Viribus Unitis (Earth II)

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
The Hofburg, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Friday 10th February 2017, 1100hrs Local Time

---

It was a cold, bitter day in Vienna, the perfect weather for the occasion. The normally bustling streets of the city had ground to a halt as the funeral procession made its way through the city towards the Hofburg, Vienna’s majestic palace, to lay the late Archduke of Austria to rest in the family crypt beneath the expansive building. Thousands and thousands of men, women, and children had turned out onto the streets of the Capital pay their final respects to Nikolaus Robert Thomas George von Habsburg, the latest in a long and venerable line, a dynasty with a history woven across Europe. Although the fortunes of the Habsburgs had deteriorated over the years, leaving it in control of the Archduchy of Austria alone, it was nevertheless a name and a line that commanded respect. As such, in addition to the late Archduke’s own citizens, dignitaries from all over the world had descended upon Vienna to pay their respects as well, historic grievances were put aside, at least for the moment, as a long-term fixture of European politics was laid to rest. The modern Archduchy was a small but wealthy state, nestled between the various great states of Europe; the last remnant of the once-great Habsburg Empire.

For all its prosperity, Sophia Alexandra Stephanie Elizabeth von Hapsburg, the new Archduchess of Austria, faced many challenges, beyond the fact that technically speaking, the line of Habsburgs, would end with her.

From a geopolitical perspective, the Archduchy of Austria (which continued the territories of Austria proper, Switzerland, and Liechtenstein), was in an unenviable situation. Despite its wealth, and the associated high standard of living, the Archduchy was a geographically small nation with a relatively small population, at least compared to its neighbors. As such, despite a strong military for their size, and a martial tradition that would allow a rapid mobilization of national reserves, the Austrian General Staff were under no illusions that they would be able to hold off an outside assault indefinitely. They could make it an incredibly bloody prospect for a potential invader, particularly in the mountains of western Austria and Switzerland, but a determined enough invader would wear them down eventually. As such, the Archduchy had to dance a delicate game of neutrality and leveraging its wealth to its advantage.

Away from the quagmire of European politics, the Archduchy had formed one close relationship over the years, with the Kingdom of Apilonia. Some generations ago, over a century by this point, an Apilonian Prince, the younger son of a younger son of the King, had married into the Habsburgs and, although there had been no marriages since, Apilonia and Austria had maintained a close friendship ever since. Of course, much in the same way as the Habsburg had experienced a decline in the intervening years, so too had Apilonia; losing key overseas territories in the mid-century and wallowing in self-pity for decades thereafter, before experiencing the trauma of terrorism during the Terror. Nevertheless, Austria had stood by Apilonia during its hardest years and Apilonia had stood by Austria all the same. It was, therefore, no surprise that, upon the death of the Archduke, the Kingdom had sent as high-ranking a Royal as was possible. The King, approaching his seventy-first birthday, was recovering from an illness and unable to fly, whilst the Prince of Cascadia was filling in for his father and the next in line, Prince Alexander, was otherwise engaged with his duties in the Royal Apilonian Navy.

As such, the Kingdom had sent the King's second grandchild, His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia, recently passed out from the Royal Military Academy, Kingston, and available on a period of leave before reporting to his Phase Two training. As such, Prince George was dressed in the uniform of the 1st (Royal) Life Guards of the Apilonian Army, stood with His Majesty’s Ambassador and other senior officials from the Embassy, easily one of the most prominent delegations present. It had been a beautiful funeral at St. Stephen’s Cathedral, with a heavy emphasis on the life and achievements of the late Archduke and a moving eulogy by the Archduke’s longest-standing chancellor. Now, the procession winded its way into the Hofburg and disappeared from view for a private burial ceremony for just close family, followed by a reception in one of the Palace’s vast reception rooms.

It was maybe an hour before the young Archduchess, a relatively late result of the Archduke’s second marriage after the untimely death of his first wife, appeared with her aunts, uncles, and cousins, looking sad and distant, clearly wishing she was anywhere else yet knowing her duty was to be here, to thank all of the attendees. It was not a situation that George envied, so he held back for the moment; the relationship between Austria and Apilonia was close enough that he did not need his, or the Kingdom’s ego stroked, taking at least one burden from the shoulders of the young Archduchess who was no older than he was. It was only once the Archduchess had completed her duties, and stepped away and had a few minutes to herself, that George approached her as she stood looking sadly out an expansive window.

“You have my sincerest condolences, Your Grace,” George said softly.

“Thank You, Your Royal Highness,” The Archduchess replied, before smiling, small, but genuine, as she stepped forward and closed the gap between them and embraced the Apilonian Prince, who returned it easily. “It is good to see you, George, I am glad your father sent you.”

“I insisted, when they were debating whether to send me or my uncle,” George replied as he gave her a squeeze before stepping back and holding her at arm’s length whilst he examined her face. “I wasn’t going to not be by your side during all this, Sophia.”

Sophia nodded and smiled again. The Prince and the Archduchess had met several years previously, when they had both enrolled at the University of Washington (UW); it was common for Austrian scions to attend university in the Kingdom, and Sophia had been no different. It was a diplomatic move aside from anything else, as it allowed a high-ranking Austrian to be present at the majority of major social events in the Kingdom, which helped to develop and maintain social, economic, and political links between Apilonia and Austria. It had been fortuitous that an Apilonian Prince had been attending UW at the same time, as it had resulted in the two young nobles becoming fast friends. There had always been a certain attraction between the two, however, neither of them had acted upon the urge, largely in fear of ruining their friendship that the pair valued greatly. Moreover, given that Sophia would one day be the Archduke there was also a question of what would become of the Archduchy if the two were to marry. Ultimately, nothing had happened, much to the mutual regret of both the young scions, whether they knew it or not.

“I’m glad you were able to get leave from your Army,” Sophia commented as they turned to look out the window again. “My father would have liked that you were here.”

“I’m sure I would have been able to wrangle something one way or another, but as it happened, I’m waiting for my next phase of training,” George agreed. “Six months, learning the ins and out of Military Intelligence, then I’ll be off to my first posting… there is a position at the Embassy here, working with your General Staff, I could ask… I’m sure the Foreign Officer would see the advantages.”

“I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t mind having a friend close by,” Sophia admitted. “My courtiers and advisors are already getting their claws into me, it would be good to have someone to vent to.”

“Then I’ll put in the request,” George said decisively, prompting another genuine (and relieved) smile. “It’ll keep me out of trouble!”

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
The Hofburg, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Sunday 24th December 2017, 2100hrs Local Time

---

Given how far back the House of Habsburg could trace it’s glorious line and given that they had been and remained an integral part of the social scene, it was perhaps hardly surprising that they could throw one hell of a party. The Habsburg Christmas Ball, held every Christmas Eve, was a must-attend event for nobility, the rich and the famous from all over Europe, and beyond; and filled the Hall of Ceremonies in the Montoyer Wing of the vast palace to capacity. Amongst the crowds was Prince George, or Second Lieutenant George Hawkins as he was known within the Royal Apilonian Military, recently posted to His Majesty’s Embassy to the Archduchy of Austria. Given the formality and prestige of the event, George had broken out his best full mess dress uniform for the occasion. It had been an incredible event so far, and the first time that the Apilonian Prince had seen Archduchess Sophia since his arrival to his new duty-station, earlier in the week, although they had not yet had a chance to speak properly. Of course, given that they had corresponded almost every day for the past few years, and spoken on the phone at least once a week, it was not like it was a true reunion. In any event, the Archduchess had extended an exclusive invitation for him to join her for Christmas Dinner the following day.

Truth be told, as had been the case earlier in the year, George had no desire to put undue pressure on his friend, as she was assailed on all sides by the almost countless guests and was doing her best to play the gracious host. Of course, as a good friend he was keeping a close eye on her; knowing from their conversations that she had absolutely no trust in her courtiers, all of whom had been employed initially by her father and were dinosaurs to say the least, allowing her barely any freedom or agency, despite her status as the ultimate power within the Archduchy. As such, as Sophia worked her way through another group of guests, George had more than a few misgivings that her courtiers would now allow their young Archduchess to call it a night whilst the going was still good. Although by no means a heavy drinker himself, George knew full well that Sophia was a lightweight and at the rate, she was going through glasses of champagne she would be in no state to conduct diplomacy.

Sure enough, shortly after one of the young Austrian nobles had taken her to the dancefloor to dance, something apparently untoward occurred and Sophia’s hand flashed up and the slap she laid upon the man echoed around the suddenly quiet Hall of Ceremonies. After a few moments of silence as everyone took in what had just happened, including the Austrian noble who, too his credit, looked shocked and ashamed at whatever had happened, the Archduchess fled the Hall and, rather than going after her, the courtiers descended upon the shocked guests to placate them. Shaking his head angrily, George slipped through the crowds and out the same door that Sophia had left through and entered the winding corridors of the Hofburg. However, after spending two summers here during their University years, George knew his way through these corridors and, more importantly, he knew the kind of places that Sophia would withdraw to if she wanted to avoid her courtiers. Sure enough, George found Sophia in a small reading room off the Hofburg’s private library, sat on a bay window, sobbing quietly as she looked out over the city, her back to the door so she was not yet aware that George had found her.

It was only when George placed a gentle hand on her shoulder that her head shot round with wild eyes.

“George!” Sophia gasped breathlessly, reaching up to his neck and pulling him into a fierce hug. “I’m so glad you came after me.”

George sat down on the bay window beside her, allowing a far more comfortable embrace.

“What happened?” He asked softly.

“Count Heller,” Sophia sighed heavily. “He put his hand a little too low on my back for my liking during that waltz.”

George squeezed her shoulder gently but frowned.

“I’m not condoning his behavior, Soph, but that was a pretty dramatic reaction,” George said gently, to which Sophia scowled and pulled away from him and angrily stepped away to the other window. “You know what I’m saying, you're usually more diplomatic with asses.”

Sophia sighed heavily again, her shoulders sagging as she turned back to him.

“It’s not entirely his fault for being an ass… the Grand Chamberlain has made it known that I am ‘seeking suiters’; as he is of the belief that I really ought to marry sooner rather than later, in order to pop out an heir to the Habsburg line and the throne of Austria,” Sophia said bitterly. “So I’ve spent the last three months fending off subtle advances from every lord from here to Zurich, and plenty from beyond; normally I let them down gently… Heller just got the short end of my temper… you know what I’m like when I’ve had a drink or two.”

“I do,” George smiled as he stood and walked over to her. “I remember that time we went to Vegas, incognito, and that guy tried it on with you.”

Sophia smiled sadly as she stepped towards him and hugged him again.

“I remember I almost broke my hand before those squaddies from your Household Division tracked us down and waded in,” Sophia replied, placing her hand on his chest and looking up at him. “To tell you the truth, George, you’re the only men I’ve ever felt safe with.”

George didn’t have another moment to absorb this confession before Sophia stepped up on her tiptoes to kiss him gently on the lips, snaking her arms around his neck as she pulled her down to him. After a few moments of utter surprise, George found himself kissing her back, tasting the champagne on her lips. After a few moments, and regretting it immediately, he broke the kiss and pulled back.

“That was the champagne talking,” George said quietly.

Sophia looked up at him searchingly.

“No… it wasn’t,” Sophia said softly, but firmly, as she reached up to kiss him again. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that.”

“I could make a guess,” George replied honestly, leaning down to kiss her himself. “You know this will be complicated, in the extreme?”

“Yes, but we don’t have to worry about that for now,” Sophia smiled slightly, leading him over to one of the antique sofas at the center of the reading room and sitting him down before sitting next to him. “Sit with me tonight? I can’t bear another lecture tonight.”

George simply nodded and lifted up an arm as she snuggled up against him, as they had on more than one late night of studying, except this time there were no textbooks or essays to hide the intimacy of their positions. Within a few minutes, however, the young Archduchess was asleep, her head resting on his chest. The equally young Apilonian Prince would not get any sleep this night, as he considered the implications of what had happened in the last few minutes; suffice it to say, the normally quiet life of the ‘spare’ in the Apilonian Royal Family, that is the second born child of an heir to the throne, seemed somewhat less likely than it had a few hours previously.

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
Stadtpark, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Friday 16th March 2018, 1900hrs Local Time

---

There was a certain anonymity afforded by a military uniform; civilians tended to just see the uniform and not the face beside it, whilst military personnel tended to faces on the rank insignia. As such to most observers, all they would see was two military officers walking arm-in-arm through the expansive Stadtpark; the most remarkable thing being that one of them, the male officer, was wearing the uniform of the Apilonian Army although this wasn’t tremendously unusual as the Apilonian Embassy maintained a sizable military staff given the close relationship between Apilonia and Austria. The female officer wore the uniform of the Austrian Army, with the only notable thing being a surprising high rank for her age, that of an Oberst, although even that was difficult to spot given the twilight and the slowly falling snow. As for the couple themselves, they were very much in their own world today, in the way that only new lovers could be; the woman’s arm looped through his and her head on his shoulder as they walked slowly through the snow.

The only thing that hinted at there being more than met the eye was the two other uniformed individuals hanging respectfully back, but clearly close enough to intervene if there was an issue, wearing Apilonian Army uniforms and the regimental insignia of the Cascade Guards. Afterall, the protection of the Apilonian Royal Family was the concern of Household Division of the Apilonian Army, particularly overseas. As awkward as the two Guardsmen likely felt, following their Prince around like voyeurs on his secret romance (for which they were required to keep their mouths shut), they likely felt significantly better than their Austrian counterparts would if they knew that their Archduchess had secreted herself from the Hofsburg without a security detail. Given that the two young lovers had actually wanted some time alone, they had agreed that two Apilonian Guardsmen was far more preferable to the song and dance that the Austrian Grand Chamberlain would have insisted upon if he had known that the Archduchess was going out in public. So, she had pulled on her uniform, as Regimental Oberst of a number of Austrian regiments she had that privilege, and relied upon its anonymity to allow her to walk the streets unseen on several occasions now.

Although the Archduchess of Austria had a great deal of power and influence over the civilian government, there had not been enough time for her father to train her sufficiently, or for her to establish her own relationships within the Archducal Household, and as such, her courtiers retained sufficient influence. Whilst no one would call her meek, Sophia was not one for confrontation and was loath to challenge her senior courtiers, the domineering personality that was the Grand Chamberlain in particular. It was a situation that Prince George found difficult to simply sit idly by and allow to happen; god knew that if he had his way he would have put a stop to it by now as he was more than happy to have a confrontation over Sophia. Indeed, if their relationship developed to the point of marriage then, as her husband he would be able to, but for now he was her secret lover; a shoulder to cry on where possible, a reassuring phone call every night, but not in a position where he could assert true influence. As far as the Archducal Household was concerned, he was a close friend of the Archduchess from her University days, but a ‘mere’ foreign Prince none the less and as such could largely be ignored as far as the internal affairs of the Household.

It pained the Apilonian Prince greatly; Sophia was smart, funny, and would make one hell of a compassionate ruler, but she was no fighter (which was perhaps why they made such a good pair) and would not stand up for herself; her people, absolutely, but for herself, not so much. As they reached a bench George gently guided Sophia towards it and they sat comfortably on it as the snow continued to fall slowly around them. It was the kind of walk they had taken every week back in Apilonia, during their shared time at UW, however where they had previously been merely friends, they were now something more and Sophia clung to him for both affection and reassurance. George knew that Sophia had always been intimidated by the Archducal Household and it’s courtiers, but during her years in Apilonia she had become far more comfortable expressing her independence that he had hoped that she would fare better back in the Hofsburg. Alas, it seemed that this wasn’t the case.

George suspected that what she needed was a gentle push and encouragement and she would do the rest, but it was far easier for him to simply say that than for her to actually have to go back there, alone, and try and do it. It was for that reason, after all, that they were having to meet in secret like a pair of teenagers. He had no desire to become an overbearing influence upon her, to be the ‘power behind the throne’, rather he simply wanted to support and encourage her, as he had done (and seen her succeed) at UW.

“We need to talk about the Grand Chamberlain, love,” George said gently, and immediately felt her tense in his arms.

