon Leach, one of my colleagues, the Butler of the Formal Entrance Hall...We will answer to Your Grace shortly Your Grace's question."

Formal Entrance Hall Butler Leach bowed from the waist with his right hand against his chest.

"Greetings Lady Rendos and welcome to the Kingdom of Maristela, please follow us and let the Palace footmen take care of Your Grace's belongings...They will bring those to Your Grace's lodgings in the Palacio Blanco."

The Majordomo and the Formal Entrance Hall Butler led Lady Rendos and her servant to the Blue Drawing Room through the Formal Entrance Hall.

"Apologies milady, Her Majesty the Queen is not here as Her Majesty the Queen is occupied with affairs concerning a particular political dilemma which includes Her Majesty-"

"-And so, Your Grace will have to wait with another prospective adoptee, Miss Anne Bronn, here, in the Blue Drawing Room."

"...Several of the courtiers, as Your Grace can see, are here."

A group of men and women greeted the Majordomo, the Formal Entrance Hall Butler, and Lady Rendos with a bow from the neck with their right hands against their chests.

"Milady, Mister Maximilian Moench, the Chapelmaster; Missus Carole Allaire, the Cup-bearer; Lord High Steward of the Royal Household, Ernest Charpentier; Mister Ansel Flamand, the Doorward."

"They will keep Your Grace company until Her Majesty the Queen arrives as we are going to attend to other affairs so, milady, please excuse us...We will meet again with Mister Leach later on."

The Majordomo and the Formal Entrance Hall Butler bowed from their necks as they left, leaving Lady Rendos and Miss Bronn in the Drawing Room with the courtiers.

"Now...Where were we?"

"What was that?!"

"What do you mean by 'what was that?'?"

"You saw it also, we saw it, what did Lady Rendos give to that chauffeur of hers?"

"As far as I am concerned, it is none of our business...After all, they are just foreigners, expect the unexpected Mister Leach."

"Are you not curious to know about it?"

"It seems to be their way of transacting their currency...The Dral as I have read is their national currency."

"Is it? It is just peculiar to see."

"Mister Leach, as I have said earlier, this is none of our business and that we have other affairs to attend to...This...Affair you have started is not even worthy of our attention to discuss...So please, stop, in order for us to get on our way."

".....Well then."

"Good, now where were we?"