#Royal Sims

[havenroyals]

@onestormeynight: "I am so ready for Ems villain era"

See You in The Storm on January 5th

Tagging: @citylighten  @nectar-cellar  @lynzishell  @authorspirit @riverofjazzsims

@mydramasims @death-by-glitter @stargazer-sims @spnmoosejerk @empiredesimparte 

@simplywhytney @matchalovertrait  @blueyjoy @smok3inm1rrors

@sweetsummersim  @simsbyjo  @thagoddessdemi @invisiblequeen

[theroyalthrones]

Whatcha call that? Head over heels?

original pic

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟏𝟒   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   VARIOUS LOCATIONS, OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

Morningstar Cafe was, by day, a drab second-floor shop that offended passersby with its single item menu. You could have a sour corn beverage, potentially with sugar if the woman behind the counter felt like offering it. Most days, she didn’t. ‘Drink what we give you,’ a sign by the register threatened. That warning became a galvanizing motto after dark—once the place transformed into a lively, hip spot flooded with whichever socialites happened to be town that night. A gruff woman with a magazine under her nose manned the door. Her job was ensuring only those with reservations or a spot on the list made it inside. The first time he’d gone, Renzo earned a hard shove in the chest from this woman, who demanded he take off his cap and sunglasses before she consented to allowing him inside. He wasn’t going to get belligerent with her. He’d promised Karolina that he would be on his best behavior—no liquor or uppers before, smile for the cameras, no fighting. ‘What, you think I’m impersonating myself? Really?’ It was hard to imagine, but the door lady had shrugged, ‘You’d be surprised. Lot of desperate pretty boys in town.’

❧ back back back at it again (posting ass, leonor’s) this is one of my sleeper favorites !!!! it looks cool to me, and i have the best time writing renzo pov, i have discovered.

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Morningstar Cafe was, by day, a drab second-floor shop that offended passersby with its single item menu. You could have a sour corn beverage, potentially with sugar if the woman behind the counter felt like offering it. Most days, she didn’t. ‘Drink what we give you,’  a sign by the register threatened. That warning became a galvanizing motto after dark—once the place transformed into a lively, hip spot flooded with whichever socialites happened to be Canaris that night. A gruff woman with a magazine under her nose manned the door. Her job was ensuring only those with reservations or a spot on the list made it inside. The first time he’d gone, Renzo earned a hard shove in the chest from this woman, who demanded he take off his cap and sunglasses before she consented to allowing him inside. He wasn’t going to get belligerent with her. He’d promised Karolina that he would be on his best behavior—no liquor or uppers before, smile for the cameras, no fighting. ‘What, you think I’m impersonating myself? Really?’ It was hard to imagine, but the door lady had shrugged, ‘You’d be surprised. Lot of desperate pretty boys in town.’ 

They were on friendlier terms now, and he didn’t need a familiar-faced escort to waltz inside. It was just an enjoyable dining spot beneath the veneer of fame that made it a known place. The grilled fish and delicate desserts weren’t worth a trip down south all by themselves, but they were a welcome consolation prize when work necessitated going to the seaside. Friends from Nakawe were there this week, vacationing or working themselves; meeting at the Morningstar was a no-brainer. They could have sat in the back until morning while the glasses piled up on the table, and they would have if not for an unexpected interruption. Renzo anticipated the waitress who wandered over unprompted would stop by someone else’s shoulder and was caught off-guard when she bent over at his instead. She murmured her message, direct and discreet, and then gestured toward the constantly swinging door the led into the bustling kitchen. 

Without an explanation to anyone staring with expectant eyes, he went to take the call that had come through the manager’s telephone and requested him by name. It was a surprise to hear Leonor’s voice on the other end of the line but perhaps less surprising that she sounded close to tears as she hurried to explain herself. The words jumbled together. He listened hard to make out what she was saying. In the end, the details didn’t matter. She paused at length to take a deep, unsteady, therapeutic inhale, then blurted out: ‘Can I see you tonight? I need you. Please.’ 

She was also supposed to be away, which she’d informed him in a telephone call before she ran off to the airport. Instead of her trip, they talked for a few minutes about the gift he sent her. She promised to watch it when she got home. He suggested they watch it together. She made a joke about needing to stay home for a while anyway. He agreed with her. Had she seen the note? She had. And she forgave him for it? She did. Quiet, the kind that meant they were both smiling and making heart eyes at thin air. That was it. Yet, an obvious question had ballooned in front of him as soon as she mentioned she was invited to spend a couple days with her family—that her father had arranged it and insisted she join, no strings attached. It was distracting, that balloon, but he’d refused to pop it. They both knew “family time” would end poorly somehow, although he could admit after this phone call that he hadn’t anticipated such a spectacular disaster. 

She was crying outright by the time she ended the call. It concluded hastily, mid-sob. Maybe she rushed off to gather her things, too relieved to say goodbye. She was taking the jet. The royals, almost to a person, flew private whenever they had to—and when they didn’t. Easy, she could summon a flight and be back in Nakawe in a couple hours’ time. He was going home by train, meanwhile, and it would take more time than that. She explained it to him once with the smuggest look on her face. ‘Our pilots are on call,’ she’d said. He remembered that she was eating some kind of fruit while she talked; she tossed them into her mouth like candy, which was fine because she figured they were mostly water and therefore mostly calorie-free. ‘They’re ready anytime I want. They come when I tell them to.’ To this, he had replied, ‘Oh, yeah? Me too.’ 

Most likely, she ended the call in a hurry because she was embarrassed to be resuming what she’d been doing before she got desperate enough to pick up the phone. 

Leonor didn’t cry a lot, not really. That was a small blessing because Renzo never fully knew what to do when it happened. What he had gathered over the years was that women wanted to be consoled if they bothered to cry in front of you. It was gravely important to say nothing that mattered and wear a shirt that could handle wet mascara, running eyeliner, possibly snot that you absolutely could not comment on.  If you weren’t wearing a shirt, they went for the neck. If you joked about the snot, the situation went nuclear. When men cried, it was the same deal, minus the requirement that you play daddy and give them hugs and kisses. The nuclear option was mutual destruction. ‘Crying’s for pussies.’ ‘Are you calling me—’ ‘Well, ain’t you?’ Blows ensue. Everyone feels better—superficially, at least, which was what mattered. For her part, Leonor cried when there were no words to say, for better or worse, or, crucially, when she wasn’t ready to have them coaxed out of her. 

He hadn’t intended to be drafted into service as a makeshift counselor, but it just worked out that way, and he had never been one to reject what simply fell into place. By the time the waitress appeared in the office doorway to check on him—or whatever her purpose was, maybe just to eavesdrop—he had run the usual course of reactions. Slinging a grieving princess over his shoulder and carrying her out of her darkest hours wasn’t easy work. It required clarity and consideration that he didn’t often like to possess. It would have been much easier to respond with, ‘Hey, can you shut the fuck up, I’m try to live a bullshit-free life over here.’ That was the problem with caring. 

Yet, his theory was that he had taken to acting so well because he had never actually stopped being a introspective, sensitive little boy who moved like grass in the wind with whatever weather he was caught in. He got used to storms early on. Clear skies were welcome, but they left him feeling restless and parched. The storm went inward. The wind was always blowing, harsh, howling, in there. Other people saw that and called it different things, somewhere between “troubled” and “passionate,” adjacent to “intense,” in the neighborhood of “desirable” and “steer clear.” Whatever it was, Leonor had met him and looked, without knowing, directly at it. 

‘Bring her around,’ he had told Kore. It wasn’t his business, that she was friends with someone whose mother had just died and who was so unbearably sad about it that she might just fade away all together and who really just needed a pick-me-up, something to make her smile, but without all of the pressure, you know, that comes with being out and about when you’re someone like that, since you can’t just get drunk and go crazy for a night without scrutiny, or rumors, or—! No, that was not his business. However, the conversation had been unending, and everyone squeezed into the Den’s best corner seating wanted to gossip about her. Interjecting with an obvious solution ended it. Or, it prompted them to start reminiscing about their fun times, and it gave him an opening to get up and wander away. Having made it his business, he had to put more thought into it later. He didn’t read the news, certainly not the kind that would be most informative, but he didn’t have to look far to find smiling pictures of then-twenty year old Leonor with her long, straight hair and round cheeks. She always wore red. She looked like her mother, who was indeed very dead. 