“Why?” Sophia sighed after a few moments.

“Because we can’t go on like this, it’s just not sustainable, I know the amount of strain he’s putting upon you with all of this” George replied firmly. “I know how much you want to do, for the Archduchy, but you can’t get your agenda started if the Grand Chamberlain is such a domineering influence.”

Sophia looked like she wanted to argue, but she simply sighed and nodded her agreement. Although the Archduchy of Austria was a prospering economy, with a high standard of living, it faced a great deal of challenges and the ‘Old Guard’, so proud of their economic and domestic successes, seemed unwilling to truly face them. In addition to the obvious geopolitical challenges posed by being a small but prosperous nation, the Archduchy was facing demographic challenges, as well as increasingly challenging economic environment, not to mention the political and security threat posed by the increasingly rebellions Margraviate of Istria. If Istria broke away from the Archduchy, it would cut Austria off from the sea and the economic impact would be disastrous to say the least. Indeed, George feared, and was supported in this fear by the Station Chief from the Royal Intelligence Service in Vienna who was concerned that the perceived personal timidity of the Archduchess was likely to encourage the Margrave of Istria, whose ambitions were closely tied to his desire for Istrian independence, to try his luck sooner rather than later.

“What do you suggest?” Sophia asked after a few minutes.

“We need to build you a power base; between your education and your political views, you’re a progressive in an establishment that is very traditional; you need to start exercising your executive power to start putting people who share your view in key positions,” George said firmly. “Start small; put your friends, people you trust, into positions that no one can question your authority to appoint; one or more ladies-in-waiting; that way you’ll have companionship of other young women our age… and you want have to face all those crusty old bastards alone.”

Sophia nodded thoughtfully; for someone such as herself with an upbringing that had been so very lonely until she had gone to Apilonia, the prospect of having one or more close companions, typically unmarried young women of noble birth, was both an alien one and one that she suspected she would quite like. As it was, she was most happiest when she was with George; for the companionship as much as for the intimacy the pair now shared, the former having been true back at UW before their relationship had evolved into a much more romantic form. Even if she would still want to spend as much time with him as possible, it would be nice to have another companion for the times when that simply wasn’t possible. And, of course, it would be so much easier to stand up to such a domineering presence as the Grand Chamberlain if she wasn’t having to do so alone.

“I’ll start reaching out to my friends, I’m sure at least one of them will be up for the challenge,” Sophia affirmed with a nod, and a small smile. “So, we start slowly and then work out way up, putting our people in key positions to build up my power-base in court… then what?”

“Then we get to work with the democratic side of things; once you’re out from under the thumb of the Grand Chamberlain you can start pursuing your own agenda, which will gain you popular support in your own right, not just from your father,” George continued seriously, having thought about this at length. “Once you’ve got a solid support base amongst your people, the Grand Chamberlain wouldn’t dare try what he’s been pulling so far, and then you can replace him… you could do that now, of course, but I know that it’s not in your nature.”

Sophia nodded her understanding; she would feel a whole lot better going after the Grand Chamberlain if she knew that she had support behind her, both inside the Archducal Court and publicly. The simple fact of the matter was that she had never been prepared for any of this; her father had been old, there was no doubt about that, but both of them had expected him to last at least another decade or so, during which time he could have prepared her for all of this. As it was, all she could rely on was George’s experience within the Apilonian Court, which was very different in many respects to the Austrian one, given the differences between the prestige of their lines.

“You do know that we’re going to face a lot of opposition,” Sophia commented. “Most of what I believe… what you believe, is in stark contrast to many prominent nobles and figures here.”

George nodded his agreement. Within the Archduchy there were two main political blocks; the Traditionalists and the Progressives; of which Sophia was firmly a member. The Traditionalists were, in many ways, stuck in the past; in the memory of the glorious days of the Austrian Empire and the Habsburg Monarchy at its height; and argued strongly that Austria should exercise a firmer hand in settling the affairs of a tumultuous Eastern Europe and the Balkans. Ironically, one of the most prominent Traditionalists was the Margrave of Istria, whose desire for independence from Vienna was likely in order to establish his own powerbase before turning on the Habsburgs. The Istrian situation was concerning to say the least, as Margraviate enjoyed a great deal of autonomy from Vienna, for historic and administrative reasons, indeed the only true centre of true Austrian power in the region was the Free City of Trieste. However, the Istrian issue was not likely to become a pressing issue in the short-term, giving Sophia valuable time to build up her power base.

The Progressive movement was strongest, as was to be expected, amongst the commoners and the middle-class; and many democratic attempts at political reform had been attempted, only to fail at the desk of the Archduke. With a progressive Archduchess, these attempts were likely to be broad successful, which was an advantage as far as Sophia’s situation was concerned, although there was a very real risk that any major progressive advancements, particularly supported by the new Archduchess, would push the Traditionalists, particularly the Margrave of Istria, into rash action that would be a detriment to the Archduchy as a whole.

It was a very difficult, very delicate situation.

“Well, we’ll just have to deal with them when the situation demands it, until then we start doing what we need to do,” George said, simply but firmly, leaning down to kiss her gently. “If we want to achieve anything, we need to assert your authority over your own Court… then we can work on the rest.”

Sophia smiled warmly and kissed him back.

“Okay,” She said simply. “I trust you.”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
Vienna Rowing Club, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Sunday 26th August 2018, 1230hrs Local Time

---

“On three… one…two…three.”

On the count of three George and Sophia lifted the double scull from the water, and in one smooth movement lifted it over their heads on the pontoon outside Vienna Rowing Club, on the Danube. With water dripping down from the upturned hull of the boat, a mercy when fell on their hot bodies, they carefully manoeuvred off the pontoon and started making their way towards the boat house. The pair had just enjoyed a bracing three-hour outing on the Danube in the glorious summer sun and were, as a result, drenched in sweat from both the sheer heat and the physical exertion that their chosen sport. The Danube was absolutely stunning at this time of year, and the citizens of Vienna took full advantage of the resource on their front doorstep during the summer months when the city that spent its winter covered in snow basked in glorious sunlight. It was, therefore, perhaps unsurprising that the Danube was a busy place, and rowers, by virtue of the fact that they faced away from their direction of travel, had to stay on their toes to avoid an incident. Of course, the three Austrian National Police RHIBs that had accompanied them had helped matters in that regards.

Setting the boat down on a pair of stands, George and Sophia quickly grabbed some sponges and clothes and began to wipe their boat down. If there was one thing that the pair liked about rowing it was the fact that their titles did not give them any particular power in this environment; they had to clean their boats, personally by hand, just like everyone else. Sure, it would be foolish to say that the Archduchess in particular would not have influence over the Club Captain, but in terms of actual, direct power it was a very different dynamic. Although there was a copious amount of Austrian police and security forces around the perimeter, but they largely kept a low profile and allowed their Archduchess to enjoy her escape from the hustle and bustle of official life. The fact that Vienna Rowing Club was physically separated from there rest of the city, on a small island just off the river bank, made it infinitely easier to secure without imposing too much on the Archduchess and her fellow Rowers.

None of this stopped dozens of well-wishers from lining the bank to catch a glimpse of her, nor did it stop the paparazzi from using telephoto lenses to catch ‘raunchy’ pictures of the attractive young Archduchess in figure-hugging rowing clothing… especially when accompanied by significant arm candy in the form of an similarly attired Apilonian Prince. Although they had not exactly tried to hide their relationship, it had only been in the last few weeks, as Austrian and Apilonian tabloid press had begun to print rumours of a relationship between the two, that they had publicly acknowledged the relationship in an effort to head-off rampart speculation. Although it had been unusual at first, lacking the anonymity that they had enjoyed they had to be far more restrained and dignified in public, it was at least refreshing to not have to hide it when they spent time together in public. Their close friendship had been a well-known fact, and although some outlets had speculated on their relationship it had only been recently, when they were photographed by a paparazzi in a loving embrace, that the rumours began to abound across both the Archduchy and the Kingdom.

Although they had been immensely irritated at first, both George and Sophia had come to quite like the candid picture. It had been taken several months previously, on a late spring evening as they had enjoyed a walk together, in their respective uniforms in an attempt to hide their identities. George had his arms around Sophia, her hands flat across his chest as she looked up adoringly at him as he looked back at her. It was just a shame that it had been plastered over several dozen tabloid newspapers, eager to take a shot at anything approaching a scandal (which arguably this didn’t, as both George and Sophia were single and eligible) when it involved royalty or nobility. Fortunately, it was romantic, intimate in its own way but not in the way that the tabloids tended to care about, so the fallout had been limited. Indeed, they had been talking about going public about their relationship for a few weeks by that point, so it was as good a chance as any and allowed them to get ahead of the story. It helped that the public had taken to the news in the way that the two lovers would have liked, with approval and affection.

Of course, going public about their relationship had resulted in more than a small political impact, on a number of fronts. Domestically, in both Apilonia and Austria, the news had been greeted mostly positively; the close friendship between the two was well known and as such they had a comparatively high profile in both, meaning that they were already a known entity and what both set’s of citizens had already seen so far they liked. Within the Archduchy, the news provided the Margrave of Istria plenty of political capital to moan about ‘foreign influence’ on the Archduchess, and to add it to the list of grievances that he held against Vienna. Ultimately however, the Free City of Trieste remained a stalwart supporter of the Archduchess, even as the countryside became increasingly riled up by the Margrave’s rhetoric against Vienna. Although matters had not yet come to a head as a result, going public about the relationship had also had a very real impact on the Archduchess’s quality of life within her own Household.

The situation had been dramatically helped by the Archduchess appointing herself several ladies-in-waiting, and refusing to be parted from them, meaning that whenever the Grand Chamberlain had tried to browbeat her into going along with whatever his idea was, he found himself up against not just his relatively meek Archduchess but three other young women, all chosen for their personalities and their independence. The Grand Chamberlain had been furious, of course, and tried to block the appointments however the right of the Archduchess to appoint her own companions was indisputable and he had been forced to give ground and slink away with his tail between his legs. Since then, the Grand Chamberlain had been far less invasive in his meddling, rather constraining his actions to those areas that were indisputably in his bailiwick in order to re-assert some of his authority. It had resulted in something approaching a cold war within the Hofburg. Both the Grand Chamberlain and the Archduchess knew that, as much as she would like, she could not simply dismiss him before his term of office expired, as he had been handpicked by her father and to sack him early would invite rampant speculation on the inner workings of the Archducal Household.

So, for now, an uneasy truce had settled over the Hofburg; the Archduchess increasingly exercised her personal prerogatives whilst the Grand Chamberlain contented himself with his own responsibilities and had substantially backed off. It did not hurt, of course, that given that their relationship was now public knowledge, George could now visit the Hofburg without need for a cover story and, as such, had quickly become a rapid fixture at Sophia’s request. Although he had no formal position within the Archducal Household, his status and his relationship with the Archduchess leant itself to a great deal of influence, and the young Prince was very careful not to push too hard against what he called the ‘crusty old courtiers’. Nevertheless, a happier home life had allowed Sophia to really start coming out of her shell again, as George knew she could be from their time at UW but had come as something of a surprise within the Archduchy. Prior to succeeding her father she had maintained a very low profile, and had been quiet and reserved in public since his death… so the chance in her personality, to a bubbly, outgoing young woman who could talk to anyone had come as a surprise to many… but had endeared her to almost all of her subjects.

As George and Sophia left the boathouse after placing their double scull back onto the racks, the young Prince put his arm around his lover’s shoulders and gave her an affectionate squeeze; much to the delight of the crowd on the riverbank. Their moment was broken prematurely when they spotted a somewhat older man walking towards them, one they recognized immediately. The man, whose black hair was starting to give way to streaks of grey which did, it must be said, look rather distinguished, was wearing a light bodywarmer, typical of those worn by rowers as, even in the height of summer, it could be cold on the water early in the day. Given that the bodywarmer had an emblem on it’s left breast, that of the Salzburg Rowing Club, which rowed on the River Salzach, it was perhaps hardly surprising.

“If I my intrude, Your Grace,” The Newcomer said politely as he bowed to Sophia, then nodded to George. “Your Royal Highness.”

“My Lord Duke of Salzburg,” Sophia replied with practised ease, offering her hand which he kissed respectfully. “Of course… how can I help you?”

“Thank you, Your Grace, and I do apologise for disturbing you during your leisure time, but I was already visiting the VRC,” Stephen, Duke of Salzburg, nodded his gratitude. “I spoke to the Duke of Zurich, when I was in Zurich yesterday, he told me about an interesting conversation you and he had last week.”

“I’m sure he did,” Sophia replied with a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think your plan to transfer power from the House of Lords to the House of Deputies is a good one, you and I both know that I throw my hat into the progressive ring these days, but I also think you’re going to come up against a lot of resistance from the traditionalists,” The Duke said honestly. “Aside from anything else, our esteemed Margrave of Istria is going to scream bloody murder, we both know he has next to no support amongst the Deputies from his domain, but almost total control over the Dukes and Counts, meaning his power base is the Upper House.”

“Which is, of course, precisely why I want to do it,” Sophia agreed easily. “Even if the elected representatives aren’t with him, his position gives him a lot of power over the regional police and the militia, and that is cause for concern.”

Sophia’s shook her head.

“Unlike your own title, the position of Margrave was originally an Archducal appointee, unfortunately, tradition and loyal service from the current Margrave’s predecessors resulted in it becoming effectively hereditary, indeed as you know it became enshrined in law,” Sophia shook her head, but then smiled with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Which means that to de-fang the Margrave of Istria I need to go after all of the titles of nobility and decrease the power nobles such as yourself wield due to some bad actors… unless, of course, I can get a supermajority in the Lords to remove the Margraviate’s hereditary status.”

The Duke of Salzburg’s face broke into a broad smile as he understood her meaning.

“You’re banking on the rest of the Lords selling out the Margrave in order to save their own rights and privileges,” The Duke commented, stating rather than asking. “That way you put yourself in a legal power to strip the Margrave of his position, by force if you need to.”

“I hope it doesn’t come to that, I’m hoping that we can pile enough political leverage on the Margrave to step down voluntarily,” Sophia shook her head. “But yes, ultimately, I would much prefer to have a supermajority in the Lords to back up whatever play I call.”

“You’ve spent far too long in Apilonia, picking up those sports metaphors,” The Duke smiled fondly. “You do realise that building such a coalition will take some time… possibly years.”

“I know,” Sophia nodded. “And I’m fully prepared to put the time and effort in.”

“Very well, you have my support… but I suspect you probably had me in your column from the starting, given my known political leanings,” The Duke replied. “I ought to be able to bring over my own Counts, and I’ll get working on those Dukes that might be more intransigent.”

“I appreciate that, my Lord Duke,” Sophia smiled, in a tone that was understood to be the end of the conversation, a polite but firm reminder of the power dynamic; the Duke kissed her hand again before departing towards the boathouse. “Well, that was better than I expected.”

“He was right though, we had him in our column from the get-go, but it is still very encouraging to hear it from the horses mouth,” George agreed as they watched the Duke depart. “Well, the cat is out of the bag now, and it’s a long road ahead of us… you ready?”

“With you by my side?” Sophia nodded. “Always.”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
Fort Ward, Royal Bainbridge
The Duchy of Washington, Kingdom of Apilonia
Monday 10th June 2019, 0930hrs Local Time

---

Prince George, newly promoted Captain George Hawkins within the Royal Apilonian Military, wearily returned the salute of the pair of soldiers on either side of the entrance to the central complex of Fort Ward, the spiritual home of the Apilonian Army, at the southern edge of Royal Bainbridge Island; the sprawling government district across Puget Sound from the Capital, Seattle. Although he had flown from Vienna, arriving at Seattle-Tacoma International Airport an hour prior, on a Royal Airways Boeing 787 Dreamliner in First Class, regularly reviewed as one of the most luxurious and comfortable such offerings anywhere in the world, the jet lag was nevertheless having an impact. It was a standing policy of the Apilonian Royal Family to only use make use of taxpayer funded aircraft for personal travel, and as such almost all Royals, except for the King or those on official business, travelled commercially using the private funds available to the Royal Family from it’s own properties, investments, and income sources. Of course, this was still more than sufficient to fly First Class on Royals, which George was grateful for as he dreaded to think what the jet lag would have been like flying in economy.

