The Iron Crown

[Gunnland]

Cathedral of St. Andrew, Windhaven​

Four horses plod through snowy streets, every steaming breath visible to bundled crowds pressed against Gothic buildings. Snow magnifies silence; silence magnifies the jangling carriage reins. What can be more picturesque than snow-covered old university towns? Even the baroque Gunns that vastly preferred Gallia to the "anus mundi," said the sight of Windhaven was worth their arduous journeys north. Today's journey is almost as arduous. The GDWR and the WHR have brought out the old steam engines for Coronation Day. Always aesthetics over modern efficiency; it's the Gunnish way.

Mass is mercifully short, even with the eighth sacrament. But it seems like an eternity to Julian for the corpulent Bishop of Ayr to place the Iron Crown on her head, so named for the thin dull band in the silver circlet made from nails from Jesus' cross, and to hand her the golden globus cruciger. Unpleasantly for her, her back is to the audience. Thank God it's not Cardinal Stewart crowning me. Anxiety gives her a moment of clarity. Have I announced my accession now only because that snake is in conclave?

Spider! She is actually glad to see Robert Gunn among the eight kilt-clad thegns, like fools in motley beside the altar. But he is an arachnid to her, scuttling between the government and the Stone Chair, Ayr banks and Seaguard factories. Gunnland is his web. He approaches with the final item of regalia, the Sword-From-Across-the-Water, and lays the claymore across her lap. What will happen if I cut his web?

 

[Elben]

Friedrich Maria watched from his assigned place. The old man wore a somber expression as he watched the rites taking place, remembering decades ago when he had undergone similar rituals that confirmed in him the majesty of kings. Now this girl was undergoing the same, taking on the same heavy burden. Her back was to the congregation, the slight figure standing out amid the bulky vestments of the ecclesiastics.

Amid the magnificent gifts brought to commemorate the day, there was a rare first edition of In My Father's House from the royal collection. Friedrich hoped Julian might take solace in Irulan's account of life in the royal creche.

 

[Tyonic Confederacy]

Wilhelm and Elma sat in their assigned seat and watched as the newly appointed Queen Julian receive gift after gift, including their own gift of a small silver chest filled with some of the finest chocolate in all of Europe. It is always a constant worry as to whether or not the gift was the right choice for ceremonies like these, but he felt that it would have been a fine choice.

It had been many years since he ascended the throne, but his mind drifted to the small entourage of officials that were with him. And the diplomatic talks that lay ahead between himself and the royalty of the neighboring kingdoms.

 

[Gunnland]

The Freehold, Windhaven
​

She is a slender reed, Robert thought as he laid the sword on the queen's ermine lap. Dignified solemnity is an expression that eluded Julian. The hint of a smirk is too wry, too haughty, too defensive. Weakness. Good thing she faces the altar. She is only nineteen! Robert walked back to the altar rail, passing Duncan MacLeish's enormous bald head protruding from his light blue great kilt. They will eat her alive! The organ blared. Bishop Broithe, the priests, and acolytes wrapped furs over their vestments. For once, the processional cross would leave the cathedral, and lead the procession over the Wash to the Freehold. Robert hoped he would remember how to ride a horse: by tradition, the eight chiefs would be the mounted rearguard.

Her Majesty's government clears out of the medieval fortress on Coronation Day. Even the prime minister is not invited. Leader Blackthorn, of course, declines to attend simply as the fiancé of the MacLeod duchess. The state dinner is a family affair: a gathering of that great extended family of the rulers of Christendom. (The Foreign Office functionary who thought Bergenheim was some kind of Engellexic-style princely republic has already been fired.)

The arachnid "steward" and Gunn chief managed not to fall off his horse. When Robert walked into the Great Hall of the Freehold, he scanned the high table. There were a few empty seats. He wondered if Grand Duke Charles and the old High King of Warreland would come -- if not, they would be filled according to the Gunnish order of peerage. Robert hoped it would not come to this. The reactions of the Burgundians, in particular, would be interesting to watch when Queen Julian gave her brief accession speech, outlining her foreign policy vision. These diplomatic statements, Robert knew, would lag behind the military planning going on in a small upper dining room between his friend Colonel Stephen MacGarry, Assistant Minister Prochnow from Geotri, and the deputy chief of Elben's general staff.