The concept of royalty was still perplexing and off-putting, like being somewhere people insisted ghosts and fairies were real, which was also true of Uspana. Still, whatever it meant, she looked like a princess. She looked even more that way up close, and she acted like it, too. He couldn’t resist indulging in a bit of mockery. Surprisingly, she was game enough to allow it—that and the observations he made, that she screamed misplaced and full of despair. It couldn’t have been flattering. ‘You know all about that, huh,’ he joked when she suggested the place sounded pretentious. It wasn’t a joke, but it sunk in that she wasn’t quite what he expected. Although unnameable in the moment, she had been honest in an earnest way. There was a conversation she wanted to have, one they hardly began that night; he recognized belatedly that she chose to have it with him. Only, it couldn’t have had much to do with him specifically. He asked her in time why she’d been so open. Her response struck him the same way: ‘I don’t know. I was drinking for the first time in a while? You wouldn’t let me break eye contact? Approval-seeking?’ She had looked at her hands, then added, ‘You know I’m a believer. So, because I was meant to be that way with you, then and there. That’s why.’  

Renzo wasn’t a believer, not the way she was. Still, he couldn’t deny that there was truth in her observation. That’s what she’d been, attractive and intriguing and truthful, in that order. When Pat had fished an admission out of him on a rooftop in California just a couple months ago, that was more truth. Leonor was precious. He did like to be around her, to listen to her, to receive her affection. She was affectionate, which was a relief because that’s what his introspective, sensitive, small self needed. And, anyway, listening to her problems and dispensing advice wasn’t how they spent all of their time. 

Leonor was curious in a ravenous way. She wanted to learn everything under the sun, and she was usually too arrogant to go about it without pure, uncut enthusiasm and confidence. Allowing herself to be taught was a favor, a sign of affection unto itself. That became apparent to him quickly. She looked down her nose at store clerks with tentative suggestions, but she peppered him with questions and savored the answers like fine, melt-in-your-mouth morsels. It was hard to not be flattered. When it was time to listen and dispense advice, he found opportunities to pluck bitter fruit of experience from his own life and make it into something sweet, even nourishing, for her. That was rare. Now it was plentiful. He spent a lot of time trying to live outside of himself, yet clarity and consideration weren’t such hard asks when she was doing the asking. Typical of people accustomed to taking, she seemed never afraid to ask for anything.

All of this was a problem that became worse by the day. The consequences were piling up. It wouldn’t be possible to outrun them eventually, and that moment would come without warning. Everything stacked comes crashing down. Life had very few certainties, but the hard hammer of reality falling was one of them. Renzo knew that. He also knew that he had other problems—namely, that he was, like any consummate addict, hard-pressed to stop good feelings no matter how obvious and unavoidable the terrible consequences would be. Setting aside questions of willingness, it was irresponsible and selfish to pull Leonor into this kind of morass. Of course, he counted those tendencies among his problems, too. 

TRANSCRIPT:

[Muffled blaring music, Leonor humming]

Tonight? Aren’t you in Intizara?

My bad. I forgot about the jet. I get you. [Renzo sighs]

Hey, hey, hey. Come on. Calm down. I get you. Just … You have my address, right, so how’s that? You can go there, and I’ll see you when I get in. Late, right. What? No, it’s fine. I don’t mind. Someone’ll let you inside. Just go around the back. Sure. Alright. I’ll see you then.

Hey, Nora, it’s okay. Okay? Take a breath. See you soon.

JIM | How do we feel about nude?

LEONOR | You mean—? JIM | You, Leonor. I think it’d look nice, especially since Renzo’s wearing all black, and the backdrops we have are neutral, too. LEONOR | I’m not sure if I’d be comfortable with that …

JIM | Really? You seem—I mean, you know, you seem like you’d be. LEONOR | This is different. I’m … I don’t … RENZO | You can say no, Nora. If you don’t want to do it.

LEONOR | [sighs] No, I actually do, but I feel like I … RENZO | What? LEONOR | You know … [Camera clicks]

RENZO | Jim, please, will you elaborate? Tell her what you see. I have, plenty. No luck yet. Brainwashing’s a fucking nightmare. LEONOR | No, please, it’s— RENZO | Just listen, Nora.

JIM | Ah. It’s endemic. I see it all the time. A gorgeous woman gets in front of a camera, she’s standing in front of a mirror. Only, it’s worse, right, because you can’t actually see yourself. It’s what you imagine —gosh, and you know how mean cameras can be, right? Almost as mean as those damn tabloids. Almost. But, what do I know? I’m just a guy, but I am making art, okay? That’s what I’m seeing with this thing.

JIM | I have been told my camera is very slimming, for what it’s worth. [Leonor scoffs]

LEONOR | [laughs] Fine, okay. It’s just for fun. For us. What do you think, artistic nudity and all, convincing—?

LEONOR | We could do this ourselves, but—oh, when’s your birthday, Jim? Anytime soon? Let’s call it a gift.

[Movie plays quietly on television]

Hi. I hit play.

That’s okay. How is it? Funny. Odd. Exactly what I needed. “I myself am strange and unusual” … I’m gonna go change. Just take your jeans off.

I’m listening. I don’t want to dwell on it.

Alright, but you will, regardless—on the inside. I don’t want that for you. And I know why you came here. Let me help.

It feels silly to be so torn up about things. I don’t know what I’d do with a bunch of dusty old jackets and her least favorite paintings, but those were hers. They smell like her. Have her fingerprints. Meant something to her. They’re all I have left.

You can track them down. Put that princess pull to work. [laughs] Right, of course, serves me so well, all of my power …

What means something to you? Of hers. Yeah, you said you didn’t take anything from the house, but you will someday. I don’t know. I want all of it. Or, none of it. I want her, and I don’t … What does that even mean now? What will make it better, curling up with her bones? I don’t know.

It’s fucked up. You can’t predict what’ll become a signifier—a symbol of your love enduring or whatever. I keep that stupid cube over there because, uh, a buddy was trying to solve it … [sniffs] He was trying to solve it that day, the day he died. I remember that. I was so fucking annoyed. “Give it a rest. Grow the fuck up.” Shit. I can’t solve it either.

Can’t even try without crying like a baby. A damn shame. It’s sweet. Bittersweet, I guess.

There was a glass of water on her desk with a lipstick stain … It felt so important that day. [chuckles] He wouldn’t sell that. Yeah, well, plenty of freaks out there who’d pay good money for it. Better make sure it’s still there when you go back.

Do you want to come with me? See my childhood bedroom? Didn’t you just move out last year? Yeah, and I didn’t take any of my stuffed animals with me. Introduce me to them? Do they have names? Of course. Personalities, titles—Goddamn, even the toys! It is cute. It is.

[empiredesimparte]

Live broadcast of ‘Le Sacre de Napoléon V’ on the national channel Francesim 2, hosted by Stéphane Bernard

(Another journalist) We see the imperial couple's carriage leaving the Palais des Tuileries, the ceremony is starting! (Stéphane Bernard) Yes, my dear, here we are. This is a historic day for all of Francesim!

(Stéphane Bernard) Look at these images of the majestic Notre-Dame Cathedral, where the heads of state are taking their places. They are the first to enter, as per His Imperial Majesty's wish. Of course, this is excluding the journalists and cameras. We live in the era of communication. (Another journalist) It's also the first time under the French Empire that the coronation is taking place in the presence of foreign leaders. (Stéphane Bernard) Yes, if you like, it's a completely different atmosphere compared to the coronation of Napoleon IV in 2001, or year 209.

(Stéphane Bernard) His approach was more traditional. It was necessary to win back the French people. Thus, all the guests – around ten thousand – were French. It was also necessary to "introduce" oneself, which is why the emperor focused all the images on his person, the new aristocracy, and the imperial splendor.

(Stéphane Bernard) Today, in 2022, 21 years later, Emperor Napoleon V enjoys a popularity that nearly reaches 80%! You understand, the issues are completely different now. Napoleon V's coronation is a soft power operation. It's subtler than with Napoleon IV: by using symbols of the monarchy like the orb representing universalism, the splendor, and traditions, he strengthens the image and cultural influence of Francesim worldwide. This grand event showcases the stability and grandeur of the nation while cultivating a sense of national pride.