Nevertheless, the few hours of sleep he had managed on the plane, combined with a sense nervous anticipation at the appointment that had brought him halfway around the world, kept him moving into the building.

Fort Ward had initially been constructed shortly after the foundation of the Kingdom, when Apilonian settlers at long last chose the site that would become Seattle as the place from which they would build their new home. As the early settlers had continued to explore the surrounding land, the site had been considered a good location for a forward base on the Kitsap Peninsula, a decision vindicated several years later when the Royal Navy was founded and HM Naval Station Bremerton, further up the Sinclair Inlet, established as the home port of the fleet’s first four frigates. In due course, Fort Ward had been equipped with cannon, and later coastal artillery, and tasked with commanding the entrance to the Sinclair Inlet and the approaches to Bremerton. Although the coastal artillery role had receded in recent years, the prominence of the site in the early history of the Apilonian Army, being the first fort established, had ensured that when Bainbridge Island was chosen as the site for the construction of the Evergreen Palace, and a dedicated royal district separate from the bustling metropolis of Seattle, that the Fort would remain a highly importance installation.

As such, as its direct military role had faded in the last century it had been chosen as the site for a vast complex of buildings that would hold Army Headquarters; the beating heart of the Apilonian Army, as well as Headquarters of the Field Army, the primary offensive formation. The Blakely Building, as the sprawling central complex was known, was the building that housed Army Headquarters, and it was into this labyrinth that George was now entering. Fortunately, it was not his first time at Army Headquarters, and no sooner had he entered the atrium did a young Lance Corporal from the Adjutant-General’s Corps appear to guide him on his way regardless. It was with only a modicum of surprise, given his family name, that he was show to the Office of the Adjutant-General to the Forces, General Sir Thomas Webber. It was unusual for the Adjutant-General himself to get involved in a single personnel matter regarding a relatively junior officer… but then not every junior officer was also a Prince.

“Captain George Hawkins, reporting as ordered, Sir,” George said formally, standing at attention in front of the Adjutant-General’s desk.

“At ease, Captain, have a seat,” General Webber replied, sticking to the protocol surrounding how Royals were treated in the military, before smiling slightly. “How have you found your posting to Vienna?”

“Professionally, it has been both an invaluable opportunity to get practical intelligence experience in a volatile part of the world, and an incredibly insight into the geopolitics of a close ally,” George nodded, then smiled as well. “Personally… well we both know that you know far more about my personal life than would normally be the case for an officer of my rank, but it has obviously been a hell of a two years.”

“Indeed, and I assure you, Captain, I am about as uncomfortable knowing as much about your personal life as I’m sure you are about millions of people knowing about it,” General Webber replied bluntly, which George appreciated. “That being said, and the reason you’re seeing me, rather than AAG Personnel, as much as the Army tries to give Royals as normal a career as possible, we can’t overlook the…”

“My relationship with the Archduchess,” George stated.

“Just so, now normally we’d try to accommodate you and encourage you to try and make it work, but ultimately to suck it up,” General Webber commented with a smile. “However, the diplomatic consequences of your relationship with the Archduchess… especially if it leads to marriage, can’t be ignored.”

“Which I’m sure the Palace has made very clear,” George rolled his eyes.

“To the Chief of the General Staff, no less,” General Webber replied wryly. “Fortunately, we’ve got an idea.”

“Intriguing,” George smiled wryly. “Go on then, Sir, what do you have in mind?”

“As it happens, the 17th Infantry Division on Malta is in need of a new General Staff Officer, Intelligence… your experience in Austria will stand you in very good stead in the wider Mediterranean theatre as you won’t need to be brought up to speed on regional issues,” General Webber replied. “It also keeps you within a short flight of Vienna, a little over two hours I believe, which ought to be more than close enough for the purposes of your relationship with the Archduchess… at least at weekends when the division isn’t on exercises.”

“That sounds like a very good option, Sir,” George nodded, then frowned. “I want to be very clear, I want to have earned this position.”

“Don’t worry on that count, your next posting within the Intelligence Corps would have been on a divisional staff in any event, or a similar role elsewhere, so it is by no means out of the ordinary career stream for an officer of your age and experience,” General Webber said reassuringly. “We wouldn’t put you anywhere you weren’t qualified for, and as I said your experience in Vienna makes you a very attractive option for the position in any event… you know as well as I do that those King’s Officers in the service on the back of patronage tend to get shunted into quiet slots where they can do as little damage as possible… that is distinctly not the case here.”

George nodded his understanding, and agreement, with the Adjutant-General’s statement. All branches of the Royal Apilonian Military had gone to great lengths over the past century to ensure that all appointments and promotions, particularly to plum command slots, were based on merit rather than patronage of a wealthy or influential family member, particular the scion of a noble or landed family. Of course, patronage still existed to the extent that the sons and daughters of wealth and influence were typically able to attend the Military Foundation Colleges, and indeed University and officer training, far more easily than a commoner, but within the service merit was the primary consideration. For those officers whose performance was sub-par, but whose removal from the King’s service would be… politically difficult, the solution was typically to assign them to positions of little relevance or authority and allow them to enjoy the perks of military service without causing too much trouble. It was not, perhaps, the most efficient way possible but it did keep the influence of patronage to an absolute minimum and generally resulted in a professional, dedicated, and uncorrupted officer corps. Moreover, those bad apples were not immune from military discipline, up to and including a dishonourable dismissal, if they stepped out of line, and no amount of political influence would save their careers in the event of certain offences.

“That is reassuring, Sir,” George smiled.

“As it should be, of course I would be lying if the Army, and the Palace, were not cognizant of the political benefits of a senior member of the Royal Family serving on Malta, the Crown Colony has been our most loyal overseas holding but it does no harm to visibly favour them,”

“I assume the Palace has a number of initiatives and events they would like me to attend,” George replied dryly.

“I can’t speak for the Palace,” General Webber said with a smirk that answered George’s question well enough. “But I can say that the Army will keep you busy over there, on and off duty.”

“I’m sure,” George chuckled. “Nevertheless, Sir, I do appreciate the effort that you and your office have put into this.”

“Truth be told, Captain, we’re happy to do it; the RAM as a whole is proud of the tradition of the Royal Family for it’s young Princes, and recently it’s Princesses, opting to serve in uniform, not to mention well aware of the value of the links between us and the Crown,” General Webber replied honestly. “We’re also aware the challenges that often prevent young Royals from enjoying a full career, particularly given the value your family regularly brings to the service, so we’re eager to accommodate where possible, for both your benefit and ours.”

“Nevertheless, it is appreciated,” George repeated simply, before changing the subject. “Will you be attending Trooping the Colour on Saturday, Sir?”

General Webber nodded and smiled; the King’s Birthday Parade was the pinnacle of the Army’s ceremonial calendar and was attended by as many senior officers as possible, as the event and the reception at the Evergreen Palace afterwards were excellent opportunities for valuable networking. Indeed, it was not for nothing that the tickets available for junior officers and senior non-commissioned officers were fiercely sought after when they became available and were typically used as one of many rewards for distinguished service.

“Indeed, I will,” General Webber replied. “You’ll be on parade, I take it?”

“Given that I’m pretty confident the Palace co-ordinated the exact date of this meeting with your office to ensure that I am in the Kingdom, I’m sure you know the to that already, Sir,” George replied with a smirk. “But yes, I’ll be joining my father and brother in the procession as a Royal Colonel… given that my grandfather saw fit to bestow upon me the lofty title of Colonel of the Cascade Guards.”

“A great honour indeed… you know as well as I do that the Cascade Guards have a long and glorious history of service to the Kingdom,” General Webber nodded sagely. “It’s their turn to troop their colour this year, I believe?”

“Indeed, it is… doubtless why the King decided this was the year to make me Royal Colonel, so I’ll be watching ‘my’ regiment very closely,” George agreed with another chuckle. “I’m proud of my own service and having earned my place, but I’m very aware of the tradition I’ll be representing when I wear that uniform.”

“That is very good to hear, Captain,” General Webber said simply. “Well, as much as it is a pleasure to talk to you, as always, Captain, I must turf you out as I’m due in a meeting with the CGS.”

“Of course, Sir, I don’t envy your job,” George laughed, shaking the Adjutant-General’s hand once again. “Perhaps we could talk further after Trooping the Colour… I’d appreciate your eye on the regiment’s drill.”

“I’d like that,” General Webber smiled. “Enjoy your leave in the Kingdom, Captain, I do hope your father and grandfather don’t bombard you with questions about the Archduchess overly much.”

“So, do I!” George replied with a grin, knowing that was pretty much unavoidable. “Good day, Sir.”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
The Hofburg, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Tuesday 24th December 2019, 2100hrs Local Time

---

Regulars at the Habsburg Christmas Ball, which typically included all Austrian nobles, members of the diplomatic corps, and the rest of the great and the good of Europe and beyond, had been amazed over the past few hours at the transformation of the Archduchess compared to previous years. In 2017, and to a lesser extent in 2018, the Archduchess had been polite and doing the rounds as was expected of her but had been visibly going through the motions, doing her duty and little more. The same could not be said this year; the Archduchess was bright, outgoing, fully engaged, and thoroughly enjoying herself. Over the past few hours, since the start of the Ball, she had been tirelessly circulating throughout the vast Hall of Ceremonies, doing invaluable political and diplomatic work that would stand her agenda in very good stead for the coming year. It was a reassuring sight, particularly for many of the Austrian nobles regardless of what side of the political spectrum they were on; the Archduke (or in this case the Archduchess) was the heart and soul of the Archduchy, and what many of them had seen in previous years had been concerning to say the least.

As far as most observers could tell, much of the transformation was due to the presence of the handsome Apilonian Prince on whose arm she was as she circulated through the hall, only letting go when interacting with the other guests. Although this was only half the story; it was true that Prince George had certainly had an impact on the young Archduchess, but there was more to it than that. Rather than directly influencing her, which was perhaps fortunate given that it would have given the traditionalist nobles a coronary, but rather in the advice and support that he had proved to her over the course of their relationship. It had been this love and support that had allowed Sophia to come out of her shell again, as she had back at UW, which she had withdrawn back into after coming back under the thumb of the overbearing Grand Chamberlain. Once George had helped her regain her confidence, and to stand up for herself again, she had gone from strength to strength and had proven all her critics wrong.

Indeed, politically speaking Sophia was turning out to be a pretty savvy operator, particularly when she put her head together with George, and was working steadily towards the majority she was seeking in the House of Lords, albeit very quietly to avoid tipping off her opponents, particularly the Margrave of Istria who was the ultimate target of the entire scheme. It was, after all, a delicate situation. If the Margrave caught wind of the Archduchess’ plan before it came to fruition god only knew what he would do, and there were half a dozen other concerns that would decide the timing. And that was without considering the news that the Archduchess was planning to break this evening, which would doubtless cause a great deal of consternation for some… hell, if they were lucky it would give the Margrave a coronary and remove him from the equation. Not that George, or indeed, Sophia, believed that they would get anywhere close to being that lucky. Nevertheless, as much as George hated politics, and had been thrilled to be sufficiently unlikely to inherit the Evergreen Throne that he would not have to involve himself overly much in politics of the Kingdom, after being engulfed in complex politics of the Archduchy he found himself enjoying it more than he had expected.

But tonight, was not, truly, for politics.

After that night two years ago, Christmas Eve had become a special night for the two young lovers, and this would prove to be no different. Although their relationship had changed and evolved over the past few months, given George’s posting to the 17th Infantry Division on Malta, but it had defiantly gotten stronger and deeper as a result. Instead of being able to see each other every day, and getting comfortable, they had had to work for it; phone calls at the end of the day, text message and spending the weekend together whenever the division was not on exercise. This meant that that the two had come to value communication, as well as the importance of the time they were able to spend together. Moreover, it had also emphasised to both of them the depth of their feelings for each other and their determination to make it work; as the saying went, distance makes the heart grow fonder. Indeed, it had largely been the proof of the last six months that had prompted their decision.

The Archduchess had, quietly, visited George on Malta and the pair had spent a low-key weekend together exploring the beautiful city of Valetta and its neighbours, taking full advantage of the lull before Christmas to spend some time together. It had been late on the Sunday, after a meal at one of Valetta’s top restaurants, looking out over the Grand Harbour, that George had privately proposed to Sophia; a proposal that she had gleefully accepted. There were some that would say that it was a quick engagement, after only a year and a half of ‘official’ courtship, but that didn’t count the first six months nor did it consider that they had known each other and been close for four years previously. In any case, neither George nor Sophia were particularly inclined to hear objections to their decision, and the only man who could have caused an impediment, the King of Apilonia due to the fact that all marriages of Apilonian Princes or Princesses required approval from the Crown, had been supportive of the match. King William V had, however, warned them of the consequences of their decision, given that some thought would have to be given to how the marriage impacted the relationship between Apilonia and Austria.

Fortunately, they reassured the King that they had in fact discussed the consequences at length. Strictly speaking, given that George was only a Prince and one that was unlikely to ever ascend to the Evergreen Throne, their marriage would not constitute a personal union between the Kingdom and the Archduchy, even if George took up the title of Archduke and ruled alongside Sophia. Indeed, Sophia was adamant on that point that if she was going to ask him to give up his military career for her then he would be no mere consort but a co-ruler, even if they had agreed that she had primacy. Which made the situation somewhat more complicated, as although it did not create a personal union it certainly introduced a very real personal and political connection, one that could not be ignored. As it was Sophia, and she suspected many of her people, were ambivalent towards the potential consequences. On the one hand, they were a proud people with a proud history and did not want to lose that by becoming part of a distant Kingdom; on the other hand there were many cultural and political links over the last three hundred years that made the Apilonians and Austrians feel more like cousins to each other, rather than strangers.

Moreover, the simple fact of the matter was that the Austrians knew that their geopolitical situation was precarious and that joining forces with the Apilonians would significantly improve their strategic position. It would take some negotiating of course, as Sophia had correctly stated that the Austrian nobility and people would only accept a highly autonomous position within the Kingdom if they went down that route, but fortunately the King had signalled his favour of such an arrangement. Afterall, it was a purely pragmatic consideration given that although there were many similarities, not to mention major ex-pat communities in both the Kingdom and the Archduchy, there were sufficient cultural differences that trying to force the Apilonian way of doing things onto them would cause resentment, as such a large degree of autonomy would be beneficial. It was perhaps fortunate, in that respect, that Austria was an Archduchy, and its Archduchess from a long and distinguished line, and as such it would be relatively easy, politically, to justify a special status for the Archduchy within the Kingdom, if it came down to that. However, both the King and the Archduchess had agreed that it would not be solely their decision, it would have to go to the Austrian people.

As such, in the weeks prior to the actual wedding, which it had already been agreed would take place in Austria rather than in the Kingdom, there would be a plebiscite that went before the Austrian people to determine whether the Archduchy should seek to become part of the Kingdom of Apilonia. The exact nature of the relationship would be explained in full prior to the vote, to ensure that it was a properly informed choice rather than an abstract question that would be expanded upon after the fact. It had been a long time since there had been an addition to the Kingdom, certainly not in the modern age in which an enforced annexation wasn’t exactly the order of day, so everyone from the King downwards was eager to ensure that any addition was voluntary. The Kingdom had, in the years since the decline of its colonial empire, prided itself on being a stalwart defender of the rule of law and it wasn’t about to was not about to squander that reputation now.

Of course, the domestic considerations within the Archduchy also had to be considered; and was one of the primary factors that they would have to take into account when considering the timing of Sophia’s political scheme.

“Time for the announcement,” Sophia said softly to George as they made their way towards the raised dais. “Wish me luck.”

George smiled and accompanied her to the foot of the dais, before releasing her hand and allowing her to ascend a few steps above him, staying carefully below her in recognition of her precedence in this setting.

