State Visit of HM The Queen (ATTN: BOURGOGNE)

[Coeurleon]

AMBASSADE DE CŒURLÉON
Chagny, Duchy of Burgundy​

27 Janviers 1955

I have received word from Merteuil this morning, requesting a State Visit by Her Majesty The Queen. I am told Queen Henrietta Maria will be accompanied by Her Majesty The Queen Dowager, Her Royal Highness The Duchess de Champagny - her mother - as well as senior cabinet officials. This will be Her Majesty's first state visit since her Accession.

First and foremost, the visit is to promote bilateral relations between our two countries. Merteuil would like to negotiate an alliance, as well as work on several trade agreements. But I cannot go without saying both Her Majesty The Queen Dowager and Her Royal Highness The Duchess de Champagny desire for the continued presence of Burgundy's great and eligible princes and nobles during the tour. A royal marriage to the young Queen is of the greatest interest to the health and well-being of the Monarchy. We hope the visit can bring about not only an alliance - but wedding bells.

I sincerely hope His Serene Highness will formally accept the proposal. And, as always, I humbly and respectfully await a response.

Le Marquis de la Flouceillière
Her Majesty's Ambassador to Burgundy​

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Office of His Grace, the Duke of Bourgogne

Greetings and salutations. It is His Grace's pleasure to host this delegation and as host, extend the deepest hospitality. The Duke and First Consul Marchand look forward to this visit by your royals and cabinet members. His Grace would like to extend the use of the Ducal Residence to those who wish to accept it. Those who option otherwise, will find the Trois Drapeaux Hôtel de Chagny to their satisfaction. His Grace the Duke may be able to suggest suitable matches for Her Highness, the Queen. Naturally, the Duke would be pleased to see a wedding in the future. His Grace and First Consul Marchand, who represents the government, look forward to discussing the merits of a possible alliance. Both have agreed that sooner, rather than later, would be best for such a visit. Please inform myself of potential arrival dates so that I may notify the Office of the Consuls as to their schedules so they may make themselves free of any other obligation.

Your servant,

Claude Darc, Dean of Staff to His Grace Duke Maximilien II
Count of Morteau, Knight of the Burgundian Order, Knight of the Republic

 

[Coeurleon]

PALAIS DE SAINTE-ÉLISABETH
Merteuil 86001
Le Royaume de Cœurléon​

28 Janviers 1955

To Mssr. le Comte de Morteau:

We at the Palace are thrilled to hear His Grace has formally accepted. After speaking with both the Foreign Secretary, we believe the Seventeenth of February would be best for the arrival of the Official Suite. At Her Majesty's behest, she welcomes the chance to stay at the Ducal Residence along with Her Majesty The Queen Dowager and Her Royal Highness The Duchess de Champagny. The Queen has requested use of the Trois Drapeaux Hotel de Chagny for the additional members of her Suite.

Mssr. Simon Fizes de Sauve
Secretary of State for the Queen's Household
​

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Office of His Grace, the Duke of Burgundy


Arrangements will be made so as to meet all stipulations. We ask kindly that a meeting begin no earlier than 10:30 am as His Grace has previously committed to visiting a primary school which is near the palace.





Kind regards. Your servant,


Claude Darc, Dean of Staff to His Grace Duke Maximilien II
Count of Morteau, Knight of the Burgundian Order, Knight of the Republic

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

The Ducal Residence was significantly less grand than many of the regions palaces. The Palace of the Dukes had long since been turned into government offices full of bureaucrats and partially a museum. The Duke instead resided in the old bishop's palace, built in the mid 1600's. It was still ornate but much of it had been converted into more modern offices and bedrooms. One meeting room was rather drab apart from the original fireplace in the corner which was adorned with fine stonework. The floor was a rust colored tile and the brick walls had been stuccoed and painted a blue gray. The long mahogany table was surrounded by 9 chairs, the Duke's at the end. However, on this day only two were occupied. To the Dukes right, sat Claude Darc, the Count of Morteau. Darc preferred not to use his title despite being technically among the highest ranking nobles of Burgundy. He was thin and tall, with black hair. His hairline was already in heavy recession at the age of 35 but it somehow fit him well. He was well dressed except for his ties which often did not match his suit very well. He preferred to drink weak coffee despite Bourgogne's link to the vast coffee plantations of their colony. As he sipped on his weak coffee, the eyed the Duke who was finishing one of a dozen files brought to him. The Duke occasionally mumbled a note to himself before flipping to another page.

