An Exile's Ball: Princess Rebecca's 16th Birthday Debutante Ball[All Royal Families Invited]

[Havenshire]

OOC: Some mood music:

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House of de Mortimer-Garland

TO YOUR MAJESTIES OF EUROPE,

You are hereby Cordially invited to attend the sixteenth birthday party and debutante ball of Her Royal Highness Princess Rebecca Garland, Crown Princess and Heir to the Throne of Havenshire. We would be most gratified if you could attend. The Ball is scheduled to begin March 28th, 2012, and will take place at Mortimersburg Palace, Franken between the hours of 7 o'clock evening and 1 o'clock morning, local time. A Full Banquet is planned, as is a formal dance. A strict dress code will naturally be enforced.

We would be most honoured by all who are able to attend, and hope that this event will both be a celebration of a young woman reaching adulthood, and an opportunity to foster closer relations between the royal families of Europe.

We eagerly await your response,

By the Grace of GOD, on behalf of the Commonwealth of Havenshire and the Royal House of De-Mortimer Garland,

Samuel Edwinborn de Mortimer-Garland,
Regent and Prince of Havenshire

OOC: You may RSVP in this thread or via a private message to me if you prefer. You don't have to send your entire royal families or heads of state, but all Princes/Princesses/Dukes/High-ranking nobility are very welcome, as are "honorary" nobility, such as Presidents and their families.

 

[Danmark]

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Kronprinsens Sekretariatet
Karlskrona Slottet, Amaliengade Slotsplads, Christiansborg

HKH Kronprinsen of Danmark wishes to state that he will graciously accept the offer to attend the birthday ball for HRH Crown Princess Rebecca, Heir to the Throne of Havenshire, in Franken in an individual capacity and to cultivate connections between the Danish and Havenist royal families.

Even though debutante balls hold no official recognition in the Danish monarchy and attendance at the ball has no effect on de facto Dano-Havenshirean relations, we hope this is of satisfaction to you.

Yours sincerely,

Birgitte Beauregaard
Principle Private Secretary to HKH Kronprinsen af Danmark, Storhertug af Suðreyjar, Hertug af Færøerne

 

[Wieserreich]

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Kaiserliche und Königliche Haus Thießen
Imperial and Royal House Thießen
​

"Your Princely Grace,

"His Imperial and Royal Majesty Frederich William the Second, Wieser Emperor, King and Prince-Elector of Swabia and Archduke of Saxony, head of the Imperial Household and the Imperial and Royal House of Thießen, sends the best of wishes for the heiress of Mortimer-Garland and the Commonwealth of Havenshire on behalf of the Household and the House. May she live long and prosper, as well as continue to be a shining example to the people who look up to her for guidance and inspiration.

"In light of Her Royal Highness the Crown Princess' eighteenth birthday, His Majesty has instructed me to inform you that the Imperial, Royal and Archducal Household shall be represented by His Highness the Archduke Francis, Her Highness the Archduchess Lena, and Her Highness the Archduchess Eleonore. His Majesty the Wieser Emperor Frederick William and His Majesty the Wieser Emperor-elect Carl humbly pardon their personal absence from the event."

Regards,
Otto Reichsgraf von Baden
Imperial Chancellor

 

[Thaumantica]

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OFFICE FOR HER HIGHNESS
THE QUEEN OF CANTIGNIA
THE QUEEN OF KAROSKLAND
THE DUCHESS OF HAMMERSMITH

His Excellency Maximus Grantley, Baron Grantley of Persephone, Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary From the Royal Court of Vesper
​

THIS TELEGRAM IS DELIVERED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE OCEANIC COVENANT & CROWN

​

Baron Grantley of Persephone to the Regent & Prince of Havenshire, Telegram No. 211, Franken


​

SATURDAY 10, MARCH 2012
ACCEPTANCE OF INVITATION

As the Crimson Queen is so inclined to accept this invitation, Alice of Hammersmith & The Oceanic Realms wishes to express Her gratitude and appreciation of Princess Rebecca, and the Royal Family of Havenshire. Her Highness The Crimson Queen has instructed me to inform the hosting parties that the Queen shall be accompanied by Lord Felix Ilchester, Fmr. Chancellor of The Covenant of Cantignia, and future Earl of Wroxeter.

The Crimson Queen desires to illuminate the profound Royal & Hereditary Value of the Royal Family of De-Mortimer Garland, and most specifically the youthful and vibrant Princess Rebecca on this - Her 16th Birthday. This Office has been implicitly instructed to research and assess the viability of Queen Alice's intent to eventually invite the Royal Princess to Her Highness's Chateau in Persephone, Cantignia to broaden the young Princess's horizons of Greater Europe to include the most enlightened Oceanic Realms.

Forward Cantignia!
Maximus Grantley
Baron of Persephone

 

[Great Engellex]

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DULWICH, SUNDAY, 12th MARCH 2012

The Right Honourable The Secretary of State has received the Command of her Imperial and Royal Engellexic Majesty The Queen-Empress
to make known the following gracious Statement of her Imperial and Royal Engellexic Majesty
to the Regent and Prince of Havenshire.​

An Extension of The Queen-Empress' Statement in Council.

TO THE REGENT AND PRINCE OF HAVENSHIRE​

I am instructed to EXPRESS on behalf of her Imperial and Royal Engellexic Majesty;

The Royal and Imperial House of Cavendish-Bentinck, graced by the leadership of her Royal and Imperial Majesty the Queen-Empress, is one of great seniority within Europe; unfortunately no representation of significant remark shall be afforded the entry of her Royal Highness the Crown Princess Rebecca Garland into society.

Her Majesty the Queen-Empress Charlotte of the Empire of Great Engellex has been seen to be quite indulgent as to not condemn outright the ignorance and naivety of such a young and impressionable mind, but cannot be so inclined as to partake in a celebration of an individual that found agreement and felt the need to encourage violent actions to be perpetrated against her Crown Subjects by the Europalandian Government.

