A New King's Ascension [OPEN]

Invitations had been sent out to all foreign monarchs, leaders, and to their respective embassies in the Kingdom of McMasterdonia. It was expected to be a grand affair.

The Queen Mother had seen to every detail. The finest of wine, cheese, liquor, and food had been brought in for this event. Her grandson deserved a fine birthday party. He had suffered terrible loss and this was an opportunity for him to demonstrate his ability to lead one last time before he made the arduous journey to assume the throne.

The Ascension Festival

On the morning of his 18th birthday, the Prince will be awoken and presented with the fealty of the Council on behalf of the royal caucus. This will mark the beginning of his pilgrimage to assume the throne.

From the sanctuary of Isabella, the King would commence the pilgrimage and walk to the coastal city of Port Augusta. On this journey, he will be met by crowds of people and celebratory parades marking the joy and happiness of his reign.

From Port Augusta, he will travel by yacht to the city of Aurore. The rough waters of the gulf of McMasterdonia symbolising what must be overcome to be a great King.

In Aurore, the new King will encounter poverty. Suffering. The downtrodden. The forgotten. A great King must see first hand the plight of his people, so that he may deliver them to prosperity and tranquility.

From Aurore, the King will travel by traditional boat down the treacherous and winding river system of the Isles. The heartland of the Kingdom will welcome him into its deep vortex. This is where food, grain, and livestock is raised. Where life is somewhat more traditional. Where some of the most fierce of loyalist fighters had come from.

The small boat would eventually come to ground against the foothills of Caspian Mountain. The new King must hike up Caspian Mountain to the mountain stronghold of Caspius. This requires care, planning, and resourcefulness. Important skills for a new monarch. In Caspius, at the old fort, the King will retrieve the Sword of Kian from the Sept of Flemingovia. Here his Kingsguard will be waiting for him, and from there they will never leave his side again, until they, or he, is dead.

The King would then travel by boat from Caspius, the final part of the journey. Onboard, he would be washed, dressed, and prepared for the official ceremony.


Finally, the King would arrive in Intelligentsia. The cosmopolitan heartland of the Kingdom, as it had been during the Empire. Wealth, privilege, art, education, all call Intelligentisa home. Foreign dignitaries, aristocrats, soldiers, and commoners would be there as the King is crowned in Intelligentsia Cathedral. The ceremony broadcast throughout the Kingdom, the former imperial territories, and the world.


King of the McMasterdonians.

But for now, a party.

OOC: this will follow the party

Andrew Buschini was less than thrilled that he had been sent by Arc-Wonderess Jarreau to this "show of goodwill." Of all people it had to be him that was to show the southern power that Sutherland was willing to be "best of friends." He could already picture the stares and micro aggressions that would await him at this child's birthday party. He had been given very specific instructions to be the embodiment of Sutherland as a peaceful and well meaning nation, whatever that means. His car pulled up to Isabella Castle and he took one last deep breath before the door was opened by the chauffeur. If he wanted to win the will of the Sutherlan people and become Arc-Wonderess someday, he had to obey Jarreau. To be an agreeable Prime Inspirator now meant that he could be a dominant and unyielding Arc-Wonderess for Sutherland later. It was simple logic.

Buschini was escorted to the main gate of the castle where he was greeted by a group of McMasterdonian socialites. The Buschini show was about to begin.

Prince Nurendír Hadn't been to Kian in some time, but he was excited to be returning as a representative of his Empire. He was doubly excited to be witnessing the end of the McMasterdonian civil war, and the ascension of Richard to the throne. The Crown of Alnaria followed the goings on of other Royal Families closely, and the to see the House of McMaster survive such a trial was a great relief to the Emperor.

Isabella was a welcome sight to Nurendír and as his car drove through the streets he could not help but marvel at some of the sights. McMasterdonia was as ancient as Alnaria and the vestiges of the Kianese Empire in this city were a wonder to behold. He knew many of the other invited guests would be attending the celebration, but he had made a point to himself of staying to witnessing the coronation. As a military man and as a royal, Nurendír understood the importance of such ceremonies and the bond witnessing such a thing could bring. His goal was ultimately to befriend the young King before returning to Alnaria, as he knew all to well the struggles of being a young player in an old game. He in fact had several young Monarchs he wished to meet, including King Tobias of Prydania, and Queen Alyica of Norsia. For now however he would meet soon-to-be King Richard, and attend what should be quite the party, and that was more than enough.

Isabella radiated. The shapes and colours were unique...far different from Craviter or Gothis. It even contrasted with the sights of Icena. Merilia and the VF had reflected their locales, but they were still grounded in the world Tobias knew.

Kian though...Kian was different. And more than just Kian. This wasn't an outpost of the old Ceretian or Syrixian empires. This was Isabella, McMasterdonia. Proper Kian. A far-off corner of the world that radiated exotic stories and fed the imagination of Tobias as a child.

The wonder of the sites he saw from the car had distracted him from why he was here. Richard's coronation. It wasn't so long ago that he was where the Prince, now King, was. A new king, an end to civil war. He hoped to meet the new monarch. There were matters to attend to of course, but above all it was a show of friendship and solidarity. A sign that he intended to support this new King and his government against the tyranny that had threatened the McMaster realm.

