#the young imperial envoy

[endlessthoughtsofafangirl]

The Young Imperial Envoy | 少年大钦差 Jin Dong as Xu An

[lovefrombegonia]

Imagine you're Prince Ejain Afnan Nelarn:

Imagine being him, a young prince who is visiting the Orr Empire as a foreign envoy of Nelarn but you're really here out of desperation and helplessness. You're anxious as you're walking in the imperial gardens of the Orr Imperial palace. You're surrounded by beautiful flowers, of pretty bright colours, the sweet scent of blooms in the air. But your mind still cannot enjoy the scenery because your head is full of thoughts about all the death traps and conspiracies surrounding you ever since you could even speak full sentences properly. The bright reds and pinks and lovely pastels and golden yellow blooms do something to give you some temporary comfort. But not enough to distract you from your despairing thoughts.

Just then...the sweet smell shifts a little. It's like the gardens are offering you ripe apples and strawberries. Ejain can't help but follow the smell. That's when he sees someone, observing a flower covered column, lost in his own thoughts. Surrounded by pastels and greens of the gardens, the young man with his dark hair and pale look draws a sharp contrast. It's like watching an apparition from the past. The stillness he feels by looking at him is eerily calming. And he talks at him, the young man turns around... Ejain can't help but be a bit mesmerized by the aura this stark beauty radiates. A beauty, he is but not the conventional kind. He is all sharpness, and stoic. Dark intimidating eyes, no smiles but never rude. Answering his questions in short, barely full sentences. Ejain can't help but be drawn to this enigmatic person.

How fortunate I am, thinks Ejain, as the same man who seems to have never left his thoughts, has come to rescue his people from monsters. Ejain can't help but think that maybe he wants to be more than just a foreign prince to Yuder Aile. Ah...Yuder Aile... For some reason even this ordinary name sounds like poetry to Ejain. Yuder Aile, the Commander's assistant. Yuder Aile, the master of natural elements. Yuder Aile...the one he would want to be by his side...

[nientedenada]

The Peasant Princess Rewritten (by an Actual Peasant)

Developed from asks originally on @norieleanduril into a post for r/teslore. I rewrite one of my least favourite ESO stories.

Preface by Alys Thierry, Scholar of Breton folklore.

Some years ago, before the War, I enjoyed the rare privilege of making a journey into Valenwood as an interpreter of Aldmeri languages for the Imperial envoy, Falco Attius. As a student of folklore, I was excited to speak with the locals about their regional tales and customs. Sadly, very few Dominion citizens felt comfortable enough to speak to an Imperial stranger. I should have expected that. There were few times that we were not accompanied by a pleasant but uninformative justiciar.

I had some rare successes with a handful of mer who were either daring enough to brave our justiciar's glares or so unobservant they did not notice them. Most memorable among the latter group was an Altmer footsoldier stationed in Falinesti who not only answered my inquiries but a few days later slipped me a letter to further elaborate on his answers.

This curious document was written in the common dialect of the Isles, consistent with the author's peasant-class background, but is peppered with more formal words and expressions. It would seem the author is imitating more erudite authors, with questionable success. I do hope the author was not punished for his association with me. He was very helpful in expanding my understanding of Altmer culture outside the hallowed halls of academia or court.

_____________________________________ Most Honoured Nebarra Lady,

You asked me if the mer of Summerset actually enjoy stories like The Peasant Princess and I was sorry to say I had never heard of it. But after we spoke, I went looking in an old library and found it. It's a very old play and indubitably one of the worst stories I've ever perused. It begins with a beautiful young servant girl whose mistress dresses her up as a princess to go to a ball. There, she meets a Kinlord who falls for her, and then when she tells him she's not actually a princess, he rants at her for tricking him. Then she realizes she should just be a servant, because her family are servants. The End. No wonder I never heard of this story before.

Sure, this is how it might happen in real life. But that doesn't make it a good story! I suppose this play was commissioned by some smug official to try to show the public a good moral exemplar. Town-reeves always put on the worst public entertainment.

The tales the common people actually enjoy back home are stories about clever farmers or labourers who run circles around their landlords and priests.

So, I have decided it would be meritorious to rewrite this play’s ending so that it may educate the reader in full about our traditional Altmer culture.

I'm keeping this part:

Narrator: So great was Virenire's beauty, she caught the eye of the young prince. Forgetting all decorum, he went over to her and asked for a dance. And so the prince and the servant girl danced for a good portion of the night.

Prince: I've never seen such a beautiful mer. Tell me, who are your parents?

Virenire: Oh, dear prince, I feel I must be honest. My parents are poor peasants, and I but a serving girl to a wealthy mistress.

Narrator: Gazing upon the beautiful eyes of such an entrancing mer, the good Prince came to a startling realization.

Prince: Why, I've been tricked! Here I thought you were a noble mer of good standing, who I might court and one day wed. But you are a mere servant girl.

Now, this prince isn't going to marry a servant girl, of course, that would never happen. And he isn't a nice person, anyway, claiming she tricked him when she told him the truth the moment he asked. We need a better ending here. Virenire needs to use her brains and get what she deserves. It's time for her to turn in her Mistress.

See, the reason Virenire is at the Ball dressed up as a princess is that her Mistress wanted to show her how abject and low-class she was, even if she wore a beautiful dress. She was set up to fail by a woman who didn't care about her or the Prince’s feelings. But the main character of a fairy tale should be quick-witted, so here's my new edition of her response.

Virenire: Oh dear prince, I would never have dared trick you. I am only here at my Mistress' command. If she designed a slight against you, forgive me my ignorance. I am just a simple serving girl who knows her place and does as her lady tells her.

The prince then takes out his anger on that viper Lady Teryldil, who is called away to the capital to face the displeasure of the Prince’s Kinship. Virenire keeps all the jewels and the dress, which she later uses as a dowry to marry a decent young man she'd already had her eye on.

The story is now greatly improved, and think I will petition the village puppeteer to do a performance next time I'm home in Auridon.

You also wanted to know if there was a Valenwood version of this story. I asked my Spinner friend Galethor, since he is a master of all Valenwood lore. He says he has never heard such a story but if it was set in Valenwood, the serving girl would reveal to the prince that she is a long-lost offshoot of the Camoran family, the prince would marry her to secure his claim, and together they’d start a new Civil War for the throne at Elden Root.

He may have been joking, but doesn't that sound a lot like the chapters on Valenwood history in the official Dominion textbooks?

Your Honoured Informant,

[Name Redacted to protect the author's identity.] _____________ Notes:

The Peasant Princess, A Play in One Act is subtitled A demoralizing tale surrounding the Altmer's adherence to tradition. And boy is it demoralizing! It's a lesson taught to the people to keep in their place.

But I wondered if this is really the sort of story that the peasants themselves would tell. Enter Norieleanduril, Noriel for short, who previously has been my voice for the common Summerset folk. With Noriel I try to avoid the usual character tropes (mine too) of Altmer scholars, aristocrats and justiciars, and instead present a more down-to-earth perspective of life for the regular person in Summerset, who has some of the prejudices and beliefs taught by the priests and upper classes, but with their own perspective. (Though he's probably 100 percent sillier than most regular Altmer.)

[miffy-junot]

Felix Yusupov on his imprisonment in Crimea under the German army, and the news of the murder of the Romanovs

We awoke to be told that the Germans had arrived. This was a solution of our difficulties that no one had foreseen.

It was then April and a few days before Easter. On March 8, the Soviet government had signed the peace of Brest-Litovsk, and the Germans had begun occupying certain parts of Russia. They liked to pose as liberators to an over-credulous population who were exhausted by trials and privations and only too happy to welcome them as such. It was, in fact, their arrival that saved the lives of the prisoners of Dulber. The general rejoicings over their sudden and unexpected release can well be imagined. The German officer wanted to hang Zadorozhny and his men. He was thunderstruck when the Grand Dukes begged him not to dream of such a thing. On the contrary, they asked him to leave Ai-Todor under the protection of their late jailers. The German finally consented, on condition that he was relieved of all responsibility should anything go wrong. It was quite clear that he was convinced that their prolonged detention had driven the poor Grand Dukes mad. A few days later, after touching farewells, the jailers and their prisoners parted. The younger ones cried and kissed the hands of their former captives!

In May, one of the Kaiser's aides-de-camp arrived in Yalta. He brought with him an offer from his Imperial master to proclaim Tsar of all the Russias any member of the Imperial family who would consent to countersign the Treaty of Brest-Litovsk. All the Romanovs present rejected the proposal with indignation. The Kaiser's envoy then asked my father-in-law to arrange a meeting with me. The Grand Duke refused, saying that no member of his family would ever turn traitor. After their release, the prisoners remained for some time at Dulber; then the Empress went to live at Harax, an estate belonging to the Grand Duke Georgy, one of my father-in-law's brothers, and the rest returned to their homes.

As time went by, things became more or less normal. The relief felt by the older generation was tinged with a certain uneasiness, but the young people gave themselves up to the joy and excitement of being alive and free. Life became a round of pleasures: picnics, tennis parties, outings of all kinds. We found a new distraction in the founding of a weekly magazine. A friend of ours, Olga Vasiliev, a charming and intelligent girl, was editor. We used to meet at Koreiz every Sunday evening. After the latest news, Olga would read aloud the articles that each of her sixteen correspondents had written during the week on a subject left to their own choice. This was usually either some fabulous adventure, or an imaginary journey to some distant land, which was rather touching when one thinks how uncertain was the future of the youthful authors. The meetings began and ended with a hymn to the glory of the newspaper, which we sang in chorus. As the electric current was cut off at midnight, these evenings generally ended in candlelight. The interest which our parents took in our magazine and the amusement they derived from it did not prevent their feeling a trifle uneasy, for they knew that, in such troubled times, the most innocent pastimes were dangerous. Our periodical had a short life. It appeared only thirteen times; then all the members of the staff, one after the other, were laid low with Spanish flu. When, later on, we were obliged to fly for our lives and had to reduce our luggage to a minimum, the first thing that my wife packed was the gazette.

The Grand Duke Alexander had given his daughter a grove of pine trees, perched on a cliff above the sea, an enchanting spot. In 1915, we had built a little country house there; it was whitewashed inside and out, and had a green-tiled roof. As it was on a slope it was all lopsided, and its greatest charm lay in its complete lack of symmetry. A carpet of flowers stretched before the front door. A few steps led down from the entrance to a gallery overlooking the hall, which gave onto a terrace with a fountain in the center. Through another door one reached the swimming pool, which was surrounded by a pergola smothered in roses and wisteria, as was the house. As the cottage was all on different levels, it lent itself to a profusion of funny little staircases, unexpected corners, landings and balconies. The furniture was of oak with chintz cushions, and was somewhat like old English country furniture; there were rush mats on the floor instead of carpets. We were, alas, never able to live in the place, but during the comparatively happy days of the summer of 1918 we sometimes had picnics there. Food was scarce and the guests had to bring their own, but there was plenty of wine as everyone in the Crimea owned vineyards. There was also no lack of gaiety, for the young are ever ready to forget the trials of the day and look forward with eagerness to the future, however threatening it may be.