FYI:

SEATING ARRANGEMENTS (order of precedence): a5,a3,b4,b5,b3,b6, b2, a6,a2,b7,b1,a7,a1

[b1 G. Muller][b2 Q Elma][b3 K Wilhelm][b4 GD Charles?][b5 GD Sophie?][b6 HK Mael Coluim][b7 P Caitriona]
[a1 Mrs. Muller][a2 Q Marinka][a3 K Albrecht][a4 Queen Julian][a5 K Friedrich Maria][a6 HK Anlon? ][a7 HQ Rebecca?]

Gunnish peers, in order of peerage, to take the empty seats (NB: the title "Lord of the Isles," historically the MacLeish, is vacant):

Joachas Gunn (Duke of Clyth), age 5, brother to Queen Julian
[Chief] Mary "Molly" MacLeod (Duchess of L Marpesia and Countess of Arundel), age 30, fiancée of Leader Blackthorn
William Gunn Wilson (Earl of Tayr), age 71, stutters, conquered the MacLeish isles, vendetta vs Dr. Von Bernrode of Eiffelland
[Chief] James Buchanan (Earl of Uishcaster), age 68, traditional, old-fashioned, loyal Gunn ally, designated executioner​

 

[Elben]

Friedrich was dressed in the finery of Elben's army with all the badges of rank denoting his status as supreme warlord. There was also the star that proclaimed him to be grand master of the BSD. The white hair, still rather thick, the cavalry mustache, and the monocle completed the look. His valets had made sure their king was properly spruced up for the occasion.

 

[Gunnland]

An upstairs room.
The Freehold, Windhaven
​

Nothing about Colonel MacGarry marked him for a military man. His face was too friendly, his manner to conciliatory, his expressions too sensitive and thoughtful. He smiled at Assistant Minister Prochnow and the Elbenese officer. "So, this is the draft of the treaty we propose. Her Majesty wishes to initiate this treaty in the coming weeks, if it is acceptable to your respective governments, and immediately extend membership offers to Warre and Caledonia before news of the treaty leaks out."

He pulled his green collar, with its gold thistle rank insignia. "Washbridge House, our Foreign Office, believes that both Chagny and Ivar will accept a strong statement of the non-alignment of the northern kingdoms. It is not in our interest, as I'm sure you realize, to amount to buffer states in either the grand strategies of the communists or the Gallian great powers."

Windhaven Treaty of Non-Alignment and Mutual Defense
Proem. The ancient realms of the north have lived in peace with one another for centuries. None will divide and conquer the north.
Art. 1. The parties to this treaty will henceforth settle disputes among themselves in the Council of the North (hereafter: "Council").
Art. 2. The parties will both by self-help and mutual aid maintain individual and collective capacity to resist armed invasion.
Art. 3. The parties will consult with one another when, in the opinion of any one party, the security of any of the parties is threatened.
Art. 4. The parties will consider any attack upon any one party to this treaty an attack upon all parties to this treaty.
Art. 5. The parties will not allow permanent peacetime military bases of countries not party to this treaty in their territory.
Art. 6. Articles 2, 3, 4 and 5 will apply only to the territories of the parties north of the 53rd parallel and west of the 63rd meridian.
Art. 7. The parties establish a permanent Council, so organized as to meet promptly at any time, to implement the treaty.
Art. 8. The parties may, by unanimous agreement, invite new members to become parties to this treaty.
Art. 9. After this treaty has been in force ten years, any party may quit the agreement one year after depositing notice of its withdrawal.

 

[Tyonic Confederacy]

Prochnow had served his time within the armed forces, but his expertise was with the diplomatic talks that accompanied his office. He read and then reread the document to fully analyze what was being handed to him, and much to his amusement it was a rather well drafted document. But, this was still a draft and still had some issues that he found.

"I agree that there should be a council in charge of this treaty organization, but we should outline its powers as to better suit this treaty you have proposed. I propose another article that outlines the powers of the Council, like the establishment of bases and training exercises, connecting lines of intelligence so as to share information regarding the threats against any member of this treaty, etc. etc."

 

[Rheinbund]

It had been a moment of short consideration whether Prince Ludwig would travel to Windhaven as well, but in the end the decision was taken that he would not do so. The reason was that the coronation was an official event to be witnessed by monarchs and their consorts; Ludwig would not have a place there. King Albrecht was happy afterwards that they had taken that decision; he had received an SMS about the article in Schau! with a supposed love-affair of Prince Ludwig and Queen Julian as topic. That article was a lie, or at least a misinterpretation of certain signals. Ludwig and Julian didn't have a relationship; they were friends.