"Well, monsieur Darc" began the Duke who indulged Darc's preference of address. "It seems this meeting will be quite interesting. It may have some hurdles" said the Duke who closed the file and sat back, looking at Darc intently. "Well sir, obviously Consul Marchand will have reservations. As head of government, he may decide he will not embrace the offer of alliance. However, I think we could tailor it before we sell it and before they can tailor it for us" said Darc as put his coffee cup down. The Duke was staring at Darc intently. Darc had been one of the few that had grown used to the Duke's intent gaze. Darc recognized early that the Duke's commanding presence could be offset by what he thought of as 'respectful indifference' at times. "Well sir, what I mean is that if we can take control of the meeting early, before Marchand can, we can dictate what we see as the correct terms of an agreement by suggesting to their delegation that we already understood" said Darc who was now looking into the distance in thought as he spoke, totally unaware of a raised eyebrow the Duke had produced and the arms folded which denoted the Duke's patience for an explanation was thin. "If we can recount terms as if they were terms suggested by their delegation and we were merely acting as if we were attempting to make sure we understood what they want; we can establish ourselves at least for a short time as the leaders of the meeting". The Duke nodded slowly. "I see" was all the Duke said as he unfolded his arms and leaned back in his chair. "Marchand will think that the terms had already been conveyed to us informally and we are merely confirming what we think they want. Marchand is thrown off balance of having no prior knowledge and their delegation will assume that somebody from their staff or our staff mucked up" said the Duke, almost in a whisper. Darc pursed his lips and nodded. "Good. What are the chances Marchand will not agree?" asked Darc as a rhetorical question. They both thought for several moments. "I will ensure this happens" the Duke said in a manner so coldly that Darc's hair almost stood on end.

"Marchand is low on political capital. The national assembly is utterly deadlocked. Another month and they will put forward a bill for elections. I can veto the bill only IF Marchand will join us" said the Duke who had by now stood up and walked over to stoke the fire which burned in the fireplace. "Our economy is not great Darc. The world is changing. It is only a matter of time before Belmont tries again to bring the Francophone countries together into some loose union or alliance. If they lead that effort, they will position themselves as the chief Francophone power as far as the world's perception goes. We cannot allow those Belmontien bullies to run the region. For 200 years, they occupy Burgundian lands. For many more centuries they bully and try to make Burgundy a region of their bloated state. Bourgogne is not the little brother, Darc" said the Duke who now returned to his chair. He turned to see Darc's face, somewhat disturbed. "Oh come now Darc, I am not talking about war; defense treaty or not. Nobody wants that" the Duke said emphatically, seeing the look had not left Darc's face. Darc chose his words more carefully than usual; "Belmont will see a defense treaty by its neighbors as a challenge. Possibly as a serious military threat" said Darc. "You know how they are. They go by their knee-jerk reactions" he concluded. The Duke thought for a moment. "They will have to face the backlash for knee-jerk reactions in Belmont, not us not here. There is one thing we must address... We must consult Eiffelland. I will not endanger this alliance which has been built on friendship, respect, and of course marriage" said the Duke.