It is with the greatest regret that her Majesty the Queen-Empress has found too great a reason to disapprove this unity in celebration; the confidence of her Royal Highness the Crown Princess within the atrocious behaviour of the Europalandian Government was indeed too great.

It is sincerely desired that the coming of age of the Crown Princess shall provide with it wisdom as well as opportunity.

The Queen-Empress’ Serjeant-at-Law shall observe keenly the progress of the event in the Kingdom of Franken.

By the Grace of GOD, of the EMPIRE of GREAT ENGELLEX, CHARLOTTE, the QUEEN-EMPRESS, through the SECRETARY of STATE, Sir ANTHONY PELHAM-HOLLES​

​

 

[Potenza]

From: The Grand Duke's Office, San Salvo, Potenza
To: Samuel Edwinborn de Mortimer-Garland, Regent and Prince of Havenshire

We give our hearty thanks for this invitation to the sixteenth birthday of her royal highness. Unfortunately, the Grand Duke will be unable to attend because of pressing matters at home. However, the following representatives of Potenza's royal houses will attend:

The House of Visconti

His Royal Highness, the Count Claudio
His son, His Royal Highness, the Count Constantino

The House of Cornaro

His Royal Highness, the Duke Prospero
His wife, Her Royal Highness, the Duchess Lia
Their son and Cornaro heir, His Royal Highness, the Count Plinio

The House of Grimaldi

His Royal Highness, the Count Niccolo

The House of della Torre

His Royal Highness and Torriani heir, the Count Guido
His sister, Her Royal Highness, the Countess Francesca

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[Holy Frankish Empire]

Office of the King

Prince Phillip will attend as the representative of Nicosia and the House of Kosara.

 

[Großlausitz]

The Royal Household of Franken

On behalf of Their Majesties King Alfred IV and Queen Magarethe, Their Royal Highnesses the Prince Regent and Duchess of Schlesnitz I have the pleasure of conveying their sincerest gratitude for the invitation. For scheduling reasons both the King and the Prince Regent will not able to attend. However, Their Royal Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Rhönland will attend in their stead alongside the heads and/or representatives of Franken's senior houses.

Walter Vogelweide
Ritter Walter Vogelweide
Lord Chamberlain of the Royal Household

 

[Jydsken-Østveg]

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Kommuniké från Riksmarskalken
Message from the Office of the Marshal of the Realm​

The Queen of Götarike, Her Royal Majesty Queen Caroline II Lotta Rebecka would like to wish Her Royal Highness Princess Rebecca Garland, Crown Princess and Heir to the Throne of Havenshire a joyous and happy birthday. Unfortunately she is unable to attend the ceremony due to conflicts with the tragic death of Prime Minister Linnéa Hjelmer-Lindeskog. Instead, her younger sister the Princess of Västergötland shall be in attendance.

Additionally Caroline wishes to express her dearest love for young Rebecca Garland and best wishes for her sixteenth year. As always, the family is welcome to visit Götarike. Kramas.

Linus Samuelsson
Riksmarskalk
Marshal of the Realm

 

[Rheinbund]

Schloss Charlottenburg
Trier, Eiffelland

His Majesty Albrecht IV, King of Eiffelland and Head of the Eiffellandian Royal House, sends his best wishes to Her Royal Highness Princess Rebecca Garland, Crown Princess and Heir to the Throne of Havenshire, and convey their sincerest gratitude. Unfortunately, they cannot attend the ball themselves. In their place, Their Royal Highnesses Prince Friedrich, Prince of Eiffelland, Duke of Sauerland, Crown Prince and Heir to the Throne of Eiffelland, and his wife Princess Laura, Princess of Eiffelland, Duchess of Sauerland, will attend, accompanied by Their Royal Highnesses Prince Johann, Prince Wolfgang, Prince Karl and Prince Ludwig. We haven’t contacted His Imperial Majesty Emperor Waylon of Talemantros yet, but if he agrees, His Highness Prince Sebastiano, who currently stays with the Eiffellandian Royal Family for his education, will join as well.

Walter Rahms Freiherr von Lüdenscheid
Lord Chamberlain of the Royal Household

OOC: Nicosia, as far as I remember, we agreed on it that your Princess Antonia was my Prince Wolfgang's girlfried. Will she be at the ball as well?

 

[Natal]

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Casa Regală Demian
Royal House of Demian​

We would like to congratulate Princess Rebecca Garland and wish her a happy sixteenth birthday. However, I am unable to attend the ceremony because of current projects in Altai. In my place will attend my son and Crown Prince, Andrzej he will surely send you all my best wishes.

Tatyana Demian,
Veliki Knyaginya of Altai

 

[Potenza]

From: The Grand Duke's Office, San Salvo, Potenza
To: Samuel Edwinborn de Mortimer-Garland, Regent and Prince of

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We would like to make a change to the previous RSVP. We made mention of the coming of His Royal Highness and Torriani heir, the Count Guido. However, with the unfortunate and unexpected passing of Duke Martino della Torre, Count Guido will, by the time he comes to the celebration, be His Royal Highness Duke Guido della Torre. We apologize for the change and thank the Havenshire royalty for their patience.

 

[Thaumantica]

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OFFICE FOR HER HIGHNESS
THE QUEEN OF CANTIGNIA
THE QUEEN OF KAROSKLAND
THE DUCHESS OF HAMMERSMITH

His Excellency Maximus Grantley, Baron Grantley of Persephone, Ambassador Extraordinary and Plenipotentiary From the Royal Court of Vesper
​

THIS TELEGRAM IS DELIVERED UNDER THE AUTHORITY OF THE OCEANIC COVENANT & CROWN

​

Baron Grantley of Persephone to the Regent & Prince of Havenshire, Telegram No. 242, Franken


​

FRIDAY 23, MARCH 2012
RESCINDING HER ACCEPTANCE

In the interests of preserving Her safety and dignity, the Crimson Queen of the Oceanic Realms has instructed me to inform the Royal Family of Havenshire that Alice I and Lord Felix Ilchester have chosen to rescind their acceptance and intent to visit the Kingdom of Franken in celebration of Princess Rebecca's Birthday.