(Another journalist) Is it also a way for a young emperor like Napoleon V to assert his legitimacy in front of other crowned heads? (Stéphane Bernard) No, I don't think so. Allow me to say that this would be a very mistaken interpretation of the ceremony. The Emperor of the French derives his legitimacy solely from the French people. The other heads of state, or God, have absolutely no role to play in this process. It is a solemn moment where the sacred bond between the sovereign and his people is celebrated and renewed, without external interference. That is why the heads of state and ambassadors are not filmed during or after the ceremony.

(Other journalist) Wait, Stéphane, let me stop you right there. Le sacre is a religious ceremony. What do you mean? (Stéphane Bernard) I will delve into this more during the ceremony, but it is crucial to distinguish the different moments of the coronation. Religion, while important, constitutes only a part of it: the anointing. Note that there are few sacral monarchies in Europesim today. The Empire of Pierreland is one of the rare countries that have preserved this grand religious tradition. In Francesim, Emperor Napoleon IV chose to reinstate the coronation for reasons other than legitimacy. Emperor Napoleon III, for example, was never crowned! (Another journalist) The imperial procession is now on the Champs-Elysées. Oh, look, Stéphane, the first images of Their Majesties!

(Stéphane Bernard) Admire Their Majesties in their Petit Habit de Sacre, an outfit elegantly inspired by the coronation of Napoleon I. This traditional French attire, reserved for the most solemn occasions, is today enhanced by a touch of originality unique to Napoleon V: he proudly wears the famous bicorne of his illustrious ancestor, Napoleon I. (Another journalist) I must say, it's quite something to see a Simparte wearing that famous hat! (Stéphane Bernard) For the most fervent Simpartists, it is truly a relic.

(Stéphane Bernard) Empress Charlotte, on the other hand, is adorned with the prestigious ruby set of Marie-Louise of Austria, created by the renowned court jeweler, François Regnault Nitot. She is also wearing the famous diamond necklace of Queen Marie-Antoinette. A curious choice, considering the tumultuous history associated with this piece, but it remains spectacular nonetheless. If my memory serves me right, this necklace is composed of 650 diamonds. (Another journalist) Yes, about 2800 carats in total. Their Majesties appear to be in exceptional form. Our colleagues at the Palais des Tuileries this morning reported that the emperor was particularly cheerful.

(Stéphane Bernard) Yes, a lot of emotions will affect him today. Right now, before our eyes, he is still a secular figure like all of us. But when he takes his oath to the French People shortly, he will no longer be the same man. Numerous rites will transform this private individual into a mystical figure: the Emperor. This is what we will witness today, the transformation of our dear sovereign.

(Stéphane Bernard) The imperial procession is now in front of the Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile, this emblematic monument of Napoleonic heritage. Built under the orders of Napoleon I, magnified by Napoleon III and Baron Haussmann, this grand edifice embodies the glory and victories of the Empire. Let us not forget the famous promise of the Emperor to his soldiers: "You will only return to your homes under triumphal arches". (Other journalist) Indeed, this is a very symbolic step in the procession.

(Stéphane Bernard) Absolutely. The imperial procession recently passed the Palais Royal, which was once the seat of the Tribunat during the Empire. Today, this iconic place houses the Ministry of Culture as well as the Constitutional Council. Now, the procession is about to cross the Pont-Neuf to reach the cathedral through the grand west entrance. On this sacred day, the imperial couple is the only one granted the honor of entering through this majestic gate. The guests, on the other hand, enter the cathedral through the north facade.

⚜ Le Sacre de Napoléon V | N°7 | Francesim, Paris, 28 Thermidor An 230

The imperial cortege made its way to Notre-Dame cathedral in Paris, while the coronation guests took their seats. It was broadcast live on television by Stéphane Bernard, the famous journalist for the crowned heads in Francesim.

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Guests at the coronation

TIM, Emperor David I and Empress Katalina of Pierreland (@officalroyalsofpierreland)

HRH, Prince Oliver, Duke of Rothsey (@officalroyalsofpierreland)

HIM, Queen Viviana II of the Ionian Union (@funkyllama)

TM, King Arnaut and Queen Lorraine of Uspana (@nexility-sims)

HM, Queen Anastasia of Carrington and HRH, Prince Hisirdoux, the Duke of Clois (@royalhouseofcarrington)

TRH, Crown Prince George, Duke of Everton and Crown Princess Anne, Duchess of Everton (@crownsofesha)

HRH, Margaret, the Princess Royal of Corrilea (@theroyalsofcorrilea)

HM, Queen Diana and HRH, Prince Gerhard of SimDonia (@bridgeportbritt)

HRH, Madame Royale Eleanor de Thornolie (@theroyalthornoliachronicles)

TM, King Giovanni and Queen Consort Cassandre (@royalhouseofcardsleyts4)

TIM, The High King and High Queen of the Presean Empire (@stthomaspalace)

TM, King George I and Queen Elizabeth of Illyria (@the-lancasters)

TRH, the Duke and Duchess of Marseille and Saint-Lyon (@sosa-royals)

HM, Rosalind II, Queen of the Armoricans (@armoricaroyalty)

HM, King Arthur of the United Kingdom of Prydain and Voltadelmar (@prydainroyals)

TRH, The Prince and Princess of Belen (@housekonig)

HIH,  The Princess Imperial Eliana of Alexandria (@thealexandrianroyals)

TM, Queen Najwa and King Abeni of Oasis Springs (@hrh-the-royals)

TRH, Crown Princess Emeline and Crown Prince Cedric of Whitmore (@whitmoreroyals)

TM, King Oliver and Queen Charlotte of Cedoria and the Isle (@thebaillieroyals)

TM, King James II and Queen Alibhe of United Kingdoms of Great Briton and Ériu (@trhor)

Her Majesty Queen Irene and HRH Prince James (@albanyroyals)

⚜ Traduction française

(Autre journaliste) On voit le carrosse du couple impérial quitter le palais des Tuileries, la cérémonie commence ! (Stéphane Bernard) Oui mon cher, ça y est nous y sommes. C'est une journée historique pour la Francesim toute entière !

(Stéphane Bernard) Regardez ces images de la majestueuse cathédrale Notre-Dame, où les chefs d'État prennent place. Ce sont eux, les premiers à entrer, selon le souhait de Sa Majesté Impériale. Bien entendu, si l'on met de côté les journalistes et les caméras. Nous vivons à l'ère de la communication.

(Autre journaliste) C'est la première fois d'ailleurs sous l'empire français que le sacre s'effectue en présence de dirigeants étrangers. (Stéphane Bernard) Oui, si vous voulez, c'est une tout autre ambiance que le sacre de Napoléon IV en 2001, ou l'an 209.

(Stéphane Bernard) Son approche était plus traditionnelle et orientée vers un nationalisme assumé. Il fallait reconquérir les Français. Ainsi, tous les invités – environ dix mille �� étaient français. Il était également nécessaire de 'se présenter', c'est pourquoi l'empereur a focalisé toutes les images sur sa personne, la nouvelle aristocratie et le faste impérial.

(Stéphane Bernard) Aujourd'hui, en 2022 soit 21 ans plus tard, l'empereur Napoléon V bénéficie d'une popularité qui frôle les 80% ! Vous le comprenez bien, les problématiques ont radicalement changé. Le couronnement de Napoléon V est une opération de soft power. C'est plus subtil qu'avec Napoléon IV : en utilisant les symboles de la monarchie comme le globe qui représente l'universalisme, le faste et les traditions, il renforce l'image et l'influence culturelle de la Francesim à travers le monde. Cet événement grandiose permet de montrer la stabilité et la grandeur de la nation, tout en cultivant un sentiment de fierté nationale.

(Autre journaliste) Est-ce un moyen aussi pour un jeune empereur comme Napoléon V d'asseoir sa légitimité devant d'autres têtes couronnées ? (Stéphane Bernard) Non, je ne crois pas. Permettez-moi de vous dire que ce serait une interprétation très erronée de la cérémonie. L'empereur des Français tire sa légitimité uniquement du Peuple français. Les autres chefs d'État, comme Dieu, n'ont absolument aucun rôle à jouer dans ce processus. Il s'agit d'un moment solennel où le lien sacré entre le souverain et son peuple est célébré et renouvelé, sans ingérence extérieure. C'est pourquoi les chefs d'états et les ambassadeurs ne sont pas filmés durant ou après la cérémonie.