It was the day before one of these picnics that we heard that the Tsar and his family had been assassinated. But there were so many wild rumors afloat at the time that nobody believed them any longer, and the party was not even canceled. The news was denied a few days later, and a letter was published purporting to have been written by the officer who had saved their lives. Soon, alas, it was no longer possible to doubt the terrible truth. But even then the [Dowager] Empress Maria refused to believe it, and to her dying day treasured the hope of seeing her son again.

source: Lost Splendour by Felix Yusupov, chapter 26

[ghoulsbeard]

At noonday the College common is packed with hungry young prentices, a handful of traders, journeymen and masters and an envoy from the jarl having her lunch. Wispy clouds flit overhead on a biting steady wind. No sign of any Synod stragglers listening in— or Thalmor robes.

“I understand the budget is stretched thin,” Colette says, as usual, with an eye on the envoy, but then— she fidgets with her scarf in a little self-conscious gesture, and studiously avoids Mirabelle’s eyes, as she has not done before. “In my younger years I served as scribe to a shipping clerk. I wouldn’t deign to pen your letters, of course, Master Wizard; but I have a good eye for copying, and a clear hand.”

From Tolfdir, gently: “Terrible on the back, you know. Sleeping in that dreadful desk chair.”

Mirabelle steps aside for a string of chattering teenagers hauling armfuls of books and spellery supplies. “…I will consider that, thank you, Colette.” She is surprised by the steadiness of her own voice. “But to business, while I have you both. There is still the matter of Mzulft.”

“Dear me,” says Tolfdir.

Colette frowns. “Plinius and his set are two days gone.”

“Loria asked after them the other day. She’s convinced— that is, the Augur, the orb, this old staff they’re all determined to unearth.” She glances round again for Ancano and doesn’t find him. “I don’t believe in coincidence. And I won’t have them pin our students in the middle of their plans. We must be ready for trouble.”

“The Archmage,” Colette begins, and trails away. “…Yes, of course. Whatever is needed.”

“I don’t like any of it,” Tolfdir agrees. “The scroll and Saarthal have been trouble enough.”

Mirabelle drops her voice. “If this staff of Magnus should come to our halls— ”

“Master Wizard,” Colette cuts in primly. “You have a visitor.”

Mirabelle turns; at her elbow, Urag’s nervous young assistant clears her throat. It’s the first time Mirabelle has seen her dressed in College colors. The faded sash and mantle are both a touch too large.

She smiles. “Good afternoon.”

The poor young woman trembles all over.

“Ervine!” Arniel Gane appears as if unhelpfully conjured, harried and out of temper, storming her direction from the Hall of Attainment.

“I, um,” says Tsona-Vos. Her frills flutter. “Ah, never mind— I can see you’re very busy…”

“You may return during office hours,” Colette intones, scowling Arniel’s direction.

“I did,” Tsona-Vos says, miserably, and then as Mirabelle watches she lashes her tail and draws herself up. “Master Wizard, I— I’ve made you something— and Nirya said it was well done.”

She can feel Tolfdir raising his eyebrows.

“By her stars!” murmurs Colette.

The gift is a bronze pendant, about the size of a standard Imperial coin, thick and dark and sorceled from heart to cool circumference in a sternly woven shielding charm. It’s her policy to scrutinize magical gifts, but the craft involved is confident; and many of her students have been frightened since the Augur spoke. She had no idea Tsona-Vos was studying enchantment.

“How thoughtful,” Mirabelle observes. “This is fine work.”

Tsona-Vos gapes for a moment, then startles to attention and awkwardly clasps her hands at her back with a fraction of Urag’s gravity. “Er, yes. I mean—! Thank you, Master Wizard! I…”

“Mistress Ervine,” Arniel yowls as he advances from behind a group of gossiping journeymen.

Tolfdir touches her shoulder. “Alterationist at thirty paces.”

“I’ll put it on right now,” Mirabelle decides, and somehow Tsona-Vos’ huge stunned eyes seem to widen even further. “Thank you.”

“Oh,” cries Tsona-Vos, rambling her gratitude, and waves with both hands when Mirabelle bids her good day. At the gatehouse Faralda and a fellow in a sealskin coat have gotten into some loud disagreement with Enthir, swanning about half-frozen in his dressing gown. Mirabelle tucks the gift beneath her collar, with a private grimace for the rough twine it hangs on.

“If this staff of Magnus should come to us, we’ll have more to contend with than the Synod.”

“Perhaps the Augur has been misinterpreted,” Colette suggests under her breath.

“Just so,” Tolfdir agrees, turning to wave at Onmund and Brelyna. “And it will take them a week to return from Mzulft, a week at least. In the meantime I’d like another look round Hall of the Elements— if you don’t mind, Mirabelle.”

“Well,” Mirabelle begins, sharply, but then Gane is upon her all afrost. At the edge of the crowd, Ancano meets her gaze and smiles.

——————

There was no time or sense to any of it. Later it came back out of order: Ancano’s shadowed face in the screaming light of the Eye— the sucking gasp at the center of her chest where something woke— an airless shattering bright tide of will— the wave of magic risen to his hand. She thought she remembered Faralda carrying an apprentice under each arm. She knew Tolfdir lingered at the doors, even without seeing him actually do it; nothing and no one could persuade him to leave her behind, despite being ordered out with the rest. The blast itself never returned except in certain dreams.

She had a dim idea of being thrown, hard; then Tolfdir was shaking her by the shoulders, where she was flat on her back instead of her feet, bruisy-headed, piled like a sack of fish against the cold chamber wall. “Not like this, no, Wolf-mother, please not like this, please, please— Mirabelle. Please, Mirabelle. Can you hear me?”

She moved her tongue around a mouth of blood and magic ash. “Yes.” The air blazed pale terrible blue. Her eyes stung. For a moment Savos hung over her, concerned or confused; she blinked hard and he was gone.

“Can you get to your feet? Take my hand. In her claws, Mirabelle, I can’t believe you— I thought— ” his voice shook. “I feared…” He shut his eyes, smiling, and shook his head. By the Eye’s wall of endless light he looked old as the cliffs. “I’ll be grateful for your luck as long as I live.”

“I don’t understand it either,” Mirabelle told him, lowly. Tolfdir’s face shuddered beneath his crying. “I felt every ward drain to the marrow.”

From a groggy distance she realized her hand was pulsing with hurt. She forced it off her chest and pried each of the stiff fingers open. Clenched there in her fist: Tsona-Vos’s charm, shattered into six blood-slick pieces, where the last of Ancano’s spell had found its mark.

[paktderpakte]

IJN Musashi at anchor outside Hong Kong. The landmass visible in the background is the Dapeng Peninsula. Note the forward trim of the patrol boat near her funnel. This was the vessel that carried an envoy from Hong Kong Governor Mark Young, supposedly to negotiate evacuations.

Japanese sailors later reported that British emissaries explained their boat's trim by saying it had a leaky hull prone to taking on water. In fact, it was loaded with several tons of high explosive. Shortly after Musashi engaged her cranes to take the enemy boat on board, it exploded, damaging her upper decks, destroying the long-range comms antenna and several anti-aircraft guns, and causing the turret at her stern to list to one side. The damage looked more serious than it really was, and initial observers reported that the armored portions of the hull had been damaged, as well as the primary superstructure. In fact, the flagship remained seaworthy and capable of combat— though in an extended engagement such as the British Exile leadership had planned, the damage to her main guns and AA complement would no doubt have left her vulnerable to further attack.

Some historians speculate that the bombs were supposed to explode at the waterline, which, judging by the damage that was done to the battleship's more lightly armored upper decks, could have inflicted a wound necessitating immediate repair and possibly even one that would sink the ship. Alternately, penetrating the stern turret's magazine and causing a secondary explosion could have broken the ship in half.

Besides the pilot and purported British negotiator, both of whom were killed by the blast, seven Japanese sailors died instantly and twenty-six were seriously injured. Of those 26, one was the ship's captain and commander of the overall blockade fleet, Admiral Mineichi Koga, who had left the bridge to meet the negotiators. His injury, and the reluctance of Vice Admiral Shigeru Fukudome to order a retaliatory bombardment, kept the fleet immobilized for over an hour before Admiral Koga's passing.

— Extract from The Imperial Japanese Navy, 1918-1948, by E. Herbert Norman

Original images

[airi-of-hearts]

✨🪐💫 A Field of Stars ✨🪐💫

A story set in a galaxy far, far away…well, many of them. Written for the aib server prompt: Sci-Fi AU

The view from her penthouse in Imperial City was breathtaking. Airi had lived there for a few years and she was still overwhelmed by the vastness of it. Coruscant, the Jewel of the Core Worlds; trillions of citizens, human and alien alike. The city-planet had become the hub of galactic culture, education, finance, fine arts, politics and technology.

But Airi hadn’t moved there to flaunt wealth or mingle with high society, her reason was more pragmatic: Coruscant was home to the Senate Building, if she took her Diplomat career seriously, this is where she had to be. She wouldn’t be heard anywhere else.

So far, it hasn’t been exactly easy to earn her spot. Well-established–and frankly, old–Senators are always ready to tell her she’s too young, too inexperienced, her ideas too harsh, too radical, too alienating.

Kovacs had warned her this would happen. Takeshi Kovacs, a former Protectorate Envoy turned bounty hunter, the man she once believed would be the love of her life. Even then, he had been just another man telling her what she couldn’t do.

Well, fuck him. Fuck them all.

Airi paced from the living space to her bedroom and back again, reciting her next speech under her breath. She would speak at the Senate the next day and there was no room for error.

She raised her voice when he reached her main idea. ‘Just because the elites have made Neon City into their playground where anything goes, that doesn’t mean illegal activities should be tolerated. Crimes related to the drug known as Aurora don’t affect these rich tourists as much as they affect the lives and livelihoods of the most vulnerable sections of the population, and this has to stop.’ She would have to modulate her voice some more, she was almost yelling by the end of it.

People–other diplomats, even Senators–usually asked her why she cared that much about a random city many galaxies away. Well, she would tell them, for one thing she was not going to stand for injustice anywhere. And for another, that was her hometown.