"A party" said to himself as he continued to catch glimpses of buildings that could very well have predated Prydania itself.
Thankfully he'd be better suited for it...literally. He'd have torn his hair out if he had to wear that red jacket/black trouser military outfit again. Blah blah blah tradition...he'd finally put his foot down. Besides. It's not like the white tie formal outfit he'd opted for was unacceptable. He was in a tailcoat for crying out loud! He wasn't a solider anyway. Best to leave the old military getup for the ceremonies back home.

"Yes, a party Toby" Rylond Jórvík responded, snapping the Prydanian King out of his thoughts.
"Hope you're up to it" the son of the Thane of Jórvík responded with a smile.

"And why wouldn't I be?" Tobias asked.
"Don't think I'm up to teaching these southerners about holding their liquor?"

"Well you're with Her Grace down in Norsia, yeah?" Rylond replied.

"Yes, and?"

"Well that means you're not going to be able to enjoy the Kianese ladies like I'll be." Rylond's grin grew, far to excited for his own good.

Tobias just chuckled.
"Just don't make too much of a scene." He wasn't too worried. Rylond wasn't nearly the frat boy he carried himself as. Regardless? He wanted him here, having convinced him to take a few days off of his E-Series prep with MM Taurínmáttur. He didn't get to spend as much time with his best friend as he'd like to these days.

"Don't worry about me, you do your King thing, with all the other important people. I'll make due" the Thane's son chuckled.

Tobias nodded back, continuing to watch the scenes of Isabella pass him by as his car approached the Castle.

Raum straightened his tie, looking thoughtfully at himself in the mirror. Five years ago he’d been an elected representative for the Walken-Strasberg Landesgrad, and now he was in Isabella, McMasterdonia representing the King of Esplandia and the Vestrugat Federation.

Whenever he thought about it he couldn’t help but laugh. He’d never thought he’d ever go beyond representative. His late wife had always seen greatness in him, telling him he’d make Chancellor one day. Well, he thought, I did. And more. I helped unite the Vestrugat, and became Royal Chancellor of Esplandia.

If Jenevae could see him now. He took a moment to step outside on the balcony of his hotel. The early morning air was warm, the city sparkling in the light of the sun. He took a moment to drink it in. He let his thoughts drift as he enjoyed the view, thinking about his wife. The memories were always bittersweet, but there had been happiness, and three wonderful children.

He wondered about this Prince Richard. He had lost his mother and been thrust into adulthood during a bloody conflict. Would he be a good king? Time would tell in the end, as with all things.

He heard a knock on his door, but ignored it. A few more moments as he enjoyed his morning. The knock was repeated, and he heard the door be opened.

“Chancellor?” his secretary, Withurta, called.

“Out on the balcony,” he responded, turning back into the room.

“I wanted to remind you of the call to the Minister of the Treasury, and then we need to go over the upcoming budgetary meeting.”

Raum sighed. “Alright then. But let’s not forget, it’s a beautiful day, and we’re here for a party.”

Grace looked at herself with a hand mirror and took a deep breath, finishing the last dabs of lipstick. With a blink, she looked at herself. Grace wasn't satisfied with what she saw, but there was little she could do. The Empress placed down the stick next to her hotel's sink.

She had hardly travelled this far south. In fact, it had felt like forever since she even left Malor-Kanada. However, this she was interested in, and so she found time for it. Not like anybody at home would challenge her about it. Grace had heard a lot about Kian, and was delighted about this change. Yet another young leader. She could relate to what position he'd been thrown into, and Grace hoped he was more prepared than she was, for his sake.

Grace looked at herself once more and stepped out of her room, where two men were waiting. "Come along, then. We have somewhere to be," she spoke, with identical responses, "Of course, Madam."

"Alright, let's get over to the Castle, i can't wait for the party to get started." President Roman said, stepping off the elegant jetliner, starting his stride towards the car.

Intelligentsia was as beautiful as Bernard remembers it from years past when he traveled here with his wife and two kids to explore the rich history and magnificent sights of the heart of the long-dead Kianese Empire.

"Right this way Mr.President." Bernard's most trusted security advisor and close friend Jason Graham said, leading him to the black SUV, scanning the area for threats that were frankly not there.

"Alright Jason, you don't need to be so cautious, Intelligentsia is extremely safe nowadays." Bernard said, trying to calm his friend.

"I know, but it's just for your safety Mr. President." Jason said, as professional and uptight as ever...

As the black SUV made its way to Isabella Castle, Bernard scanned over documents describing the current political situation in McMasterdonia.

"Damn, only 18 and he has to take the helm of all of McMasterdonia... that's awful..." Bernard said with a feeling of immense empathy for Prince Richard; having lost his parents in a car crash when he was only 13, Bernard could relate to how Prince Richard was probably feeling having to shoulder such a burden after having just lost his parents at such a young age.

Looking out the window towards the ancient buildings and shimmering sights, the whole city had the looming feeling of sadness draping over it. Despite this, there also seemed to be a feeling of hope creeping in; with the coronation of a new King and an end to the civil war that ravaged the nation.

"So Bernard" Jason said, dropping his guard for a moment "I know that it might be hard to ignore your... personal feelings... what with what happened to your parents and all... but you have to keep in mind that this is business and you must stay professional, the leaders from across the world are here and Mondari has to maintain a positive global reputation."

"I know that Jason, but the young Prince is more than likely very stressed out right now, managing a country the size of McMasterdonia is not exactly easy, especially after a civil war."