(Autre journaliste) Attendez, Stéphane, je vous arrête tout de suite. Le Sacre est une cérémonie religieuse. Qu'est-ce que vous voulez dire ? (Stéphane Bernard) Je reviendrai sur ce point plus en détail pendant la cérémonie, mais il est crucial de distinguer les différents moments du sacre. La religion, bien qu'importante, n'en constitue qu'une partie : celle de l'onction. Notez qu'il y a peu de monarchies sacrales en Europesim de nos jours. L'empire de Pierreland est l'un des rares pays à avoir conservé cette grande tradition religieuse. En Francesim, l'empereur Napoléon IV a choisi de rétablir le sacre pour d'autres raisons que la légitimité. Napoléon III, lui, n'a jamais été sacré par exemple ! (Autre journaliste) Le cortège impérial est maintenant sur les Champs-Elysées. Oh, regardez Stéphane, les premières images de Leurs Majestés !

(Stéphane Bernard) C'est un moment marquant de cette journée historique ! Admirez Leurs Majestés dans leur Petit Habit de Sacre, une tenue élégamment inspirée du couronnement de Napoléon Ier. Cette tenue traditionnelle française, réservée aux occasions les plus solennelles, est aujourd'hui sublimée par une touche d'originalité propre à Napoléon V : il arbore fièrement le célèbre bicorne de son illustre ancêtre, Napoléon Ier. (Autre journaliste) Je dois dire que ça fait quelque chose de voir un Simparte porter ce célèbre chapeau ! (Stéphane Bernard) Pour les Simpartistes les plus fervents, il s'agit d'une véritable relique.

(Stéphane Bernard) L'impératrice Charlotte, quant à elle, porte la prestigieuse parure de rubis de Marie-Louise d'Autriche, créé par le célèbre joaillier de la cour impériale, François Regnault Nitot. Elle porte aussi le fameux collier de diamants de la reine Marie-Antoinette. Un choix certes curieux, compte tenu de l'histoire tumultueuse associée à ce bijou, mais il n'en reste pas moins spectaculaire. Si ma mémoire ne me fait pas défaut, ce collier est composé de 650 diamants. (Autre journaliste) Oui, environ, pour 2800 carats. Leurs Majestés semblent dans une forme exceptionnelle. Nos collègues qui se trouvaient au palais des Tuileries ce matin racontent que l'empereur était particulièrement enjoué.

(Stéphane Bernard) Beaucoup d'émotions, oui, vont l'affecter aujourd'hui. Là sous nos yeux, il est encore un personnage profane comme nous tous. Mais lorsqu'il prononcera son serment au Peuple français tout à l'heure, il ne sera déjà plus le même homme. Si vous voulez, de nombreux rites vont transformer cette personne privée en figure mystique : l'empereur. C'est cela qu'on va vivre aujourd'hui, la transformation de notre cher souverain.

(Stéphane Bernard) Le cortège impérial se trouve maintenant devant l'Arc de Triomphe de l'Étoile, ce monument emblématique du patrimoine napoléonien. Construit sous les ordres de Napoléon Ier, magnifié par Napoléon III et le baron Haussmann, cet édifice grandiose incarne la gloire et les victoires de l'Empire. N'oublions pas la promesse célèbre de l'Empereur à ses soldats : « Vous ne rentrerez dans vos foyers que sous des arcs de triomphe ». (Autre journaliste) C'est en effet une étape très symbolique du cortège.

(Stéphane Bernard) Absolument. Le cortège impérial est passé il y a peu devant le Palais Royal, autrefois le siège du Tribunat sous l'Empire. Aujourd'hui, ce lieu emblématique abrite le ministère de la Culture ainsi que le Conseil constitutionnel. À présent, le cortège s'apprête à traverser le Pont-Neuf pour rejoindre la cathédrale par la grande porte ouest. En ce jour sacré, le couple impérial est le seul à avoir l'honneur d'entrer par cette majestueuse entrée. Les invités, quant à eux, accèdent à la cathédrale par la façade nord.

[bridgeportbritt]

Over the Phone | Selvadorada and SimDonia

Bria: Hi, Sweetheart. How'd it go?

Gianni sighs: It went well, I think. I just spoke the truth.

Bria: Well, that's good. That's all you can do, honey. I'm proud of you for even agreeing to do it.

Gianni: Thanks. If it wasn't for Grayson, I probably wouldn't have. Man's all about closure.

Bria: Yeah. He's right, though. Hopefully, this will help you move on from all the crap your dad caused.

Gianni: Yeah, I think it will. At least for most of us. Guy didn't show up to the funeral.

Bria: Really? Hmm. Well, I wouldn't worry too much about it. You all will deal with this in your own way.

Gianni: Yeah, you're right. I plan on inviting him back to the rental. Just to make sure he's alright.

Bria: That's a great idea, honey. He's lucky to have you as a brother.

Gianni: Well, I don't want to keep you. I'm sure you've got a busy day.

Bria: Yeah... certainly an interesting day. Alright, I'll talk to you later, honey. Tell everyone I said hi.

[trentonsimblr]

Her Royal Highness Princess Eleanor, Princess of Westburg

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

AN: Ello lovelies! I’ve finally set up my computer post move. I haven’t had a chance to to work on story posts but I did have fun trying out all of the cc that’s been released. Im hoping to get back to story screenshots this weekend which means we will be one step closer to story posts!

[crownsofesha]

Beginning /Next /Previous

[ruthplaysthesims]

Could this be a sign..??

Tasara Donovan, Crown Princess of Willow Creek, was spotted in the Imperial garden with Matthias Leone, the Crown Prince of Windenburg. There are rumors the two young Royals, despite being teenagers (16 and 17) are betrothed, and are set to marry after Tasara's coronation as Empress of Willow Creek. There has been no confirmation from either family, so this remains a rumor. They were also spotted holding hands. Could they be dating? We do not know..

The actual truth: No, they are not dating. They were just trolling the paparazzi 🤪🤪🤪

[rococo4thesims]

Featherington House

Sorry, this has taken so much longer than expected! While editing my screenshots, I couldn’t help but feel the whole build was lacking. 

After rewatching Season 2 of Bridgerton, I expanded this build to include the study as seen in both seasons. I didn’t realize how much green was used in their set design, and I tried hard to stay true to the set design for the interior. 

A huge thank you again to the fantastic and talented cc creators @themarblemortal @thejim07 @the-regal-sim @felixandresims @harrie-cc @strangestorytellersims @historicalsimslife @cliffou29 @anachrosims this build would not have been possible!

Click HERE to download the tray files and view the complete cc list used in this build.

Let me know what you think! Happy Simming!

[thebaillieroyals]

“Hey”

[theyurianas]

⏳ 𝑻𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝑨𝒔 𝑶𝒍𝒅 𝑨𝒔 𝑻𝒊𝒎𝒆 (𝟔/𝟔) 📜

🥀𝑨𝒅𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆 (𝑹𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒘𝒐𝒐𝒅) 𝒀𝒖𝒓𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒂, (𝟏𝟓𝟎𝟕-𝟏𝟓𝟑𝟕).

Adeline was beautiful, wise, and ambitious… she was a mix-blood, human, and fairy from her mother. She married Callisto and became the crown princess, they had twins, Prince Leone and Princess Lunette. They would be a perfect couple and perfect family already if she didn’t have another plan…

She was so proud of her fairy blood, in the era that fairies became a rare creature, she was afraid that it would be the end of her clan so she would do anything to protect it…but she just chose the wrong way.

Adeline who was magnificent in potions and magic, found some ancient black magic that changed her life forever. …after the twins died due to Mana’s conflict, The Empress was furious after knowing what happened to her precious grandchildren. Adeline got punished by being removed from the title of the crown princess and locked up in the tower for the rest of her life. All of her history records of her also got removed. That’s why all the history books in the present era have nothing written about her.

👼🏻 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒔, 𝑳𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑳𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆.