The pleasure city of Neon was a tourist trap that catered to the extravagant tastes of those who could afford all that the city had to offer. And for the locals? Not a lot of options outside fishing for Chasmbass, the source for the hallucinogenic drug Aurora.

Airi might still live there, working for Xenofresh Fisheries if she was lucky, if it hadn’t been for her parents. Her mother wanted her to have a real education, so she’d sent Airi off-world under the care of the Protectorate to study.

It wasn’t as if her life in Neon was too bad, Airi’s father worked for a ship manufacturing company and slowly but steadily managed to rise through their ranks. Meanwhile, as a young girl, Airi spent her days roaming the mean streets of Neon, befriending (or bothering) the hardworking denizens at Ikuchi market, mapping the Ebbside, even venturing into the Underbelly on occasion… and picking up useful skills on the way; she still had a knack for picking locks and hacking into terminals.

A soft beep made her turn around, bringing her back from her memories.

BB-8, the astromech droid that had adopted her (Airi was convinced of this, she hadn’t chosen the little round droid, he had chosen her), had stopped rolling around after her when he realized the pacing would take hours, but he still seemed to be complaining.

‘I know, I know. I won’t be too harsh tomorrow. Well, I will try,’ Airi said, patting the robot.

She hoped she could keep her promise. Her outspokenness had attracted attention from the moment she started speaking up. It earned her many supporters, but many enemies as well. Important ones, the kind who could hire someone to kill her, they had already tried. Why? Well, rich people don’t like it when their source of income is threatened. But as Airi saw it, getting that reaction meant she was going the right way.

Besides, the United Colonies backed her up. They had even sent some of their best Vanguard members to protect her. Which reminded her…

‘Cheer up, BB. We’ll go on a little adventure soon enough.’

After the Senate session, Airi would travel to Neon. She knew some Senators would demand tangible proof of the illegal activities that Airi was denouncing, they wouldn’t ask her to go to Neon City outright but they would heavily imply it, so she had beaten them to the punch, by making travel arrangements. They surely hoped she would suffer some terrible accident over there, but Airi had already contacted the UC.

‘You will meet a member of the Vanguard there,’ the UC contact told her. They hadn’t said who it was. She hoped it was Andrómeda.

Incoming message, the androgynous voice of her penthouse’s AI announced. Airi let the first few words play over the speakers before deleting it. An invitation to a fancy dinner. A date.

She had much to do and… Who had time for love anyway?

[endlessthoughtsofafangirl]

The Young Imperial Envoy | 少年大钦差 Jin Dong as Xu An

[hanselw]

The Little Mermaid (Nonsense Ver)

--A mermaid story starred by a group of completely unrelated guys and has nothing to do with mermaid.

King Bach of the sea had over twenty children, they infought every day, which was very frustrating. But one of them was very special, he had golden hair and blue eyes, and he was also very handsome. He was called Alexander the Great-Princess.

The eldest prince of the Grieg Kingdom, Napoleon, had reached adulthood and was about to take over the power from his father. At this time, he fell in love with Princess Alexander of the Sea.

Prince Napoleon was very outstanding in his early years, which can be said to be impeccable. The only drawback was that his tongue was too sharp, as he made countless enemies by speaking rashly, including Prince Paganini. This incident left a great psychological shadow on the latter, and he became the political enemy of Prince Napoleon. He held out an olive branch to Sir Newton, the dean of the Academy of Sciences. This elite scientist is crazy and extremely ambitious, intent on waiting for the prince to step down and reform the science and technology of the entire kingdom. For him, this is undoubtedly a good opportunity.

In the months leading up to the coronation ceremony, Prince Napoleon was often found to be somewhat absentminded, often staring out of the window at the sea. Later, it was discovered that he had a secret love affair with the Mermaid Princess Alexander. Paganini and Newton believed that they had grasped Napoleon's grip and Newton declared that the mermaid only existed in fairy tales. The prince must have developed hysteria and must not be allowed to rule. Under the superficial remarks, there was another purpose, that Newton wanted to retrieve this mermaid for experimentation.

Sr. Beethoven, the chief executive of the kingdom, was once the most loyal right arm of Prince Napoleon, and he was initially very disappointed when he learned about this matter.

Prince Napoleon was besieged on all sides. He got drunk and ran to the seaside to commit suicide by jumping into the sea, but was rescued by Mermaid Princess Alexander. Princess Alexander was very worried about the mental state of Prince Napoleon and took the initiative to propose to Witch Roxana of the sea that he wanted to transform into a human form to save the prince. Roxana took out a bottle of potion and claimed that drinking it would give him human legs, but she didn't finish the next sentence. So, without knowing it, Princess Alexander gained the human leg and lost his voice forever. However, he resolutely attended Napoleon's coronation ceremony.

Sr. Beethoven heard that someone was about to ruin the coronation ceremony of Prince Napoleon, and suddenly felt a sense of compassion, feeling that the prince was too young and pitiful. After continuous reflection, he still plans to secretly help the prince.The imperial envoy of the kingdom, Pushkin, had a dispute with Sr. Beethoven due to spreading the rumors of the Chief Executive's former mentor mistakenly. However, in this situation, they planned to put aside their previous grievances and help Prince Napoleon together.

Sr. Beethoven wrote a symphony dedicated to Prince Napoleon at the coronation ceremony. Napoleon was overjoyed and all his attention was focused on the symphony, without noticing that the humanoid Alexander was already present. Everyone believes that it is because Beethoven's symphonies are magical and cure the prince's hysteria.

Newton recognized Alexander next to him at a glance and caught him.

But when the coronation ceremony ended, Prince Napoleon suddenly fainted and hit the corner of the table, losing his memory. When he woke up again, he looked at Beethoven in front of him. After staring at each other for a long time, speechless and choked, he only squeezed out a sentence: "Who are you?"

It is said that an ancient cave records a solution to amnesia. Beethoven went with Pushkin to the other side of the mountain and the sea to search, and he returned alone--his poor companion died in battle with the giant Abe who was guarding the cave.

Sr. Beethoven used his memory to copy the words engraved on the cave overnight, preparing to dedicate them to King Grieg the next day, but was assassinated by Sir Newton. Upon learning this, Prince Paganini became furious and broke up with Sir Newton because he had always been an admirer of the Chief Executive, Sr. Beethoven!

Sir Newton has always been a cold-blooded species. The next day, he exhibited Princess Alexander, who had already turned into a mermaid in the solution, in the kingdom. He said that it was this thing that caused the prince to be disinterested in politics. He never expected that this kind of demon would actually exist, and now he has eliminated the harm for the people himself. Prince Napoleon looked at all this with great sadness.

Later, Prince Napoleon married Princess Josephine of a neighboring country, and their wedding featured a symphony dedicated by Beethoven, who had sacrificed himself for the prince. Prince Paganini did not appear, but went to visit Sr. Beethoven's grave. Sir Newton was exiled by the king due to his significant adverse impact on the mental health of Prince Napoleon.

[ask-a-w]

Ebony & Gold

For Aeon Week Day 6 - Historical

Summary: A blonde lord gets off on the wrong foot with a raven-haired princess and they try to make amends. A Victorian AU Aeon short story. (Their characterizations will definitely be different so go in with an open mind.)

AO3

FF.net

----------

In the earlier years of the Victorian era, a youthful prince from a far away land in the East was curious about life in the West. He learned about their mannerisms, with some disapproval from his older brothers. But being the youngest son, the Emperor doted on him and allowed the boy to pursue whatever he fancied.

With blessings from his father, he travelled to England as a diplomatic envoy, hoping to improve trade relations between the East and West. The prince charmed everyone he met there with his grace and slightly eccentric ways.

Soon enough, he caught the eye of many young women that were hoping to marry into a royal family regardless of the fact that he belonged to the Chinese imperial house. Like many couples of that time, the prince was matchmade with a lovely lass who was the daughter of a Duke.

However, things changed during the ball he and the lady were supposed to meet. They both managed to find partners of their own. The young prince met a daughter of a widowed Countess. She was the same age as him and both fell in love with each other. He and his loved one were married within the year they met and their union produced two sons and a daughter whom they cherished with all of their hearts. It was a rare thing to marry one’s true love during that time period and the prince unknowingly set a trend in his social circle for doing that.

Biennially, the family would alternate living either in England or China as ambassadors. Thus, their children grew up with knowledge from both Worlds and it was quite advantageous for them.

Having taken on an English name, Prince Gregory, Duke of the Orient, returned with Princess Wilhemina, Duchess of the Orient to her homeland as scheduled. Their youngest daughter, Princess Ada, now nineteen years of age, was the only child to accompany them on their adventures.

Her brothers were already married, having carved out their own very successful lives away from the family. They were lucky to have found soulmates they wanted to spend their lives with and wished their baby sister all the best with regards to matters of the heart.

As soon as word hit the streets that The Orients had returned, they were swamped with invites to balls and various engagements. Ada now stood in her bedroom as an attendant dolled her up.

Grace, her faithful lady-in-waiting about a decade older than her had been with Ada since she was a young girl, looked on worriedly. “Are you most certain, my lady?” She was concerned about a certain event from three years ago that affected her precious princess.

“I will be alright, Grace. My friends would love to meet me in person after corresponding with letters for the past two years.” Ada replied confidently as her hair was twirled elegantly on the back of her neck.

Grace nodded and gestured to another maid to serve up the tea. “You should eat something before you leave, my lady. I know you rarely do so when you attend balls. It is not good for your health.”

Ada stopped the attendant from sliding her gloves on and thanked the lady for dressing her up before dismissing the rest of the servants from the room. 

“It is difficult to partake in food with a corset. The tea and scones will have to suffice till then. Thank you again, Grace. You are ever so thoughtful.”

The princess sat down and helped herself to the food platter. Her parents would take a little while longer to be ready and she would just have to wait for the bell to chime. “You should eat as well, Grace. After all, you will be accompanying me as my lady-in-waiting.”

Under normal circumstances, Grace would decline but this was Ada they were talking about. She and her brothers were raised with both regality and modesty for others around her. They treated their servants as equals. Though others outside of the Orient household thought that the princess was an aloof and icy royal.

“You know I will not take no for an answer, Grace. Please, sit down and rest before the night’s events call upon us.” Ada implored and the older woman obliged, sitting down on the chair beside the raven haired princess and enjoying their snacks.

A few moments later, the bell rang and it was time for them to leave. Grace sat with Ada and her parents in one carriage while the other attendants sat in the other. Gregory and Wilhemina were both pleasant to be with despite their lofty titles.