Forward Cantignia!
Maximus Grantley
Baron of Persephone

 

[Havenshire]

THE EXILE'S BALL
​

5:30PM, 28th March, 2012
Mortimersburg Palace, Western Franken

ooc: Some mood music for you. In universe this piece is known as Uematsu's Waltz, and comes from a Touzen pianist.

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Rebecca regarded the woman opposite her with a critical eye. She was about average height, underweight, a bright, almost yellow blonde, with weirdly piercing blue eyes, and a slightly crooked nose. The woman wore a long, elegant white dress with gold-thread highlighting the edges, and soft velvet-lined silk gloves. The woman also wore a gold tiara with a single bright, blood-red ruby in the middle. The woman was her own reflection.

"Now I am a real princess." she said to herself, feeling somehow weird and detached from events. The mirror was her bedroom's, yet she found herself noticing details for the first time. Its ornate brass edging, crafted some three hundred years ago by a Franconian artisan of wide renown. Her mirror, which she must have looked in twice a day for months now, was older even than her own royal branch. It was disconcerting to realise that much of the room she lived in was older than not only she was, but the Garlands themselves.

But today- today all of this existed to stand tribute to her. Men and women who had lived and died long before her had sweated to make this a perfect day for her. To provide beauty, art, splendour, and prestige. Today, it might be Franconians and Havenite expatriates who are paid in Thaler by her uncle, but the roles they filled, the enviroment they would be working in- it was all to a pattern long ago laid down. She found the weight of the tradition and the grandeur almost suffocating. She began to do her breathing excercises. She then realised she still had to apply her make-up, and wait for all the guests to arrive. It was going to be a very exhausting today.

"Why couldn't I have been sixteen and middle-class?" she murmured to himself. She opened the jeweled makeup-case that sat on her vanity desk. Once owned by the Margrafine von Mortimersburg herself, some one hundred and fifty years ago. She began to apply some very-modern lip gloss and eye-shadow, taking a selfish amount of pride that this was one chore she could at least do herself. No doubt the Margrafine would have had someone to do it for her.

Once her face was done, she regarded the young woman in the mirror again, more critically. Almost pretty, she judged. There had been uglier princesses in history, she was sure. She just couldn't think of any right now.

"The first guests will be arriving in twenty minutes, Rebecca dear. I hope you are ready." Her uncle's voice. The only one who ever seemed truly comfortable calling her by something other than "your highness" or "your majesty." It was ironic then, it was always he insisting on formalities and traditions and protocol. She had never dared called him Uncle Sam. Always it was either "Uncle", or, more formally "Prince Garland". Such a ridiculous ritual, she had always thought.

"I am ready now, Uncle." In appearance at anyrate, she thought.
"Excellent. I will send someone to bring you down when it is time for your entry. I hope you have practiced walking around in those high-heels, The last thing we want is for you to trip in front of the gathered royalty of Europe."
Thanks, Uncle, as if I wasn't stressing enough.

==========================================================================

The Entrance Hall was lined with servants in 19th century livery, awaiting the arrival of the first royals. Security lined the outside perimeter, keeping watch for their motorcycle escorts and limousines. Parking spaces had been carefully prepared. The staff had been vigorously trained, and were all professionals with experience in the events and hospitality trade. The Master of Ceremonies, an unctious Wiesan named Jakob Waldheim, had spent his entire life training and organising servants at royal and aristocratic events. Tradition and ceremony were his lifeblood. The only people he would not order, in crisp, calm professional tones, were the royals themselves. Anybody else who stepped out of line risked his ire.

The Ballroom was carefully prepared, seats marked by white gilded cards. It had been difficult, at such short notice, to ensure that all the disparate and foreign royals and nobility were seated correctly, following order of precedence and Kingfisher's rules of dining seating.
An orchestra was scheduled to play, but were for now tuning up. A sound-system played some light, soothing piano music whilst last-minute preperations were put in place.

In the Gardens, several men with sniffer-dogs were doing last-second security double-checks, and CCTV systems were refreshed and checked constantly. The Fountains had been inspected a few days earlier, and were now working perfectly. The Kitchens were organised chaos, as a Two Michelin Star Chef, Pierre Rouard, made sure that the food was to the highest standard. The Crown Princess might enjoy hamburgers and croissants, but tonight, only the finest of the fine would suffice. This was going to be one of the defining moments of an already exemplary career- catering for the Royalty of almost All Europe. He smiled. He was secretly glad there were no Engellexic present, as a Montelimarian he might have been tempted to break the habit of a lifetime and serve them food that was anything less than perfect. Such a betrayal of his honour might have been too satisfying to bear.

The Chief Butler checked the wine cellars, marking carefully what could and could not be served. The finest vintages were to be served, bottles stocked here almost thirty years ago would at last be opened. He smiled as he noticed the bottles of Botanically brewed Lemonade. Her Highness did not much care for wine, yet, but she had a connisseur's appreciation for soda pop.

The grandfather clock in the Main hall began to chime. Six o'clock.

It was time to begin.

 

[Potenza]

The Potenzan party was coming in three vehicles altogether, each holding varying numbers of the representatives to Potenza's royalty. The only royal house that would not be represented was the House of Morosini, but the other four families were accounted for with members from each attending.