“Good Evening, my Lords and Ladies; friends from distant lands, honoured guests; let me firstly thank you all for coming, as always; my family’s Christmas Ball has long been the highlight of many a social calendar, and I take great pleasure from continuing that tradition,” Sophia began with a smile. “It has been a personal favourite of mine for as long as I can remember… even if it took me a couple of years to get used to being the centre of attention, rather than a young girl merely grateful to be here… I’m sure this year’s debutantes can relate.”

A wry sound of amusement rippled around the ballroom as the debutantes, eighteen year-old young women of aristocratic and upper-class families making their first appearance on the social stage, collectively turned bright red as the attention of the entire room was suddenly on them for a few brief moments.

"It is perhaps not surprising that the size and scale of this event has leant itself well to making important family announcements, given that the affairs of the Habsburgs are the affairs of Austria, and that the affairs of Austria are the concern of our friends and neighbours,” Sophia continued. “Most of you will know my companion this evening; Prince George of Cascadia, grandson of King William V of Apilonia, one of this Archduchy’s closest friends and stalwart supporters… and the love of my life, my rock and my constant encouragement.”

George felt himself blush a little as the eyes of the crowd fixed on him briefly before returning to the Archduchess.

“It is therefore with great pleasure that I announce our engagement.”

On cue, George ascended the steps to stand on the dais himself alongside Sophia; looking out over the surprised crowed as a flurry of surprised and excited conversation swept across the ballroom before breaking into celebratory applause. As he looked around the ballroom, George could largely seen smiling, happy faces; the love the two shared was obvious to all and the vast majority of those present, from home and abroad, were pleased for the young couple. The Apilonian Prince’s sharp eyes did not, however, miss, the small crowd of particularly conservative nobles gathered around the Margrave of Istria, whose cold attitude had been the one damper on the ball’s atmosphere. The Margrave and his supporters looked absolutely furious; clearly, they had not missed the symbolism of George joining Sophia on the dais rather than her descending to him and entering the crowd again to be congratulated. It was a subtle indicator that Sophia intended George to take a position directly by her side; an indicator that would be confirmed in the coming days. It went unnoticed by most in the crowd, even as the Margrave and his faction left the ballroom several hours early, apparently in protest, but it did not go unnoticed by either George or Sophia herself.

“Ignore them,” George said softly in her ear, in a gesture that the rest of the crowd found intimately adorable. “This is our night.”

Sophia smiled and nodded.

“It is,” She affirmed, then smirked. “I hope you’re ready to shake a lot of hands, George, you’re about to be congratulated a lot… I’m quite a catch.”

“That you are,” George agreed, kissing her (relatively chastely, by their standards) on the lips, to the delight of the guests. “Shall we be about it?”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Prince George of Cascadia
St. Stephen’s Cathedral, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Wednesday 29th July 2020, 1100hrs Local Time

---

The majestic form of St. Stephen’s Cathedral basked in the glorious summer sun as the Stephansplatz, the ceremonial square that surrounded it in the centre of Vienna, heaved with bodies, save for a wide corridor in and out of the square to the Cathedral’s main entrance. The corridor was manned by soldiers of the Gardebataillon, the Archduchy’s elite foot guards and personal troops of the Archduchess, in full dress uniform and this corridor had been the centre of attention as a variety of high-ranking and important dignitaries had arrived. Unlike as was normal in the Kingdom, and many other western countries, the bride and groom had arrived together, following the Austrian tradition. As the practice went, the Archduchess had been picked up from the Hofburg by George and his groomsmen, made up of his brother and best man, the Prince Alexander of Cascadia, along with several of his classmates and close friends from the Royal Military Academy, Kingston, before proceeding to the Cathedral as a large group.

They had made quite a smart-looking collection when they had arrived; Prince Alexander in naval dress uniform whilst the rest of the groomsmen, and George himself, who was decked out in his distinctive red Apilonian Army full dress uniform, with the Prince himself bearing the rank of Colonel of the Cascade Guards. George had made his way into the Cathedral after waving to the crowds, having worked hard over the last seven months to further develop his popularity amongst the Austrians and was by now well-liked in his own right not just as the fiancé of the Archduchess. Sophia herself looked stunning; her dress was as much a work of art as it was a garment and those of her bridesmaids weren’t exactly lacking either. The group had gathered to allow the press to take their photographs, and to wave to the cheering crowds, before heading into the Cathedral itself, passing a joint honour guard provided by the Austrian Gardebataillon and a detachment of soldiers from the Apilonian Cascade Guards, representing their Regimental Colonel on the occasion of his wedding. Once they were inside, the couple took a few moments to collect themselves, and to consider the seven hectic months that had passed since they had announced their engagement.

In many respects, the world was a quite different place from how it had been.

Within Austria, the political situation had developed rapidly as both the Archduchess’ scheming and the realities of her marriage to an Apilonian Prince became apparent. The lengthy process of gathering support for her constitutional reform bill, which would transfer powers from the House of Lords to the Chamber of Deputies, had proceeded apace, ironically mirroring a similar process taking place in the Kingdom. Matters had come to ahead a month previously where the plebiscite on whether the Archducal Marriage should constitute a merging with the Kingdom of Apilonia passed with a solid majority, underlining Sophia’s personal popularity as she had led the charge for such an outcome. In light of this, and given that although the Kingdom had agreed that the Archduchy would remain highly autonomous, there would have to be some changes, the decision of many, even traditionalist, nobles had been to admit that the writing was on the wall. As both George and Sophia had hoped the majority of the Austrian House of Lords had swung their weight behind a slightly amended version of the bill that reserved many of their historical rights and privileges, broadly in line with the state of affairs in Apilonia after the Constitutional Reform Act of 2020, whilst granting the Archduchess the authority to revoke ‘certain traditionally hereditary peerages and titles’, such as the Margraviate of Istria.

As it was, Sophia now technically had the authority to revoke the Margrave of Istria’s title and position but had not yet taken that particular action in the hopes that the Margrave could be persuaded to relinquish his power voluntarily. They were, however, on a timetable, given that the Archduchy would formally join the Kingdom on the 31st August and for all the autonomy that Austria had assured the Apilonian Crown was not going to accept a regional paramilitary commander outside of the proper chain of command. In short, either the Austrians could handle their own affairs in the first instance, or Apilonia would, and the other nobles knew that all too well when they had decided to save their own power at the expense of the Margrave that many of them had been stalwart supporters of for years. It was ruthless pragmatism and whilst there were rumours that the Margrave was intending to make a fight of it, which was part of the reason why Sophia was trying to negotiate a peaceful transition of power, the decision of the majority of nobles to abandon the Margrave broadly ensured peace for Austria, save for the potential for a small rebellion of the Margrave didn’t play ball.

Maintaining a sense of unity within the Archduchy, particularly as it prepared to become a highly autonomous region within the larger Kingdom of Apilonia, was even more essential now given the geopolitical changes that had occurred over recent months.

The Kingdom of Apilonia itself had thrown off the last shackles of the decades long decline that it had wallowed in since the loss of much of its colonial empire; finally wading into the deteriorating situation in the former East African Republic. It had been particularly notable because the Kingdom had, as a result of successive governments formed by the Liberal Party whose triumphs in domestic affairs had been at the expense of a catastrophically negligent foreign policy, largely abandoned its former colonies with undue haste. Now, with the Kingdom apparently prepared and willing to clean up its own mess, and even to reverse the de-colonization policy that had in many cases been disastrous for the newly-independent former colonies, it’s own geopolitical footing was shifting dramatically. In many respects, the Kingdom was simply doing what it really ought to have done in the first place, resolving longstanding issues and developing a new framework for administration and governance, whether inside the Kingdom or independently, rather than simply abandoning former colonies who were seen as far too much hassle for a government concentrating on domestic affairs. The Duchy of East Africa, as it was now known, was a prime example as there had been, and remained, a strong loyalist sentiment and an arrangement similar to the one put in place by the Treaty of Asmara would likely have been acceptable.

Instead, East Africa had been relegated to a small, newly independent former colony and had not flourished as many of the hard-line supporters of independence had believed. Had the Apilonian Government of the day demonstrated more leadership, the entire history of the region might have been different. Nevertheless, the Kingdom was finally making amends and moving to stabilise the situation in many former colonies that were struggling, but it had certainly altered Apilonia’s geopolitical stance. Not that many within Austria minded, if anything a more proactive Apilonia was more appealing to them.

Closer to home, although not approaching the borders of the Archduchy directly, north-eastern Europe had erupted into the flames of war as the Realm Cotland found itself under attack by the Confederacy of the Urals earlier in the year, starting as terrorist attacks which had rapidly escalated into a full-blown military conflict. Although the conflict had not spread behind the borders of the Realm and the Confederacy, it was a stark reminder that not only was there a very real risk of conflict in Europe but also that there were threats out there that were prepared to breach both international law and international peace; the attacks by the Confederacy on the Realm of Cotland being atrocious to say the least. It had underlined to many within the Archduchy that the geopolitical position was even more precarious than had been previously thought, and for many that had only increased their support for joining forces with Apilonia. Of course, from the Apilonian perspective the presence of Austria would be a significant enhancement of it’s own geopolitical situation in the Mediterranean as Malta would not be quite as isolated as it had been previously, indeed closer cultural and economic ties were already being fostered between Austria and the Crown Colony.

“Ready, Your Grace, Your Royal Highness?” The Master of Ceremonies asked, in his ornate ceremonial uniform.

George glanced at Sophia who smiled and they both turned back to the Master of Ceremonies and nodded. After a series of nods, music began to play as they began to make their way down the aisle, together in the Austrian tradition. As they walked, George’s sharp eyes spotted a few of their most distinguished guests. In addition to the King of Apilonia, there was also King Sverre of Cotland, on his first foreign visit since the end of the war with the Confederacy, which had been fortuitous as his youngest daughter, Princess Tyra, was fiancé of Prince Alexander and was naturally accompanying him and had been able to reunite with her father after some months. From the Empire of Britannia, which shared a border with the Archduchy, there was Princess Evelyn, the Duke of Saxony, the Duchess Catherina Sophia, and the Duke of Luxembourg. Given the long historic ties between the Empire and Austria, as well as the obvious economic ties and political considerations, it was perhaps unsurprising that they had sent such a large delegation, especially given that the various monarchies of the world tended to ensure that they were appropriately represented at such events.

In addition to the various Kings, Princes and Dukes, George could also see the Ambassadors from the Empire of Layarteb and the Nanfang Republic, the latter by extension representing the Shenzhen Pact, along with the Ambassadors from Zapadoslavia and Portugal. Indeed, had it not been for the fact that President Yang of Nanfang was already in Lisbon meeting with the Prime Ministers of the same it was likely that they would all have been here themselves, both as fellow Europeans and key international partners. All told, it was perhaps a rather prestigious group of dignitaries for a relatively small state like the Archduchy, however given both Austria (and the Habsburgs) historic prominence, and the fact that the Archduchy was joining up with the Kingdom of Apilonia, with whom all the dignitaries had a close relationship, or geopolitical involvement, it was perhaps not surprising. After all, in one swoop the Archduchess of Austria (and her soon-to-be Archduke) would become the single most powerful ‘vassal’ of the Apilonian Crown, fundamentally shifting the Kingdom’s geopolitical view on Europe, with wide-reaching consequences.

After reaching the alter, standing before the Archbishop of Vienna, the ceremony itself began. The first part was a traditional Catholic service, with prayers and readings, until they reached the Rite of Marriage itself.

“Dearly beloved, you have come together in the House of the Church, so that in the presence of your God and your community tour intention to enter into Marriage may be strengthened by the Lord with a sacred seal of this special Sacrament,” The Archbishop of Vienna began formally. “Your love will be enriched with his blessing, so that you may have strength to be faithful to each other for ever and assume all the responsibilities of married life, and so in the presence of the Church, I ask you to state your intentions.”

The Archbishop paused.

“Sophia and George, have you come here to enter into Marriage without coercion, freely and wholeheartedly?”

“I have,” Sophia and George both replied.

“Are you prepared, as you follow the path of Marriage, to love and honour each other for as long as you both shall live.

“I am.”

“Are you prepared to accept children lovingly from God, and to bring them up according to the law of Christ and his Church?”

“I am.”

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church.”

George and Sophia joined hands.

“I, George, take you, Sophia, for my lawful wife, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death us do part,” George said first, smiling fondly at her.

Sophia returned the smile before speaking herself.

“I, Sophia, take you, George, for my lawful husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death us do part.”

“May the Lord, in his kindness, strengthen the consent you have declared before the Church and graciously bring to fulfilment his blessings within you, what God has joined, let no one put asunder,” The Archbishop continued onto the next section of the Rite, now that the couple had declared their commitment to each other. “May the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac, the God of Jacob, the God who joined together our first parents in paradise, strength and bless in Christ the consent you have declared before the Church.”

After a short prayer and an acclamation, the rings were brought up to the alter.

“Bless and sanctify your servants in their love, O Lord, and let these rings, a sign of their faithfulness, remind them of their love for one another, through Christ our Lord.”

The Archbishop blessed the rings and sprinkled them with holy water, before presenting them to George and Sophia.

“Sophia, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity,” George said as he placed the ring onto Sophia’s finger. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

Sophia smiled broadly before taking the other ring.

“George, receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity,” Sophia echoed, placing the ring onto George’s finger. “In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.”

“Then by the holy power vested in me by the Lord our God, I declare you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride.”

George smiled and, gently cupping her cheek, leant down to plant a chaste kiss upon Sophia’s lips, to applause from the congregation.

With the Rite of Marriage completed, the Mass was resumed. Before long, the Mass was over and the congregation would begin to make their way back to the Hofburg for a uniquely Austrian tradition; the Agape. Hosted in one of the smaller rooms within the Hofburg, the Agape was a more informal part of the celebrations, typically held to allow the couple to speak with those guests who were not invited, or not able, to attend the evening’s entertainment. In this case, pretty much all of the congregation (and then some) were invited to the Wedding Feast at the Hofburg, but the Agape still provided the couple a chance to breath and to accept a variety of wedding gifts. As was tradition, and in stark contrast to the opulent surroundings of the Hofburg, only bread, salt, and wine were served at the Agape.

Before the Agape could continue in earnest, however, there was one last order of business that needed to be completed; for upon marrying there had been a question of the title that George in particular would hold. Sophia had been adamant that she wanted him to rule alongside her, as Archduke, even if there was the unspoken agreement that she would take the lead in Austria for obvious reasons, and the House of Lords, at the same time as passing her amended constitutional reform bill, had approved such an arrangement. It would not be written into law, as it would potentially hamstring potential Archdukes, but it was not too much of a concern for those responsible for the agreement as no one with an ounce of intelligence, or who had interacted with the Apilonian Prince for more than a few minutes, had any concerns that he would overstep his bounds. This agreement had been acceptable to the Evergreen Palace as well, as normally the son (or grandson) of a monarch was granted a title of nobility upon his marriage, so George becoming Archduke handled that nicely as it would create a real political link between Apilonia and Austria, especially given that all children of the marriage would continue the line in Austria, effectively creating a cadet branch of the Apilonian Royal Family.

As the guests gathered around the raised dais at the far end of the room, George sank to one knee before Sophia as the Archbishop of Austria approached with an Archducal Hat, a very ornate form of coronet just one step down from a true crown.

“Will you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the Archduchy of Austria, according to their respective laws and customs?” Sophia asked, clearly and loudly.

“I solemnly promise so to do,” George replied formally.

“Will you, to your power, cause Law and Justice, in Mercy, to be executed in all your judgements.”

“I will.”

“Then by the sacred law vested in me, I name you George,” Sophia began, lowering the coronet onto her husband’s head. “Archduke of Austria.”

Applause ringed around the room as George stood and bowed formally to Sophia; his first act as the new Archduke of Austria was an act of submission to the Archduchess Regnant; a gesture that the Austrians in the room greatly appreciated. The new Archduke and Archduchess of Austria turned to the crowed to be announced by the Herald.

“Their Royal Highnesses, the Archduke and Archduchess of Austria.”

