(this thread will start with the coronation of Robert IX, but will eventually have other events)
Trebizond
Château de Girène
May 10, 2025
It wasn't cold, but it's certainly not warm. This phrase could be used to describe the weather in Kammark's capital, Trebizond, year round. This cold was very much amplified by the medieval walls of the Chateau de Girene, the official seat of the Commonwealth Diet.
The previous King, Augustin Alfred I, had drowned while on a hunting trip just two weeks ago, at the age of 33, leaving his son Robert, just barely 17, as the next King with absolute rule over the country. This young man now stood in front of the Commonwealth Diet, waiting to be confirmed as the next monarch. The Diet sat in something like the nave of a church - a table in the middle of an empty hall lit only by candles where one could fit 50 such tables, adding to the sense of unimportance in the young man.
The first to speak after Robert's entry into the hall was the Magistrate of the Diet, Mihkel Allik, who stood up from his ornate seat with a tablet in his hand and a speech opened in its notes. "My Lord! After short deliberations and a vote, this Diet of the Commonwealth of Kammark has confirmed you as our new King, in accordance with our laws of succession. What do you wish to be known as?"
Allik was confident, his grey whiskers and hair barely moved as his powerful voice filled the hall, echoing off the walls - almost a complete mirror image of Robert. The new King looked to his chamberlain, who gave him a nod of approval. "I have chosen the name, uhh..." An uncomfortable silence lasting a few seconds ensued. Robert's voice turned meek, "The name Robert the Ninth."
Mihkel smiled, though it wasn't obvious to anyone due to his chaotic facial hair arrangements. "Therefore I do congratulate you, King Robert, and officially ask you to begin preparations for your coronation, for which this Diet has allocated 5 million kronor."
Though Robert's clothing was thick and woolen and there were several layers of it, he felt cold sweat developing. "Thank you, Magistrate, and the blessings of Jesus be with you today." That was all he managed to get out of his mouth before he had to turn around and rush out of the hall (which he managed to pull off in a regal manner), lest he faint then and there. He had been so sheltered that being in the presence of such people made him absolutely terrified.
Mihkel sat back down and took a good look at his fellow Nobles before speaking. "Well, gentlemen, what are your impressions of our new King? Seemed quite... twitchy to me." His manner of speaking had switched from the respect he had shown to the King to now a smirking ego-centrism.
His comrade from the House of Erenfried, Lauro Erenfried, smiled weakly. "And you'll, of course, be taking advantage of this. Don't mess with him like you did with the late Augustin, blessings upon him and his heirs. I know all about your web of informers and innocent teachers and carers around our King."
"Do you? I'm simply trying to do what's best for His Majesty and for our noble Commonwealth. He is.. immature, incomplete, one might say. I am... providing a guiding hand, something someone like you might appreciate if you were in our King's place."
Mihkel words provoked approving nods from around a third of the other fiefs and their first-borns around the dense pine meeting table.
"Some would say that the King is a lot more mature and competent than you give him credit for. I will remind you, my Magistrate, that lese-majeste is still a capital crime." He did not voice it, but his whole manner of speaking showed that he had nothing but contempt for Allik and his entire House.
A tense silence lasting half a minute ensued, during which the two of them exchanged glares. "I suggest, Magistrate," another Noble spoke up, who was no more than 50, "that we end proceedings for the day. We all have celebrations to whose planning we must attend to."
Allik, called Old Rug Rat behind his back, did not break his intense stare at Erenfried's freckled face. He simply said, "Agreed," and banged with the gavel. The Nobles exited the chamber in silence.
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Trebizond
Trebizond Citadel
An hour later
Robert was lounging in a chair in his library, his mind a swirling mass of thoughts. Everything that had been happening in the past few weeks had been too much for the sheltered, let's face the facts, kid. He had been sitting and blankly staring at the shelves, a cigarette butt in his hands which his lips hadn't touched even once. The bells of the Royal Chapel had been ringing for the past 5 minutes, calling the Royal Family to evening prayer - Robert hadn't noticed them.
The young King didn't even notice his old maid, Marie Delacroix, enter and approach him. "Rob, you should get to evening prayers, you know how Father Sylvester gets when you don't come. I don't think you've even been in the Chapel since your father, bless his memory and his heirs, passed away." She was dressed simply, on account of being a Commoner, in heavy contrast to the newest foreign fashions worn by Robert.
He blinked a few times in quick succession and picked up his phone, checking the time. 30 minutes had gone by, they felt like 30 seconds. "Plea... Don't call me that, Marie. I'm not the Prince Royal anymore, I'm King. I just need some alone time right now, time to think and decide what to do."