In the first vehicle was the Count Niccolo di Grimaldi, accompanied by the Countess Francesca della Torre and her brother, the new Duke of Venosa, the Guido della Torre. The 43-year old count felt slightly elderly as he sat opposite the 27-year old duke and 28-year old countess. He also felt rather modest given his attire compared to theirs. The Count of Turin was wearing the usual red uniform of the Grimaldi house, with a darker red sash bearing a medal showing that he was a count, as well as the newly appointed Count of Turin, which his brother, the duke, had granted him. Duke Guido was wearing the green uniform of the Torriani house, with the large ducal medallion bearing his rank, and elaborate shoulder pads making his torso look slightly broader up top than it actually was. His boots were actually two different colors - one black, and the other dark brown. The dark brown one was obviously worn to signify his fake leg.

Niccolo glanced over to Francesca and studied her gear. She was wearing a lovely black dress that matched her dark hair and eyes, the former of which was done in a bun at her head with the rest of her hair flowing down and over her shoulder. The dress had ruffles going down the skirt and a plunging neckline that was rather generous in its display of her chest. The count mused how the countess seemed like the stereotype of Potenzan women: dark, oversexed, and voluptuous. It didn't help that a gorgeous diamond necklace descended downwards from her neck, drawing the male eye to rather obvious places.

"Have I mentioned you look lovely tonight, Countess?" Niccolo said suddenly.

Francesca turned her dark eyes towards Niccolo and smiled a bit, saying softly, "Thank you..."

Niccolo glanced out the window, not bothering to say anything more to her. He had almost said, "Have I mentioned you look like a whore tonight, Countess?", but the manners of gentlemen forbid him from doing so. He always felt a little uneasy around Francesca, though he still felt a good tie with Guido himself. With Guido's coronation, he held considerable power within Potenza now, and there was much to be done with an alliance between the Duchies of Turin and Venosa.

"It was a lovely ceremony this morning," Niccolo said to the former count, "I'm amazed, though, you haven't chosen a more elaborate cane."

Guido smiled and looked down at his cane. It was true, he still had the same cane that he walked with when he was a count.

"I guess you're right," Guido said to the count, "I suppose it's hard parting with some things...I've had this since I was a teenager you know."

"If you'd like, I can have someone in Turin work up a more elaborate one for you."

"That would not be opposed to, good count."

Niccolo smiled a little as the limo stopped before the palace, "Good. I want to be able to offer some better form of support."

Guido smirked, catching the double entendre of Niccolo's words. The door to the limo opened up and Niccolo stepped out, followed by the duke. One of the palace servants offered a hand which Niccolo was quick to stop - Guido still slapped any hand that dared assist him because of his handicap. Francesca was the next to step out, and Niccolo winced a bit as he saw she offered no attempt to cover herself as she leaned over to get out.

The next two vehicles were emptied of their inhabitants. Out of the second came the Visconti party, consisting of the Grand Duke's younger brother, the 53-year old Count Claudio, along with his son, the 26-year old Constantino. Both were dressed in the uniform of the Visconti house, though with as moderate attire in terms of ribbons and medals as Count Niccolo. Claudio had been a widower for about ten years now, when his wife had passed away due to breast cancer. He spent much of his time to himself, or with his son, hence Grand Duke Eldizio's adding him to the list of Potenzan representatives. It might be good, the Grand Duke figured, for his younger brother to get out and see Europe from time to time.

The last vehicle bore the immediate royal family of the House of Cornaro. There was the 40-year old Duke Prospero, the Duke of Treviso, along with his wife, the 34-year old Duchess Lia. The Cornaro family was known for its humility and its attempt to appear as "one of the people," and so their attire was perhaps the most modest. The Duke Prospero wore a simple white-tie tuxedo, with a white sash that bore the ducal medal on it. His wife wore a white outfit with frills at the neck and wrists, and circular glass bead patterns along her skirt. Accompanying them was their only son and the heir to the Duchy of Treviso: the Count Plinio di Cornaro. At just nearly 24-years old, he was the youngest of the Potenzan nobles to arrive. He too wore a white-tie tuxedo, though with no sash or insignia.

Lia glanced over at their fellow Potenzans and caught sight of Francesca. She murmured to her husband: "Oh my, do you think the good countess will freeze when the night chill comes?"

"Don't worry about her," Prospero said, "she will have her attention tonight." He looked to his son Plinio and said, "Remember Plinio, to beware women like that - the man whom God is displeased with will fall into her snare."

Plinio glanced over and blushed slightly, looking away. He then smiled and said, "Well, Paolo Vergerio translated scripture with the help of prostitutes, didn't he?"

"You are too shrewd," Lia said, poking her son in the nose, "perhaps you will be able to dance with the princess tonight."

Plinio waved his hand, "Mother, please."

Prospero came to his son's rescue, putting an arm around his wife's shoulder as the Potenzan party were escorted inside, "Hear that? Isn't that music lovely? I haven't heard a good piano tune in a while. It's a waltz, isn't it...?"

 

[Rheinbund]

King Albrecht himself could not come to the ball, so the Eiffellandian Royal Family was represented by Crown‑Prince Friedrich and his wife Princess Laura von Bamberg, and the Princes Johann, Wolfgang, Karl and Ludwig. The Nicosian Princess Antonia, who was Prince Wolfgang’s girlfriend, would arrive with the Nicosian guests. The Talemantine Prince Sebastiano, who lived in Eiffelland and attended secondary school there, arrived together with the Eiffellandian princes.
It was a standard security measure that the Eiffellandian Royal Family never travelled together in one plane. Also this time the Eiffellandians had arrived in two separate planes. Prince Johann, who was a fighter pilot in the Eiffellandian Air Force, had flown the plane with Prince Friedrich, Princess Laura and Prince Wolfgang. The Princes Karl, Ludwig, Sebastiano and the Altaic Prince Andrzej had shared the other plane. Now they were driving to the palace in two limousines.