"I know Bernard, but this is still a political party, every single move made here is going to be judged by any who sees, Mondari cannot be made a fool of in front of the entire world." Jason said firmly "That means no drinking, you know how you get when you drink... Mr. President."

Bernard gave an awkward laugh, remembering when he punched Jason's mother in the face after she told him he had enough to drink... after three shots of whiskey.

"Yeah... I'll do my best to avoid alcohol, I don't want to start a fight with any of the other world leaders."

The SUV pulled up to the magnificently built Castle. Jason parked the car and they got out, heading towards the gate; secretly, Bernard was quite excited to meet the other leaders.

Maria gazed out the window of the state car as they rounded the final corner headed to Isabella Castle, trying to tune out the endless prattling of her unappointed private secretary Diana. For the entirety of the trip here (motorcade from the palace to the airport through throngs of onlookers and paparazzi, three hour flight from Rethel to Intelligentsia, and again a motorcade ride) this woman had talked and talked about the impression Maria must make. The importance of it all. Proper diplomatic decorum, and so on and so on.

"Remember, Your Majesty, the Prime Minister is not attending today, so it's upon you to represent...."

"The Prime Minister." For her entire life, as long as she could remember. Her mother had time and again reminded her it was the Queen's job to drive her vision for the nation forward. And it was the duty of the ministers to help. "Remember, we're the ones who the people look to to lead them," she would say. Then there was the accident. (Or so it was reported.) And since then every few months there was another pretender in the palace telling her brother precisely what he intended to do and how it was her brother's duty to assent without question! Until he just gave up, of course.

And now here she was. Her Majesty Maria the Second riding in a state car to see her old bothersome cousin, His Majesty King Richard. How so much had changed. Likely, neither of them knew just what their places were in these new lives they had entered. Maria certainly didn't.

The motorcade slowed to a halt. They had arrived. As a uniformed officer of the Royal Guard made his way out of the rear vehicle and prepared to open the door. Diana made one final admonition, "Your Majesty, since what happened to your mother, the crown has been declining. You're the last chance to save this institution. Please do not take this lightly."

As the queen got out of the vehicle she locked eyes with Count Gregor -- her father. She shuddered. She had not seen him for more than two years. How would she even address him? Nervously, but without thinking, she made her way towards the only person in this room she was actually knew.

Perched atop a high hill surrounded by verdant trees and ancient ruins the likes of which rivalled such ancient cities as Kazagham and Akshak lay Isabella Castle, ancient seat of the House of McMaster, one of the world's greatest houses alongside the likes of the Severyns, Kjellse-Tageses, and, of course, his own. Rajesh breathed in the crisp southern air surrounding the imposing structure as he was escorted to the gates of the castle, flanked by three Sentinels.

The Emperor pondered his surroundings. Ancient gardens held trees and bushes old and new, amongst statues sculpted by those whose hands likely had not touched them in hundreds or even thousands of years. Tan-colored buildings rose up within the castle complex, topped with barreled roofs and ringed with exquisite glass windows. This was undoubtedly a summer palace, and one to rival even the likes of Gharmi Sampat.

"Another big fat gala." he thought to himself. Of course, this wasn't a problem for him- he was very much a fan of conversing with people from all across the globe. Through politics, his beloved historical studies came to life, and he was able to write history of his own. His name would be in history books read by millions. And so he continued to think.

Earlier this same year he had visited the Vestrugat to attend a wedding, and had made some important conversations. Now, he was here, in McMasterdonia, attending a coronation that would finally bookend the McMasterdonian Civil War, and ensure that Krevt wasn't the only strong and stable Imperial ally on the Kianese continent. In just a month he would celebrate perhaps the gala of his life- the two thousand year anniversary of the Empire, coinciding with the annual Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting.

However, as the Emperor continued into the castle complex to where the others were, he did not do so alone. With him and his Sentinels was Princess Indira, his niece; the daughter of his younger brother, Prince Rahul. She was not important politically, but she was there nonetheless, because there was someone very important at the gala she had come to see.

Rock, paper, scissors probably wasn't the most appropriate way to decide which Gotmark royal attended the birthday of Prince Richard but it was how it happened. Prince William lost, then immediately invoked favours from all three of his siblings to drag them along with - but their father vetoed sending the youngest, Princess Enje - so the three Oyvindsson brothers were the ones heading to Isabella, in the heart of McMasterdonia.

Like seemingly most of Eras, McMasterdonia was emerging from a period of prolonged instability and uncertaintly, and with both a new King and a Prince reaching majority, the Grand Duke impressed upon his sons the need to establish good relations with a powerhouse of southern Eras. To William, he also tasked the possibility of reaching out to other southern nations, such as Naizerre. A member of the tribal nobility, Abubakar Fumu, would be attending, according to Naizerri news sources. William had plans to travel to Naizerre in the new year, so the opportunity to build ties there was a plus.

William, ever the most proper of the three brothers, lectured them on protacal that they knew. Harris rolled his eyes as his twin went over the same point for the nth time, throwing in some information about how these traditions came from a time before there even was a Gotmark. Harris snorted when William looked disapproving at him and asked if he was listening.

"Yes, Billy, I'm listening. I was listening the first time. I was listening when you repeated it twice on the plane, and then again once we arrived. Relax, brother. We're here to party, especially since Kris's new beau has been banished until he learns protocal of his own."