"What you need, Robert, is to get off your regal behind and start doing something." Marie had been taking care of him since his baptism and knew that she could scold him if needed. "You're in a library, read the Lives of Saints, anything! My father also died and what helped me was moving on. And yes, you ARE King - the single most powerful person in Kammark. You can do anything and you choose to do nothing, withering away in here." She was a second mother to him, but with both his parents so often away, she had often been the closest thing to a parent.
Robert remained calm. "Your father wasn't that single most powerful person in Kammark, whose place you've just suddenly had to take, now was he?" He murmured, remaining still as a statue. His morbid stupor was, once again, disturbed by someone entering and beginning to talk with him.
This time it was the Royal Guard, who had just been outside the door. "Your Highness, the Marquess of Erenfried has arrived and wishes to see you."
Robert looked up with confusion in his face. "What does he want?"
"He wishes to discuss the coronation, sir." The Guard wasn't used to talking with the monarch, it immediately made him uncomfortable.
He turned his gaze forward again, his mind blank for a few seconds. "Send him in." Too late did he realise that he had given this order while wearing a t-shirt, sweater and wide jeans, something very unbefitting a King. No matter.
The Marquess entered, looking considerably more regal than a literal King - full dress civil uniform and cape going to his ankles. He adjusted his ginger hair as he walked from the door to where Robert IX was sat. "Your Highness, I wish to discuss the guest list for your coronation." He stumbled briefly as he noticed what his monarch was wearing. "I assume you wish to invite the standard - kings, queens, heirs to the throne and Messianist leaders?"
Robert slowly stood up and mashed the cigarette butt into the ashtray for no apparent reason (there had been no ash on it for at least 20 minutes) and took a few steps closer to the map of Eras hanging on the library wall. "I was also considering... presidents and prime ministers. Yes. Invite those too." He took another cigarette as he walked and lit, this time taking several elongated puffs.
Lauro was left ever so slightly stunned by this - inviting people from non-monarchical countries to coronations was a major taboo, it had only been done twice before and then it had been for purely for political reasons. "Are.. you sure, sir? This breaks precedent and the Diet," he was thinking only of Allik as he said this, "might not approve." He didn't allow his concern to show, he knew that Robert was already enough pressure as it was, but it was there, inside him.
"Then if they object," Robert turned around and looked Erenfried straight in the eyes, "that they are invited because Robert the Ninth Dei Gratia has decreed it and their objections are denied. After all, I'm King, aren't I?"
Trebizond
Château de Girène
May 10, 2025
It wasn't cold, but it's certainly not warm. This phrase could be used to describe the weather in Kammark's capital, Trebizond, year round. This cold was very much amplified by the medieval walls of the Chateau de Girene, the official seat of the Commonwealth Diet.
The previous King, Augustin Alfred I, had drowned while on a hunting trip just two weeks ago, at the age of 33, leaving his son Robert, just barely 17, as the next King with absolute rule over the country. This young man now stood in front of the Commonwealth Diet, waiting to be confirmed as the next monarch. The Diet sat in something like the nave of a church - a table in the middle of an empty hall lit only by candles where one could fit 50 such tables, adding to the sense of unimportance in the young man.
The first to speak after Robert's entry into the hall was the Magistrate of the Diet, Mihkel Allik, who stood up from his ornate seat with a tablet in his hand and a speech opened in its notes. "My Lord! After short deliberations and a vote, this Diet of the Commonwealth of Kammark has confirmed you as our new King, in accordance with our laws of succession. What do you wish to be known as?"
Allik was confident, his grey whiskers and hair barely moved as his powerful voice filled the hall, echoing off the walls - almost a complete mirror image of Robert. The new King looked to his chamberlain, who gave him a nod of approval. "I have chosen the name, uhh..." An uncomfortable silence lasting a few seconds ensued. Robert's voice turned meek, "The name Robert the Ninth."
Mihkel smiled, though it wasn't obvious to anyone due to his chaotic facial hair arrangements. "Therefore I do congratulate you, King Robert, and officially ask you to begin preparations for your coronation, for which this Diet has allocated 5 million kronor."
Though Robert's clothing was thick and woolen and there were several layers of it, he felt cold sweat developing. "Thank you, Magistrate, and the blessings of Jesus be with you today." That was all he managed to get out of his mouth before he had to turn around and rush out of the hall (which he managed to pull off in a regal manner), lest he faint then and there. He had been so sheltered that being in the presence of such people made him absolutely terrified.
Mihkel sat back down and took a good look at his fellow Nobles before speaking. "Well, gentlemen, what are your impressions of our new King? Seemed quite... twitchy to me." His manner of speaking had switched from the respect he had shown to the King to now a smirking ego-centrism.
