Grand Emperor Anthony sat in the privy council chamber at Tageskiele. The room had white walls, with reddish-orange columns and brown carpets. Three gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, but their efforts were being beaten by the golden orange sunset light pouring in through the big wood-framed windows on one side of the room. With him was Prime Minister Jon Norberg, Foreign Minister Ken Lorge, and Privy Councillor for Foreign Affairs Hans Overgard. They sat at one corner of the conference table. It was modern and corporate, and looked out of place in the classical room.
In the back corner of the room was the stenographer. She was an older woman in her sixties with thick and curly silver hair. It was a constitutional requirement that a log be kept of the Privy Council sessions, and this was how they did it. She always sat there, quietly clacking away as the members deliberated. She didn’t say much, but she was beloved by the council and the palace staff. They always rewarded her with Christmas bonuses and birthday gifts.
“So Jon,” he paused, a slightly worried expression on his face was noticeable. “I think we should move forward with this. After all, it’s about time that we make greater movements in this.”
Jon looked at Anthony. “I think we have to do it. And if we’re going to do it we can’t go half-assed about it.” He looked around at the three other men. “We need to go all in.”
Ken cleared his throat. “Hans, Jon and I have looked at all the relevant information. We’ve spoken with every minister and department chair.” He reshuffled his papers. “I think we’re ready to go on this.”
Hans nodded in agreement without saying a word. He was a more timid man, and while not making his opinions known more publicly, everybody knew what he wanted.
Anthony sighed and looked around. It was a tough decision, but they did everything they could and made an educated and proper decision based on the facts they could get.
“Alright. I’ll have my household secretary send it out. Meeting adjourned.”
Everybody except Hans nodded, stood up, bowed and left the chamber. The stenographer quietly took the memory chip out of the stenograph machine, put it into an envelope marked “CLASSIFIED” and was leaving the room to give the memory card to the Household Secretary as usual when Anthony interrupted.
“Thank you again Jena, great work as usual. Say hello to Freidrik for me.” Jena, gave back a warm smile and said “Yes, my lord. Will do.”
Anthony looked at Hans. Hans stood up. In a much lower voice, he began “we must be very careful with how we go about this, my lord.” He sighed. “The McMasterdonians and Midraneans are a stubborn people, and Sutherland is still not widely recognized, at all.” Hans put special emphasis on the “at all.”
Hans was right, Anthony thought to himself. No international issue had been keeping Anthony up at night this much since when Ascalon was given independence. There was much to lose. International prestige, diplomatic relations, economic standing. The list went on and on.
Anthony looked at him in the eyes. “I will ensure that every step of this process is managed correctly Hans. You will be there every step of the way”
“Thank you, my lord.” Hans bowed and made his way out of the chamber and out of the palace. His driver was waiting for him by the front gate.
Anthony walked over to the household secretary’s office. The office had a window view of the driveway and the bridge to the Tageskiele district of the city. The Secretary, Klaus, wasn’t in the office, but in the backroom filing paperwork. Anthony was never the intrusive type, so he patiently waited for him. Looking out the window, he saw Hans being driven away and the stenographer, Jena, getting into her husband’s car.
Klaus walked into his office, and bowed. “I’m sorry for not attending to you immediately, my lord. What can I do for you?”
Anthony dismissed his apology. “Don’t worry about it, we all have work to do here.” He chuckled for a second. You wouldn’t happen to have that invitation for the Arc-Wondress, do you?”
Minister Lorge sent it to me this morning. Just one minute. He opened a file on his black Polykor laptop. It was a standard government-issue work computer. “Aha, yes. Would you like me to send it, my lord?”
“Yes,” said Anthony, “have it go through the Embassy though. I want it hand-delivered.”
“Yes my lord, it will be done.”
“Thank you as always Klaus.”
Anthony left the secretary’s office and made his way to the Imperial Apartment. His girls were finished with their homework, and were playing a video game on the TV in the living room. Empress-Consort Claire was reading on the recliner when he walked in. “Long day,” she asked.
“Yep,” Anthony responded as he kissed her.