Kristoph, the older of the three, laughed. Oct had indeed prevented from joining them, as both Queen Catrinna and his own mother, the newly minted Duchess of Lerum, had confined him to the winter palace in Gotmark's capital until he learnt the basics. The transition from civilian to Prince-Consort hadn't been easy for his Alnarion partner - though the purchase a villa in the country for when they needed to get away had helped. The Gondin property had been purchased by a corporation set up very quietly to represent the couple's interests.

The public furore over his outing was thankfully in the past, though he didn't enjoy seeing the phrase 'the gay Prince of Gotmark' alongside his name in every bit of press since it had happened 7 months ago. Oct was right though, he couldn't control it, so he just shrugged and didn't read the papers, breaking a habit he'd had from children.

"We had better get inside, the two of you look like vagrants and the guards are known to shoot first in these parts." Kris led his brothers into the castle, greeting a doorman as they entered. This would be the first time any of them had actually met other Eras royals, though the Royal Angst group chat had been around for some time. Kristoph spied the King of Prydania there, and warned his brothers against bothering the Syrixian princess who was there as well. The two 18 year olds at the very least had the good grace to promise not to embarrass the family, and the three entered.

To anyone who kept a close eye on royal matters, the Dorsett sisters attending a McMasterdonian party would seem hypocritical. It was only nearly a year ago that the sisters delivered a scathing response to the McMasters highlighting their intent to negotiate a marriage for the soon-to-be new King following a bit of controversy at the Ghavarian Syrixia Nightclub.^[1] Yet, perhaps through some act of forgiveness or some divine miracle, the pair found themselves in Isabella with the chance to show solidarity with a kingdom that recently existed a horrific war.

It was a rare moment where Claidie had no choice but to adhere to the etiquette and protocol expected of royalty despite her disdain for it all. Her advisors even needed to call upon her aunt, Marianne, to give her a refresher. Her signature business outfit would no longer do, requiring her to swap it out for a white tie-appropriate dress and a sash that until today she had never worn throughout her reign. It was all unsettling for the more senior princess. Alice, by comparison, felt and appeared significantly more comfortable.

"Relax," Alice told her older sister. "It's all about just making the appearance to say we were here. Enjoy the food, say a few pleasantries... that's all we need to do."

"It's not going to be that simple. I can't imagine them being too pleased with us. I feel like the invitation was a set-up," Claidie said back, revealing her paranoia to her sister. She didn't share her sister's confidence or her impression that things were going to be easy. All she could think about was the letter from before and how today might be the day she answers to the McMasters for it.

"Well, don't let them think that you're thinking that," Alice suggested. "Remember what Madeline said long ago, 'Chins up, smiles on.' Keep that up, and when we get home, I'll turn a blind eye to you heading to Miss Ellison's ranch for those lessons you wanted."

---

[1]: Pampered Prince turned Party Animal (https://forum.thenorthpacific.org/topic/9141989/)

Ambassador Vladimir Sebastev glanced at the old Skorva wrist watch ticking away on his hand, the ceremony felt like some sort of trial by ordeal. A socialist minister from a revolutionary republic he felt distinctly and rather aptly out of place amidst all the pomp and ceremony, a more die-hard socialist would likely have been unable to contain their disgust. Sebastev knew that his somewhat liberal understanding of communism had likely been cause for this unusual posting, a sort of gilded exile meant to keep him out of trouble he supposed.

The Ambassador's official mission was rather simple,try and promote socialism as humanity's salvation, advertise a few decidedly functional cars and above all else....keep the South Timistanian's from gaining any edge over the republic's spheres of interest. Sebastev sighed

A communist amongst aristocrats, i know nothing about this land or its customs and worse still they don't have any vodka.....a gulag might have been a more reasonable posting.....

seeing the Young Prince's entourage beggining to advance through the crowd like a sea of colourful peacocks Sebastev sighed again more heavily....

His aide, Sarkovsky was carrying the gifts, two fine bottles of vodka from the best distillery in the nation( the only one the party members would drink from anyway) and the complete works of Vasiliev, the famed Timistanian poet whose tales of warring dynasties and religious anguish had thrilled generations....at least that one felt worthy of this place. The aristocrats might have their fine clothes and palaces 'but we have ideas and culture equal to anything here' he thought with a brief smile

Sarkovsky straightened, the old guardsman's instincts kicking in as the Prince drew close, Sarkovsky grasped the gifts a little tighter...likely wishing he was still carrying a rifle and fighting more direct battles....

'come Sarkov,time to put the social in socialism' he said without enthusiasm

At least the weather was warm.

She had attended many formal events in her time as Queen-Empress of the Lancerian Empire, and all of the most important and the most delicate had found adviser, then Prime Minister in his own right, Isaac Oudinot at her side. He had become almost a second father figure. Problems of politics had been solved at least partially together since Amelia's own father had been assassinated before the reunification two decades earlier.

But as much as the now-elderly Prime Minister remained a strong leader, he was not as invincible as he once was. Illness placed him in bed back in Saint-Cyr, attended to by fine Lancerian physicians, while Amelia attended the ascension of Richard to the throne.

A part of her was proud, her role in protecting Richard through hadn't been a small one, but Richard had kept his head high enough and he had pushed through to be here today. That was nothing small to ask of a young boy destined for a turbulent throne whether he liked it or not and now here he was rising to the task of taking it.