“Ada dear, you look as beautiful as ever.” Her mother spoke and Ada gave a smile, “I have you and papa to thank for that.” The teenager teased and her parents chuckled, making light-hearted banter all the way to their destination.

----------

In the rolling hills of the countryside there was the mansion of the Earl of Adlitam. They were a noble family mostly invested in business, and had accumulated a great amount of wealth as well as a good reputation. Earl Matthias Kennedy had three children, two sons and an eldest daughter. The middle child, Leon, was currently in his office being lectured by his father.

“You need to take these things more seriously,” The Earl said as he paced back and forth while Leon read a newspaper. “You’re going to inherit this family’s legacy, and I don’t want our ancestors’ hard work to all be in vain because you were too busy showing interest in every young lady you meet. Remember that in this world, personal and professional matters often affect each other.”

“I don’t show interest in everyone, just the ones who are beautiful.” Leon replied, still more invested in the paper than his father’s lecture. “You want me to have my own family, don’t you?” Leon smirked slightly and Matthias gave an exasperated sigh, running his fingers through his greying hair.

“Leon, you have amazing business skills, but don’t be overconfident. This ball is for building good relations, but not those kinds.” The Earl said sternly and snatched the newspaper away from Leon. “Show these people that you are a respectable man and not just interested in their daughters. Limit it to one dance per lady. Now let’s get ready, I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”

Leon scoffed and stood up to follow his father. He had been to so many balls already it was completely routine to him at this point. Everyone already wanted to have good relations with the Kennedys that it seemed redundant to pander to anyone. Leon might as well make the most of them.

The blonde had his servants helping him get dressed for the ball. He put on his nicest suit with coat tails, bow tie, white gloves, and his best cufflinks. The servants made sure his shoes were shiny and his hair was neatly styled.

Once the preening was complete, Leon went to the hallway to meet with the rest of the family. His father, mother, and older sister Diana were soon ready to leave as well, while his little brother James stood pouting.

“I wish you would let me go to the ball,” James said. His mother patted his shoulder and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

“When you’re of age. Now be good while we’re gone. Let’s not be late now,” the Countess of Adlitam beckoned the rest of her family to exit the mansion. Leon gave his brother a wave goodbye and a smile as they went out the door and climbed into the awaiting carriage to take them to the ball.

----------

Before they knew it, the Orients arrived at the mansion and they disembarked from their carriage, heading off into the house. After they handed over their coats and hats to the servants, her parents handed out the invitation cards to the doorman where he called out their names to announce their presence.

“Their Royal Highnesses, The Duke and Duchess of the Orient! Her Royal Highness, The Princess of the Orient!”

All eyes turned to them and Ada trailed after Gregory and Wilhemina who were met with old friends and acquaintances. The usual greetings and compliments of her growing more beautiful every two years were exchanged. All these pleasantries bored the princess and when her father finally addressed her to go enjoy herself, Ada curtsied to him and left to find her trio of friends.

She found them clinging to men on their arms and they greeted her fondly. “Princess Ada, it is good to see you again!” The ‘leader’ of the clique, Eleanor, spoke and the princess replied, “Likewise.”

Ada then turned towards the men with a curious look on her face. “All of us got married last year,” Eleanor explained and each lady introduced her spouse to the princess, making the royal slightly jealous.

“Is this the surprise you were talking about in your letter? Congratulations.” Her voice was tinged with a slight edge. Weren’t they the ones who promised that they would swore off men after her failed engagement a few years ago? They clearly broke it.

“I will see you later. Please, excuse me.” The princess turned on her heel and walked away, out of the ballroom into the balcony for some air. Grace was beside her in an instant.

“They were so crass, Your Highness. Some friends they are.” The older woman implored and Ada could only sigh, “I doubt they were truly my friends to begin with, Grace.”

A few minutes later, the Kennedys arrived and they entered the mansion, giving the servants their coats and hats as usual, and handed their invitations to the doorman.

“The Earl and Countess of Adlitam! Lord Kennedy! Lady Kennedy!”

The Kennedy family stuck together for a little while before Leon decided to go his separate way, but not before his father whispered a few words into his ears. “Remember what I said. We’re here for business, not just pleasure.” Leon gave his father a nod and a smile before he turned away. He began to prowl the ballroom for any young, single ladies whom he had not had the pleasure of meeting yet.

There were plenty of available women, some he had been acquainted with, and there were a few new faces. Leon danced with some of the prettier ones to get to know them a little better, but there were none here tonight that seemed to truly catch his interest.

Meanwhile, Ada spent the rest of her time outside, enjoying the beauty of the night sky. A few people lingered here and there in the shadows of the balcony, trying to sneak an intimate moment or two, away from prying eyes. The princess casually ignored the public displays of affection.

Grace was rubbing her arms and Ada spoke with concern. “Are you cold? You should go inside and have a drink to warm yourself up.” Her lady-in-waiting nodded but frowned a bit at the suggestion of leaving her charge alone.

It was a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Ada’s keen eye. “I am capable of taking care of myself, Grace. You have seen me do it before.”

The older woman let out a small sigh, “I will be back soon, my lady.” She gave Ada a look of worry before reluctantly turning away to find refreshments for them both.

After several dances, Leon grew a bit bored and felt he needed some fresh air. The young lord did not want to return to his family just yet, and unfortunately not many of his friends were here, or they were busy with their own dances. He went outside for some quiet time and to look up at the night sky. 

Leon only saw a few people milling about on the balcony, which was just how he liked it. He did notice a young Asian woman in a scarlet gown and assumed she was the help of one of the guests, or a lady-in-waiting perhaps.

Inside the ballroom, Matthias learned that the Duke and Duchess of the Orient were here with their princess, and he prayed Leon would behave well around her. He was always at least polite around women. He knew better, right?

----------

The princess had a minute to herself before she heard footsteps behind her. Ada turned to tease her lady-in-waiting for returning so soon but did not say anything when she caught sight of a blonde man instead.

He was dressed like the rest of the males. Black suit with coat tails, white bow tie, and slicked hair. Sometimes she wished women could have simple outfits like that which could be worn repeatedly. Having to purchase new outfits for each season was bothersome. 

She kept her thoughts to herself and looked away, not in the least bit interested by the blonde’s presence at all.

Leon was feeling a bit stuffy in his formal clothing and with so few people around, he thought it would be alright if he loosened his sleeves to cool off a bit. He undid the cuffs, but was not quite careful enough, and accidentally dropped a cufflink on the floor. It rolled over towards the Asian woman, and the blonde let out a small sigh.

“Excuse me, you there?” He called out to her. “Could you be a dear and pick that up for me?”

His words caught the attention of the others on the balcony and they had to hold back their laughter. Did Lord Kennedy just address a royal princess so casually?

Ada heard a metallic ding against the floor and she frowned at his command. She turned to face the blonde and spoke coolly, “I beg your pardon?” Couldn’t he see that she was dressed regally in red and purple? “I believe your eyes might be deceiving you. I am not a butler.”

“Ah, I’m sorry,” Leon said, beginning to feel slightly suspicious. “No, you don’t look like a butler. I don’t believe I’ve met you before. Are you a guest here?” He asked with a charming smile, still oblivious. He decided to simply walk over to her and pick up his cufflink himself.

Ada gripped the fan in her hand a little tighter, weary about his forwardness with her. Royal protocol prohibited men from approaching her without the presence of her lady-in-waiting. Was this man that clueless about her identity? She also recognized the look of want on his face. The blonde found her attractive but she was not going to give him that satisfaction tonight.

As Leon neared the young lady, he could hear the faint whisperings of other guests and began to have a bad feeling. Upon closer inspection of the Asian woman he had to admit that she was quite fair, with beautiful brown eyes that right now seemed to be glaring daggers at him. Leon wondered for a moment about courting her, but pushed the thought aside. A gut feeling told him to restrain himself in this instance.

“I don’t usually see your kind around here.”

The princess’ eyes narrowed into slits at the last comment. Grace and her family had mentioned that whenever she was angry, her gaze always appeared to be piercing through a person’s soul. Leon was rooted to the spot. It was almost as if she was Medusa exerting her power over him. 

“My family was invited and my mother is English.” The princess replied venomously and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grace hurrying to her.

"Your Royal Highness, the Duke and Duchess are expecting you.” The older woman then noticed Leon standing in front of Ada and she immediately bowed to the princess. “My apologies for interrupting your conversation, ma’am.”

Ada shook her head. “No, we were done with our conversation.” She boldly took a step towards the blonde and whispered acidly. “Good night, peasant.”

Grace kept her surprise to herself and followed her lady back into the ballroom.

She left Leon standing there dumbfounded and speechless. That young woman was a Princess? How was he supposed to know that? He then chided himself when he recalled all the purple embroidery that was on her dress. That should have tipped him off that she was not a servant.

Leon headed back inside to look for his family and the young lord was suddenly keenly aware of all the staring and whispering around him. A wave of humiliation surged through his body. He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see his father’s furious face, as red from anger as Leon’s was from embarrassment.

“What were you thinking?” The Earl of Adlitam hissed. “How could you speak to a royal princess like that?”

“I did not know she was royalty.” Leon whispered back. “I suppose she got here before we did. No one bothered to tell me there was a Princess of the Orient here.”

“You could have at least been more polite. This is what I was talking about.” Matthias glanced left and right. “You’ve not only embarrassed yourself, but also me and our family. I don’t want you leaving my side for the rest of the ball.” The two men went off to find the Countess and Lady Kennedy, and did their best to ignore the swarm of gossip in the air.

However, the damage was done and Leon and his father were both in terrible moods for the remainder of the night, though they did well to mask it when speaking to the other guests. His mother and sister heard what happened, but did not say anything, and no one else brought it up in front of them out of politeness, even if they had no trouble bringing it up behind their backs.

In another part of the ballroom, the princess finally made it back safely in her own little social circle. “Ada dear, we would like to introduce you to a family friend.” Wilhemina spoke upon seeing her daughter. The raven haired teen did her best to wear a mask of nonchalance but deep down, she was still rather ruffled by the encounter.

The greying man in front of the princess extended a hand. “I am Phillip, your mother’s tutor. I met you when you were a baby. My, how big you have grown.” 

Ada raised her gloved hand and the man kissed the back of the fabric politely. She dropped her hand down and continued to politely participate in the conversation. The princess did notice that every now and then, prying eyes would turn and focus on her. Ada coolly ignored them and stood her ground.

The ball passed… ever so slowly but Ada still stayed with her parents, refusing to move her feet at all. They would understand why she wouldn’t want to dance with a man.

Finally, it was time for them to leave and as usual, their status allowed them to depart first. Ada heaved a sigh in the carriage and her mother looked over to her. “What is the matter, darling?”