In recognition both of George’s own social rank and Royal blood, it had been decided that in return for his Archducal title that Sophia be afforded the dignity of Royal Highness as a result of her marriage to George. It would only remain so for them, however, their offspring and eventual successors would revert to being merely ‘His/Her Highness’. After another applause, George and Sophia settled onto their Archducal Chairs, and would begin to receive their guests, each of whom would be announced by the herald.

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

Placeholder for Joint Post

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

Placeholder for Joint Post

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Archduke of Austria
Rossauer Barracks, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Friday 14th August 2020, 0900hrs Local Time

---

Although it was not the first time George had visited the Austrian Defence Ministry housed in the imposing Rossauer Barracks in the centre of Vienna, given his position as an intelligence officer he had worked closely with Austrian military intelligence, it was the first time he had done so as the new Archduke of Austria. It was a very different feeling to be greeted by both the Defence Minister and the Chief of the General Staff in person, as a distinguished guest, rather than as a lowly allied military officer on business. Of course, as a Royal he was no stranger to being greeted by respectful welcoming committee, it was just that it was in this place that he had become rather used to being able to disappear into the background of the hustle and bustle. Nevertheless, it was a change that he had known he would have to accept when he had started a relationship with Sophia, and one that he was more than prepared to accept as a consequence of that. It would just take more than a little getting used to, as would his public life now being very likely to take place primarily in Austria and it’s holdings.

It was perhaps a very good thing that he had made a concerted effort to learn German, the Archduchy’s official and dominant language, over the past couple of years.

George was attending the Defence Ministry on behalf of Sophia; although they had, publicly, privately, and politically, agreed that she would remain nominally in charge, it made far more sense for him, as the former military officer, to take the lead on security and defence issues. Afterall, for the next two weeks the Archduchy remained officially independent and even once it became part of the Kingdom it would remain highly autonomous and it’s unique position and geopolitical situation would, by necessity, require a rigorous national security policy of it’s own in addition to that of the Kingdom as a whole. As with any Duchy in the Kingdom, and even more so with the Archduchy given its increased autonomy by comparison, it fell to the Archduke and Archduchess to set and carry out that policy. As such matters were far more in George’s ballpark than in Sophia’s, who had developed into a wily political operative now that she had regained her self-confidence, it was simply a case of a division of responsibilities more than anything else. As far as the Austrian Military was concerned, they had no issues with George taking the lead on such matters, as he had developed himself a solid reputation during his service here with the Royal Apilonian Military, particularly as the Austrian armed forces began its integration with the Royal Apilonian Military.

The Austrian Integration was not, however, the reason that George was at the Defence Ministry the very first day after he and Sophia had returned from their honeymoon in the Caribbean, aboard the Royal Yacht Apilonia which had been loaned to them by the King. Rather, it was the nagging and ever-present conundrum posed by the enduring presence of the Margrave of Istria. Although the passing of Sophia’s constitutional reform bill had reinforced her authority to revoke the title, and the power that came with it, they had held off on doing so in order to allow them to enjoy a normal honeymoon. However, every day that they delayed gave the Margrave more and more time to prepare, and the Margrave had spent the last two weeks sprouting rhetoric that would seem to support Istrian Independence, despite the fact that polling suggested that the majority of the population was actually turning away from the idea; the obvious potential economic advantages of becoming part of the Kingdom were obvious. Moreover, it was politically desirable to have the matter resolved by the time the Archduchy formally became a part of the Kingdom at the end of the month; it would be preferable that the Austrians get their own house in order rather than relying on the Apilonians to do it for them.

There was, as there always had been, concern that the Margrave wasn’t going to take matters lying down. Although George had a solid enough understanding of the situation within the Archduchy, due to his posting as an Intelligence Officer, he never the less wanted to get a formal briefing on the matter by the Defence Ministry. Unlike pretty much all of the other Austrian nobles, the Margrave of Istria retained the right to raise and maintain a number of military forces (not just paramilitary or gendarmerie) by virtue of his position in order to ‘defend the Archduchy against assault’. Moreover, by all accounts the Margrave had spent the last few years installing fiercely loyal officers that would be far more likely to refuse an order from Vienna to stand-down in the event that the Margrave refused to accept the impending revocation of his title. There was, and would remain, a glimmer of hope that the Margrave would accept, depart peacefully and disappear into obscurity, this was the 21st Century after all and the man had to know that he simply didn’t have the support, but given all his rhetoric and his obviously strongly held personal beliefs, there was more than enough reason for the widespread concerns in Vienna.

Once the pleasantries were exchanged, tea and particularly (given that this was Vienna) coffee, were provided and the three of them settled into comfortable armchairs in the Defence Minister’s office, the two Austrians began their (relatively informal) briefing for their new Archduke.

“Your Royal Highness, as you are doubtless aware from your morning briefing, we have received leaked legislation from the so-called ‘Istrian National Congress’, which is apparently yet to formally exist, that will declare Istrian independence from the Archduchy,” The Defence Minister, Klaus Olson, began. “This is, of course, totally in contravention to the Austrian constitution and is an illegal act which is to be taken without the necessity for a popular vote, as we expect this Istrian National Congress to be unelected initially, so not one we can tolerate.”

“As we expected,” George nodded his grim understanding.

“Indeed… moreover, the Margrave of Istria is named as the primary initiator of the legislation, so his complicity in this matter is undisputed, however we have got the advantage here in the end, as this legislation was not meant to be made public so soon,” Minister Olson continued. “As such, tomorrow morning the National Police will be executing a warrant for the Margrave’s arrest, which will be issued by the appropriate authorities this evening… the hope is to detain the Margrave without a fight, however should he escape we need to be ready.”

“Very much so,” George agreed. “Especially as I believe from my briefing that the Margrave suspects that we will attempt something like this.”

“Just so, now I suspect that you know most of this already from your time at the Apilonian Embassy, but the Margrave’s position gives him direct control over military forces that we fear that he will use against our own forces in an attempt to gain his independence by force,” Minister Olson explained. “Now much of the Margrave’s forces are designed to be primarily defensive, a road-block to Yugoslavian aggression whilst regular forces get mobilised and into position, but they could be turned against us, which could be bloody.”

“You have a plan though, I take it,” George commented wryly.

“Indeed we do, now obviously our intention is to avoid major fighting, particularly in built-up areas, the last thing we need is destroy a lot of the public goodwill in the region that has already begun to desert the Margrave, so we intend to target military infrastructure,” Minister Olson explained. “In doing so, the Margrave’s ground forces in particular will wither on the vine and realise that the game is up, rather than fighting a hopeless fight, in doing so we hope to keep casualties to an absolute minimum, and of course we’ll give all rebels plenty of chance to surrender before we engage them if we have to.”

“In terms of actual forces, the Margrave has command of three divisions worth of mechanized infantry, which are mainly focused towards a series of well-developed defensive lines facing Yugoslavia, and the commanders know that, so we’re hopeful that we can avoid having to deal with them directly, and the bloodshed that would inevitably result in, by doing as the Minister suggests,” General Tristin Schmidt, the Chief of the General Staff, added. “Of more concern, in terms of actually having to engage them in combat, is the two fighter squadrons, flying old SEPECAT Jaguars, which are of course attack aircraft designed to engage Yugoslavian armoured columns, but could pose some trouble, and the squadron of missile boats stationed at the Split Naval Base, who may attempt to try and give our proper Navy at Trieste, further way from the Yugoslavians and all, a bloody nose.”

“Well those Jaguars in particular sound like they could be an obstacle in our efforts to take out military infrastructure in Istria, and we’ll need to keep an eye on those missile boats as well, the last thing this country needs is the loss of life if any of our ships are hit,” George commented thoughtfully. “That being said, it does sound like we could quite easily deal with both the Jaguars and the missile boats fairly quickly, if we’re ready when this hits the fan, which would allow us to hit our other targets shortly after… ideally we’d do this in short order, the shock and awe effect on the Margraves troops might encourage them to turn on their officers.”

“That was our thinking as well,” Minister Olson nodded. “General Schmidt?”

“We don’t want to tip our hand, so we’re not going to be giving any orders for our ground forces until the Margraves flees from his headquarters outside of Trieste, if indeed he is able to, as it will be difficult to hide two Panzergrenadier divisions surging south,” General Schmidt replied wryly. “However, we can easily put our Typhoons on alert and ready to go without attracting too much attention, they can launch a fighter sweep almost immediately, we also want to get those ships at Trieste that can underway as soon as possible, they’ll be far better able to defend against a missile boat attack at sea, and might just catch the Margrave’s little squadron flat footed by doing so.”

“Our estimates are that we’d only be looking at between two and three hundred enemy casualties at most, and that assumes that every sailor goes down with the ship and every pilot is unable to eject from their aircraft, so the real number is likely to be less,” Minister Olson commented. “Which, given that these people will rightly and legally be seen as rebels for supporting the Margrave, even after the Archduchess revokes his title, we are broadly hopeful that people will tolerate, and we’ll do what we can to keep the number down.”

“Well, it sounds like you have a solid plan, and that you’re ready to move quickly and decisively when this goes down… I suppose they’ll call this the ‘Weekend War’ when they come to write the history books, if it’s over as quickly and decisively as we hope,” George said with a slight smile. “Indeed, I rather suspect that the Margrave is not anticipating us to respond so decisively, or to take the initiative, so we may very well have a good shot at a positive outcome here… so what do you need from me and the Archduchess?”

“Just your consent and authorisation to proceed as necessary in the manner I’ve just described, our ability to react quickly is essential,” General Schmidt. “Obviously, we’ll hold off and reach out to the Hofburg if we need authorisation anything beyond the rules of engagement.”

“Very well, and I can safely say that I am speaking on behalf of the Archduchess here, when I say that you have our trust, confidence, and our authorisation to proceed as you’ve described,” George said firmly, after a moments pause. “As you say, speed and decisiveness will be essential in pulling this off, so we have no problems with you getting the job done… but please do keep us fully informed, and we’ll be fully available to you, if you need us.”

“Very well, Your Royal Highness,” Minister Olson nodded. “We’ll get the job done.”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

Chefinspektor Ezra Prosacco
Margraviate Military Headquarters, South of Trieste
The Archduchy of Austria
Saturday 15th August 2020, 0800hrs Local Time

---

The six Audi A6s, black save for the seal of the National Police on their doors, had swept through the Free City of Trieste in silence; the roads were all but empty and there was no need to announce their presence. It had been a long, tense drive from Vienna; once the warrant for the arrest of the Margrave had been issued it had been decided that a specialist team from Headquarters was the best suited to actually attempt to arrest the Margrave. Each of the vehicles held four officers, including two sergeants, and were led by Chefinspektor Prosacco, a distinguished veteran with a long career within the National Police. Every officer within the convoy knew that they were driving into harm’s way; the prevailing consensus was that the Margrave was unlikely to take his detention lying down and there was every possibility that he would resist arrest. Given that they had no choice but to detain him at his Military Headquarters, just inside Istria to the south of Trieste, it was entirely possible that his military forces would act to prevent them from doing so.

Although he had no combat units stationed at the Headquarters, knowing better than to provoke the Austrian commander of the Trieste Garrison, there was still a security detachment and all indications were that they would not listen to the (legal) directions of the National Police on this matter.

Events had proceeded apace since the Archduke had been briefed on the military options in the event that the Margrave confounded his treason, plotting to secede from the Archduchy without permission, by resisting attempts to take him into custody. Late the previous evening, after the Archduke had advised the Archduchess on the military options he had been briefed on, the Archduchess had issued a Decree of Attainder which stripped the Margrave of his rank, titles, and declared him a traitor. The Supreme Court of Justice had approved a request by the Vienna Prosecutors for a warrant for the arrest of the former Margrave, now legally known merely as Raphael Bahringer, as although the Archduchess could revoke his title on her own authority he would still need to be tried by a court of law to be criminally convicted of his treason, even if the evidence was largely indisputable and had been shared with the House of Lords… where Bahringer would rapidly find himself without friends to call upon; even the most traditionalist nobles had been aghast at such outright sedition and treason.

When they pulled up to the walled compound that housed the Margrave’s Military Headquarters their National Police credentials and the arrest warrant from the Supreme Court of Justice was sufficient to get them through the main gate. The Sergeant of the Guard made a snap judgement and decided that he was sufficiently outnumbered to disregard the advantage that he and his men had, cover and superior readiness, and the disadvantages that the National Police officers had, being stuck in their cars at the start of any firefight. It was a smart decision, as his small eight man guard detail would have been overwhelmed pretty quickly, as unseen to him the officers each of the cards in the convoy had already drawn down on the military guards. Moreover, as a non-commissioned officer, the Sergeant had been disregarded by the Margrave who had concentrated only on installing officers into his personal forces that he could trust. If there had been an officer, even a junior lieutenant, then things might have gone differently but as it was Chefinspektor Prosacco’s team was able to proceed unhindered.

Unfortunately, that was where their good luck ended.

As they pulled up into the parade square in front of the main headquarters building soldiers began to emerge from the surrounding buildings in a wide circle around the National Police who responded immediately. As per both their training and their pre-raid instructions, the drivers had deliberately parked their vehicles in a circle of their own to provide protection in the event of just such a situation like this, and as soon as the soldiers began to emerge the National Police Constables quickly exited their vehicles and took up defensive positions using their vehicles as cover. Except for Chefinspektor Prosacco who was just armed with a standard-issue sidearm, a Glock 17, the rest of the Constables were armed with Steyr AUGs, the same as the soldiers that were surrounding them. It was comparatively unusual for the National Police to be equipped with such weapons, typically favouring the SIG MPX, however given that there was every chance of a firefight with armoured military soldiers it had been deemed prudent to give them every possible advantage.

Before the situation could escalate, however, Raphael Bahringer appeared from the headquarters building in full dress uniform and made his way down the steps towards the circle of National Police vehicles. Although the gathered soldiers, who numbered maybe thirty, a full platoon at least, and therefore outnumbered the twenty-four National Police officers, kept their weapons raised and shouldered they did noticeably relax, if only slightly. Chefinspektor Prosacco glanced around at the situation, assessing the situation, before stepping forwards; his own officers keeping their weapons raised as well. It was an unenviable position; his men were outnumbered and caught in a crossfire and although these particular Audis had been specially modified for tactical operations, and as such offered a degree of protection due to their armoured inserts, but Chefinspektor Prosacco was under no illusions that he would lose a prolonged firefight. It was for that reason that he had hand picked this team, either well respected members of the National Police’s tactical teams or former infantry soldiers, to ensure that his men would respond well under fire as if they were to survive this encounter they would need to quickly and decisively win the firefight before the superior numbers of the Margrave’s troops won out.

It appeared, however, that the former Margrave was wanting to talk, so Chefinspektor Prosacco stepped out from behind the vehicles and holstered his sidearm.

“What is the meaning of this, Chefinspektor?” Bahringer demanded.

“Mister Bahringer, by order of their Graces, the Archduke and Archduchess of Austria, I am here to execute a warrant duly issued by the Supreme Court of Justice for your arrest on charges of treason, sedition, and crimes,” Chefinspektor Prosacco said formally, not really expecting it to make any difference, so he raised his voice. “Soldiers; Mister Bahringer has been attained and stripped of his rank and titles by Archduke with the consent of the House of Lords; this man no longer has power over you… do not join his treason, it will not save you.”

Glancing around, Chefinspektor Prosacco could see more than a few of the enlisted soldiers look around at their comrades uncertain, but their officer, a Major which was highly unusual for a group this size, was unmoved and called out orders to his men instructing them to stand fast.

“You don’t actually believe you’ll be able to carry out those orders, do you, Chefinspektor?” Bahringer laughed. “Your tactical situation is not a positive one.”

“I will do my duty,” Chefinspektor Prosacco said firmly. “As will my men.”

“Then I wish you well,” Bahringer replied simply, then raised his voice to issue orders to his men. “Hold them here… do not fire unless they do.”

