Ajaccio Palace
Ajaccio, Nicosia
Nicosia's second largest city was strangely calm in the early morning hours in late May. Tourists had yet to rise from their slumber and only the unfortunate were hustling and bustling at 7 o'clock in the morning. In an hour however, Ajaccio's streets would soon be jam packed with tourists, commuters, and taxi's. Calm would still reign on the small hill barely overlooking the rooftops of the sun drenched city on Nicosia's eastern coast.
The hill hosted a small palace, more of a villa, that seemed to veil its inner beauty. Over the centuries, portions of the palace had hosted Popes, Muslim invaders, crusaders, and of course Nicosian nobility. Once sprawling with princes, dukes, barons and other manners of peerage, the Nicosian nobility gradually lost its edge in the jostling world of Gallian sitting rooms. Now, only a few peers still wielded true power and Ajaccio was the diamond. Next to the members of the actual government and direct royal family, the Duke of Ajaccio was the most powerful person in the country. While they had no direct power, they often exerted a power behind the scenes as it were from the halls of the Ajaccio Palace. However, the Duke was now wearing the crown and the palace sat empty.
Now the King stood in his former home. Ajjacio Palace is where his family had lived since the 1790's. His old study was full of items, covered in sheets. He could hear workers in other rooms clearing away the coverings, dusting, and whatnot. He gazed out the window. In a few short hours, the Khalsa Raj would meet with a senior member of the Anglysh government. Bombaim's future and the lives of those living there would be decided. The King drummed his fingers at the thought of anyone being forced by circumstance to leave. Packing boxes, making travel arrangements, explaining things to their children. He shook his head and turned as workers entered the room to tidy it up, bowing their heads slightly. His drumming abruptly stopped as he folded his arms and stared at the horizon.
Ajaccio, Nicosia
Nicosia's second largest city was strangely calm in the early morning hours in late May. Tourists had yet to rise from their slumber and only the unfortunate were hustling and bustling at 7 o'clock in the morning. In an hour however, Ajaccio's streets would soon be jam packed with tourists, commuters, and taxi's. Calm would still reign on the small hill barely overlooking the rooftops of the sun drenched city on Nicosia's eastern coast.
The hill hosted a small palace, more of a villa, that seemed to veil its inner beauty. Over the centuries, portions of the palace had hosted Popes, Muslim invaders, crusaders, and of course Nicosian nobility. Once sprawling with princes, dukes, barons and other manners of peerage, the Nicosian nobility gradually lost its edge in the jostling world of Gallian sitting rooms. Now, only a few peers still wielded true power and Ajaccio was the diamond. Next to the members of the actual government and direct royal family, the Duke of Ajaccio was the most powerful person in the country. While they had no direct power, they often exerted a power behind the scenes as it were from the halls of the Ajaccio Palace. However, the Duke was now wearing the crown and the palace sat empty.
Now the King stood in his former home. Ajjacio Palace is where his family had lived since the 1790's. His old study was full of items, covered in sheets. He could hear workers in other rooms clearing away the coverings, dusting, and whatnot. He gazed out the window. In a few short hours, the Khalsa Raj would meet with a senior member of the Anglysh government. Bombaim's future and the lives of those living there would be decided. The King drummed his fingers at the thought of anyone being forced by circumstance to leave. Packing boxes, making travel arrangements, explaining things to their children. He shook his head and turned as workers entered the room to tidy it up, bowing their heads slightly. His drumming abruptly stopped as he folded his arms and stared at the horizon.