The grandchildren of Her Majesty the Empress, the children of the crown prince Callisto. They both were blessed by god and received the guardians as gift, The Orthros. Leone was not a talkative person but had a sense of humor, and enjoyed reading books, especially herbology and potions. He resembled his mother. Lunette was a cheerful person, caring about everything, especially her twin brother. She resembled her father and grandmother.

The twins couldn’t survive due to mana’s conflict, the royal blood was too strong even tho it was perfectly fine when it mixed with another mana but with the curse of using black magic, you have to pay the price.

⚜️ After Adeline was locked up at the tower, Prince Callisto felt sorry for everything and blamed himself for not being able to protect his children. He gave up his title of crown prince to his beloved sister, Victoria.

He became a judge at the Court of Justice. His mother, the empress granted the title of Grand Duke Partridge to him but he still had the title of the prince of yuriana. After 3 years of loss, Prince Callisto remarried to Lady Ludovika Pierce and had a child together and lived happily.

I’ve to say, I love Adeline’s character. She was not (that) bad..? But she was just chose the wrong way.

Plus, she is so classy and gorgeous!

[havenroyals]

Animation from 1sinfulkiss

Song: "Loving Me" by Janine

[theroyalthrones]

BEHIND THE SCENES | Grenoble, Montebeliard, Lavande

beginning | previous | next

As Aubrey sits in the opulent opera house, a wave of self-doubt washes over her. The elegant surroundings, once enchanting, now feel like a gilded cage, amplifying her discomfort and amplifying her insecurities. She can’t shake the feeling that her drastic style transformation has only drawn attention to her perceived inadequacies. Surrounded by the confident glances of others, she wonders if she’ll ever feel at home in this world. Each smile and nod from the crowd feels like a reminder of how far removed she is from their effortless charm, igniting a painful longing for acceptance that seems just out of reach.

transcript below↓↓

Aubrey and Laurie have made it to their seats at the opera house in Grenoble, Lavande. Aubrey is feeling light headed after all of the chaos that was the red carpet. With all of the added attention she is recieveing from the drastic change of her style. She feels uncomfortable in her skin. Not knowing how to navigate the world outside of her comfort zones.

‘how do they live like this’ she thinks.

having watched Laurie shmooze with the other attendees, the public. Making a show of who he was, it was so absurdly fake that she knew deep down. She knew she never really could know him at all.

As they walk to their seats, a suprise awaits them. sitting there looking more comfortable in his body, than aubrey could ever be, was Azrael Hottinguer. [The “best friend” of Laurie]

Unlike the other’s Azriel doesn’t get up to greet his future king. The couple walk over and Aubrey is somehow left in the center of the trio. They boys share a curt introduction as the ballet begins. Things are quiet, things are going well until Azriel moves in closer to Aubrey, and whispers close to her ear.

Az] You’ve seen this before, no?

Au] No this is a first.

Az] Ahh.

Laurie looks over, slightly perplexed. Aubrey can feel his gaze upon her, she ignores it. Quite frankly, she’s over the way Laurie treats her. Her care has flown out the window, and the more Laurie pays attention the better.

Az] … Something’s changed.

Au] It hasn’t.

Az] Did you finally realize what was so clearly in front of your eyes? Are you still denying…

Au] Why are you doing this? Is it to get back at him for something?

Az] (ammused) I’m merely trying to help.

Au] (suspicious) hmm.

The show is finished, the lights are back on. Laurie and Azriel are standing and chatting. Aubrey is still sitting down, very uncomfortable. Laurie has a way of excluding her, of making her feel invisible in the presense of others. As if she is a secret done can divulge, even himself.

The relationship between Azriel and Aubrey is interesting. It’s not one of romance, simply of user and toy. In honesty, Azriel is using her as a pawn, and for a girl who has not experienced the proper love on should recieve from a romantic interest. Aubrey is wary, and doesn’t notice what exactly it all means.

Az] Miss Stuart, you’ve been a lovely companion this evening.

La] You’ve got it confused, she’s mine.

Az] Forgive me, it’s just you haven’t looked at her all evening. One would guess you’re worse than strangers.

Au]…

He leans in and kisses her hand. something that has been a trend for Azriel and Aubrey. Making her flustered, and unable to think properly because (she isn’t used to such affections). Right as they do, a single flash interupts them, a paparazzi member having secured the image of the pair appearing to be more than cozy.

Au]S- Stop.

Az] [chuckling) it happens. they’ll be talking about this for a while, you’ll be relavent for a few more weeks.

Au] (annoyed) You hold yourself in such high regard.

L] (amused laughs)

The scene changes, Caroline and Laurie are sitting around a table. And She smacks a news article onto it. showing her disapproval at the situation.

The Magazine encapsulates Aubrey and Azriels “rendezvous”. A moment that is being taken way more out of context then it should.

C] What is this?

L] They’re just friends.

C] Friends? Laurie… I don’t care about what they are to each other. I care about what people are saying!

C] You can’t tell me this doesn’t look bad.

She is angry as she sips her tea (which she’s been doing all along).

L] (sighs) what do you want me to do about it?

C] Control your-

Caroline is interrupted by the woman who walks into the room. Giselle De La Valliere, walks in. This takes Laurie by suprise, in this state, he doesn’t bother about thinking of Caroline’s reaction. Instead he gets up and kisses her on the cheek like the Lavandish do. He pulls Giselle toward the table, his hand in hers. Caroline watches this, she sips her tea.

L] What are you doing here?

G] um, Her Royal Highness called for me.

L] You did? (to caroline)

C] I did.

L](anxious)… I can’t stay.

C] You told me you were excited for the first course.

L] (chuckling nervously) something came up.

C] that hair better be cut! (she yells after him)

He makes a break for it, leaving giselle behind. stranded alone with his very perceptive sister. Giselle eyes the headline on the table, she says nothing about it.

G] I should go…

C] sit, I’ve still got a lot of tea, I can’t finish it by myself.

(awkward laugh)

…

…

C] So… you and my brother?

G] Yes?

C] … I wasn’t able to attend the last gala at the Museum of Natural History. I heard you accompanied him in my stead.

G] (choked up)

C] Giselle, I hope you haven’t gotten involved with my brother. As you know, he’ll soon be engaged.

G] Engaged?

C] There are many who want to see him wed. Many who want to know our future Queen.

G] …To Ms. Aubrey?

C] (laughing) I haven’t a clue. By all accounts, you, could be a better match. But I dislike such disingenuous ways. I know what you’re after.

…

C] He is whom you should be convincing.

G]…

C] seeing as he’s not… available. You know what would be a terrible thing. You and Laurie are over… and breaking up such a happy relationship… it would be horrible.

G] I’m aware.

C] I’m glad.

[nexility-sims]

𝐍𝐎. 𝟗   ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜   |   CANARÍS, OCTOBER 1991

❧  𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲  /  𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠  /  𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬  /  𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

In Canarís, something shifted. Arnaut perceived it as subtle, and he struggled to name it when he wondered aloud to Lorraine. He danced around it, grasping for meaning in observations, but there was a simple explanation. In his gut, he felt that people had been happy to see him. Their family arrived at the train station as the work week ended, emerging like generations before them to a crowd of locals eager to greet royalty. German and Abelina were becoming accustomed to the rhythm of life in Uspana. It was cause for optimism that the newborns would grow up without the adjustment pains that the rest of the family faced. Just as well, their birth inspired a deluge of good press. Arnaut quickly learned the public more readily embraced him as a father than as someone capable or even destined to lead them. Yet, at the train station, the tenor of their shouts was different. The questions they asked were different. He embraced them, old women and teenagers and grinning toddlers, and they gazed at him with what struck him as new—changed, even—eyes. 

❧ we're back !!!!!!! gonna post the magazine covers separately :^) as a reminder, large text will be below the read-more going forward, for ~readability~

𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

Such welcomings happened everywhere, but residents of Canarís understood themselves to be reenacting a kind of ceremony when it was their turn. A century after abandoning Canarís, the House of Tecuani remained seemingly divided on where its capital lay. The seat of government was in Nakawe. The ancestral home was in Yaas. Many members preferred in recent decades to live by the sea in Canarís—or to buy second homes, at least. This was where the Hunter went when he descended from the mountains to build the kingdom of Uspana, joining seafaring families whose names were subsumed into the clan they chose to lead them. It was the capital until revolting Uspanians many generations later burned and razed much of it, including the king’s palace. There were no palaces in Canarís anymore. There were still magnificent estates, but everyone politely called them villas or cottages, speaking as if belief alone could render the enduring resplendence quaint and inoffensive. 