With that Bahringer turned and began to walk back into the headquarters building. Now Chefinspektor Prosacco had a difficult decision to make; if he allowed Bahringer to simply leave he would have failed to carry out his orders or even attempted to do so. On the other hand, Bahringer had (very cleverly, which was unsurprising given the man’s reputation) ensured that the blame for any firefight would fall directly on Chefinspektor Prosacco’s shoulders. Nevertheless, there really wasn’t a decision to be made; if the reputation of the National Police was to be maintained, and the rule of law to remain, then they could not simply allow a traitor to escape without attempting to detain him; lest it give others the wrong idea that they could get away with such treason. So Chefinspektor Prosacco slowly walked back to the vehicles, and looked around at his men as he slowly and deliberately drew his Glock and held it by his side.

“Challenge them,” He ordered quietly.

As ordered, the gathered Constables immediately shouted challenges; instructing the surrounding soldiers to put down their weapons. A few of the soldiers wavered, typically the older less idealistic, however the Major raised his pistol at the nearest surrendering soldier, clearly intending to execute him for his ‘cowardice’ to try and keep the rest of his men in line, but found himself on the receiving end of a bullet as Chefinspektor Prosacco’s sidearm flashed up and he squeezed off a shot. Despite the distance, the Chefinspektor’s shot struck the Major right between the eyes, dropping him to the ground. On instinct both the soldiers and the National Police constables opened fire; the latter having the upper hand initially as the soldiers were out in the open whereas the Constables were in cover behind their armoured vehicles. Quickly enough however the soldiers recovered, their NCOs quickly reorganising their troops and putting them into hard cover around the side of the buildings; which Chefinspektor Prosacco knew that he could not afford to ignore and made the decision to order half his men out of their defensive position and to flank the soldiers before they could get established, pinned down as they were by the Constables still firing from behind their vehicles.

Satisfied with the tactical situation on the parade square, Chefinspektor Prosacco gestured to two Constables and led them on a short dash across open ground between the vehicles and the headquarters building. Once inside although they encountered military personnel none of these offered any resistance and surrendered quickly as the Chefinspektor and his two Constables made their way quickly through the building. Following a hunch, Chefinspektor Prosacco led the way to the main stairwell and quickly advanced up it, exchanging fire with a few soldiers once they reached the top but dropping them in short order. They emerged onto the roof a few moments too late and watched as a Bell 212 Twin Huey climbed away from the rooftop landing pad and rapidly sped away southwards even as the three National Police officers fired a few forlorn shots in its direction. Chefinspektor Prosacco swore angrily as he watched the helicopter rapidly disappear, however it’s departure did seem to have taken the fight out of the remaining soldiers on the parade square who were quickly taken into custody.

As he made his way back down through the headquarters building, already able to hear additional police units arriving from Trieste, Chefinspektor Prosacco reluctantly took out his radio and reported their failure to his superiors. Regretful as it was, this outcome had been possible and planned for, meaning that before Bahringer had even touched down at his fallback base the Austrian contingency plan would have started, much to his detriment.

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

Commander Jessica A. Harrington, RN
HMS Tempest D94
Territorial Waters of the Archduchy of Austria, Adriatic Sea
Saturday 15th August 2020, 0900hrs Local Time

---

Strictly speaking, the Royal Navy was not supposed to be involved in the burgeoning internal conflict between Vienna and the attainted Margrave. Both Vienna and Seattle had been very clear to all Apilonian military was supposed to stay out of the conflict, for a variety of political reasons. It had been seen as important that the Austrians get their own house in order before joining the Kingdom at the end of the month; aside from anything else it was bad optics, for all concerned, if the Apilonians got involved in internal Austrian politics (as even after the Archduchy became part of the Kingdom it would remain highly autonomous). It was very true that there were more than enough Apilonian military assets in the Mediterranean Theatre, most of them based in the Crown Colony of Malta, to have provided a wide range of military support to the Archduchy if requested. Nevertheless, Seattle had formally made the offer even if it had been well known that Vienna would politely decline, a decision helped by the fact that it was unlikely that the help would be needed in any case. There was no point in causing a negative political optic when it was broadly unnecessary.

However, events had conspired to make no Apilonian involvement completely possible to attain. Three days prior to the confirmation of the Margrave’s treasonous intentions His Majesty’s Ship Tempest had arrived at the Trieste Naval Base on a routine port of call; a regular occurrence given the defence cooperation between the Kingdom and the Archduchy. As per the original intention, the Tempest would have proceeded southwards out of the combat zone before everything kicked off, however events had come to ahead far too quickly and that placed the Apilonian warship in a difficult position. Staying in Trieste was a dangerous gamble as it was possible that the Margrave’s naval forces would launch an attack against all shipping in Trieste harbour, in which case the ship would be at a severe disadvantage when it came to defending herself. Proceeding southwards was equally dangerous; as there were concerns that the Margrave’s naval forces were preparing to blockade the northern Adriatic to prevent Austrian warships from attacking coastal targets within the Margraviate, and they might not adequately identify their targets prior to attacking. Of course getting underway, a non-brainer in order to ensure the ship was able to maneuverer in its own defence, was hardly ideal either, for much the same reason.

As such, and after a hurried conference between the Tempest, the Apilonian Admiralty and the Austrian Admiralty, a compromise had been struck. The Tempest would get underway and sail in company with the Austrian warships, as a ship on it’s own would arguably be an even more tempting target to hostile vessels, and it would contribute to the defensive effort but would not conduct any offensive action against the Margrave’s naval forces. In this fashion not only could the Tempest defend itself but it could also assist the Austrians in a non-invasive way that would only save lives as opposed to taking them, which no sane individual could have an objection to. It just so happened that the Tempest was the best possible ship that could have been fortuitously able to accompany the Austrians, and the irony was not lost on anyone in the Austrian Squadron as it proceeded southwards. Although each of the four Hydra-Class frigates that had been able to get underway was equipped with the RIM-162 Evolved Sea Sparrow Missile, and thus had excellent point defence capability, they lacked long-range surface to air missile capability either against enemy missiles or enemy aircraft.

By contrast the Tempest was a Type-43 Paladin-Class guided missile destroyer, whose entire purpose was air defence. Although the Type-43 was rather outdated in some respects, being equipped with old-style twin-arm launchers rather than the more modern vertical launch system, the class was relatively young even if it was already being replaced by the far newer and more advanced Type-45 Vigilant-Class which meant that although some advances were not possible what could be upgraded was upgraded. As a result, although no longer suited for a modern high-risk environment the Type-43 was more than sufficient for a lower-threat environment, or against a high-intensity attack by equally outdated hostiles. As a result, the remaining two squadrons of Type-43s were typically reserved for appropriate environments and were no longer used as escorts for a capital vessel. However, in this environment, against older missile boats equipped with first-generation P-15 Termit missiles, the upgraded radar and third-generation Sea Dart and Sea Wolf missiles would do a great deal of good. As such, given the existing capabilities of the Austrian frigates and the threat environment, there was arguably no better ship assigned to the Apilonian Mediterranean Station that could have been present (without it being easy for conspiracy theorists to paint it as a planned presence).

Regardless of the political situation, Tempest’s commanding officer, Command Jessica A. Harrington, was relieved for the simplicity of the tactical situation when compared to the confusing and unclear one that it could have been if Tempest was on her own. The Tempest was cruising at the rear of the Austrian formation, her long-range Sea Darts would not be disadvantaged by being a few cables astern whilst the ESSMs of the Austrian frigates would be far more productive at the front of the formation. Operating at action stations, the Tempest was fully cleared for battle, all her watertight doors were closed and the damage control teams were standing by even as the warfare officers and specialists manned their stations ready to fight the ship. With the exception of the Bombardment on East Africa, in which there was no real threat, this was the first time in some years that an Apilonian warship was operating in an environment when it was almost certain that she was going to come under enemy fire.

Commander Harrington was monitoring the situation from the Operations Room; her console being optimized for a broad situational awareness rather than for engaging an enemy threat, which was the concern of her subordinates at her direction. Both the surface and air warning had been increased to red, the highest level, over the last hour following the failed attempt by the Austrian National Police to detain the Margrave at his headquarters near Trieste and his flight southwards. Although Austrian Typhoons were already getting in the air and preparing to launch a fighter sweep, and it was assumed that the Margrave’s two fighter squadrons would attempt to contest the air superiority, there was a possibility that at least some of them would launch an attack upon the ‘Austrian’ squadron in support of the naval effort. Given that the Jaguar attack aircraft was armed with the AS.37 Martel anti-ship missile there was a very real risk after all. Indeed, Commander Harrington personally expected the Margrave to do just that; the only hope he had for a positive outcome was to sufficiently bloody the Vienna’s nose that he could secede as too much effort to bring back into the fold… and for all his faults, no one said that the attainted Margrave was a fool.

“Contact, Contact, Contact; twelve bogeys coming in low and fast from red four-five,” The Air Warfare Officer, the warfare officer responsible for anti-air warfare, reported crisply. “No IFF, flight profile suggest Jaguar attack aircraft.”

“Well there they are, designate Alpha One through Twelve” Commander Harrington commented dryly. “Paint with fire control.”

“Roger, designating unknown air contacts Alpha One through Twelve,” The AWO confirmed. “Locking them up with the 909s.”

“Austrian Commodore issuing challenge,” The Principle Warfare Officer, the senior warfare officer, reported. “No res-“

“Red Dog! Red Dog! Red Dog! Missile separation on Alpha One through Twelve, six birds in the air!”

With the shouted report from one of the air warfare specialists the entire atmosphere in the Operations Room changed; ‘Red Dog’ was the unmistakable warning that an anti-ship missile had been detected and was inbound, the Royal Navy’s counterpart to the ‘Vampire’ call used by some other naval forces.

“Roger, kill with Sea Wolf,” Commander Harrington ordered crisply.

“Killing with Sea Wolf,” The AWO replied; immediately commencing a series of responses with his team that would indeed engage the inbound anti-ship missiles, liaising closely but quickly with the Austrian frigates to avoid a duplication of effort. “Bandits still inbound.”

Commander Harrington paused for a moment; technically she wasn’t supposed to engage enemy forces directly, however she knew that the Jaguar attack aircraft was capable of carrying two Martel missiles and had only fired one apiece meaning that they still posed a threat to the squadron. Only the Tempest had the ability to hit them before they could launch their missiles, and a second twelve missile salvo could be dangerous. It was outside of her orders, but she was the officer ‘on the ground’ and she would stand by her decision.

“Target bandits Alpha One through Twelve,” Commander Harrington ordered. “Kill with Sea Dart.”

The Type-43, unlike the Type-42 design which it had beaten out during the design phase, was armed with two twin Sea Dart missile launchers; one fore and one aft, which was one of the reasons why it was significantly larger (the other being increased survivability and endurance), which meant that it was able to four Sea Dart Mod 5 missiles per salvo rather than just two (which, back when she had first been designed, had been a substantial advantage).

Four Sea Darts sped away from the Apilonian destroyer and slashed into the Istrian formation, downing three of the four aircraft they were targeted against. Whilst it would be over twenty seconds before a second salvo was fired, a key reason that newer Apilonian warships were equipped with the vertical launch system, the opening salvo had the effect that Commander Harrington had hoped it would; breaking up the incoming raid as the survivors took evasive action. By doing so, this prevented a second wave of Martel missiles being launched against the Apilonian-Austrian squadron, and although the second salvo was less effective, downing only two more Jaguars due to the fact that they were already evading rapidly, it was sufficient to persuade the Istrians not to attempt another attack run against the joint squadron. Moreover, their attack was reported back to an Austrian AWACs aircraft that was co-ordinating the fighter sweep and a flight of Typhoons was vectored in to engage the remnants of the raid and none of the remaining eight Jaguars would make it back to their base to launch any follow-up attacks. Combined with the successful destruction of the second Istrian squadron by the Austrian Typhoons effectively removed the air threat to the joint squadron.

It was a commendable attempt from a strategy perspective, but it probably wouldn’t have succeeded even without the presence of the Tempest and with the Apilonian destroyer breaking up raid there had been absolutely no chance for it to succeed. Indeed, between the ESSMs fired from the Austrian frigates, and the Sea Wolf missiles fired from Tempest, the squadron had succeeded in destroying all twelve of the Martel missiles fired by the Jaguars. As reports of the lack of damage to the Austrian ships came into the Operations Room, a few cheers echoed around the dark compartment.

“Surface contact,” The Surface Warfare Officer, responsible for the surface engagement, snapped crisply, cutting the celebrations short into sudden, utter silence. “Eight small surface contacts, bearing one eight zero, line abreast formation.”

“Red Dog, Red Dog, Red Dog, from the surface contacts,” The AWO added a moment later. “Reading one, correction, two waves of sixteen missiles apiece.”

Harrington swore internally but kept a neutral face externally, not that anyone could see her expression behind her anti-flash gear; the Jaguar attack made a lot more sense now. Unless she was very much mistaken it had been the Istrian’s intention for the Jaguar attack to coincide with this attack by their surface assets; which would have been far more effective, particularly if the Margrave and his planning staff had worked on the assumption that it would be just the Austrian frigates and not an Apilonian destroyer as well. As it was there were still thirty-two missiles bearing down upon them; it was not a true saturation attack, as that would have entailed missiles coming in on several different vectors, doubtless that was why the Jaguars had come in from almost the opposite bearing to the missile boats
but it was far from harmless. Even if all coming from the same vector, thirty-two missiles would stretch the missile defence capability of the squadron to it’s limit. It was normal practice to use two defensive missiles to target any one incoming missile; the logic being that when the safety of the ship was concerned it was far better to waste one missile firing two than to fire one and have that one be ineffective. It was largely for this reason that the vertical launch system had been developed; as likely threat profiles increased there simply needed to be a capacity to carry more missiles and to fire them far quicker.

“Hostile wave two, kill with Sea Dart,” Harrington ordered crisply, her voice remaining even despite the circumstance. “Any stragglers, kill with Sea Wolf and CIWS

In an attack like this, Tempest was at a severe disadvantage compared to even the smaller and lighter armed Austrian frigates. Harrington knew that the Istrian naval force almost certainly consisted of eight Osa-Class missile boats, and she also knew that when designed the working assumption had been that it would take twelve missiles to get through the defences of, and assure the destruction of, a destroyer like the Tempest which could be fired by as few as three missile boats for a fraction of the cost and manpower. There was a reason, after all, why missile boats had been adopted by the world’s smaller navies who wanted to have the ability to threaten even the largest enemy vessels close to their own shores. Of course, the upgrades that the Tempest and her remaining classmates had been given helped rebalance matters, and it helped that based on latest naval intelligence the Istrian missile boats were unlikely to be state of the art themselves, but the Apilonian destroyer would have struggled to defend herself against an attack of this size on her own.

Fortunately, HMS Tempest was not alone.

Even as Tempest began to target the second wave with Sea Dart salvoes as quickly as she could manage, four missiles every twenty seconds was about as quick as both the twin arms could sustain, which still accounted for two enemy missiles per salvo, the Austrians sprung into action as well to handle the first wave which was already slashing in on them. ESSMs sped away from each of the four Austrian frigates; collectively they carried sixty-four missiles but had expended twenty-four of them dealing with the Martel missiles from the Jaguars. Through the forty remaining ESSMs carried across the four Austrian frigates, which were ripple fired at the incoming Istrian missiles, the first wave went down clear of the squadron, whilst the second wave had been cut down significantly by the Sea Darts from Tempest with only eight missiles surviving to enter attack range of the squadron. By this point, unfortunately, the Austrian frigates were down to countermeasures and CIWS, however Tempest downed three more enemy missiles with Sea Wolf, whilst each Austrian frigate destroyed or successfully confused the tracking of one missile each, however the last remaining enemy missile cut through all the defences and struck the Austrian Frigate Geneva amidships.

“Geneva has been hit.”

“Bridge reporting black smoke, likely fire on board.”

Harrington was silent for a moment as she considered the best course of action; obviously one of the ships of the squadron would need to stop and render assistance to the Geneva however the rest of them still needed to go after the Istrian missile boats; the last thing that she wanted was for them to slink off back to Split and reload their missiles for another crack at them. Moreover, the Geneva had been the flagship for the squadron, which meant that they were now out of communication with the Commodore. Technically speaking, command ought to devolve to the most senior Austrian naval officer presence, but Harrington was concerned that, given that the Austrians were effectively without defences against another attack, they would be loath to push the action forward as aggressively as she believed to be necessary. This was not an opinion that she would have been unique in; the Apilonian Navy had a long tradition and reputation of being particularly aggressive when it came to carrying an action to as decisive a conclusion as possible.