The rest of her wished she wasn't here. Her role in making this event happen hadn't been a small one. McMasterdonia had been a good ally for as long as she could remember and well beyond that, the Empire wouldn't exist had it not been for the efforts of the family that housed them in exile. But for Richard to ascend unobstructed she had broken personal promises, crossed lines she had sworn never to. One had died somewhere in the pretty courtyard she now stood in. It left a sour taste in her mouth and she wished Oudinot was here. Nonetheless, she told herself, we'll put on a brave face and this too shall pass.

Ouestal, Ponterre
21st of March, 2019

Gautier Courbet came knocked on the Queen’s door to bring a letter. She allowed him in, and she opened the door. He bowed before her, as was custom. Natalie rolled her eyes yet again, as she thought it ridiculous that everyone she met had to bow down to her.

“This morning I received a letter via La Royale Poste which came from McMasterdonia. Prince Richard of the McMasterdonian Kingdom has invited you to an Ascension Festival to celebrate the King’s 18th birthday. Your mother [acting regent] is more than willing to attend this festival with you,” said Gautier. Since taking the throne just over a month earlier, she had never left Ponterre and had only been outside her home nation a few times in her life. “Many other leaders will be present, it will be a good opportunity to introduce yourself to some of your counterparts from around the globe.”

“Oh sure, I’d love to attend. I’ve never been to Kian before, and I agree that this will be a great opportunity to speak to other heads of state in person. As far as I am aware, there is nothing which would prevent me from attending, so sign me up.” Gaudier nodded and bowed once again before leaving the room. He took out his mobile device and use the government’s private computer program to make other officials aware of her decision to go to the festival.

As the state car wound its way towards the grounds of Isebella Castle Secundus took in the spectacular views of rolling hills, verdant trees and ancient McMasterdonian ruins with detached interest. He had never visited this part of McMasterdonia before and whilst its ancient history normally would have fascinated him, Secundus remain preoccupied with the event which lay ahead. It was exceedingly rare that one of the Majestic Twelve would attend an event such as this in person. As there were so few in the world who knew their real identies, it was incredibly easy to send an suitable representative on their behalf who could act, for all intents and purposes, as one of them. On this occasion it was deemed appropriate for a Councillor to attend, McMasterdonia remained a powerful nation, economically important to their interests and was practically a neighbour of Haor Chall. However, Secundus had his own reasons for attending in person.

As the car ground to a halt, a Secret Service agent moved swiftly to open the car door. Slightly self-consciously Secundus brushes his robes before he stepped out of the car and made his way into the party…



Secundus, Councillor of the Majestic Twelve


+++


“… and so that’s when I said, ‘You can sink them if you must, just leave the lawyers onboard first!’ ” finished Augustin Kiesel, with a deep chuckle. Polite laughter rippled around the small group of business leaders and dignitaries stood nearby. The CEO of Haor Chall Engineering, he had taken the opportunity of an invitation sent to a McMasterdonian subsidiary to attend the event himself. Dressed in an expensive suit, and with silver cufflinks fashioned in the design of his company logo, he was every bit the stereotypical Charrian business leader.

Taking a sip of his drink he stepped closer to one of the senior McMasterdonia businessmen who had been listening. “Seriously though, much as I hate to talk business at a party as magnificent as this, I think some of our new maritime expansions present some mutually beneficial opportunities for us. We can discuss that later, if you are interested.” he said with a smile and a nod, before heading away towards one of the many buffet tables. Not only were parties like these a rare chance to cultivate useful business leads he thought, but the food was always superb.



Augustin Kiesel, CEO Haor Chall Engineering

Curtains on the embassy's rooftop pergola rippled in the gentle morning breeze as the royal family ate their breakfast. The sun peeking over the horizon began to warm the colors of the castle and the city below. The Tsar sat in a comfortable cushioned wicker-work rocking chair beside his wife. Taking in the view of Isabella Castle a short distance away they read and chatted about the morning's briefing. On a small table between them a traditional breakfast spread, this morning it was croissants with cloudberry jam and butter, assorted berries, yogurt, juices, and a few local choices. He was glad the civil war was over and they'd be free to visit McMasterdonia once again, something the family missed as they had enjoyed the occasional visit. Making up for lost time, they'd arrived a few days early to see what had become of the nation since.

Noticing the sun creeping further into the sky, the Tsar checked his watch and taking off his reading glasses placed them and some papers he's been reading on the table next to him. "I have a few things to attend to before we take off for the festivities today, I'll be down in the office if you need me, dear," he said looking over at his wife. As he got up he leaned over and gave her a kiss before heading inside.

The grandfather clock sitting in the corner of the office chimed the hour, it was time to get ready for the day's events. 'Already?' Quickly reading through the tail end of the documents he grabbed his fountain pen and with a light swish, he added his signature and flipped the leather folder closed. Handing it to one of the men sitting across from him he remarked, "After you get those filed, unless there is some pressing matter, why don't you boys tell your staff to take the rest of the day off, I'm sure there will be plenty of celebrations out and about in Intelligentisa tonight and no reason everyone should miss out. There is always tomorrow." With a slight nod, one of the men responded back, 'Thank you sir, and have a great night as well.'

Making his way to the residential quarters he could see the staff bustling about helping the family get everything just right. Trays of jewelry headed in one direction, medals and regalia pieces in another, silks and exotic fresh cut boutineers being prepared on side tables, just some of the sights, all like clockwork. Each servant slipped past another with perfect synchronicity as though choreographed. Harold passing through the middle of them headed for his room to change, and like water, they flowed perfectly around him. His formal white tie attire prepared for him by his majordomo, Alfred. 'Shall we begin,' and without a word, taking body language cues Alfred motioned to the servants '...very good sir.'