Friedrich, Laura and Johann were sitting in the first limousine. Friedrich wore the full dress uniform of an Eiffellandian Rear Admiral. Johann, who was a fighter pilot in the Eiffellandian Air Force, wore the full dress uniform belonging to his rank: Captain. Laura wore a beautiful dark blue silk dress that fitted her perfectly, a golden necklace, diamond bracelets, her wedding ring and a ring with a very expensive sapphire in it. Friedrich had already complimented her. Now they were mainly talking about the event to come.
“On the one hand, I’m glad that the Engellexics won’t be there,” Johann said. “On the other hand, I would have loved to try out their knowledge of French. Especially that of that virago calling herself the Queen-Empress. Now that they are going to rule over major parts of Montelimar, they should at least know something of the language.”
Since the invasion into Montelimar, the Engellexic government was not very popular among Eiffellandians, although individual Engellexics were still treated well by them. Prince Johann, however, actually hated them. Despite his very good English skills, he had developed the bad habit to always talk French to Engellexics, perfect French, and also very rude French. He used the worst French insults possible when talking to Engellexics. His French had already been very good, but he had taken additional courses to make it perfect only for this task. He could not meet an Engellexic without insulting him in French. If the poor Engellexic’s French skills were limited, Johann eagerly insulted him for that while showing off his language skills. Friedrich and Laura knew why. There was a Montelimarian female pilot Johann had fallen in love with. Johann was a womanizer who usually slept with more girls in a month than an average student in a year, but this time he was really in love. That pilot had died during the Engellex‑Montelimar war. Although Johann knew that that was the risk when you were a soldier, he had sworn to never forgive the Engellexics for that. Also because he considered the Engellexic attack on Montelimar backstabbing, a feeling he shared with almost all Eiffellandians.
“Whow, that would be a début for poor Princess Rebecca: You and the Queen-Empress in a word fight,” Prince Friedrich joked. “Anyway, please realise that it is her party.”
“Don’t worry,” Prince Johann grinned. “Like I said, the Engellexic putain de sa race is in Dulwich. Hopefully she stays there for the rest of her life.”
“Johann, please,” Laura said, who perfectly understood the French words Johann had used. “You’ll ignite the next war with that kind of words.”
“Well, since the 19th century, no war has been fought by the people that ignited it. It would be fun to break with that tradition once,” Johann grinned.
“But you’ll not be the only one to fight it, Johann,” Friedrich said with a humoristic undertone. “I still favour preventing wars, so please stay away from high‑ranking Engellexics, if I may ask.”
“Bah, mir wird nie was erlaubt,” Johann pouted.

Wolfgang, Karl and Ludwig were sitting in the second limousine. Because Ludwig was facing his final exams for secondary school, he had been studying all day before dressing for the ball. Although Sebastiano had flown to Franken together with the Eiffellandian entourage, he would arrive at the ball together with his brothers Horace and Luciano.
Wolfgang was wearing the full dress uniform of an Eiffellandian Navy Captain. Karl, who was still serving in the Eiffellandian Navy as a Navy Lieutenant First Class (called Oberleutnant in the Eiffellandian Navy), was wearing the full dress uniform belonging to his rank. Ludwig was wearing a dress suit; he was not allowed to wear an uniform of the armed forces, because he had not served yet. As always, he had paid an enormous lot of effort in his looks. The Altaic Prince Andrzej was also wearing a dress suit. He was a bit baffled when he heard the three princes talking. He was also a bit surprised about a clear difference between Ludwig and his brothers. Ludwig was a very quiet guy, but his brothers were not. Especially Karl could be a bit gross from time to time.
“My goodness, Ludwig, how come that you use so much time for dressing? You are already in a relationship for Christ’s sake. You don’t have to prepare for the hunt on your Mr. Right any more,” Karl said.
“Now you’re making a thinking mistake, Karl. The effort can’t stop after having gained Mr. Right. You have to stay attractive when you’re in a relationship. Otherwise your beloved will look for another attractive guy. And that’s also applicable to straight guys and their Mrs. Rights,” Ludwig said. He was already very handsome from himself, but still didn’t realise that. Furthermore, he was a perfectionist.
“Oh, so you did it for Sebastiano? And that poor Rebecca will think that you made yourself beautiful for her. You ruthless heart breaker,” Wolfgang joked.
“But it’s good that you’re a guy. If you would have been a girl, you would still have doubted about which dress, jewels and pumps to wear. Now you only have one choice: A dress suit. At least that makes it easier for you,” Karl added.
“Oh please, Karl, the thought of me wearing women’s clothes makes me nauseous,” Ludwig said. “Maybe I’m a bit feminine, but I’m still a guy.”

The Eiffellandian delegation was still in the hall when the Talemantine delegation arrived. The Talemantine Princes were greeted by the Eiffellandian Princes. While doing so, Karl said: “Well Sebastiano, as always, Ludwig has been busy for hours making himself beautiful for you.”
That remark gave Sebastiano a shock. He knew that his family was less positive about homosexuality than Ludwig’s family. He didn’t know what his family knew about him, but he wanted to keep his homosexuality a secret for them as long as possible just in case that they didn’t know already. Karl’s remark was not really helpful with that.

OOC: Please see

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for a description of my Royal House.

By the way, Ludwig is only slightly feminine, not an extremely feminine drama‑queen

Translations:
Putain de sa race = Whore of her race.
Mir wird nie was erlaubt = People never allow me anything.
Vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas = Vanity of vanities, everything is vanity.

Talemantros, are you OK with what I let Sebastiano say?

Furthermore, the post has been changed. The Altaic Prince Andrzej is travelling with the Eiffellandians as well, and he is also in the same limousine as Wolfgang, Karl and Ludwig.