“Signal Salzburg, request that they render assistance to Geneva as required, we’ll cover their withdrawal north towards Trieste,” Harrington ordered crisply. “Signal Graz and Zurich, order them to follow us, we need to chase these bastards all the way back to Split.”

After a few moments of silence, as the Apilonians waited to see whether they would follow the lead of the Apilonian Navy, signals came back from each of the three remaining serviceable Austrian warships that they would do as instructed. Tempest, Graz and Zurich pushed their engines to flank speed and sped southwards away from the badly damaged Geneva. Although the missile boats had the advantage of speed, by as much as ten knots, the sea state was beginning to pick up as a storm worked its way into the area, in which the missile boats were at a severe disadvantage when it came to making progress compared to the larger frigates and particularly the Tempest. As it was the Tempest and her consorts would work their way into range of their main guns over the next hour, including the two 5-inch guns of the Apilonian destroyer (one fore, one aft, similar to the Sea Dart launchers) and began to take shots as the fleeing Istrian missile boats. In spite of the modern fire control systems the accuracy still left much to be desired, due in no small part to the increasingly unpleasant sea state, but neither Harrington nor either of the Austrian commanders wanted to waste expensive anti-ship missiles on missile boats that had shot their wad and were of very little threat.

The Tempest and her consorts would accomplish their missile some ten miles short of Split over the course of the day, with the last Istrian missile boat surrendering as it became obvious that the Graz was moving to cut them off from the naval base itself. In total, the three ships had sunk three Istrian missile boats, severely damaged three more and the remaining two had surrendered once it became clear that their chances of escape were minimal to say the least. Almost as soon as the fighting was over, and declaring their attentions on the VHF, the three ships immediately began to render assistance to the missile boats that they had either sunk or damaged, despite the risks involved operating as such in a deteriorating sea state. Any self-respecting mariner would have done the same, even in combat, but it was particularly important given the nature and circumstances of this particular conflict.

“Graz and Zurich reporting all survivors aboard.”

“Very good, stand down from action stations, stand to the defence watches,” Harrington nodded, at long last allowing herself to relax and tug down anti-flash gear and to smile. “Signal Graz and Zurich… follow mother.”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Archduke of Austria
Rossauer Barracks, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Saturday 15th August 2020, 1900hrs Local Time

---

It had been a busy day for the Austrian Military.

After the failed attempt by the National Police to detain the attainted Margrave at his headquarters south of Trieste, a longshot to be fair but one that could have been successful and was more than worth the attempt, the military situation had developed quickly. Although it would be unfair to say that it had gone poorly for the Austrians, as they were broadly in control of the military situation, it would be fair to say that it had not gone as planned. However, the professionalism of the Austrian Military had shone through and they had responded quickly and efficiently to a rapidly changing situation in a manner that had ensured a positive outcome. When push came to shove, it had been a foregone conclusion that, if it possessed the will and the grit to carry it through, Vienna would be victorious in any engagement with regional militia forces and that it was just a matter of time for how long that process took. Afterall, Vienna could call upon significantly more, and better equipped and trained, forces than the former Margrave of Istria could, although doing so would take longer, the Margrave had rolled the dice that Vienna would be a pushover, and could not have been more wrong.

As it happened, things had started to move away from the plan almost immediately. As planned a squadron of Typhoons had been sent into Istrian airspace to perform a fighter sweep of the Istrian Jaguar ground attack aircraft, however only half the expected number had taken to the skies (and promptly been destroyed by the more advanced Typhoons and their longer-ranged missiles). The reason for this had quickly become obvious when the Austrian naval squadron in the Adriatic had reported that it was under missile attack from a group of Jaguars. The Typhoons were, by that point, operating at the edge of their endurance, having expended a significant amount of fuel engaging the first Istrian squadron, so half the Austrian squadron had broken off to refuel at a tanker aircraft, leaving only a single flight to deal with the remaining Istrian fighters now that they had been located. Fortunately, however, not only had the warships been able to fend off the missile attack but they had been able to down a third of the aircraft attacking them and broken up the raid without too much difficulty and in any case the longer-ranged missiles employed by the Austrians proved decisive.

On the Adriatic the Austrian naval squadron had narrowly avoided getting caught between a hammer and an anvil. From immediate after action reports received from the squadron it appeared that the Istrian battle plan had been to launch a co-ordinated attack between the Jaguars and their missile boats, catching the squadron between fire from two vastly different directions in the hope of overwhelming their defences and giving Vienna a bloody nose that would make them think twice. Indeed, had the attack been successful and hundreds of Austrian sailors been killed then this would have given Vienna pause. However, the Jaguars had attacked a few minutes too early and the squadron had been able to fight off and break up that raid before pivoting to defend against the new threat from the missile boats. There had been some casualties of course, as the frigate Geneva had been struck by an Istrian missile and taken heavy damage. Although her damage control parties had worked throughout the day to save the ship, and it was now under tow back to Trieste due to damage to her engines, initial surveys suggested that a repair would be uneconomical and that the ship would likely need to be scrapped.

Nevertheless, events could have unfolded far worse for the Austrians and George, watching from the main operations room at the Austrian Ministry of Defence alongside Sophia this time, could not help but feel both pride, in the fact that an Apilonian destroyer had gotten tangled up in the naval fight and proved decisive, and immense relief that they had succeeded in blunting the military capabilities of the disgraced Margrave. Of course, they were not out of the woods yet and there was still three divisions of infantry to be convinced into calling it a day, even if they were militia they posed a very real threat particularly if they had to be dug out of defensive positions as that was exactly the role they were supposed to play against the Yugoslavs. Although they would not benefit from the extremely well developed defensive lines against the Yugoslavs, but they would have had the last few weeks to develop decent defensive positions facing the north and that would give them an advantage.

As such, the second stage of the Austrian campaign would soon start.

After the mornings engagements the Austrians had deliberately held back from following-up their initial successes with a general air campaign, as was the plan. Although it had already been decided that any air campaign would need to be short, sharp, and decisive, to inspire shock and awe in the militia troops and encourage them to turn on their officers, it had also been decisive that from a psychological perspective it would be better to allow the mornings events to sink in before attacking. Afterall, even the lowest Istrian militiaman had to know that their air cover had been effectively removed and that they were at the mercy of the Austrian Air Force; the longer they had to wait for the hammer blow that they had to know was coming the bigger impact it would have when it came. Even if Vienna fully intended to avoid directly targeting concentrations of Istrian troops, instead targeting vital military infrastructure, the meaning of the attack would be as clear as it was magnanimous. Afterall, all indicators were that the common Istrian militiaman was mainly standing against Vienna due to the influence of their officers and the anti-Vienna rhetoric that the Margrave had been spewing for most of the past few years. As such a decisive, but restrained, attack by Vienna would do wonders to undermine the Margrave’s rhetoric regarding Vienna’s view of Istria, and if all went to plan would encourage the militia to turn on their officers.

If that happened, then the militia themselves would likely detain the Margrave themselves and hand him over to Vienna. Afterall, Vienna bore no ill will towards the general populous of Istria, far from it they saw them as Austrian citizens as much as if they were in Vienna themselves. It was largely for that reason that Vienna, George and Sophia in particular, were approaching this situation with the kid gloves firmly on; they had no desire to visit unrestrained violence upon their own people, even if they were following their Margrave in military rebellion. As had always been clear; Austria was not truly at risk in this situation, not existentially in any event, meaning that it could afford to approach the situation with restraint and magnanimity in the hopes of avoiding further bloodshed.

“When do you propose launching the air campaign, Minister?” Sophia asked, leaning forwards to look at the digital map more closely.

“Shortly after nightfall, Your Grace; a night campaign is always significantly more effective from a psychological perspective, and if we can keep the Istrian militia from getting any real sleep tonight their nerves, and their patience, are likely to be very thin by morning,” Minister Olson replied promptly. “As you both know, Your Graces, we’re doing everything we can to put additional pressure on the psychological side of things; these aren’t professional soldiers and, when push comes to shove, we aren’t Yugoslavs pouring over the border, so if we push them hard enough I think we can convince the militia we’re not worth putting up the same resistance they would if Yugoslavia attacks.”

“I hope you are right, Minister,” Sophia said grimly. “Aside from anything else, I assume a rebuilding and restoration process in Istria, after all this is over, will be significantly easier if we’ve not had to kill a lot of militiamen in the process.”

“Infinitely easier, Your Grace,” General Schmidt commented wryly from the other side of the map display. “The Minister is correct, we have to play this very carefully.”

“Of course,” Sophia replied. “We’d like to stay here for the duration, if that’s okay with you.”

“By all means, Your Grace, we’d be honoured to have you here with us,” General Schmidt nodded, pleased by his Archduchess’ willingness to ‘rough it’ to oversee the campaign. “We have a few on-call rooms here, mainly for the duty watch, but I’ll arrange for one to be prepared for your personal use.”

By the time that the Archduke and Archduchess were settled into the on-call room, received and worked through the various state papers from the day that they needed to attend to, it was almost time for the air campaign to begin. George and Sophia returned to the operations room shortly after ten and the first wave of Typhoons were assembling over Austria ready to commence their strikes into the rebel-held portion of Istria. Ironically, although there was obviously no response from Istria due to the destruction of the Margrave’s aircraft, there was a noticeable response from the Yugoslav Air Force south of the border being reported by Austrian radar. It was to be expected; there was no way that Yugoslav early warning radar had not detected both the earlier engagements and the new concentration of Austrian Typhoons taking to the sky. Whilst the day’s events ought to have given the Politburo in Belgrade some reassurance that this was not the beginning of an attack against the People’s Republic, a reassurance that had been echoed by the Austrian Ambassador in Belgrade, both prudence and their suspicious nature compelled them to put their own aircraft, likely MiG-29s, in the air as a precaution.

It was not long before the Austrian Typhoons, two squadrons worth, turned southwards and began to split off into two and four aircraft flights to strike their allocated targets. Given that all of the Austrian Military’s air defence capability was firmly in the hands of the central military, not the militia, there was no minimal threat to the Typhoons from the ground fire save for MANPADs and they could stay high and out of range. This meant that the Typhoons did not have to waste expensive standoff missiles in order to stay out of the range of defensive weapons and could instead use the shorter-ranged but significantly cheaper options like JDAMs and a variety of Paveways and other precision bombs.

Over the course of the following ninety minutes the Austrian Air Force struck several dozen targets across Istria; primarily the extensive military infrastructure that criss-crossed the region originally intended to be used in any war with Yugoslavia. It would be expensive to replace, which was part of the reason why the decision had been made to destroy it as cheaply as possible, however the Defence Ministry was trying to put a positive spin on the situation by pointing that much of the infrastructure had been slated for upgrade or replacement anyway. Of course, there were lingering concerns that it would significantly reduce their ability to defend against a Yugoslav invasion, however the likelihood of such an attack happening any time soon was minimal and the Defence Ministry would make bringing the border defences back up to snuff a top priority. In any event, the border defences in Istria were not the only means by which Austria could defend itself against the Yugoslavs, and the various battle plans that the Defence Ministry maintained as a matter of course would be updated to reflect the new operational reality in the southern parts of the Archduchy.

“Well, that’s the first wave completed, Your Grace,” General Schmidt reported. “All of the primary targets have been successfully hit, we’ll spend the rest of the night hitting secondary and tertiary targets to keep the militia up tonight and demoralised.”

“We should probably call it a night and leave them to it, love,” George said softly, turning to Sophia. “There’s not point staying up all night.”

“I’ll make sure that the duty officer wakes you both if anything goes amiss… the Minister and I will be turning in ourselves,” General Schmidt nodded his agreement. “Once all is said and done, the next few hours are neither difficult nor particularly dangerous, and respectfully you both need sleep, Your Graces.”

“Very well, you both make good points,” Sophia replied with a slight smile. “You make take whatever action you deem necessary, and by God we’ll try and end this little rebellion as quickly as possible.”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Archduke of Austria
The Hofburg, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Sunday 16th August 2020, 2000hrs Local Time

---

It had been another long day for Austria.

After overnight air campaign had wound down shortly before dawn the first Austrian ground troops marched into Austria; the 1st Panzergrenadier Division rumbled down the main highways into Istria. Ironically, it had been the Margrave of Istria, in his youth, who had reinforced the highways to be able to handle the increased weight of modern armour to enable Austrian tanks to quickly and smoothly maneuverer southwards in the event of a Yugoslav invasion. Now, it was those same reinforced highways that enabled the Austrian division to slice into Istria and to easily outmanoeuvre the militia forces as they struggled to respond to the rapid advance. The Istrian militia soon found themselves cut-off from each other and surrounded by Austrian soldiers; but rather than attacking them they simply slowly tightened their perimeter around each militia unit they had isolated. The message had been clear; they could either surrender or they could be destroyed by superior firepower (with the unspoken message of the night’s air campaign being that their opponents could easily just drop a bomb on them, rather than risking a ground attack).

Although there were a few circumstances of limited exchanges of fire, usually under the orders of particularly hard-line militia officers, the vast majority of militia units surrendered without a fight once the reality of their tactical situation became clear. Indeed, even in those militia units that did attempt to fight their way out of their envelopment such an attempt only lasted for a few minutes as ad hoc mutinies quickly removed the hardliner officers. In the space of the morning the Istrian Rebellion, such as it was, crumbled and was quickly swept over by the Austrian Military. Where there might have been a chance for at least some form of victory before the fighter sweep and the air campaign of the previous day there was now no chance and, broadly speaking, the Istrian militia recognized that even to the lowest militiaman and few were willing to sacrifice their lives in a hopeless defence of an attainted Margrave. Afterall, although raised and commanded by the Margrave, the Istrian militia had originally been established to defend against a Yugoslav invasion; they were the true enemy not fellow Austrians, for many saw themselves as Austrians when the cards were down.

Once it had become clear that the ground war was lost before it even truly began, the Margrave was attempted to flee from Split to parts unknown. Unfortunately for him, Austrian intelligence was able to uncover his plans and despite the fact that he timed his departure from Split almost perfectly the naval squadron blockading Split was able to quickly react and successfully chased him down. The Margrave was detained by the Austrian Navy who put him in the back of a helicopter and flew him back to, ironically, his own headquarters near Trieste where they handed him over to the National Police and was officially arrested by Chefinspektor Ezra Prosacco. Almost as soon as news of his arrest was reported by the news media, and confirmed by a photograph of Bahringer in Austrian custody, what little resistance continuing in the south of Istria almost immediately came to an end; not even the most hard-line Istrian unit would get themselves killed for a leader who was already in ‘enemy’ custody. Tensions were high in Istria, and would remain high for some weeks, but an uneasy peace settled over the region as the ‘Weekend War’ came to a decisive end.

Both George and Sophia had been immensely relieved that the conflict was over. Once all was said and done, the conflict had cost the lives of eighty-four Istrians with several hundred more injured (and receiving the best possible care by the Austrian), whilst the Austrians themselves had only suffered eight deaths aboard the frigate Geneva and only three dozen injuries across the board; a mercifully low casualty count all things considered. Moreover, the shortness and decisiveness of the conflict had been a great political coup for the Archduke and the Archduchess, as it underlined their ability and determination to preserve the integrity of the nation, and their position and power would not be challenged again, and would provide them political capital for some time to come. Moreover, it would bring much needed stability to the Archduchy as the geopolitical situation all around them was shifting in a number of different ways; with Yugoslavia remaining a ever present spectre. This was particularly important, as although the Archduchy was now linked by marriage to the Kingdom of Apilonia the exact nature of the political arrangement between the two was once again up in the air.