The princess feigned exhaustion and leaned her head back into the seat. “I am fatigued by all the excitement, mama. It has been two years since my last ball. Grandpa’s palace is relaxing and tranquil with the occasional fanfare.”

Gregory nodded. The East and West threw their parties differently and there wasn’t a mad race to be seen at events everywhere in China. “Then rest immediately when we get home, my dear.”

----------

The blonde lord did his best to go through the motions of the ball, though he did not want to dance with anyone anymore, and none of the young ladies seemed to want to anyway. Leon contented himself with drinking until it was finally time to leave.

The Kennedys all quietly put their coats back on and went to their awaiting carriage. They sat down and wordlessly rode back to their mansion. Leon knew his father would give him an earful once they got home though.

“How could you make such a fool of yourself?!” The Earl admonished his son once they were in his office while the rest of the family was getting ready for bed. Leon avoided eye contact and sighed.

“It was an honest mistake,” Leon retorted defensively, crossing his arms. “If she had been of a lower status there would not be such a fuss.”

“Well she wasn’t, was she?” Matthias asked, one eye twitching just a tad. “And it doesn’t matter what your intentions were, all anyone cares about is you made a fool of yourself in front of royalty. The Kennedys will be the laughing stock for months because of this.” He grumbled and rubbed his temples as the stress got to him.

“And not to mention that you’ve earned the ire of Princess Ada, and likely the Duke and Duchess of the Orient. They could have been good allies to have…” 

Leon quirked an eyebrow, “So her name is Ada?” They did not have the pleasantries to exchange names. Leon doubted she would want to know his after this.

His father turned to glower at him for his remark. Leon glared back in return, “If you think I want to court her, you’re gravely mistaken. She wasn’t exactly made of honey when we spoke, more like venom. I’ll be happy if that’s the last time I ever see her.”

“It does not matter, you are confined to this house until I see fit to allow you to leave,” The Earl replied. “Now go to bed. I expect you back to work in the morning.” 

Leon sighed and left the office, feeling much less happy tonight than he thought he would be.

----------

“He asked me to pick up his cufflink! What sort of gentleman does that? He also had the cheek to say that he doesn’t see Asians around and assumed that I was some sort of servant.”

Ada vented to Grace when they were both in her bedroom. The older woman was brushing the princess’ hair to get rid of any knots before she went to bed. “Sounds like an uncouth lout, my lady.”

While a maid would typically be helping the princess get ready for bed, Ada preferred to have Grace by her side. She could express her frustrations to her friend to her heart’s content. 

The royal handed a night cap to Grace and all her raven hair was gathered and placed into the cap before Grace slipped it on her head. “I was not wearing rags, Grace. Could he not see my dress??”

Grace patted Ada’s shoulder and guided her to the bed. “He must have been blind, then. Get some sleep, Your Highness. It is not worth it to be angry over a pompous fool.”

Princess Ada sighed and slipped under the covers. “I know… I guess my head will be cleared of that mess in the morning. Good night, Grace." Her lady-in-waiting then drew the curtains shut and extinguished the lamps.

"Good night, ma’am.” The older blonde woman called out at the door and shut it close behind her.

----------

The days passed and Leon grew ever more restless as he was stuck doing work with no time to spend with any of his friends. The best he could do was take a stroll through the garden. On the other hand, Ada’s time was spent with tea parties, dances, musicals, and any engagement under the Sun fit for a royal. 

A month after Leon’s debacle, the Earl knew he had to repair the damage his son had done. After consulting with a family friend, Phillip, the retired tutor decided to host a garden party where other families, along with the Kennedys and the Orients, would be in attendance. It was all carefully planned by Matthias and Phillip, to have both parties meet on neutral ground and mend their strained relations.

Phillip had tutored Leon as a boy, and who just so coincidentally tutored Ada’s mother. With everything proceeding as arranged, the invitations were sent. It was not a formal ball, but Matthias demanded that Leon be even more polite than ever, lest he be confined to the household for the rest of the year.

Unbeknownst to the young blonde, the Orients were invited as well. Leon would have had second thoughts about going if he knew that piece of information.

For the Orients, they received the garden party invitation from Wilhemina’s tutor roughly a month after the Kennedy incident. Needless to say, they gladly accepted the invite. Phillip was a treasured family friend, after all.

When the day of the garden party came, the princess chose a lightweight yet elegant viridian coloured day dress that went along with her parasol. She also wore boots as the grass could sometimes be uneven and slippery.

With Grace close to her, she mingled with the guests and indulged in some food as well. Her parents were off conversing with Phillip, without a clue on what the tutor had planned with the Earl of Adlitam.

When the Earl saw Philip with the Orients, he enacted the plan and made his approach. 

“It’s good to see you, Earl Matthias,” Phillip called out to him and they shook hands. “Matthias, this is Duke Gregory and Duchess Wilhemina of the Orient.”

Matthias smiled and gave them a bow of respect. “It is an honour to meet Your Royal Highnesses. Let me apologize once more for my son’s behaviour.”

If Gregory and Wilhemina were surprised to see the Earl of Adlitam, they hid it really well and instead, gave him a nod to acknowledge his presence. They had heard from Grace on what had happened to Ada on the balcony that night. Needless to say, they were not pleased with the young man’s disrespect.

Matthias looked behind him to see Leon conversing with guests normally. Luckily no one was gossiping quite as much about the incident anymore. “I trust Princess Ada is here as well?”

“Of course. We wouldn’t be able to do this without her, right?” Phillip said with a smile. “Go ahead and call your son over, Earl Kennedy.” 

Matthias nodded and turned around to wave at his son. “Leon, come here and say hello to Phillip. You two should catch up.”

The Duchess gazed at her tutor when he mentioned her little girl and Leon. “What are you planning to do, Phillip? Why must our daughter be involved with an uncouth man?” Her blue eyes were full of worry and the Duke put an arm around his wife’s shoulder, glaring at the tutor and demanding an answer. 

Phillip didn’t reply to them straight away. Instead, he waited for the young blonde to come over to make his greeting.

Leon heard his father and made his way over like he was asked. He found the party rather dull while he was being kept on a tight leash. At least Phillip might be nice to talk to. “Phillip, how are you?” Leon asked as he beamed at his old tutor. 

He then took notice of the Duke and Duchess, and immediately felt a pit form in his stomach. The blonde would not be oblivious a second time.

“Leon, this is Their Royal Highnesses, Duke Gregory and Duchess Wilhemina. Of the Orient.” Matthias said to his son. Leon forced himself to keep smiling at the royals and gave them a polite bow. “It is an honour.”

The Orients nodded at him stiffly and they could feel the temperature of the air around them dropping a notch or two.

Phillip then cleared his throat, “Matthias had this idea to help improve Leon’s image by allowing everyone here to have a glance of him and Princess Ada at least walking together. This is a very unforgiving society and Matt here is a very good friend of mine. I do not wish to see his family come to ruin.”

Wilhemina was about to interject that her precious girl will not be used to improve someone’s public image but Phillip continued to speak, “Of course, it would be most optimal if Leon apologized to her highness and they can both start off on the right foot. You did teach your children about forgiveness, Wilhemina. Leon made an honest mistake.”

It all made sense to Leon now. This was all part of an elaborate plan by his father and his tutor. His father gave him a slight nudge in the back, prompting Leon to bow deeply to the Duke and Duchess.

"I apologize for my ignorance and my impoliteness." The lord said, hoping that this would convince the Orients. He still did not think they had to go this far, but Leon also wanted to get this over with. “Please forgive me. It was wrong for me to treat your daughter that way.”

What Leon dreaded though was seeing Princess Ada once again, and he knew that it would be much tougher to earn her forgiveness. At least his father seemed pleased with his behaviour, smiling proudly at Leon for apologizing.

The Orients still weren’t entirely moved by his apology so Gregory decided to impart some wisdom. “You should not treat anyone in a rude manner, my boy. All of us deserve respect. Depending on where you are, you will not always be part of the majority race.”

Phillip nodded in agreement, “We bleed the same colour, Leon. Remember that.”

It truly was embarrassing for Leon as he did his best to smile and nod at the advice given to him. “Yes, you are right, of course everyone deserves respect. I will do my best to remember that in the future.”

The lord may or may not have actually heed these words, but for now he was simply acting how he thought they wanted him to. He would need to put on his best performance if he was to earn the royal princess’ forgiveness though. “Please, I really would like to apologize to Princess Ada myself. The guilt has been eating me up ever since that night. I’m glad you’ve given me a second chance.”

Wilhemina could see Leon was growing red with embarrassment and she looked to her husband. “Dear, I believe he knows he did wrong. Why don’t we call Ada over now? She is the one he is supposed to apologize to.

Acting was a skill that was needed to survive in this Victorian life. Whether they doubted Leon’s sincerity or not, the royals still had to give face and treat him politely.

Gregory nodded to his wife. “Phillip, please send someone to call for my dear daughter.” The tutor then gave them a bow and walked a short distance away to speak to a servant, leaving the Orients alone with the Kennedys.

To prevent awkward silence, Wilhemina participated in a little small talk. “How is your business going, Earl Matthias?”

Elsewhere, Princess Ada strolled with Grace through Phillip’s rose garden and admired the flowers that were in bloom. “Imagine all the rose jam you can make with this, Grace.” The princess spoke and her stomach rumbled slightly.

“Many cartons, my lady. Phillip already gifts your family rose jam throughout the year and you are still hungry?” Grace teased and Ada chuckled.

A maid approached them and bowed. “Your Royal Highness, the Duke and Duchess of the Orient request your presence. Please, follow me.”

Leon nervously waited while the servants fetched Princess Ada, and listened as the adults engaged in minor chit chat to pass the  time. He swore that when he was in charge, he would leave this sort of socializing to someone else, while he could do the real business alone. These politics were so tedious.

“Please, tell me, is there anything about Princess Ada I should know about?” Leon made sure to ask before she arrived. “I just want to make sure I don’t make any transgressions. Better safe than sorry.”

“She detests men who are rude to her and Grace, her lady-in-waiting.” Gregory replied simply as he recalled the times where Ada put a man in his place and he was proud of her for that.

“Her Royal Highness, Princess Ada of the Orient!” A voice announced her arrival and the raven haired teenager closed her parasol and walked up to her parents. She stopped beside the couple before realizing the rude blonde man from that night was in close proximity to them.

Ada’s eyes narrowed slightly and she turned to her folks. “Mother, father, are you acquainted with this man?”

Wilhemina began to explain that they knew what happened on that fateful night at the ball and how Phillip came up with the idea for Lord Kennedy to apologize.