Another change to this post took place on 13APR2012 ± 01:15 CET. The following quote was replaced:

Sebastiano nodded his head and said: “Ludwig, Ludwig, Ludwig ... Always the same with you ... Vanitas vanitatum omnia vanitas ... And that while you don’t wear any clothes at the most important moments of your life.”
“And when are those most important moments?” Ludwig asked with a humoristic undertone.
“When you’re born ... And when you’re making love,” Sebastiano grinned.

The replacement is:

That remark gave Sebastiano a shock. He knew that his family was less positive about homosexuality than Ludwig’s family. He didn’t know what his family knew about him, but he wanted to keep his homosexuality a secret for them as long as possible just in case that they didn’t know already. Karl’s remark was not really helpful with that.

Still a pity that Talemantros wanted me to replace it :sad:

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Both Prince Phillip and Princess Antonia hated these damn balls. The House of Kosara was one of the oldest ruling families in Europe that was still in power but the two youths thought it almost dubious. Th two had a severe dislike for the social structure that went with some of their counterparts. They had nothing against the majority of those in attendance. In fact, they were friends with many. It was the oldest of the old they had problems with. Those that felt that the royal houses and houses of nobility made the world go round. It was those who had been raised with the mindset of 1910; the mindset of democracy being only a footnote to the real rulers.

Phillip sighed as he looked at his sister Antonia as the small black executive car arrived. Despite their position, the two rarely traveled in more than one vehicle or with more than a driver and bodyguard. Phillip was dressed neatly in the dress uniform of a Nicosian naval lieutenant, complete with a brass accented dirk rather than a sword. It was more practical in terms of walking around and it was far less flashy. Antonia stuck to her usual stylish but understated manner and wore an aqua green dress with no plunging neckline or any nonsense. It was to be, they hoped, an evening of sitting quietly in a corner and polishing off mid-grade champagne. "Isn't a massive ball for a 16 year old's birthday a little......" started Antonia, looking out the window. "Stupid?" concluded Phillip. Antonia shrugged her shoulders. "Something like that" she finished. Phillip responded sourly "I don't see why we have to attend these things. I'm not even going to wearing the crown one day". Antonia was quiet and turned from the window. "It is because you know you won't be and they don't. She glanced and saw the driver Jilpeta's eyes in the rear view mirror. Jilpeta had been her driver since she was 17 and he was madly in love with her. She knew it but had never said a word. He was perhaps one of the most trustworthy men in the service of Nicosia. "We must attend these things because it is Father's will and we have one of the most respected and smallest royal houses" said Antonia. She knew Phillip was rolling his eyes at that. Some would consider him to be a brat and she did sometimes.

As the two exited, they exchanged glances and headed towards the party. Both looking for booze; and she looking for Wolfgang

 

[Danmark]

Schloss Mortimersburg, Königreich Franken

Whilst the other assembled royal dignatories were busy hob-nobbing and striking up acquaintances, the Danish royal convoy made a stately entrance to Schloss Mortimersburg, better late than never. Spearheaded by police outriders and a police escort vehicle with flashing red and blue underside lights the procession made its way. Closely following the police security apparatus was a convoy of offical state vehicles though the one to catch the eyes was a 1938 vintage claret-lacquered State Limousine, higher than the more modern cars and with running boards, much grander than the other vehicles and crowned with the red and white royal standard of the Danish Crown Prince fluttering in the slight breeze.

As the convoy crunched across the gravel, which had driven all the way from Christiansborg and through the Wendmarker Alps, the doors to the imposing State Car were opened by footmen revealing two Royal Princes of the Danish realm - The Crown Prince Sweyn soon to be the King of Danes and his younger sibling, Prince Christian, the fourth in line to the throne. Both were dressed to the nines - the Crown Prince in the full black uniform of an admiral of the Kongelige Danske Marine, together with light blue sash and golden braids, and bedecked in a plethora of military decorations and medals of honour. Prince Christian, the more junior of the two, was kitted a little more simply in the royal blue-coloured uniform of an Air Commodore with just two medals, one from the Prince's service in the KDM and another from his more advanced service in the Kongelige Danske Flyvevåbnet (airforce). As they emerged from the car, they both fixed on their military caps to top off their full dress uniform, the Crown Prince's was replete with ostrich feathers.

The royal princes mounted the steps to the palace and were greeted warmly by the Franconian hosts whilst turning around to give 'royal waves', a movement of the hands at the wrist as if they were screwing in light-bulbs, to a tranche of press photographers. More attention was made to the Crown Prince given his impending coronation with a litany of cat-calls asking him to pose this way and that. The two princes together cut a sight - almost like two handsome toy soldiers.

As they slowly walked the hallway into the palace, the Crown Prince offered a quick word of advice through gritted teeth to his younger brother, whilst both sort of half smiled to the people around them and making slight head nods as a mark of courtesy to left and right.

"Remember, act according to your position, we can't have any of your shenanigans with a good proportion of European royalty beaming down at us. We represent all Danes and a 500 year old monarchy at that. You might be able to get away with it in back home to some extent but you have to remember the potential negative connotations upon my coronation which is an event much greater than any of us. Please try to act with a little decorum."

As soon as he'd finished his guidance, some might say his admonishment of his sibling, the Danish Crown Prince beamed as he saw the Eiffellandian Crown‑Prince Friedrich and his wife Princess Laura von Bamberg. They knew each other well enough that the Crown Prince felt he could momentarily drop down his guard, regarding the Eiffellandian as a genuine friend and at an equal level being that they were both Crown Princes.

"Ah, Friedrich, so pleased to see you!", he exclaimed whilst warmly shaking Crown Prince Friedrich's hand. "It's been a long time and I hoped you'd be here, we don't see each enough as we used to do to! We really should get together more often. And how's Laura?". Sweyn and Laura exchanged kisses on both cheeks.