The family filed into the waiting cars of the motorcade, which had been freshly detailed to a high gloss, each vehicle sporting the familiar blue and white flag of Ceretis. Passing through the city toward the palace they spotted here and there the signs that the night's mirth making had already started among the people of Intelligentisa. At the foot of the entrance the vehicles stopped, guards and personnel positioned themselves to meet the latest guests. With a crisp motion, Musketeers opened the doors and the family proceeded inside the stately garden palace to meet their hosts.

The Prince had spent weeks preparing for his pilgrimage across his Kingdom. A tradition of old, unchanged for centuries. Before too long he would retrieve the Sword of Kian from the Sept of Flemingovia and greet his Kingsguard, the final step before the coronation. But for now. A party.


As he adjusted his tie, he could hear the slow methodical thuds of his Grandmother approaching with his Chancellor. No doubt, with some final ounce of wisdom to impart. Or perhaps even a scolding, if he were so lucky.


Amira or as she was famously known today, “The Queen Mother” wore a dark navy gown upon which her auburn hair cascaded down, cradled in its place by a sapphire jewelled tiara. A throwback to a bygone era. The Chancellor, Jessica Whitwell, wore a long sleeve silver gown and a pair of heels that made her even more of a statuesque figure that usual.


“It is time, my Prince” Amira said as she lightly brushed her hand across Richard’s shoulder “You go out there one final time a Prince, and tomorrow you return a King.”


The trio took the short walk to the door, promptly opened by a member of the Queensguard, they stepped out upon the great balcony.


“Ladies and Gentlemen, I present Prince Richard, who today celebrates his 18th birthday!” Amira announced to the assembled crowd “Tomorrow, Prince Richard will be declared King of the McMasterdonians. Today, let us celebrate our renewal. A chance for a new beginning.”


The Prince didn’t listen to a single word of his Grandmother’s speech - for he was busy surveying the crowd. She had to be here - he knew that much. She had promised him that she would come.


But alas, before he could find her, the Queen Mother had wrapped up her speech and abruptly shoved him towards the stares and the hundreds of awaiting guests.

Loz:

Prince Nurendír Hadn't been to Kian in some time, but he was excited to be returning as a representative of his Empire. He was doubly excited to be witnessing the end of the McMasterdonian civil war, and the ascension of Richard to the throne. The Crown of Alnaria followed the goings on of other Royal Families closely, and the to see the House of McMaster survive such a trial was a great relief to the Emperor.


Isabella was a welcome sight to Nurendír and as his car drove through the streets he could not help but marvel at some of the sights. McMasterdonia was as ancient as Alnaria and the vestiges of the Kianese Empire in this city were a wonder to behold. He knew many of the other invited guests would be attending the celebration, but he had made a point to himself of staying to witnessing the coronation. As a military man and as a royal, Nurendír understood the importance of such ceremonies and the bond witnessing such a thing could bring. His goal was ultimately to befriend the young King before returning to Alnaria, as he knew all to well the struggles of being a young player in an old game. He in fact had several young Monarchs he wished to meet, including King Tobias of Prydania, and Queen Alyica of Norsia. For now however he would meet soon-to-be King Richard, and attend what should be quite the party, and that was more than enough.

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Next, the Prince and the Queen Mother spotted Prince Nurendir. The Prince was eager to meet a fellow young royal - for much of his day was spent dealing with the more elderly members of his family, middle-aged bureaucrats, or military generals who cared little for the thoughts of those a third their age.


Extending his hand once again, Prince Richard greeted Prince Nurendir “Welcome to Kian and to McMasterdonia - I hope you have found our home as welcoming as it is beautiful?”

Prydania:

Isabella radiated. The shapes and colours were unique...far different from Craviter or Gothis. It even contrasted with the sights of Icena. Merilia and the VF had reflected their locales, but they were still grounded in the world Tobias knew.


Kian though...Kian was different. And more than just Kian. This wasn't an outpost of the old Ceretian or Syrixian empires. This was Isabella, McMasterdonia. Proper Kian. A far-off corner of the world that radiated exotic stories and fed the imagination of Tobias as a child.


The wonder of the sites he saw from the car had distracted him from why he was here. Richard's coronation. It wasn't so long ago that he was where the Prince, now King, was. A new king, an end to civil war. He hoped to meet the new monarch. There were matters to attend to of course, but above all it was a show of friendship and solidarity. A sign that he intended to support this new King and his government against the tyranny that had threatened the McMaster realm.


"A party" said to himself as he continued to catch glimpses of buildings that could very well have predated Prydania itself.

Thankfully he'd be better suited for it...literally. He'd have torn his hair out if he had to wear that red jacket/black trouser military outfit again. Blah blah blah tradition...he'd finally put his foot down. Besides. It's not like the white tie formal outfit he'd opted for was unacceptable. He was in a tailcoat for crying out loud! He wasn't a solider anyway. Best to leave the old military getup for the ceremonies back home.


"Yes, a party Toby" Rylond Jórvík responded, snapping the Prydanian King out of his thoughts.

"Hope you're up to it" the son of the Thane of Jórvík responded with a smile.


"And why wouldn't I be?" Tobias asked.