“He belittled me due to the colour of my skin, mother. That is not something that can be easily forgiven and forgotten.”

The Duchess became a little stern, “Everyone looks up to us and we must set good examples for them, Ada. A little kindness goes a long way.”

That is the way it is when you’re born into the royal family. I did not raise you to be stubborn.

Wilhemina could only think of those thoughts to herself but she hoped her daughter got the hint. Ada relented and turned to the blonde. “I am willing to hear you out, Lord Kennedy.”

“I did not mean to belittle you, really,” Leon began, being actually sincere about that. He was not perfect, but he certainly did not enjoy being thought of as some kind of a bigot. “I had no idea that the Duke, Duchess, and Princess of the Orient had come to the ball that night. Had I known I would have been much more aware.”

The blonde was not quite sure how much of him was acting and how much really was being honest. Perhaps both. Leon might have told himself he did not care about what these people thought of him, but deep down he had the feeling he wanted people to like him. He looked the royal in the eye as he proclaimed, “I was rude out of ignorance. I am completely willing to admit to that, but it was far from being malicious, especially in regards to your ethnicity, Princess Ada.”

Matthias nodded in approval at his son’s performance. He did not care if he was sincere or not, so long as he gained the royals’ favour. 

Phillip was a bit more of an optimist and believed there was something real there. “Ada, do you think you’d be willing to forgive Lord Kennedy?”

Ada listened to Leon with a calm expression on her face. Frankly, she just wanted to tune him out but there was something in his eyes when he apologized. It intrigued her. 

The princess turned to the retired tutor and regarded his question with a bit of thought. “I accept his apology.” She finally replied without any mention that she would forgive Leon.

That satisfied her parents and Gregory spoke up. “Good. I suggest the two of you take a walk along the grounds so everyone can see that you have made peace.” The Duke turned his gaze towards the older Kennedy. “I trust that would be sufficient, Matthias?”

Ada bit the inside of her cheek at her father’s suggestion. A walk with that lout? As long as she didn’t have to hook her elbows through his, she would maintain a respectable distance from the young lord.

For a very brief moment, Leon felt overjoyed that she accepted the apology. Now all of this could finally be put behind them. 

And then they asked them to walk together. He wished the ground would just swallow him whole. 

“Yes, of course it would be,” Matthias answered the Duke before his son could get a word in. “Leon would love to, wouldn’t you?” The Earl nudged him in the ribs discreetly and Leon nodded, getting the hint.

"It would be an honour." The blonde replied, doing his best to hide his ever growing annoyance at the entire situation. Just one short walk, then it would be all over.

“As it would be mine.” Ada replied and gave a bow to her parents before walking up to the blonde with her lady-in-waiting following behind her as a chaperone. “Shall we?” She made no indication to let go of her parasol and they walked out of the private pavilion side by side but at a respectable distance from each other.

When they were far away from the adults, the princess couldn’t help but whisper to him. “If you step out of line again, peasant, there will be consequences.”

She saw a hint of the other guests out of the corner of her eye and she put on a serene smile on her face. The crowd did a double take and almost stopped talking when they saw the Princess of the Orient and Lord Kennedy strolling beside each other along the sheltered pathway leading to the rose garden.

“Pretend to make some conversation, peasant. The sky is blue and the roses bloom red.”

"My name is Leon, your royal highness, not ‘peasant’.” The blonde whispered back to her. He was finding it increasingly difficult to keep his cool. At least he knew now that she was as insincere about accepting his apology as he was in giving it.

Leon did manage to force a small smile on his face while they walked together, though if one looked closely enough they would see the slight twitch of his eyelid. “Perfect weather for a garden party, isn’t it?” He asked, keeping up with their act. 

"Mmm hmm…” Ada muttered to herself when he irritably told her about his name. She continued to calmly smile back at Leon. “Indeed it is. Though you should relax the crease on your forehead on this beautiful day, it ruins your handsome face.”

Leon was momentarily stumped when the princess called him handsome but figured she meant it sarcastically. His mood turned dour once again. 

They strolled to the end of the walkway and that was enough to get the guests talking excitedly on how the Princess of the Orient and Lord Kennedy have set aside their differences.

The path led into Phillip’s rose garden once more. “Let us wait for a while before we walk back. Leaving too soon sets their tongues wagging again.”

Just then, a white furry creature popped out from the bushes and it let out a meow. “Ah, Phillip’s cat, Opal.” The beautiful white fluffy British longhair feline trotted up to them and rubbed her skirt, much to her delight.

“I don’t have food for you, silly Opal.”

The white kitty looked up and gave Ada an oblivious little meow before moving onto Leon, rubbing his legs and purring loudly. The lord’s features immediately softened into a genuine smile, and he knelt down to stroke her fur. Appearances be damned. 

"Hello there little Opal," The blonde cooed sweetly and scratched behind the cat’s ears, making her nuzzle into his hand and purr happily. “Are you enjoying the party too? I bet you are, with all the guests giving you treats, am I right?”

Opal flopped on the grass and allowed Leon to pat her smooth white belly. He let out a chuckle, “You are an adorable cat.”

“Cats are such mysterious little creatures.” Ada said with mild amusement as she watched Leon play with the cat and give her affectionate belly rubs. Other than her brothers, he was the first man she saw openly fawning over a cat. The princess slowly made her way to Opal so that it would not be startled.

When she was near enough to bend down and touch the cat, she spoke, “I have an equally snow white feline at home. She’s a Persian, a gift from one of the diplomats.”

“I would love to see her. What’s her name?” Leon said enthusiastically, before he caught himself and attempted to save face. He was not supposed to be enjoying this right now. The blonde stood up and took a couple of steps back, allowing Ada to have her turn with Opal. 

The princess was bemused by his enthusiasm and sudden coldness as he remembered that they were not on good terms. She decided to ignore his request about seeing her Persian and replied, “My cat is called Jade. Do you own a cat in your mansion?”

“Yes, we have a few cats at our house. One for me and both of my siblings,” The blond noble said, feeling a little at ease that Ada was not being hostile at the moment. “I have a British shorthair named Max.”

Ada found it rather endearing that the Kennedy siblings had a cat each and if circumstances were better, she would have wanted to see them as well. Alas, she had to be content with Jade and Opal.

She bent down and scratched the longhaired feline’s head before petting the creature from its head all the way down to its bottom. Opal was very content now as she closed her eyes in bliss. 

“Do you want to return to Phillip, little Opal?” The cat just continued to purr, obviously not understanding the human language.

“She seems quite happy right where she is.” Leon said as Opal curled up for a little cat nap. “Let’s leave her be. Cats can get quite cranky when you keep them from their sleep.”

“I know.” Ada stood up and bid the cat a quiet farewell. They walked past the little walkway again and the guests were chatting about them, as usual. It seems their little charade successfully convinced them to forgive Leon as well.

Both of them walked around the garden a bit more, and Leon was starting to forget that they were still mad. Their parents and Phillip noticed the duo as they came back towards them, and Matthias could almost sense a change in his son when he saw him.

“Did you enjoy your walk?” The Earl asked Leon. He nodded and cleared his throat. “Yes, it was quite enjoyable.” The blonde said, trying to sound sincere but not quite so sincere that it would tip Ada off that he truly enjoyed their time together. 

Ada could see Leon was attempting to feign sincerity again. “We met Opal in the rose garden, Phillip.” The princess happily spoke to her tutor and the older man smiled as well.

“Ah, so that would explain why some of my flowers have been chewed. I would have to build a little play area for her so she leaves the garden alone.”

“I’m sure Opal would love that.” Leon said with a soft smile.

The rest of the garden party went well, and both the Kennedys and the Orients left on good terms. Leon was not sure if he would ever see Ada again, but at least now he could put the incident behind him.

Princess Ada departed Phillip’s residence with a change of opinion regarding Lord Kennedy. For someone who loves cats, he wasn’t that much of a boor. She related the experience to Grace as the older woman was brushing her hair yet again. 

“It would seem that second impressions would be better than first impressions, my lady. We should believe in second chances.”

The raven haired princess looked at her reflection, deep in thought. “I suppose so, Grace…” She wasn’t sure she would entirely trust the blonde nobleman yet but he wasn’t so bad.

[marsipanic]

The God’s Mark

Chapter 1 part 2

NSFW

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It took little to convince the envoys to speak on their respective kingdoms, and the neutral Isle of Colde. After a weeks’ time of preparation, Claudia sent each of them back with an invitation to their kings, that they would introduce themselves to Her Imperial Majesty, and make their intentions clear. It heavily implied that if they refused the invitation, it would be seen as hostile.

“Ensure you tell them of our army and magic, if you would be so kind,” Claudia said as she saw them through the portal. When the last of them disappeared into the light, Cordelia turned to her sister with a somewhat grim expression.

“So, we play the waiting game, now,” she said. Claudia nodded.

“There’s much work to be done in the meantime. We won’t be seeing The Ivory for some time,” she said. Lia scoffed.

“I will find time, I assure you,” she linked arms with Claudia and together they led their cavalry back to the palace.

There were accommodations to be made for the 7 Kings, and their heirs. Each of their quarters were to be resplendent, a demonstration of Zaethis’s ability to meet the satisfaction of 7 kings, and their entourage, with ease. Food needed to be imported from each duchy, and proper payment needed to be made to each. The dragons needed to be readied. Gowns were to be ordered, gifts to be decided, and the Black Guard and the army needed to be briefed.

“Grandmother, are we sure we want to go through such great lengths? If they decide they want war after such expense…”

“My dear, if we want to foster peace the best way to do it is to make an offer they couldn’t possibly refuse. And friendship with our empire is a very valuable commodity. We shall see what they offer,” Hildegard said, and patted her gently on the hand. “Now, off you go, and see to it that Cordelia has finished the report on the infirmary supplies.”

Claudia said nothing in return, and curtsied as she left, although a frown etched her face. What good could a foreign band of men who argue amongst themselves for power bring to their door? She sought out her sister and prayed to the gods that there would not be a repeat of the war their father had started, years ago. He was gone now, and Claudia and Cordelia lived, marred by much more than a sword.

The day finally came, and everything was pristine. The statues and marble glimmered, and the entire court was present in their best finery.

Claudia sat in her throne, adjacent to Hildegarde’s, which was front and middle, of course, and Cordelia sat on the opposing side.

The sisters’ gowns were coordinated, and made of a draping, exquisite, white silk, and delicate lace, adorned with an ornate silver corset, which the barest amount of skin peeked through. Pale, green gems, hung like tear drops from the skirts, and a ribboned cape of silver garland and gold cascaded from their neck and fell to the ground. They both had circlets of pearls, and lilies woven into their braided hair. Their exposed shoulders pictured a blue, swirling tattoo; The Mark of Ciris and The Mark of Euna, the source of their abilities, and the declaration that they were descendants of the Creators. Hildegarde had the Mark of Omos, God of justice and redemption, as those who ruled before bared the marks of the pantheon.  