The princes passed their caps to footmen and the Crown Prince rubbed his hands together and cast an eye over the hubbub of European royalty, some of whom they only had a passing acquaintance with. It was a rare event for the Danes. They were a great and grand monarchy but rarely rubbed shoulders with other royals. Some might mistake it for monarchical aloofness, and whilst there was a tinge of that, much of it was that the Danish royals were less related to other royals than some, so get-togethers like this had less of a purchase. Plus many of the royals came from a background of different constitutions - some monarchs were more autocratic and lived in an era of 'divine right', Danish royals were thoroughly modern and constitutional never really having had that stigma of a bygone eon, managing to marry the trappings and theatre of ultra-monarchy together with concessions to modernity.

The Crown Prince, inculcated with the demands and expectations of his role and impending succession, carrying the weight of responsibility as the highest representative of the Danish Crown bar the king, with all its history and traditions and as a future head of state, was a man guided by seriousness, though in private he was quite the contrary. In public he was guided was diplomatic considerations and deft handling of a multitude of situations and often found it difficult to relax in public, constantly having to smile, so was his position wired into him. Not only that but his sexual inclinations caused him a degree of consternation and he found it difficult to be open about them. His sexuality, he often felt, was like a prison.

Prince Christian on the other hand, was much the opposite. He didn't realistically expect to inherit the Danish throne so had a more relaxed and some might say blase attitude. In the Danish popular press, he had garnered the reputation somewhat of a royal playboy having well and truly planted his flag in the 'conventional' territory of sexuality in contrast to his older brother.

To an observant outsider watching the uptight 'imprisoned' Crown Prince casting furtive and longing glances with doeful eyes and a slightly shy countenance at attractive males but always conscious of his position, and his younger 'open collar' brother watching anything in a skirt that passed by and making suggestive facial expressions hoping to dazzle in his uniform it was a curious exercise in sociology.

 

[Wieserreich]

It was very rare, very rare indeed, for a Thießen delegation to not include Karl Maximilian. Emperor Friedrich Wilhelm's only son, crowned "Emperor-elect" (co-emperor) Karl IV in 1991 at the age of sixty -exactly fifty years after he formally became the crown prince- was usually taking care of such matters for decades now. No crowned Wieser emperor like Friedrich Wilhelm II had ever left the country's borders to not attend a pope's funeral, lead an army or visit an overseas estate; but an Emperor-elect like Karl not only could, but actually set traditions as well.

Today, the almighty Thießens were not represented by their two leading, ancient fossils. Instead this was the first such high profile entry for Archduke Franz, Karl's firstborn son; as well as his Arnen wife Lena and their daughter Eleonore.

In the background, other Wieser royalty and nobility such as the Gießens, the Schwarzenbergs and others had sent their own delegates. Ultimately, however, it was the three Thießens who truly represented the Wieser royalty, as one was an Emperor-in-waiting, another was an Empress-consort-in-waiting, and their daughter would someday become Empress-regnant herself, the third such in Wiese's thousand-year imperial tradition.


The main issue with the Thießens tonight was Eleonore had performed one of those publicity stunts she was most infamous for. While her father Franz wore the expected gold-trimmed, pure black evening dress of an Imperial Army Major with the feathered late-19th-century-style shako, and her mother wore a beautiful dress matching a princess of the Nareath bloodlines and future Wieser empress-consort, Eleonore herself, the highest-ranking princess of the blood in all of Wiese's states and royal families, was not wearing a dress.

Indeed, she was not. Instead, she was wearing the evening dress of an Imperial Air Service Ensign, with its black and gold colours and beautiful white trimming, the low rank's insignia, the accompanying light blade of the dress and everything. Her hair was politely collected in a matching, unfeminine manner, and her shako completed the Wieser soldier's image. Wiese was famous for its dress uniforms - so famous for its cermonial hats like shakos, busbys, czapkas, and even the police's standard-issue pickelhaube. And tonight, the princess and potential future empress was wearing a military evening dress, a woman's but rather manly by its nature regardless.

It was needless to say that Franz himself was a little frustrated over it. Certainly, Eleonore was serving her military term until March 2014, and she still had two years to spend in the Imperial Air Service, but there was no need to come as an ensign even in a relative's birthday party. When they returned, Karl (and perhaps even Friedrich) would definitely have something to say about this, though the blonde German princess insisted she carried her country's colours and her rank's duties with pride in this night.

Even so, the arguments had been heated, though Eli's independence and valid arguments made the parents' efforts futile. She was but twenty after all, she had argued, and a troop; he would not get married before she finished her military term, and not appearing in an expensive dress once would not make much of a difference. If anything, this military uniform meant it was less likely for the annoying playboys to notice her, or so she argued; and her grandfather would no doubt be yelling about 'unwomanliness' and her 'never getting married at this pace'.


Her shako away and Eleonore as relaxed as she could be in this dress, the young woman scanned her surroundings. She had already congratulated Rebecca on her birthday, she was greatly enjoying the reactions she was getting like any good troll would, and was planning ahead her next step. Perhaps she could dance with the crown princess, provide her a 'prince' for a few minutes? Or better yet she could do the same with a prince, and play the slightly feminine role herself. She opted to pay a visit to her Eiffellandic family first.

Approaching her cousins Karl and Ludwig from the former's behind, Eleonore sort-of shouted in an officer-like way to catch the two princes' attention. "OBERLEUTNANT KARL! Are you teasing Ludwiga again?" Eleonore asked strictly, crossing her arms behind her back and looking just as strictly at both her cousins - even though she had just called the second, the 'frilly' member of the family, with a woman's name. She then smiled broadly at both, for it had been months since they had last seen each other even if they kept in regular contact through e-mail.