Although the original intention, and the one that had been approved by the plebiscite, was for Austria to be fully integrated into the Kingdom, and this would have been acceptable to a solid majority within the Archduchy. However, one of the Presidential Candidates in South Africa, a former Apilonian territory, Jonathan Mulder, who was running on a platform of a closer relationship with Apilonia had developed a potential new framework that was very appealing and one that would allow Austria to retain a great deal of independence whilst getting all the benefits of a closer relationship with Apilonia. There remained a great deal of detail to be worked out, and Sophia and George had dispatched a representative to Seattle to meet with Mulder’s representative and the Apilonian Foreign Secretary to hammer out the details, but it was a very interesting proposal to say the least and one that was worth exploring; the fact that it would pacify much of the opposition to a full integration into Apilonia was an additional benefit of course. Of course, the entire proposal depended on Mulder winning the election in South Africa, which despite polling was in doubt due to the incumbent’s rhetoric, but it had nevertheless generated a great deal of excitement and interest amongst those in the know.

For the moment, however, there was still the matter of the disgraced Margrave to deal with.

George and Sophia were seated upon their thrones in the Hall of Festivals, pretty much the entire Austrian court was in attendance, as Raphael Bahringer was brought into the Hall in chains by the National Police. Under ancient law, in cases of treason the Archduke and Archduchess had the right to judge the accused themselves or they could refer it to the courts for a normal criminal prosecution; in most cases the latter option was chosen but all traitors were brought before them in the first instance to face potential judgement. Afterall, although Sophia could, technically, sentence him to death herself it was not the most democratic way to proceed, yet tradition had to be maintained and followed and that meant that the disgraced Margrave would be brought before her before he was even formerly charged by the National Police. As he was brought towards the two thrones in the almost completely silent Hall, Bahringer looked tired, weary and defeated; any suspicion that there might be some form of demonstration was quickly squashed.

“Raphael Bahringer, you stand accused of high treason,” Sophia said, quietly but easily heard in the dead silence of the Hall. “How do you plead?”

“May it please, Your Grace,” Bahringer said quietly. “I plead not guilty.”

“Well, I look forward to hearing your defence,” Sophia replied, her voice dripping with scorn. “You are remanded to the custody of the National Police pending trial, I relinquish my right of judgement to the courts… take him away.”

The Hall remained silent as Bahringer was removed; it was such an unusual circumstance that it had not been seen in the living memory of anyone present and as such it was treated with the reverential silence that such an ancient tradition demanded. It was only once Bahringer was out of the Hall that everyone relaxed and there was a collective sigh of relief; it had been a difficult and challenging time for everyone regardless of their political leaning. Ultimately, however, love for Austria had won out over personal ambition; a desire for unity over ideological considerations, and a willingness to work through whatever challenges there were together rather than crumbling as a result. It was not for naught that it had been a desire to avoid fighting fellow Austrians that had eventually led to the surrender of the Istrian militia.

After a few moments, and with an encouraging look from George, Sophia stood and a silence fell over the hall once more. She still did not enjoy public speaking, but over the years she had become accustomed to it and developed a talent for it.

“My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen, members of my court and visitors from distant lands; the events that we have witnessed today bring to an end a low point of our national story; one of division and ideology that forgets our core commitment to Austria and her people,” Sophia began firmly. “The one thing that most of us can come together on is that we want what is best for Austria, we may disagree what that may be, but we can at least trust each other’s motivations; that trust is particularly telling in situations like this where one of our number so fundamentally does not hold to that and is promptly abandoned to his fate.”

Sophia paused for a moment, glancing around the hall.

“The one thing that we cannot tolerate is those who would sell their own people to on the alter of their own personal ambition; we may enjoy rank, title, and privilege, but this is not the age in which we of high birth may trade the lives of our subordinates for personal gain,” Sophia continued passionately. “Noblesse oblige… nobility obliges; that is the code by which we must conduct ourselves, if we fail to do our duty we no longer deserve the privileges to which we are born and to the positions with which we are entrusted… and history has shown us the consequences of when the nobility is no longer required by the people.”

Sophia paused again, to allow her words to hit home.

“As we begin to forge our new future under my reign, as a nation we face many questions and challenges that we must face together; as we form a new, closer, political union with our dear friends in the Kingdom of Apilonia, as we face the varying threats and challenges closer to home, we must do so together, as one nation,” Sophia said firmly. “I do not pretend any of those will be easy, or simple, no change ever is, but we can no longer afford to accept the stagnation in which we have been stuck for some years now, lest we be left behind by the flow of change that is taking place all around us, and we cannot do it alone, and we are fortunate that we will not need to.”

Sophia paused again, before smiling.

“And yet, this is not a time for sadness but for optimism; we have removed a great threat to our national stability and we have done so with a mercifully small loss of life, on both sides, and we have avoided the scourge of civil conflict and can rebuild stronger, together,” Sophia began her closing statement. “So, remember this day, everything it means and everything it reminds us of, but do not get caught in the past as we must think towards our future, one that we can rightfully look upon with optimism and excitement… thank you, and god bless!”

Sophia stepped back to thunderous applause and with a nod to George, who stood up and came to her side, the pair left the Hall of Festivals as the applause continued. Once they were safely out of sight of the gathered court Sophia sagged against the wall with a relieved expression. George stepped close to her, a little concerned but primarily her from the sight of the footmen and other servants that were nearby, not that they would think any of less of her for it but he knew how she valued what privacy she could maintain. She glanced up at him with a small, wry smile as she held up her hands to him, both trembling.

“I’ll never get used to that,” Sophia said softly.

“It’s almost a shame you don’t like it so much, because you are so good at it,” George commented with a grin as he leant down and kissed her gently, completely ignoring the nearby servants and causing her to blush as a result. “Your passion and sincerity do you great credit.”

“Flatterer,” Sophia smirked as she kissed him back, then pulled back a little and looked up at him. “I’m so glad I met you, George.”

“Me too,” George replied, kissing her again before taking her arm-in-arm as they began to walk. “Now am I sure I can’t persuade you to come to Seattle with me?”

Sophia laughed.

“You’re going there to take the lead for Austria on the discussions for the Mulder Initiative, mainly because you’ll not raise eyebrows,” Sophia shook her head wryly. “As much as I love Apilonia, and I like to think it loves me, that is part of the problem, it would be a circus.”

“Oh, very well,” George relented, albeit with a smile. “You must come with me at some point though, my love, it’ll be our first time back since the wedding.”

“I’ll make sure of it,” Sophia said firmly. “It will be good to see Seattle again.”

“Oh no, we won’t get off that easily, between our people and the Evergreen Palace they’ll have us all over the bloody Kingdom I’m sure,” George grinned, sliding his hand down to her lower back . “It’ll be an absolute pain in the backside, but as you say… nobility obliges!”

“Why do I get the feeling that you’re going to trot that one out a lot,” Sophia laughed. “Alright then, let’s turn in early and see if I can’t… oblige you…”

[The Kingdom of Apilonia]

His Royal Highness The Archduke of Austria
The Hofburg, Vienna
The Archduchy of Austria
Friday 21st August 2020, 1700hrs Local Time

---

The Hofburg was resplendent in the summer sunshine as George’s motorcade swept through Heldenplatz as he returned after a week back home in Apilonia. Already, after a relatively short time of actually living in the Austrian Imperial Palace, he was truly starting to think of it as home; as the old saying went, home is where the heart is, and his heart was firmly with Sophia. Although he had not felt like an outsider in Apilonia, greeted as a member of the Apilonain Royal Family as much as he was a representative of the Austrian state, yet neither the Evergreen Palace nor any of the other Royal residences had felt quite as they had when he had been younger. That wasn’t to say that he hadn’t felt ‘at home’ back in the Evergreen Palace, especially getting to see his family again after being in Austria for some months, but it was no longer his home and that had really hit home when he had been sat on a different side of the negotiating table to the Apilonian Government, instead sitting alongside the Austrian delegation and representing their interest first and foremost in this case; he was the Archduke of Austria, after all.

Of course, just how much the Austrian people had made him feel welcome and at home in their country had certainly helped matters. It was unusual for a foreign consort to gain such a personal approval rating as quickly as he had, but his love and concern for Sophia was obvious in their public interactions, even if it was suitably understated and dignified, and that went a great way towards winning the hearts of the Austrian people. It probably helped that he had gone to great lengths to become as fluent as possible in German, the majority language, as well as French to a lesser extent, as it allowed him to engage the people he met in the course of his official duties in true conversation in their own language. Whilst it was true that many within Austria, particularly the upper and middle classes more likely to travel abroad on business or pleasure, learned English, his taking the effort was recognized and appreciated by many, and certainly allowed him to connect with the commoners far more easily than would otherwise be the case and that contributed to his approval rating significantly.

“Welcome home, Your Royal Highness.”

“Thank You, Andreas,” George replied to the Chief Footman with a smile as he stepped out of the vehicle. “Where is she?”

“In the family library, Sir.”

George nodded his thanks and made his way into the building. If he had been comfortable in his ability to navigate through the building when his relationship with Sophia had begun he now knew the vast expanse of corridors like the back of his hand, and walked through them confidently yet smiling a polite greeting to any of the small army of servants that he came across. All in all it did not take him long to reach the family library where he found Sophia, much as he had three years earlier, sat in a bay window looking out over the city, a book in her hands and a wistful expression her face. Unlike that time she was not sobbing but looked happy and content and lost in her own thoughts, a sight that never failed to make George smile, for she was very much a daydreamer when she was left to her own devices.

“Sophia,” George said softly.

Sophia turned to look at him and smiled broadly almost immediately.

“George,” Sophia smiled as she laid down her book and stood up, stepping over to him quickly and kissing him. “Welcome home.”

“Its good to be home,” George replied. “You’ve been busy I see.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been in meetings all day, thank you very much,” Sophia smirked, slapping him playfully on the arm as she stepped back from him and assessed him carefully. “You look tired, my love, was it a long week?”

“Yes, but only because we kept working and working each day until we could not work anymore, and that wasn’t because there was all that many sticking points but because there’s a great deal of work to be done and we want to make a great deal of progress,” George replied, settling onto a sofa with Sophia joining him. “It was such a wonderful atmosphere; there was a lot that we all agree on of course, given that we all share a European background, not to mention the cultural links between Apilonia and her former colonies, so there was a shared desire to work this through.”

“So, what do you think of the Mulder Plan?” Sophia asked as she snuggled up against him.

“I really like it; if there is one thing that has become clear over our lifetime, as short a period as that mercifully is, that not only is it desirable for like-minded folk to come together for mutual prosperity; and yet there is also a desire for a sustained national identity,” George replied thoughtfully. “Historically, the sheer amount of distance between the mother country and the colonies meant that there needed to be a strong Imperial presence, however technological advances mean that communication is now effectively immediate, which gives us options.”

“Ironically, quite varying options as well, I believe,” Sophia commented wryly. “It either makes it easier to directly integrate colonies, as Layarteb has done, or to have a supranational body, like the Shenzhen Pact.”

“Exactly, and that is precisely what the Mulder Plan is trying to facilitate; there is a great deal of benefit for co-operation between Apilonia and both former colonies and close friends such as Austria, however the simple colonial framework of the past is no longer appropriate,” George agreed. “Once we recognize that, there are a wide range of possibilities for the form that such a closer co-operation and relationship could take; some would be happy to be fully integrated into the Kingdom, as the more powerful partner, whilst others would prefer a more independent partnership, which is the question facing Austria in particular.”

“Because we originally intended to join the Kingdom and become an integral part of it, and something that our people agreed to,” Sophia nodded her understanding. “And yet, now we are faced with the very real possibility of getting almost all the advantages whilst remaining our own sovereignty.”

“Something that the people may prefer, now that it is in an option, which is why we’ve delayed our integration into the Kingdom,” George agreed. “How much progress did you make on getting a consensus on how to proceed from the Lords and the House of Deputies?”

“The general consensus amongst the Lords is that we should absolutely prefer the Mulder Plan over the integration, which is perhaps hardly surprising given that they were always somewhat reluctant to accept losing our sovereignty, even with a great deal of autonomy,” Sophia replied. “Broadly speaking, the Deputies are of the opinion that if the people were happy to accept becoming fully integrated into the Kingdom it is likely that they would be happy with retaining our independence and accepting the close relationship provided by the Mulder Plan.”

“So, Austria would be largely supportive of the Mulder Plan?”

“Absolutely; to me it seems to be the perfect compromise between the traditionalists and the progressives, whilst getting us all the advantages of a close relationship with Apilonia, and now the other potential adherents of the Mulder Plan,” Sophia nodded her agreement, before looking up at him with a smile. “It also helps solve the constitutional implications of our marriage; as under the Mulder Plan we can swear allegiance to the Apilonian Crown without losing our own sovereignty, or our voice in the wider body.”

“Absolutely,” George smiled. “Which is what I said to the other delegations.”

Sophia smiled broadly.

“You already know us so well.”

“I’ve made a concerted effort,” George laughed. “And you’re well in touch with your people, and a good teacher.”

“I do try,” Sophia smirked. “So, how do we anticipate this going forwards?”

“Well, nothing will be announced until we know whether or not Mulder is going to win the Presidential Election in South Africa; there’s no point announcing this scheme without the Union being in the picture, so we’ve got a month or so to continue developing the framework,” George replied. “As it stands, all the public knows is that Jonathan Mulder has an idea for a new framework for his countries relationship with the Kingdom, and that Austria is interested in a similar arrangement… it’s not yet publicly known exactly what this will all look like, so we keep working and wait and see what happens in South Africa.”

“Makes sense, although I would still want to push some aspects of the Mulder Plan forward if he loses, I like the compromise,” Sophia smiled. “With this in mind, I was looking at the polls for South Africa this morning, and it looks like Mulder is going to win in any case.”

“Indeed, although the Royal Intelligence Service is getting increasingly concerned that Mashinini is going to cause some issues, if he loses,” George said with a sigh. “The Mulder Campaign, and most of our contacts inside the Union, are equally concerned, but hopeful that the institutional integrity of the Union will win out,”

“We can only hope, I would hate to lose this brave new world we’re building because of an old-school strong-man from the last century,” Sophia scowled. “Is there anything that Austria can do to support the Union, and Apilonia in this matter?”

“I spoke with my father and grandfather on just that question, and the answer is nothing at the moment, as the entire affair is delicate,” George shook his head. “If Mulder wins, as expected, we’ll want to diplomatically recognize him, but we’ll want to stay out of the matter.”

“We’ve got enough issues here,” Sophia replied honestly. “Yugoslavia is still worked up over the Weekend War, and we’ve started to get feelers from the Hungarian People’s Council.”

“Regarding?” George frowned.

“Regarding the possibility for their defection from the People’s Republic and a reunification with Austria,” Sophia replied, smiling at George’s surprised expression. “Hungary has always had a distant relationship with the People’s Republic, has longstanding ties with us, and likely sees the writing on the wall.”

“That’s a very interesting development,” George commented wryly. “And will only serve to wind up the Peeps even more.”

“Exactly, especially given there remains a significant number of Hungarian nobles in the Archduchy that would love to reclaim their lands,” Sophia nodded. “You know as well as I do, that since the advent of social media that many commoners in the People’s Republic are increasingly aware that that the standard of living under their basic living stipend is below that of the Archduchy, even for the poor.”

“And that’s without considering the fact that increasing government crackdowns are doubtless causing a lot of dissatisfaction,” George replied thoughtfully. “If the reports of increased tensions along ethnic lines, the prospect of their own lands, even under our overall overlordship would be more attractive than being forced together under the banner of the ‘People’s struggle’.”

“That’s the working theory,” Sophia agreed. “And appears to be borne out in Hungary… it’s early days, but its looking promising… for us anyway.”

George nodded thoughtfully for a moment before laughing.

“Yes, I think it is best we keep out of the South African election, as you say we’re going to have plenty on our plates to deal with here,” George shook his head with another chuckle. “The last thing we need is to be distracted from one delicate situation by another…”

“Just so,” Sophia smiled, glancing down at her watch and looking back up with a smirk. “Do you think it’ll be too obvious what we’re up to if we’re in our chambers at this hour?”

“Perhaps,” George chuckled. “Do you mind though?”

“Not at all,” Sophia replied demurely. “Come along husband, I want to welcome you home properly.”