"Don't think I'm up to teaching these southerners about holding their liquor?"


"Well you're with Her Grace down in Norsia, yeah?" Rylond replied.


"Yes, and?"


"Well that means you're not going to be able to enjoy the Kianese ladies like I'll be." Rylond's grin grew, far too excited for his own good.


Tobias just chuckled.

"Just don't make too much of a scene." He wasn't too worried. Rylond wasn't nearly the frat boy he carried himself as. Regardless? He wanted him here, having convinced him to take a few days off of his E-Series prep with MM Taurínmáttur. He didn't get to spend as much time with his best friend as he'd like to these days.


"Don't worry about me, you do your King thing, with all the other important people. I'll make due" the Thane's son chuckled.


Tobias nodded back, continuing to watch the scenes of Isabella pass him by as his car approached the Castle.

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While the Queen Mother and the Prince Richard were distracted mingling within the party, Whitwell went to the entrance of the Castle to greet the guests as they arrived. Pausing for just a moment, she lit a cigarette and took three drags before hastily discarding it in the nearby garden. The Queen Mother would not approve of anyone smoking.


Jessica saw young King Tobias escort his vehicle outside the castle gates. Now that was a King - the kind of King she hoped that Richard would become.


“Your Majesty” Jessica called “Welcome to McMasterdonia!”

plembobria:

Maria gazed out the window of the state car as they rounded the final corner headed to Isabella Castle, trying to tune out the endless prattling of her unappointed private secretary Diana. For the entirety of the trip here (motorcade from the palace to the airport through throngs of onlookers and paparazzi, three hour flight from Rethel to Intelligentsia, and again a motorcade ride) this woman had talked and talked about the impression Maria must make. The importance of it all. Proper diplomatic decorum, and so on and so on.


"Remember, Your Majesty, the Prime Minister is not attending today, so it's upon you to represent...."


"The Prime Minister." For her entire life, as long as she could remember. Her mother had time and again reminded her it was the Queen's job to drive her vision for the nation forward. And it was the duty of the ministers to help. "Remember, we're the ones who the people look to to lead them," she would say. Then there was the accident. (Or so it was reported.) And since then every few months there was another pretender in the palace telling her brother precisely what he intended to do and how it was her brother's duty to assent without question! Until he just gave up, of course.


And now here she was. Her Majesty Maria the Second riding in a state car to see her old bothersome cousin, His Majesty King Richard. How so much had changed. Likely, neither of them knew just what their places were in these new lives they had entered. Maria certainly didn't.


The motorcade slowed to a halt. They had arrived. As a uniformed officer of the Royal Guard made his way out of the rear vehicle and prepared to open the door. Diana made one final admonition, "Your Majesty, since what happened to your mother, the crown has been declining. You're the last chance to save this institution. Please do not take this lightly."


As the queen got out of the vehicle she locked eyes with Count Gregor -- her father. She shuddered. She had not seen him for more than two years. How would she even address him? Nervously, but without thinking, she made her way towards the only person in this room she was actually knew.

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The Count Gregor, now an old man who had aged terribly as a result of the McMasterdonian Civil War, was very eager to see his daughter - the now Queen. The Count thought highly of his daughter when she was a child. She was bolder, stronger, more assertive than her brother. However as she had aged, with no purpose, her time had filled with trivial pursuits of beauty, fame and notoriety on the internet.


Still there was hope for Queen Maria - for the Kingdom of Plembobria and for the future of McMasterdonia. The two royal houses had long been interwoven, with Richard arguably the strongest successor to the childless Maria. Likewise, Maria had a strong claim to Richard’s throne should he follow recent history and leave the throne before his time should have come. This posed an interesting problem, but of course, the Count and the Queen Mother had the solution. Richard and Maria were both young. They could produce a strong heir if the match was agreeable. If it was agreeable. The Count was not likely to force his daughter to marry someone she did not wish to do so. However, he was certain Amira would be far less forgiving of the young King’s desires.


“My Queen” Count Gregor said as he bowed politely before his daughter. “There is much we must discuss - we need to strengthen your throne and the future.”


“We have not seen each other in two years and already you are exercising control over my life” Maria retorted “You forget your place, Father, I am the Queen now and will not be controlled”.


The Count shook his head. She had not changed at all. “This is not about my control. Richard is young, malleable, a very suitable match for you and is currently the likely heir to your throne. You are a strong and beautiful woman. You must marry Richard. Solidify your rule and your position in history.”


Maria could not hide her shock at the suggestion “Marry my cousin? Are you mad? Imagine the scandal this will cause on fluttr”.


“Such scandals are beneath you. The hardest battle has already been won, Amira has consented to the match. You must simply now make your move for Richard. This will give you more power and authority than you can possibly imagine.”


“Let us discuss this after the ceremony. I will hear no more of it for now” Maria responded.

Syrixia:

Perched atop a high hill surrounded by verdant trees and ancient ruins the likes of which rivalled such ancient cities as Kazagham and Akshak lay Isabella Castle, ancient seat of the House of McMaster, one of the world's greatest houses alongside the likes of the Severyns, Kjellse-Tageses, and, of course, his own. Rajesh breathed in the crisp southern air surrounding the imposing structure as he was escorted to the gates of the castle, flanked by three Sentinels.