It was possible the crowd’s warmth felt so palpable because Arnaut had spent the entire train ride stewing in desperation. This vacation was unearned, he had decided. The Crown positioned holidays as indispensable. Beatriz herself set aside a few days each month to feign relaxation away from the capital; Arnaut held fond memories of those childhood getaways spent in Initizara, surrounded by their ever-expanding family. No one much had the stomach for Initizara these days, but the schedule of vacations remained.

Yet, Arnaut felt anxious. Didn’t it teeter on the dangerous edge of presumptuousness—promising to work hard, to change minds, and then sacrificing time to pleasure instead? He wrote the accusatory headlines in his head. More than just knowing their names, he listened to news commentators enough to conjure up imaginary criticisms in their voices. Should I smile? he wondered. Or would that make it worse, looking sour and ungrateful? They would ask what he had to complain about. They would think, ‘I’d lose my job if I ran off to Canarís for a week!’ Disapproval had a face in his mind. It was an older woman who watched daytime television while her grandchildren played nearby. She was a clan mother. She voted. She used a backstrap loom. She had looked into a television camera and insisted with dismay, ‘People don’t change at forty.’

Still, that was the sense he got as he interacted with the crowd. Some wanted to fawn over him. They said beguiling things about how excited they were to see him, how happy they were he had come to Canarís, how they prayed for him. The mood was distinct. These people were not just eager for photographs and stories to brag about; they hadn’t all joined the crowd amassing at the station for want of afternoon plans. For some of them, enough to matter, Arnaut inspired something positive. He wasn’t an unwanted pretender masquerading as their crown prince. His visit meant something to them because, in an undeniable way, he did. 

Later, he would finally blurt out to Lorraine, ‘I think they were proud of me—really, who knows why or if it’s true, but I believe they were.’

It wasn’t implausible. Arnaut had been hard at work for months, single-minded in his pursuit of improvement. Managing a crowd with charisma had never been an issue for him, but they were too often overcast by a cloud of suspicion and disappointment. On some level, he understood that the smiling faces and enthusiastic waving spoke for themselves and, in reality, his own insecurities were to blame for any misgivings. It was the litany of surveys and polls that shaped his reality, however. He obsessively watched the news, and his head swam with a flood of data pinpointing all the ways the nation found him lacking. It represented the millions of people who didn’t turn out in hopes of having their hand held by a prince for one brief, fleeting moment. Of course, those millions didn’t closely follow his real work, either—weren’t regular readers of tabloid rags like the National Exchange or newspapers of record like Relay. They responded instinctively to what was in the water. If the politicians at Nakawe Palace and the reporters who circled it and the royal family’s true fans found him lacking, the distaste became unimpeachable truth. It was truth to the faceless millions, and it was truth to him.

Lately, he had begun to feel like there was less blood in the water. 

They were joining Martin in Canarís, and the two families spent the time frolicking on the beach and dining under the stars. When they went out onto the water together, Martin confirmed Arnaut’s hunch. He suggested in his characteristic brusque way that Arnaut wasn’t as much of a laughable embarrassment as he had been that spring. Martin's wife was frail and almost a stranger, but she laughed heartily and smacked Arnaut’s arm after teasing out the admission that, yes, he was finally feeling likable. She was kind and likable herself, and her slow but steady decline was one of two dark spots on the vacation.

One morning, Arnaut found Martin out on the deck with remnants of breakfast and pages of print news splayed on the table. He only glance at them long enough to register what they were and remarked, “I thought we weren’t reading the news here,” as he sank down into an open seat. 

Martin’s nose was in a copy of the Fiscal Register. He replied without looking up, “Not really news, is it?” 

Examining the pages, a series of similar headlines grabbed Arnaut’s attention. He slid one of the papers, reorienting it in his direction, and absorbed the cover story with wide eyes. It wasn’t unusual to see Leonor on the front page of tabloids. She had become an exciting subject, and the loyal pack of photographers that trailed her around Nakawe ensured a steady supply of intriguing, occasionally outrageous, exploitable pictures. Arnaut remembered those days. Or, he remembered something akin to what her life was now, so limitless and delicious as to be out of control, with the crucial distinction that the press felt less hungry in his memories. His bad stories came from trustworthy leaks given to reputable journalists, not from candid photographs that spoke—screamed, really—for themselves. He had also never found himself in the mess Leonor appeared to have fallen into almost overnight. These covers offered grainy but unmistakable pictures of her, and Arnaut didn’t need to believe the sensational headlines and captions to be troubled by what the images suggested. 

“Did you see this?” he demanded of Martin, his tone incredulous. He flipped the paper around and pointed at the picture dominating the page. 

Martin lowered his paper. “Obviously. These aren’t here to be decorative.” 

Slowly, Arnaut blinked. “Is that it?” he asked. “You don’t—what, really, no thoughts? It’s shocking, isn’t it? Does anyone know—they do, they must, but what are we doing?” 

He might have continued with this attempt to process the news aloud, but Martin interrupted him. “We’re not doing anything.”

“Aren’t you concerned?” 

Martin shrugged. “It’s a little dramatic, huh?” 

“Is it?” Arnaut shuffled the papers together and read from them. “‘Princess L’s Big Plunge—Almost,’ ‘“Wanted to End It All,” Friend Says,’ 'Drug-Induced Psychosis? Our Expert Speaks on Page 3—’” Arnaut huffed. “I mean, look!”

“We’d know if it was that serious,” Martin replied, untroubled. “You see her all the time, don’t you? Either you can’t be that surprised or it’s all nonsense. You tell me.” 

At this, Arnaut frowned. It was a stretch to say they saw each other that frequently. Leonor’s preference was to behave like coworkers, not like relatives and certainly not like people who had always been bound together by deep love for the same remarkable person. Her hours were erratic at best, but it was difficult to complain when no one else did. The people on their team knew her; she had been gifted their unshakeable trust at birth, it seemed, and he struggled with envy for that. When she jeopardized the infallibility of that trust, she would do something to shore it up—impeccable contributions on the policy front, experience-informed insight in a meeting, effortlessly leveraging valuable connections that Arnaut still bumbled his way through. She was living a double life of sorts, so was the problem that she did it too well?

“Maybe she’s fine,” he ventured, folding his arms on the table. Martin had set aside the Fiscal Register and was looking at the papers Arnaut had reorganized. As he did, Arnaut continued, “You know, she looks thinner, but she seems better? I suppose it seemed inappropriate to comment on that kind of thing—everyone else does, so why would I? Someone would say, if she wasn’t healthy. And, she’s there, she’s present, except for when she’s literally not there, which, frankly, is often, but—” At this, Martin snickered. “Even if she’s not actually—uh, what would you say?” 

“A drug addict?” Martin offered, grinning.

Arnaut groaned. “Right, okay. Even if she's not doing that badly, then ... She's going to get in trouble for this. I haven't talked to Mama lately, but—”

Martin sat back in his chair. “Oh,” he said, making a show of the pause in a way Arnaut found obnoxious. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“What?” Arnaut retorted. “Don’t be an asshole.” 

“Well!” Martin exclaimed, raising his hands. “Look, it’s a mistake to think that this isn’t ... part of the plan.”

“Plan?”

Looking solemn, Martin nodded. “You know Mama reads the tabloids every day. She’s worse than anyone. I think she likes getting mad, or maybe she just likes the gossip that much—” Arnaut waved a hand, and Martin sniffed. “Anyway, she knows what’s going on. Absolutely. I guarantee she knew about this story before either of us did.” 