It was a far cry from their usual attire, and once again, a display. Hildegarde had the customary empress robes, an incandescent white and gold that took 15 servants to carry the train.

“Blighted thing only gets heavier with age,” Hildegarde said under her breath, as she took her place in the throne room. The sisters stifled a laugh.

As the trumpets sounded, everyone rose to their feet to greet the foreign kings.

“Look sharp, my dears,” Hildegarde whispered.

“Presenting: King Liam, of Akedia! Accompanied by; Queen Norah, and heir apparent, the Prince Lynt,” The herald bellowed.

A rather gentle looking couple came striding into the throne room, arm in arm, followed by a young man who looked as though he might sleep right where he was. The three of them had straw colored hair and green eyes.

“I daresay, is he fighting back a yawn?” Cordelia whispered.

They made their way to the platform, bowed and curtsied, before Liam stood by his assigned place at a long table, set at the front, right side. His wife and son took their place behind him, and this continued for each of the royal families who were announced.

“King Roc, of Avari! Accompanied by his heir apparent, Prince Guy!”

In strode a towering man, with long black hair, and only one crimson eye visible, as the other was covered with a patch. Beside him, was his son, sharing his father’s sharp features, and piercing expression.

“My, how they scowl,” Claudia said quietly. Cordelia put her hand delicately to her lips to stifle a giggle.

“Hush, you two,” Hildegard said, although the corner of her lips were slightly upturned.

The procession went on, until the last kingdom passed through the massive foyer.

“King Gilbert, of Qelsum! Accompanied by his heir, Prince Toa, and the Princess Idina!”

A man with an icy countenance strode in. His blue hair was twined neatly and coordinated well with his finery. The prince and princess were attractive, though, Idina had a scheming look about her.

Finally, the herald stood before them all, and introduced the hosts.

“You are in the presence of Her Imperial Majesty Hildegarde Augustine, Fifth of Her Name, Queen Defender of the People, and Empress of the Great Empire of Zaethis. On her right; Her Imperial Highness, The Princess Claudia Rebecca, First of Her Name, Captain Commander of the Black Guard, and Crown Heir Apparent. On her left; Her Imperial Highness, The Princess Cordelia Odette, Second of Her Name, Lieutenant of the Black Guard, and Imperial Scholar. All Hail!”

The court responded with a resound “Hail!”

Hildegarde glanced around, and with a satisfied nod, sat upon her throne, which prompted everyone to take their seats, thereafter. The tension and excitement in the court could have been ignited, and curious whispers could be heard within the crowded room.

“My Lords and My Ladies, I bid you a sincere welcome. I trust you have found your accommodations befitting,” Hildegard said.

King Klaus of Invidia rose to speak first.

“We are honored to be guests in your Empire, Your Majesty. Might I be the first to say, it is magnificent,” he placed a hand over his chest in a gesture of sincerity. “And I must thank you for returning all of our people to us, in one piece, after our grievous trespass.”

Roc scoffed beside him.

“Hardly,” he said. “They reported several broken limps and fingers, if I recall.”

“An unfortunate occurrence, to be sure,” Klaus interjected, nervously. “However, Her Majesty was kind enough to heal them, magically, afterwards.”

 “Ah, yes,” Hildegarde mused. “You must pardon Princess Claudia for the broken limbs, as she was only doing her duty to protect her land from foreign threats, you see. And you can thank Princess Cordelia for the mending of said broken limbs. My granddaughters are dedicated to their duty and their country, I’m sure you understand.”

“Quite! And may I be the first to say, they are also exquisitely beautiful,” King Louis of Luxure, rose, tossing his lock lavender locks over his shoulder, and fluttered his long lashes. “May I inquire of each, are either of Your Highness’ betrothed?”

Claudia and Cordelia exchanged a knowing look, and covered half their faces with their handheld fans, masking the laughter that threatened to escape.

“You flatter us, My Lord,” Lia said.

“I’m afraid we have prioritized our work and devotion to the empire, in place of pursuing a spouse,” Claudia added, already tired of the conversation.

“Creating and establishing heirs is a royal priority,” Roc spoke again. “I have little patience for this flattery. We have come to offer an alliance with the Kingdom of Avari. I offer betrothal to my heir. One of your granddaughters would be Queen, and in exchange we would have use of your technology and army.”

“What the boorish fool is trying to say,” Gilbert rose from the adjacent table, and a sneer snapped over Roc’s face. “Is while we must take our time to establish ourselves as useful allies, it is expected that one of our kingdoms leave with the hand of one, or both, of your granddaughters. Might you consider?”

“I believe the princesses would enjoy Invidia, as it is a most charming place,” Klaus said, the anxiety in his expression growing by the second.

“I would be more than honored to show them the entirety of Luxure,” Louis offered.

“Oh, dear,” Liam, finally spoke, but only because Lynt had fallen asleep, and was leaning on his father for support. His valet stood behind him, looking as though he might faint, himself.

The court broke into a cacophony of whispers and murmuring, while the kings began arguing and fussing amongst themselves. Claudia looked to Cordelia, who was just as unimpressed by the whole ordeal, and then leaned forward. Marriage? To these fools?

“Grandmother, must we continue—” She started.

Hildegard all but raised one hand, and silence struck the room like lightening. The woman was still formidable, even in her old age, and her presence was unrivaled, even by the number of kings before her.

“My Lords, my granddaughters are not brainless pawns for me to give away as I wish,” she said, and the princesses’ shoulders relaxed. “They are my cherished kin, my heirs, and the most important asset of this empire. While I would value each of your kingdoms’ friendship, they have no need to be queen of your countries, as one is to be the empress of this one, and the other her Right Hand. They have power, magic, an army, and the loyalty of all who live here. You will have to offer something they do not currently have: Companionship. Romantic love.”

“What kind of foolishness is this?” Roc said, the scowl on his face deepening.

“Yes, Grandmother, do explain,” Claudia’s voice was urgent, and the panic was rising in her stomach again.

“I don’t know how you do things in your country, but in mine, it is important to find one’s life partner, at the very least, pleasant,” Hildegarde said. “I offer you all this; You and your sons may stay for a duration here in my court. You will be allowed passage back to your kingdoms, at any point, for you are guests. If, in that period, your heirs have gained the approval of either of mine, and myself, I will agree to an alliance. Our resources will also be yours.”

“Grand— Your Majesty, if we could just pause a moment—” Cordelia tried but fell on deaf ears.

“A reasonable request!” Klaus proclaimed, happily.

“A challenge, then?” Roc scoffed. “So be it.”

“Excellent,” Hildegard said. “Although, there is one matter I wish to discuss before everyone takes their leave to get ready for tonight’s festivities. Which of you summoned the portal? Our studies of it show that it was done from your world.”

Each of the kings looked at one another, expectantly, but no one came forward.

“It appears we are not sure,” Liam said, still being used as a stool for his son.

“Interesting… I suppose we shall learn, then, won’t we?”

Hildegarde rose, and dismissed the court, and all of the valets and servants began their busy work.  Claudia and Lia followed the empress from the throne room, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Grandmother, you’ll forgive my insolence, but you can’t be completely serious?” Claudia asked, incredulously.

“Did you see that boy? He was asleep on his father in court.”

“And that Qelsum and Avari… I’ve seen frozen over lakes with more warmth,” Claudia added.

“My dear girls, you needn’t marry any of them if you do not wish to! Take this opportunity to build rapport with these kingdoms and learn something. If by chance, after some time, you find you’re still repulsed by the idea of marriage, we will still have gained. However, if you find that you are fond of one—”

“Grandmother, the likelihood of that happening—” Cordelia pleaded.

“—then all the more reason to have them as our guests. Now, go on, and get ready for the Welcoming Ball tonight. You will have many guests to attend to.”

Hildegarde and her valet’s left the girls standing quite stricken side by side. A fat silence lay between them, until a grim realization occurred to Claudia.

“Gods, they’re going to try and win us like a trophy, aren’t they?”

They both sighed in disgust, and marched off to their chambers, determined to get the night over with, as painlessly as possible.

[theclaymorrigan]

FORGING THE SWORD OF THE GREAT QUEEN 📜 Scroll Three:

Sinder and I showed the encircling figures out open palms. I was calculating which targets would be best to drop in order to break the circle. The Thalmor had built up on my natural archery skills and combined them with stealth. I was able to draw and fire as a continuous act by my parents. The Thalmor had honed this to firing multiple shafts simultaneously and intimate familiarity with vital spots to place them in an opponent's anatomy. If these Forsworn were mortal, I could possibly fell then all before any could reach Sinder and I. But they were not closing in and seemed as perplexed by us as we were of them.

When we had spotted them from the ridge earlier, The Wild Hunt had come to mind. Some of the masculine figures had shillouettes reminiscent of Hircine, resonating with the chord struck when Sinder had asked for my Bosmeri name and I momentarily had recalled my childhood. Hircine was known to lead what was known as a wild hunt. The same term was applied when Wood Elves invoked a final option in times of dire peril and became shifting, nigh-unstoppable beasts. But this band was neither. Sinder's nostrils scanned the breeze.

"Bretons," he whispered to me.

It was the year 145 of the Fourth Era. The politics were beyond field agents such as Sinder and I but, from what I understand, the Empire, spread thin with war against the superior forces of The Aldmeri Dominion, had been expelled from the region of Skyrim known as The Reach. The Reachmen had petitioned The Empire to recognize their sovereignty, but Titus Meade II and his Empire were a bit preoccupied at that moment. To my Thalmor masters, this was a perfect opportunity to gain yet another foothold to strike at The Empire of men from. If this unrest could cut Cyrodill off from their Nord reinforcements and possibly gain for The Dominion this Reach region, so much the better. They were quite willing to parley with the occupiers of Markarth. Cerum Saudalf led my special forces team to intercept an Imperial envoy and its escorts. Having spotted this unknown band during our reconnaissance of the Imperials, we tailed them into ambush. Or had we?

The silence stretched on uncomfortably. Weren't Reachmen of Breton ancestry? Was Forsworn how the rebels of the Reach called themselves? All our briefings had focused on Imperials and their Nordic vassals. Sinder and I were operating blind. This band appeared barbaric by Altmer standards but, again, I was reminded of what had once been home. My conditioning from over a decade of torture and indoctrination began to teeter.