Before Darc could ask the Duke was quick. "Suitors for the Queen...yes" said the Duke who rubbed his chin. Darc knew to sit and listen and began to finish the weak coffee which was by now almost cold. "Obviously Prince Alan is not an option. I will not put us into that kind of a union. No, I should think Prince Robert would be ideal" said the Duke firmly, referring to his youngest nephew. The Duke did not care much for his youngest nephew. Their personalities were too polar to one another. "Darc, see to it that he is recalled immediately. Attach him to my military staff. For god sakes do not tell him any details" said the Duke who watched Darc furiously scribble on the front of a manila folder. Despite Darc's impressive skill, he often forgot a pen or paper; something the Duke found deeply irritating. Prince Robert, after graduating from Burgundy's military academy, selected a commission in the Colonial Forces; something that had shocked many, both in the military and ducal household. "You will inform him that his commission in the Colonial Forces is terminated. He will accept a commission in the Lancers or the Fusiliers or he will accept a job in the foreign service" said the Duke, who already was annoyed just thinking about Prince Robert. Prince Robert struck the Duke wrong, primarily for his dashing personality. Where the Duke was a more reserved person, Robert much like his father was not opposed to what the Duke referred to as 'gallivanting about'. Initially, the Duke tolerated Robert's behavior, almost a 'boys will be boys'. Now as Robert neared 25, the Duke became keenly aware that Robert was not taking his duties seriously. "Darc, have him here in 72 hours will you? It is time I have a chat with my nephew".

 

[Coeurleon]

Chateau d'Espeyrac, 9:30 am

An attack on Disannde’s forces during the Resistance left the 53-year-old Simon Fizes de Sauve with a limp. It only added to his air of dignity as he walked with his white staff – the symbol of his office. As Secretary of State for the Queen’s Household, he maintained a cabinet-level position but was not answerable to Parlement or the government of the day. Its title lent credence to the time when secretaries of state were literally the monarch’s personal assistant.

But it was his own personal assistant who carried the Sovereign’s Box behind him. A blue, leather box used to hold official correspondence from the government, Simon and his assistant approached the door at the end of the hallway. A young equerry dressed in his military uniform waited at the door. Approaching the door, Simon began to puff his cheeks.

‘Is The Queen ready?’ The equerry nodded. He knocked on the door twice, opened it and entered.

‘The Secretary of State for the Household,’ the young equerry said. Simon gathered himself, pulled his shoulders back and walked gracefully into the room. He banged his staff on the floor twice, calling for his assistant to place the Box on the royal desk. The Queen was still reading the papers, unmoved by the activities around her. Mssr. Fizes nodded toward the assistant, who acquiesced before his Sovereign as he left the room.

‘How is Your Majesty this morning?’ he asked while opening the Sovereign’s Box. She walked over from the chaise lounge in the brightly-lit room.

‘Very well, moniseur Fizes. Very well.’ Henrietta Maria gracefully walked from her chaise lounge near the window to her desk. She played with her long, pearl necklace as she waited for the papers. He placed one paper before her.

‘Majesty, I have compiled a list for the Royal Suite. The Foreign Office is waiting for your approval.’ Henrietta quickly read through the paper. Previous visits included her mother, sister, and other relations. She noted the decorated generals, exalted diplomats – even the entire Cabinet – on the list.

‘Is Catherine not part of the Suite?’ Simon began to puff cheeks.

‘As heiress-presumptive to the throne, Her Royal Highness The Princess Catherine must remain in the Kingdom, along with Your Majesty’s uncle and cousins,’ he said as the queen withdrew her fountain pen. ‘In case of the…erhm…demise of the Crown, Madame…’ Henrietta’s eyes widened, realizing by what he meant. A sigh pursed from her lips as she caved into her chair.

‘Very well,’ she nodded. Simon smiled as he handed the young monarch the next paper of business. ‘Grandmama tells we are to find a husband as well.’

‘We all hope the health and prosperity of the Espeyrac line, Your Majesty.’

‘But why must I married a foreign prince? There are plenty of eligible nobles in Coeurleon, no?’ She signed her name – HENRICIA MARIA R – on a document from the Treasury. ‘The Prince de Valentinois, for example.

‘Royal blood is a unique asset, Your Majesty.’ Simon adjusted his badge of office – a gold key set on a blue ribbon – on his side.

‘Does the Prince not have royal blood?’

‘Your Majesty’s third cousin, twice removed.’

‘Then why not him? He is charming, courageous, dutiful – a perfect gentleman by all accounts.’