Their mother was a voracious consumer of lurid slop, Arnaut knew. It was a hobby of hers in the same way other people read literature or advice columns. Copies were delivered nightly, and she read them alongside her stack of briefs and letters. Broadly, she was part of their target audience. Uspana’s gossip rags, especially those with an emphasis on royalty, targeted women of a certain age who had grown up alongside Beatriz, who felt empowered by her unprecedented reign, and who saw themselves as equivalent matriarchs in their own communities. They were gatekeepers. They dispensed advice. They protected order, tradition, and the future itself. In all gossip, they found tools to aid their missions, whether it was identifying local problems or raising new national specters to be exercised from their communities. On a baser level, one that was just as real for Beatriz, witnessing other people’s private messes spilled in public gave them an enjoyable reprieve from cleaning up those that were their responsibilities. 

Arnaut nodded. “But ... This is a problem, Martin. It looks terrible for all of us, and Leonor is—she’s official, not someone on the sidelines.”

To Arnaut’s surprise, this elicited a knowing smirk from Martin. He nodded and said, “That’s right. Think about it, okay? I know this isn’t your strong suit, but there’s a logic here. It’s a simple idea. Give someone enough rope, and they’ll hang themselves, eh?” Martin mimed the tug of a noose, sticking his tongue out. Arnaut winced as he asked, “Does that ring a bell?”

It did, but it wasn’t clarifying. Arnaut frowned. “I don’t ... Why would that be helpful?” 

Martin shrugged. “Mama’s from the old way. Competition? Neutralize it.”

“What?” Realization dawned on Arnaut as Martin sat staring at him, pleased with himself, and he struggled to beat it back. It was the kind of awareness he didn’t want to have, that would be a burden on his heart, but Martin was determined he have it. 

“What? What!” Martin laughed, mocking, before concluding, “It makes you look better. If our little niece is out ruining herself, less people are going to be daydreaming about the alternate universe where she does a Beatriz and—”

Arnaut held up his hands. “Alright, I get it. That’s horrible.”

“That’s Mama,” Martin quipped. “But, you know—”  

Perhaps as no coincidence, Lorraine and German appeared in the doorway behind Martin’s shoulder. She offered a greeting, and Martin waved before picking up his paper again. The conversation was over. Arnaut looked up at her with gratitude in his eyes, and German leapt over on cue with a large kite in his hands. 

“Can we go?” he asked, looking briefly at his uncle before tugging Arnaut’s hand. “The wind is perfect, and Julian is saying I don’t have the right ‘energy’ for flying kites. I don’t even know what that means. They’re not alive, are they?” 

Arnaut chuckled and stood up. “Let’s go find out, huh?”

TRANSCRIPT:

[Crowd clamoring]

ARNAUT | I thought we weren’t reading the news here. MARTIN | Not really news, is it? ARNAUT | Did you see this? MARTIN | Obviously. These aren't here to be decorative.

ARNAUT | Is that it? You don’t—what, really, no thoughts? It’s shocking, isn’t it? Does anyone know—they do, they must, but what are we doing? MARTIN | We're not doing anything. ARNAUT | Aren't you concerned? MARTIN | It's a little dramatic, huh?

ARNAUT | Is it? "Princess L’s Big Plunge—Almost," "'Wanted to End It All,' Friend Says," "Drug-Induced Psychosis? Our Expert Speaks on Page 3—”

ARNAUT | [huffs] I mean, look! MARTIN | You see her all the time, don't you? Either you can't be that surprised or it's all nonsense. You tell me.

ARNAUT | Maybe she's fine. You know, she looks thinner, but she seems better? I suppose it seemed inappropriate to comment on that kind of thing—everyone else does, so why would I? Someone would say, if she wasn’t healthy. And, she’s there, she’s present, except for when she’s literally not there, which, frankly, is often, but— [Martin snickers]

ARNAUT | Even if she’s not actually—uh, what would you say? MARTIN | A drug addict?

ARNAUT | Right, okay. Even if she's not doing that badly, then … She's going to get in trouble for this. I haven't talked to Mama lately, but—

MARTIN | Oh. You don't get it, do you? ARNAUT | What? Don't be an asshole.

MARTIN | Look, it's a mistake to think that this isn't … part of the plan. ARNAUT | Plan? MARTIN | You know Mama reads the tabloids every day. She’s worse than anyone. I think she likes getting mad, or maybe she just likes the gossip that much—Anyway, she knows what’s going on. Absolutely. I guarantee she knew about this story before either of us did.

ARNAUT | But … This is a problem, Martin. It looks terrible for all of us, and Leonor is—she’s official, not someone on the sidelines.

MARTIN | That’s right. Think about it, okay? I know this isn’t your strong suit, but there’s a logic here. It’s a simple idea. Give someone enough rope, and they’ll hang themselves, eh? Does that ring a bell?

ARNAUT | I don't … Why would that be helpful? MARTIN | Mama's from the old way. Competition? Neutralize it. ARNAUT | What? MARTIN | “What? What!” [laughs] It makes you look better. If our little niece is out ruining herself, less people are going to be daydreaming about the alternate universe where she does a Beatriz and—

ARNAUT | I don't … Alright, I get it. That's horrible.

MARTIN | That's Mama. But, you know—

[empiredesimparte]

Live broadcast of ‘Le Sacre de Napoléon V’ on the national channel Francesim 2, hosted by Stéphane Bernard

(Stéphane Bernard) This is an exercise rarely undertaken by the French imperial family. In truth, few could have imagined that this ceremony would take place on the occasion of the coronation, especially considering the recent turmoil. However, His Majesty is determined to deliver a powerful message to all his detractors and to strengthen ties with the French people.

(Stéphane Bernard) Emperor Napoleon V must establish his style and herald change to win back his people. After the coronation ceremony, will we witness the swearing-in of all the bodies that constitute Francesim, thereby renewing their allegiance to the Emperor? His Majesty must make a successful entrance into his reign and, I believe, in some way, significantly transform Francesim.

(Stéphane Bernard) He will need to find the right words, gestures of appeasement, and an attitude that will bring about national unity. Many skeptics doubt his abilities due to his young age, barely 19 years old. Yet, this walkabout evokes the image of a thaumaturgic emperor, soothing ailments through direct contact with the people. This, in fact, is one of the foundations of the Napoleonic idea: the Emperor and the People. Of course, thaumaturgy is irrational, and hardly anyone truly believes in it nowadays. Nonetheless, the people display a strong desire to form a connection with this young emperor, in whom they can see themselves.

(Another journalist) What do you think, Stéphane, about Empress Charlotte? Will she live up to the role that awaits her? She's only 19 too

(Stéphane Bernard) Empress Charlotte will undoubtedly be an essential pillar for His Majesty Emperor Napoleon V. Already, she enjoys immense popularity among the French. She is a woman of great intellect, full of charm, and remarkable beauty. Strangely, she gives the impression of having always been part of the imperial family. She understands the role: sacrificing her private life on the altar of the monarchy. The couple must now take up the mantle and embody modernity.

(Stéphane Bernard) On screen, you can see the majestic entrance gate of the Château de Versailles. It is here, in this historic location, that the gala is being prepared, where tonight all the greatest heads of state in the world will be present. Choosing Versailles is not incidental. It is about showcasing French culture and refinement, a heritage to which we are all deeply attached!

(Stéphane Bernard) A glimpse of the famous Hall of Mirrors where the Imperial Household is preparing for the arrival of the Emperor's guests. It's an unconventional coronation, for several reasons. Tomorrow, Francesim will become the center of the world. The young imperial couple, in the spotlight, will seize this unique moment to assert themselves brilliantly on the diplomatic stage. The Emperor has wished to showcase all the splendor that Francesim is capable of. His Majesty has spared no expense to ensure that these days are truly unforgettable.

(Stéphane Bernard) Allow me to tell you about the regalia, these symbols of power that are currently safely housed in the Palais des Tuileries, in the heart of Paris. They will soon be transported to the cathedral for the grand ceremony. I must confess, I have been preparing for this event for nearly ten years, and like all of you, I am eagerly awaiting the realization of this historic moment!

(Other journalist) Isn't a coronation somewhat outdated today? Couldn't it be "simpler", like republican ceremonies?

(Stéphane Bernard) Yes, it's quaint. However, it remains an indispensable rite for the Nation to commune and identify with. In these times of identity retreat, the monarchy provides a path to overcome these divisions. As long as this symbol endures, it will continue to serve as a unifying force – and the Napoléons, better than anyone, have understood this well. Unfortunately, our Presidents of the Republic have never managed to accomplish this mission with the same grandeur.