"...Karl, Ludwig. I missed you both" Eleonore eventually broke, looking at her cousins with emotion. Of all her family, Karl and Ludwig felt the closest despite all the distance that separated them. Eli proceeded to offer a familial hug to Ludwig with a kiss on each cheek. For all the manly garments she wore, she nevertheless behaved as a woman should in this circumstance. She then turned towards Karl, a broader smile and a soft blush on her face, before she offered the Royal Navy officer a more nervous and would-be-intimate-though-I-just-failed hug that she clearly intended for an awkward cuddle.

Breaking off just when it was socially required and appropriate, the young archduchess looked at the two princes with anticipation.


Elsewhere, Princess Amalia of Schaumburg, 'Amalie' or 'Amelie' to close friends, had been waiting with anxiety. The second child and eldest daughter of Crown Prince Gustav, heir-apparent of Duke Gustav IV of Schaumburg and head of the House of Weilburg, had recently began approaching the Crown Prince of Danmark as part of their families' attempts. The feminine but proud Catholic Franconian German princess from northern Wiese had dressed up in her best dress for the night, combining elegance and beauty, as she sought to impress all and the man who could someday become her future husband.

Ironically, she thought, she was perhaps the closest relative of Queen-Empress of Great Engellex here - her uncle Friedrich being the lady's father, and major proponent in favour of close Wiese-Engellex relations in the Reich.

When Crown Prince Sweyn entered, Amalia blinked and blushed profusely. Immediately did she began an elegant walk through the room, abandoning the rest of her House to meet the Crown Prince, stopping but to barely greet those who mattered on the way. When she finally stood before the Danish royals, she bowed as her status demanded and spoke with her finest manners, hiding her anticipation and embarrassment only barely.

"...Your Highnesses" Amalie bowed, greeting the higher-ranked royals as tradition and status demanded. Although her grandfather was merely a duke, her House was still a sovereign and royal house by the compact and Imperial bulls signed in 1782, which finalised the centralisation of Wiese and removed the last significant portions of sovereignty from the surviving realms of the Holy Germanic Empire, including that of Schaumburg - a realm of mainly Catholic, Franconian Germans situated so close to Nuremberg, that it had once been the source of heated conflict between Protestant Franken and Catholic Wiese for centuries.

 

[Potenza]

The Potenzan nobility had begun to disperse gradually into their individual parties, divided up by who had ridden with whom. The Viscontis kept to themselves, while the Cornaros appreciated the interior decorations. The Grimaldi count and two Torriani nobles began to traverse among the rest of the European nobility, Guido and Niccolo flanking each other while Francesca was but one step behind her slow moving brother. At some point her dark eyes turned towards the royal Danish princes, and her lips pursed as she saw the Princess Amalia approach them and open discussion. Niccolo and Guido likewise saw it, coming to a stop. The Torriani duke felt a feminine hand glide slowly up his back, followed by his sister asking softly:

"Do you see that, brother?"

"I do, sister," Guido replied.

The Grimaldi count studied the scene a moment before finally looking away, whispering, "So it begins..."

"Look how her eyes flutter at the crown prince," Francesca said. Her dark eyes traversed to Prince Christian, and she leaned in to whisper to her brother's ear, "I will go and assist her..."

The two Potenzan men watched as Francesca departed from them, the ends of her black dress trailing behind her. Guido smirked and said to Niccolo:

"My sister has a look in her eye. That's not good."

"Indeed," Niccolo said, "I've seen that look before...in a cat when it spots a mouse..."

As Amalia addressed the Danish princes, Francesca suddenly appeared from the side, speaking in English (assuming the Danish princes could speak this as well) peppered with her thick Tiburan accent:

"Pardon me, your highness," Francesca bowed politely towards Christian, lowering her upper body just a bit, "I couldn't help but notice your uniform..." She lifted a hand, decked in a black glove, to the prince's KDM medal, lifting it up slightly and asking, "...what medal is this? It caught my eye, and I must confess, I am ignorant of foreign decorations." Francesca's dark eyes were locked on Christian's, but her fingers were far more telling: her forefinger held the medal up, and her successive fingers slowly curled back towards her, more and more, until her pinky nearly touched her palm. It was if she were quietly suggesting, Come hither, away with me.

"Does your sister always go after the easy prey?" Niccolo asked Guido, as the two men began to walk through the crowd of nobility.

Guido laughed gently, his cane tapping on the ground as they went, "My sister has been locked up with an old man with dementia for the past few months - permit her to have some fun now that she is free again." He glanced towards Eleonore, the princess from Wiese, eyeing her uniform a moment before saying, "And I must say, a pity the Morosini are not here."

The duke's words drew Niccolo's attention, and he immediately picked on what Guido was suggesting, "Ah...you've heard certain rumors?"

Guido shrugged, "I know that the Countess Adalina di Morosini wants to wear the uniform and feels more comfortable around men than women. She's probably going to be rejected for the military institute - the nation is used to Morosini counts serving in uniform, not countesses."

"You have heard rumors I see. Tell me, my newly coronated friend...what rumors circle about me?"

"I'm not aware of too many. I think I heard some website accused you of being behind the disruption in Turin."

"The internet is a cesspool of idiocy," Niccolo said, adjusting one of his uniform's cuff links."

Guido turned and smiled at the count, "What rumors circle about me?"

Niccolo grinned back, "Very little. You're a bit of an enigma, do you know that? Most considered you the strange little count limping back and forth in his father's palace - not my words, of course."

"No," Guido said, interrupting him, "they're not elegant enough."

"You're lucky, however," Niccolo continued, "few dukes, when they finally receive their ducal medal, are able to begin their rule with a clean slate. When Drago reigns, people will already expect him to be a dunderhead compared to his more cautious father, and it will be because of all the mistakes he's already made. You, on the other hand...few people know what to expect of you."

"Let's keep it that way," Guido said, "for now."