His comrade from the House of Erenfried, Lauro Erenfried, smiled weakly. "And you'll, of course, be taking advantage of this. Don't mess with him like you did with the late Augustin, blessings upon him and his heirs. I know all about your web of informers and innocent teachers and carers around our King."
"Do you? I'm simply trying to do what's best for His Majesty and for our noble Commonwealth. He is.. immature, incomplete, one might say. I am... providing a guiding hand, something someone like you might appreciate if you were in our King's place."
Mihkel words provoked approving nods from around a third of the other fiefs and their first-borns around the dense pine meeting table.
"Some would say that the King is a lot more mature and competent than you give him credit for. I will remind you, my Magistrate, that lese-majeste is still a capital crime." He did not voice it, but his whole manner of speaking showed that he had nothing but contempt for Allik and his entire House.
A tense silence lasting half a minute ensued, during which the two of them exchanged glares. "I suggest, Magistrate," another Noble spoke up, who was no more than 50, "that we end proceedings for the day. We all have celebrations to whose planning we must attend to."
Allik, called Old Rug Rat behind his back, did not break his intense stare at Erenfried's freckled face. He simply said, "Agreed," and banged with the gavel. The Nobles exited the chamber in silence.
----------------------------------
Trebizond
Trebizond Citadel
An hour later
Robert was lounging in a chair in his library, his mind a swirling mass of thoughts. Everything that had been happening in the past few weeks had been too much for the sheltered, let's face the facts, kid. He had been sitting and blankly staring at the shelves, a cigarette butt in his hands which his lips hadn't touched even once. The bells of the Royal Chapel had been ringing for the past 5 minutes, calling the Royal Family to evening prayer - Robert hadn't noticed them.
The young King didn't even notice his old maid, Marie Delacroix, enter and approach him. "Rob, you should get to evening prayers, you know how Father Sylvester gets when you don't come. I don't think you've even been in the Chapel since your father, bless his memory and his heirs, passed away." She was dressed simply, on account of being a Commoner, in heavy contrast to the newest foreign fashions worn by Robert.
He blinked a few times in quick succession and picked up his phone, checking the time. 30 minutes had gone by, they felt like 30 seconds. "Plea... Don't call me that, Marie. I'm not the Prince Royal anymore, I'm King. I just need some alone time right now, time to think and decide what to do."
"What you need, Robert, is to get off your regal behind and start doing something." Marie had been taking care of him since his baptism and knew that she could scold him if needed. "You're in a library, read the Lives of Saints, anything! My father also died and what helped me was moving on. And yes, you ARE King - the single most powerful person in Kammark. You can do anything and you choose to do nothing, withering away in here." She was a second mother to him, but with both his parents so often away, she had often been the closest thing to a parent.
Robert remained calm. "Your father wasn't that single most powerful person in Kammark, whose place you've just suddenly had to take, now was he?" He murmured, remaining still as a statue. His morbid stupor was, once again, disturbed by someone entering and beginning to talk with him.
This time it was the Royal Guard, who had just been outside the door. "Your Highness, the Marquess of Erenfried has arrived and wishes to see you."
Robert looked up with confusion in his face. "What does he want?"
"He wishes to discuss the coronation, sir." The Guard wasn't used to talking with the monarch, it immediately made him uncomfortable.
He turned his gaze forward again, his mind blank for a few seconds. "Send him in." Too late did he realise that he had given this order while wearing a t-shirt, sweater and wide jeans, something very unbefitting a King. No matter.
The Marquess entered, looking considerably more regal than a literal King - full dress civil uniform and cape going to his ankles. He adjusted his ginger hair as he walked from the door to where Robert IX was sat. "Your Highness, I wish to discuss the guest list for your coronation." He stumbled briefly as he noticed what his monarch was wearing. "I assume you wish to invite the standard - kings, queens, heirs to the throne and Messianist leaders?"
Robert slowly stood up and mashed the cigarette butt into the ashtray for no apparent reason (there had been no ash on it for at least 20 minutes) and took a few steps closer to the map of Eras hanging on the library wall. "I was also considering... presidents and prime ministers. Yes. Invite those too." He took another cigarette as he walked and lit, this time taking several elongated puffs.
Lauro was left ever so slightly stunned by this - inviting people from non-monarchical countries to coronations was a major taboo, it had only been done twice before and then it had been for purely for political reasons. "Are.. you sure, sir? This breaks precedent and the Diet," he was thinking only of Allik as he said this, "might not approve." He didn't allow his concern to show, he knew that Robert was already enough pressure as it was, but it was there, inside him.
"Then if they object," Robert turned around and looked Erenfried straight in the eyes, "that they are invited because Robert the Ninth Dei Gratia has decreed it and their objections are denied. After all, I'm King, aren't I?"
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