The Emperor pondered his surroundings. Ancient gardens held trees and bushes old and new, amongst statues sculpted by those whose hands likely had not touched them in hundreds or even thousands of years. Tan-colored buildings rose up within the castle complex, topped with barreled roofs and ringed with exquisite glass windows. This was undoubtedly a summer palace, and one to rival even the likes of Gharmi Sampat.


"Another big fat gala." he thought to himself. Of course, this wasn't a problem for him- he was very much a fan of conversing with people from all across the globe. Through politics, his beloved historical studies came to life, and he was able to write history of his own. His name would be in history books read by millions. And so he continued to think.


Earlier this same year he had visited the Vestrugat to attend a wedding, and had made some important conversations. Now, he was here, in McMasterdonia, attending a coronation that would finally bookend the McMasterdonian Civil War, and ensure that Krevt wasn't the only strong and stable Imperial ally on the Kianese continent. In just a month he would celebrate perhaps the gala of his life- the two thousand year anniversary of the Empire, coinciding with the annual Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting.


However, as the Emperor continued into the castle complex to where the others were, he did not do so alone. With him and his Sentinels was Princess Indira, his niece; the daughter of his younger brother, Prince Rahul. She was not important politically, but she was there nonetheless, because there was someone very important at the gala she had come to see.

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While the arrival of the Emperor and his entourage was a sight to behold, the young Prince had only eyes for the Princess Indira. He thought of her often and of the short periods of time they had been able to spend together during. While Richard was not able to reach her immediately before the ceremony, he had dispatched his cousin, Princess Fatima to provide her with a small gift.


Princess Fatima greeted the Emperor and his entourage with a curtsy and thanked them for attending. “The Prince has requested an audience to discuss a matter of state, after the ceremony, once he is King” the Princess said.


Princess Fatima handed the Princess Indira a small box, inside it was a beautiful necklace of sapphires that was handcrafted by artisans in Ghavaria.


Overhead on the terrace, the Prince was watching Princess Fatima when he was disturbed by his Grandmother. “Who are you staring at” she asked accusingly.


“My future Queen. Grandmother, I have been meaning to discuss this with you. Once I am King, I intend to ask for Princess Indira’s hand in marriage. I truly love -”


“That cannot happen” interrupted Amira angrily. “Such a match would not be possible. You must marry as is requested of you, not for personal feelings. It is not for you to decide.”


“I have already decided. I will not be swayed on this topic.”


“It cannot happen. You will lose the support of the family if you go ahead with this. Such support is crucial for your rule to be stable and accepted.” Amira said forcefully.


“I will ask the Senate to recall the powers afforded to the wider royal family. It is archaic and limiting on my ability to rule successfully” Richard replied


“That is simply not ---”


“It is my decision. I have no need for their counsel or control. I will hear no more of this until after the coronation.”

The Coronation​

The party was over and the guests had returned to their lodgings to rest.


The next day, all began to pour into the Hall of Kian, where the ceremony was to take place. Adorned with statues of all of the greatest Kianese Emperors, Empresses and notable historial figures of the ancient family.


With the guests had been greeted, assembled, and seated where they were supposed to be. It was time for the ceremony to begin. The bells of the great tower of the Castle began to ring, the signal for all guests to rise as the King entered the hall.


The Archbishop of Isabella, the Chancellor, and the Queen Mother entered from the three sides of the northern section of the hall.


As they entered, Richard approached the throne, before turning to face all four sides of the assembled crowds - representing the North, East, South, and West of his vast territories and peoples.


The Archbishop called out across the crowd:


“My Lords, I here present to you, Richard, Prince of McMasterdonia, to be proclaimed today, your undoubted King and Sovereign. My Prince, declare your sovereign name before the assembled peoples.”


“Darius” called the Prince, his final act before being declared the King.


“The people assembled signify their willingness and joy, by acclamation, as their King and Sovereign”


“Long live King Darius” the crowd called out, repeating it three times.


As the shouts died down, the new King sat in his throne for the first time.


“Sir, is your majesty willing to take the Oath?” the Archbishop called


“I am” Darius replied.


“Will you promise and swear to reign over the Kingdom of McMasterdonia, its people, territories, possessions, for as long as you shall live?


“I will”


“Will you exercise your power with justice, mercy, and law in your heart in all matters?”


“I will”


“Will you maintain the Laws of Flemingovia and the true interpretation of Flemingovianism?


Will you to the utmost of your power maintain in the Kingdom the Church of Flemingovia as established by law?


Will you maintain and preserve inviolably the precedence given to the Archbishopric of Isabella in matters of Flemingovianism?”


“All this I promise to do” King Darius replied.


The new King then rises out of the throne and is provided with the Sword of Kian, used by Emperor Kian I in his battles across Meterra and Kian in the establishment of the Empire, the orb of Isabella, and declares “The things I have promised, I will perform, so help me Flemingovia”. The King then kisses the book of flemingovia and signs the oath before returning to the Throne.


The people assembled then rise, while the Archbishop stands before the Altar and takes the crown into his hands, he reverently places it upon the King’s head. With this complete, the audience again chanted three times “Long live the King”.


With the ceremony completed, the now King Darius descends from his throne crowned and carrying the sword of Kian and the orb of Isabella. The King passes by the altar before turning through the middle of the assembled guests, and exiting through the south door onto the grand porch.


The new King is proclaimed “King of the McMasterdonians” before the hundreds of thousands of residents who had stayed out overnight to wait for the coronation and were now peering up towards the great porch.


“Long live the King!”