"Is this forseen, Queenspeaker?" asked a burly warrior. They spoke the Tamerelic language but I still didn't understand.

"Perhaps, Bridron," answered the most beautiful female I had yet beheld as she stepped forward.

Perhaps it was the time of year (Summer Solstice) or perhaps the glow lent her in the gloaming. Perhaps Sinder's unintentional prodding of buried memories combined with the wilderness aspects of these Forsworn clad in hide, bone and feathers. Perhaps it was my still young age, burgeoning into adulthood. Make your own choice; all that matters is that I was deeply smitten and any chance I would nock an arrow against her was immediately nonexistent.

"Speak if you were consecrated to The Lord Of The Hunt at birth; to He you would call Hircine," she commanded.

"I was!" I was compelled to answer after a moment's realization that this was precisely the case.

"Then we have come for you," she stated.

"But, Morrigan, er, Queenspeaker," objected the warrior, "This is but a wisp of an elf and his hunting beast!"

"You doubt the prophecy?" She retorted. "The Matron bade us come to this point on the river at this designated time and, no sooner than we arrive, he appears. If it is not who we seek, dispatch and disprove him in the name of The Maiden, The Matron, and The Morrigan."

"With relish," he leered and strode at me. He wore the antlered headdress, bore a facsimile of a sword crafted from wood and bone, and was half again my size. The gathered circle watched impassively. It was to be one on one. All I had was a hunting bow, a quiver of arrows and a dagger.

"In The Names!" He shouted as he swung his weapon. I instinctively parried with my bow as I drew the dagger. I expected to swat his cut aside and end the fight with a dagger stroke at the opening then provided. But the Forsworn Sword belied its primitive appearance and cleaved my bow easily. I was forced to turn the attack aside with the dagger instead. The strength behind his blow was barely turned aside at the cost of the dagger being knocked from my grasp. He raised his arms and readied an overhead strike to cleave me in twain.

Unfortunately for mighty Bridron, I was quicker. My hand flashed to my quiver and I pierced his heart with a handful of arrows. He clutched at the cluster of shafts and fell dead upon the rocky riverbank.

"Behold our new Claymorrigan," the beauty proclaimed. "The new Sword Of The Great Queen."

TO BE CONTINUED…

[thestarpilot]

“Less Green Euglossine”

The body arrived mid-morning yesterday. Unaccompanied by the usual vibratory contexts of discovery. All but the time since her estimated expiration: four days. The collectors delivering her shook their heads. Only saying, “This is above your paygrade.”

Everyone in the building was rattled. Seven hours into external examinations and little headway had been made at all. Opinions were split and war seemed more likely than consensus. Identity was pivotal. Those in the examining staff were the same in the newly scribed title– Imperial Haruspex. Only distinguished by degrees of seniority. But factions of thought superseded and three sets of characters feuded: the augurs, the coroners, and the pathologists. The mad, the bored, and the righteous. Most haruspices were bored, but satisfied with survival.

Vaulted ceilings loomed over the observation room. Freshly tapestried imperial banners hung from the mullions of the glass-block windows that arched toward the rotunda’s zenith, eclipsing most light. What had once been a bright space inviting thorough inspection had become grim. Washed bloody by the woven garnet hues. The building was old, older than most. Republican-old, but only the maddest, soon-to-be dead fool would say something like that. Yet still, some republican remnants persisted beyond buildings. Even the newly distinguished haruspices remained by their previous title medicator. At least in casual reference.

All haruspices had been medicators once. A soon fading memory. Since the upheavals of the old regime, the coalescence of the new one, and the quietus time since, there hadn’t been much opportunity for medicine. The thirty years of change had only one exceptionally static pattern. Bodies. All needing examination and factful determination. Yet almost all receiving the same broad detail of report:

“Case #: …

Subject: …

…

General Findings:

Presenting body displays usual processes of exsanguination. Putrefaction is almost non-existent. Except slight remnants of intra-abdominal cavity decomposition, near complete desiccation of remains.

Specific Findings:

No atypicalities.

…”

Death had become the exclusive writ of the imperium. All natural causes were absent in considerations. Being in the capital, the old mortuarium was centered amongst the bloodshed. Its haruspices had seen more than most of Empire’s fate-stained hand. But the cases were always the same: waifish young women, servants from the palace presenting divoted patella from too long knelt in Empire’s company; large brutes of men with scar-stained skin, praetorii given the graft marks their once fleshbound armor seared across the bodies once removed; feeble and crooked-shaped old men bearing the blackened internal tissues of nyxene drinkers, a lifestyle which only magistratuum salary could afford. No matter who it was the corpse on the table had been, the report was generally the same: They were letted.

The woman on the observation room’s examination table would receive no such report. Haruspices received corpses on the day they died without fail. Except her. And none of the waves of bodies before her had ever had any cause for the dispatch of an imperial envoy. When the Empire’s adjutant arrived, the dozen or so haruspices of the mortuarium gathered in the observation room at attention. Ready to brief him on their unfinished report. Case #: 2473-B:

“Case #: 2473-B

Subject: Unknown

…

General Findings:

Presentation of highly anomalous characteristics. Subject exhibits a complete absence of post-mortem change. Indications of either unknown techniques of preservation or novel state of physiology. Warrants further investigation.

Specific Findings:

Abnormal external appearance. Skin pale with subtle yet uniform blue-green undertone. Skin texture smooth showing no signs of dehydration or epidermal slippage. Surface temperature cool to touch but warmer than expected ambient temperature. No rigidity of soft-tissues, subject musculature remains manipulable. Absence of lividity. Signs of ocular clouding absent, no corneal turbidity or tache noire formation. Pupils remain undilated. Edges of sclera exhibit faint tinge of blue-green hue consistent with skin undertone. No presence of typical odor of decomposition. Faint metallic scent, unfamiliar to all observing haruspices. No visible wounds, contusions, or any other signs of violent trauma. Fingernails intact, no defensive wounds present.

Additional notes:…”

The adjutant’s face had seemed to freeze and boil at the same time as he read the findings. He stopped before the report concluded with additional notes. His consternation suddenly muted and resumed its cold, neutral state. One of the haruspices, an augur, began to chime in excitedly. Surely hoping to suggest some horrid new inquisition against this abnormal genestrain.

“Distinguished adjut–”

“Say nothing,” he blared, “Nothing at all. You are all hereby embargoed by order of the Emperor. All information pertaining to this subject is to remain secret by threat of death.”

His voice was almost resolved, but betrayed a thin quaver. Clearly, even he wasn’t sure how to handle this or its relay to his superiors. Upon his decree, after only the briefest pause and a somewhat rushed official imperial salutation, he turned and his accompanying retinue followed. Much to the relief of the attending haruspices who were left to their duties. Thankfully– seemingly– spared for now. But as the doors of the observation room slammed shut behind the imperial procession, a silence thickened in the room. The haruspices exchanged uneasy looks.

“What now?” A coroner sputtered, as surely uncertain as the rest.

“Nothing, you heard the adjutant!” Barked back one of the augurs. “Whatever foulness this is, there will be no further examinations. Not unless so ordered.”

The augur’s words lingered in the room, vested with the hefty weight of imperial authority. But they were also untrue. The adjutant had embargoed dissemination of findings, indeed. But he had mentioned nothing of further examination. Eyes met in glances as the room of haruspices searched amongst themselves for answers.

“And if we’re ordered to forget?” One pathologist rejoined, his eyes fixed to the subject on the examination table. Her faint blue-green skin almost aglow in the waning red light of the room.

The room again felt a thick silence as the implications of the question rippled through. Coroners shifted, caught between survival and curiosity. Even the augurs themselves, torn between loyalty through obedience and service through discovery. Both groups wrought by fear and wonder.

“It reminds me of bees...” The youngest haruspex broke through the silence. All eyes turned to look at him in massed confusion.

“Her skin.” He tried to solve their puzzlement. “Her skin reminds me of orchid bees. Euglossines, I think. But less green.”

[braveryhearted]

More obscure muses ( introduction ) series.

Fandom: TRINITY BLOOD.

Muse #3 -ION FORTUNA.

Age: 19 ( ageless ) ( manga, anime, light novels )

Ion Fortuna is the Earl of Memphis, a Methuselah of a high-ranking Imperial noble family and a favorite of the Empress.

In the series, he was first introduced as a secret envoy sent by Empress Augusta Vradica to Cardinal Caterina Sforza. He is rather young and feminine in appearance, but is actually about the same age as Radu Barvon (Ion's distant relative).

It is stated in the novel that Ion's mother died in his infancy, he was raised by several relatives, but his primary caregiver was Mirka Fortuna (Ion's grandmother).

Ion is a short-tempered, somewhat patronizing Methuselah noble who dislikes Terrans from outside the Empire. After losing his best friend to betrayal, he gradually becomes more mature, working alongside Terrans to protect the Empress and stop the Rosenkreuz Orden from starting a new Human-Terran war.

[scotianostra]

November 29th 1699 saw the death of Patrick Leopold Gordon, general of the Imperial Russian army.

Born March 31st 1635, Patrick Leopold Gordon of Auchleuchries , as a young man he left Scotland, which was torn by religious and political strife, Gordon went to Danzig (now Gdańsk) in Poland and studied at the Jesuit College for two years He had decided the life of a priest wasn’t for him and was on his way back to Scotland when a Polish-Swedish war broke out in 1655, he became a mercenary and fought on different occasions for both sides.

In 1661 Gordon entered the Russian army as a major, and, after suppressing the Moscow riots of 1663, he was promoted to the rank of colonel. In 1666 Tsar Alexis sent him as an envoy to England, but he failed to complete his mission satisfactorily and lost the tsar’s favour. Despite his efforts to leave the Russian service, his position improved with succeeding regimes, particularly after he heroically defended Chigirin (located in Ukraine), which was besieged by the Turks in 1678. He then rose to become a close advisor to Russian Tsar, Peter the Great being promoted to the rank of General-in-Chief and was also made an admiral of the Russian navy. It is even said that Peter entrusted Gordon take charge of his empire while he visited Western Europe. The two became such close friends that Tsar Peter kept vigil at Gordon’s deathbed.

The great Russian historian, S.М. Soloviev, regarded Patrick Gordon as “one of the most remarkable men” ever employed by the tsars, and was grateful to him for “recording his adventures and existence day by day, leaving to us curious tidings of himself, of his brothers in arms, and of Russia before the age of transformation” – and much else besides. Passages from the Diary were published in 1849. The original is preserved in manuscript in the Russian State Military Archive in Moscow.

[endlessthoughtsofafangirl]

The Young Imperial Envoy | 少年大钦差 Jin Dong as Xu An