⚜ Le Sacre de Napoléon V | N°1 | Francesim, Paris, 27 Thermidor An 230

The imperial couple took a walkabout on the eve of the coronation. It was broadcast live on television by Stéphane Bernard, the famous journalist covering crowned heads in Francesim.

Beginning ▬ Previous ▬ Next

⚜ Traduction française

Le bain de foule demeure un exercice fort peu usité par la famille impériale française. En vérité, bien peu parmi nous pouvaient imaginer que ce cérémonial se déroulerait à l'occasion du couronnement, surtout en considérant les tumultes récents. Cependant, Sa Majesté, avec une détermination à toute épreuve, aspire à délivrer un message puissant à tous ses détracteurs et à resserrer les liens avec le peuple français !

L'empereur Napoléon V doit arriver à imprimer son style et à annoncer le changement pour reconquérir son peuple. Après la cérémonie de couronnement, assisterons-nous à la prestation de serment de tous les corps constituant la Francesim, renouvelant ainsi leur allégeance à l'Empereur ? Sa Majesté doit réussir son entrée de règne et, je crois, d'une certaine manière, bouleverser la Francesim de manière significative

Il va devoir avoir les mots, les gestes d'apaisement et d'attitude qui permettront de ramener l'union nationale. Bien des sceptiques doutent de ses capacités en raison de son jeune âge, à peine 19 ans. Pourtant, ce bain de foule évoque l'image d'un empereur thaumaturge, apaisant les maux par le contact direct entre le peuple et le souverain. C'est d'ailleurs, l'un des fondements de l'idée napoléonienne : l'Empereur et le Peuple. Bien sûr, la thaumaturgie relève de l'irrationnel, et plus personne n'y croit réellement de nos jours. Néanmoins, le peuple manifeste un désir ardent de créer un lien avec ce jeune empereur, en qui l'on peut s'identifier

(Autre journaliste) Que pensez-vous Stéphane de l'impératrice Charlotte ? Sera-t-elle à la hauteur du rôle qui l'attend ?

L'impératrice Charlotte sera sans doute un pilier essentiel pour Sa Majesté l'empereur Napoléon V. Déjà, elle jouit d'une popularité immense auprès des Français. C'est une femme d'esprit, pleine de charme et d'une beauté remarquable. Etrangement, elle donne l'impression d'avoir toujours appartenu à la famille impériale. Elle a compris le job : aliéner sa vie privée sur l'autel de la monarchie. Le couple doit désormais prendre la relève et incarner la modernité.

A l'écran, vous voyez le majestueux portail d'entrée du château de Versailles. C'est ici, dans ce lieu historique, que se prépare le gala où seront présents ce soir tous les plus grands chefs d'état du monde. Choisir Versailles n'est pas anodin. Il s'agit de mettre au premier plan la culture et le raffinement à la française, ce patrimoine auquel nous sommes tous si attachés.

Une vue sur la célèbre galerie des glaces où la Maison Impériale prépare l'arrivée des invités de l'Empereur. C'est un couronnement atypique, pour plusieurs raisons. Demain, la Francesim deviendra le centre du monde. Le jeune couple impérial, en pleine lumière, saisira cet instant unique pour s'affirmer avec éclat sur la scène diplomatique. L'empereur a souhaité mettre à l'honneur toute la splendeur dont la Francesim est capable. Sa Majesté n’a pas épargné la moindre dépense pour que ces journées soit véritablement inoubliables

Permettez-moi de vous parler des regalia, ces insignes de pouvoir qui, pour l'instant, reposent en toute sécurité au palais des Tuileries, au cœur de Paris. Ils seront bientôt transportés à la cathédrale pour la grande cérémonie. Je dois vous confier que je me prépare pour cet événement depuis près de dix ans, et comme vous tous, je brûle d'impatience de voir ce moment historique se réaliser !

(Autre journaliste) N'est-ce pas un peu désuet aujourd'hui, un couronnement ? Ca ne pourrait pas être plus "simple" comme les cérémonies républicaines ?

On peut penser qu'un couronnement est une tradition désuète de nos jours. Oui, c'est désuet. Cependant, il s'agit d'un rite indispensable pour permettre à la Nation de communier et de s'identifier. En ces temps de repli identitaire, la monarchie offre une voie pour surmonter ces divisions. Tant que ce symbole perdure, il continuera de jouer son rôle de rassembleur – et les Napoléons, mieux que quiconque, l'ont bien compris. Nos présidents de la République, hélas, n'ont jamais su accomplir cette mission avec la même grandeur.

[bridgeportbritt]

Willington Palace | Sage, SimDonia

Friendly chatter

Diana: Hello everyone. Thanks for joining me here today. I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here...

Spencer: I hope it's not because we're all in trouble!

The group laughs

Diana laughs dryly: Well, not exactly. But there is a serious matter that I need to speak with you all about.

Silence

Diana: As you know, there have been quite a few changes taking place within the monarchy. New rules, new procedures and such. One of those changes included regular visits with a monarch physician. While we were ensuring that all family members were healthy and receiving the best care, there was another reason why everyone was required to do this.

Diana: You see, we've known for quite some time that there is something affecting this family - an illness. Previously, we've only focused on monarchs and heirs and how they were affected. But this approach proved ineffective. So, we began testing other members of the family to get better results. You're all here because the testing we've done shows that you or your children or spouses are affected.

Surprised and concerned murmer

Lydia clears throat: Let Her Majesty continue!

Diana: I know that this is concerning, but there is good news. The testing has not only helped us discover who is affected and why. But we've also discovered a short-term treatment. The goal, of course, is to find a cure, but this is a step in the right direction.

Ian: May we speak, Your Majesty?

Diana: Of course.

Ian: What exactly is the illness and what is the cause you discovered?

Diana: The illness is actually a genetic defect passed down from King William ll likely due to his time as a locksmith before the war. What happens is certain cells in your body are attacked especially when under chronic stress. That is why so many monarchs were tested and treated most as the stress of the job often triggered the illness causing other issues. My father included.

Sarah: Is this the illness that killed King Parker?

Diana: ...Yes. It has caused a lot of harm to this mainly to monarchs and heirs. My father, brother and I included.

Spencer: This has caused a great deal of harm to our family. It is the reason Elizabeth and I were never able to produce an heir. My brother the late King William lll was also affected. Abdicating early was likely the only thing that prolonged his life even for the short time it did.

Emmitt: My grandfather... What about my father?

Spencer: As far as I know, he was not affected, but there is no way to know for sure as he was never tested since he wasn't a monarch or heir.

Bria annoyed: Okay, let me get this straight. There is some secret family illness that has been literally killing people, you guys have known about it, started testing on us and our kids without our knowledge, and know you have some major treatment that we know nothing about, and we're just supposed to trust this?

Diana: I understand how this sounds, but this is something that could not have been widely known. Especially when we didn't have all the information.

Lydia: And Your Royal Highness, it's 'Your Majesty' when you address the Queen!

Diana: Lydia, it's alright. Bria, please understand that the last thing I've wanted to do is keep this from all of you. But if this got out, it would reflect negatively on the royal family.

Bria: No, Diana. I don't think you understand. You're telling me that you have withheld medical information from me about my children. As a mother, I'm sure you can understand how that crosses a line!

Diana: Bria, your children are a part of this family, this monarchy. That information was only withheld due to the damage it could cause the entire family including them.

Bria angry: I don't care about this monarchy! This institution is clearly why my kids and husband could be sick!

Spencer: Okay, I think we all just need to take a breather. Everyone in this room is affected here. Bria, you have to know that it was not up to Diana to keep this secret. Even she didn't know until recently. Previously only monarchs held this information and that's only if they were affected.

Bria: Ugh, this whole place is insane! Don't you see how crazy that is? You people care more about the monarchy than the people in it!

Diana: That's not true, Bria. I care...

Bria: No, it is true, Diana. I know very well. You care only when it serves you. That's how this whole monarchy game serves works. And I've played it long enough! I will not let me kids be victim to this machine.

Diana: Bria, what are you saying?

Bria: I expect all my family's medical records to be sealed and sent to us personally. We will be finding our own outside medical care. And as far as I'm concerned, my kids are done with whatever this is. Emmitt, Ella, let's go.