‘But a foreign match will only strengthen the bonds between nations, Majesty,’ Simon answered casually as he puffed his cheeks. ‘From your Ambassador in Burgogne, we shall find you a husband that you can look up to, that can provide you advice, one who can console you.’

‘I am told wives must be dutiful to their husbands,’ the queen said as she moved an auburn curl from her face. ‘But my husband shall look up to me. And I shall seek advice from my counselors and ministers. We are not a simple wife.’

Simon remained quiet.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

"Will that be all sir?" asked the part-time librarian Keller, a retired army Sergeant Major. Keller and the Duke had become close, nearly to that of friends. The Duke nodded and Keller left the small palace library that held around 5000 volumes. Keller sometimes took books home and the Duke kindly ignored the infraction. The Duke sat at a small wooden roll top desk in a corner, sipping tea and reading 'A Brief History of Coeurleon 1800-Present'. The Duke, a voracious reader, was reading one of three books he planned to read in preparation for the upcoming visit. He closed the book and pushed away from the desk, moving to stand at one of the tall windows which looked out over the courtyard. He stared for a few moments, deep in thought before returning to the desk where he furiously began jotting down notes. The Duke was briefly aware of some commotion taking place outside the great cherry wood doors of the library. He turned in his seat, looking over his shoulder with a frown. Suddenly the doors burst open and his youngest nephew, Prince Robert entered. The two did not get along entirely well, both possessing a-type personalities. Robert was independent and had an adventurous way about him which sometimes bordered on boyish recklessness. Tall and fair haired, Robert's angular face paired well with the comparatively shabby khaki uniform of the Colonial forces. "Uncle!" Robert exclaimed, extending a hand. Duke Maximilien met Robert in the entrance, shaking his hand firmly. Without a word, the Duke guided his nephew to an alcove with comfortable chairs. After inquiring about the trip, the Duke asked Robert if he had seen his mother; which he had not and instead came directly to the palace. "Uncle, this is unfair" Robert began immediately. The Duke held up his hand, quieting the headstrong Prince. "I need you for input on developing situations in the colony. I want your personal input. Then after your time is done on my staff, you may return to service as a member of one of the Guard regiments or join the foreign service" said the Duke softly. "Uncle, I love the colonial service" said Robert, emphatically. "Duty is not always kind" said the Duke, hiding his annoyance. Robert frowned intently. "Sometimes our duty as the Ducal household is not easy. One day you will have great responsibility at your grasp. Until then you must learn how to move your fingers to make that grasp. We will have a formal meeting for colonial interests on the 23rd-28th. I expect you to be fully prepared. Darc will ask you to write some opinion briefs. I don't need to trouble you with this now. A room has been cleared for you" said the Duke, passively. "I wish you to be present for an upcoming diplomatic meeting as well. I will require your input there as well" said the Duke who now stood. "We shall talk more at dinner nephew" said the Duke as he walked away, stopping at the rolltop desk to retrieve his tea before leaving the library; leaving Prince Robert speechless.

 

[Holy Frankish Empire]

Chagny

A light snow had passed in the night, covering the roofs of Chagny in a light dusting. Clouds covered the sun, giving Chagny a gray filter. Chagny's new airport, 2 miles from the city, was particularly busy on Tuesdays. Unlike other cities like Villesen or Ysan, Chagny did not act as a major hub for air traffic. However, Tuesdays and Saturdays showed an uptick in hub activity. Chagny's airport was busy for another reason: a state visit. With the emergency runway cordoned off, it was to be used not for an emergency but for receiving the diplomatic mission. First Consul Marchand waited patiently for the plane to taxi to the stairs which led to a red and yellow carpet which ran for 30 feet. There was not a mass fanfare as the frigid temperature required fast transition to the line of Rambouillet 55 ES's which were ready to take the entire group directly to the Ducal Residence. Those staff who may be staying at a hotel would then be transported only after stopping at the palace. Marchand glanced at the two flags which sat almost motionless, standing on either side of the short carpet. He then looked over his shoulder at the small group of aides and security officers who stood outside also waiting. Marchand, a practical man, hated even this manner of protocol.