Klaus printed the invitation on the nicest cardstock available to the palace, and had it placed in a diplomatic pouch on the next Luftreederei flight to Arch-Centre. From there, Ambassador Klein would hand-deliver it to Nathan Jarreau, the Arc-Wonderess of Sutherland.
In the back corner of the room was the stenographer. She was an older woman in her sixties with thick and curly silver hair. It was a constitutional requirement that a log be kept of the Privy Council sessions, and this was how they did it. She always sat there, quietly clacking away as the members deliberated. She didn’t say much, but she was beloved by the council and the palace staff. They always rewarded her with Christmas bonuses and birthday gifts.
“So Jon,” he paused, a slightly worried expression on his face was noticeable. “I think we should move forward with this. After all, it’s about time that we make greater movements in this.”
Jon looked at Anthony. “I think we have to do it. And if we’re going to do it we can’t go half-assed about it.” He looked around at the three other men. “We need to go all in.”
Ken cleared his throat. “Hans, Jon and I have looked at all the relevant information. We’ve spoken with every minister and department chair.” He reshuffled his papers. “I think we’re ready to go on this.”
Hans nodded in agreement without saying a word. He was a more timid man, and while not making his opinions known more publicly, everybody knew what he wanted.
Anthony sighed and looked around. It was a tough decision, but they did everything they could and made an educated and proper decision based on the facts they could get.
“Alright. I’ll have my household secretary send it out. Meeting adjourned.”
Everybody except Hans nodded, stood up, bowed and left the chamber. The stenographer quietly took the memory chip out of the stenograph machine, put it into an envelope marked “CLASSIFIED” and was leaving the room to give the memory card to the Household Secretary as usual when Anthony interrupted.
“Thank you again Jena, great work as usual. Say hello to Freidrik for me.” Jena, gave back a warm smile and said “Yes, my lord. Will do.”
Anthony looked at Hans. Hans stood up. In a much lower voice, he began “we must be very careful with how we go about this, my lord.” He sighed. “The McMasterdonians and Midraneans are a stubborn people, and Sutherland is still not widely recognized, at all.” Hans put special emphasis on the “at all.”
Hans was right, Anthony thought to himself. No international issue had been keeping Anthony up at night this much since when Ascalon was given independence. There was much to lose. International prestige, diplomatic relations, economic standing. The list went on and on.
Anthony looked at him in the eyes. “I will ensure that every step of this process is managed correctly Hans. You will be there every step of the way”
“Thank you, my lord.” Hans bowed and made his way out of the chamber and out of the palace. His driver was waiting for him by the front gate.
Anthony walked over to the household secretary’s office. The office had a window view of the driveway and the bridge to the Tageskiele district of the city. The Secretary, Klaus, wasn’t in the office, but in the backroom filing paperwork. Anthony was never the intrusive type, so he patiently waited for him. Looking out the window, he saw Hans being driven away and the stenographer, Jena, getting into her husband’s car.
Klaus walked into his office, and bowed. “I’m sorry for not attending to you immediately, my lord. What can I do for you?”
Anthony dismissed his apology. “Don’t worry about it, we all have work to do here.” He chuckled for a second. You wouldn’t happen to have that invitation for the Arc-Wondress, do you?”
Minister Lorge sent it to me this morning. Just one minute. He opened a file on his black Polykor laptop. It was a standard government-issue work computer. “Aha, yes. Would you like me to send it, my lord?”
“Yes,” said Anthony, “have it go through the Embassy though. I want it hand-delivered.”
“Yes my lord, it will be done.”
“Thank you as always Klaus.”
Anthony left the secretary’s office and made his way to the Imperial Apartment. His girls were finished with their homework, and were playing a video game on the TV in the living room. Empress-Consort Claire was reading on the recliner when he walked in. “Long day,” she asked.
“Yep,” Anthony responded as he kissed her.
Klaus printed the invitation on the nicest cardstock available to the palace, and had it placed in a diplomatic pouch on the next Luftreederei flight to Arch-Centre. From there, Ambassador Klein would hand-deliver it to Nathan Jarreau, the Arc-Wonderess of Sutherland.