King Albrecht was 61 years old, with partly grey partly dark-blonde hair. He still had an athletic body because of his taekwon-do trainings. He wore the uniform of an Eiffellandian fleet admiral, of course also with the stars indicating of which Eiffellandian orders he was the grand-master. His wife Queen Marinka was a charming appearance in her long light-blue and highly closing dress. She used to be light-blonde, but now she was grey, although she had her hair painted in her original colour.

 

[Gunnland]

Two days before the coronation.
The Black Keep, Windhaven
​

Once more, Julian had taken Robert by surprise to sob all over him. "I'm just like them... I am one of them." It had been a stressful day. The nineteen year-old queen, without the knowledge of her government, had negotiated the withdrawal of Xinhaiese forces from Calidia. There were whoops and hollers when Madeleine MacNicholls brought the letter -- from Marshal Moravscik himself! Adelaide Elmert popped a bottle of Burgundian champagne; though she was older than these teenage girls by almost a decade, she never played a conventional restraining influence role. Julian pulled Ashild Skov away from polishing the Iron Crown, lifting the cowering cyclist by her muscular thighs in an exuberant dance of considerable effort. Laughter. The four women of the royal household, survivors all, survive again!

Then came the angry phone calls. Prime Minister Gallagher quit -- she had to beg him to remain at the Foreign Office. Leader Blackthorn said she disrespected their diplomats, alienated Gunnland's allies, and compromised national security. Julian trembled with barely restrained anger. Adelaide, ever sensitive to her queen's mood, brushed the blonde hair she professed to love. Just then, Ashild walked nervously around the large 16th-century tapestry of Alexander conquering Windhaven, hands clasped in front of her. "Majesty, an underminister from Bergenheim received two guest-of-honor invitations, and the Duke d'Ascona has not received an invitation." The invitations, her only job! In a flash, Julian had snatched the hair brush, and her most timid lady-in-waiting didn't even raise an arm in self-defense.

Some hours later Julian was still crying. "I'm as cruel as... as him!" The woven likeness of King Alexander, lancing some unfortunate man-at-arms through the eye, stared down at Robert Gunn. Ashild was off rectifying her mistake; Adelaide was bringing a silver tray with three brandy snifters. Robert put his hands on Julian's shoulders, forcing her to stand up straight. "The southerners think cruelty is the worst we do, Juli. But sin is. Be firm but just, and Ashild will be fine. All your subjects will." Julian smiled, but out of the corner of his eye, Robert saw Adelaide give a skeptical look. "Tomorrow we will get Jake, Denis, and Steve together at Washbridge and come up with a foreign policy."

 

[Bergenheim]

Second Hand Gerhard Mueller sat rigidly tall in his seat, uncomfortably aware of the uniformed, decorated royals surrounding him. He felt like a stark, black and white blemish breaking up the sea of rich, luxurious colours around him, ribbons, silks, imperial blues and reds, gold sashes...and there he sat, a pale, tall man with a moustache, in a stark black business suit, like the Usher at a funeral. His wife sat next to him in her best dress, which made her look...well, like a dowdy church-going spinster by comparison to the Queens and Princesses around.

Unlike him, however, Mrs Mueller seemed to naturally take to the air of a Duchess, and was conversing with some Lady as naturally as a fellow member of her Church Bridge Club. "Mmm yes, the fashion in Windhaven is positively ghastly. You must come shopping with me in Chagny..."

Gerhard held his hands at his side, rigid as a plank. He turned his head with painful slowness, a terrifying rictus grin frozen on his plastered face. The man next to him probably outranked him by an order of magnitude. Damn that blasted airheaded bimbo, why did she have to get the appointment? I could have been sipping champagne with Jedreck, discussing philosophy and the smashing of International Communism. Instead I'm...here.

"Nice coronation isnt it? ahahahahah!" he forced a jovial laugh, which came out as being slightly insane and manic.

The glares of aristocrats penetrated his soul and left him writhing in agony. Nothing outwardly changed, however.

He briefly wondered what might have happened if that carpet-licking barbarian Lotti Degurechaff had been sent here, instead of Trier. A massacre, he imagined, with newly crowned Holy Tiburan Empress Lotti I sitting where Julian shortly would be. He shuddered. What a mess his once orderly government had become. An elderly crone in charge,a blonde bimbo in his job, and a bloodthirsty pint-sized lesbian warlord in charge of defence. Oh, and to cap it off, the Chief Judge was a bible-thumping reformist whose own stern battle-axe of a wife went to Bridge Club with his own wife.

He sighed, still remembering forlornly the way all his expensive champagne had been poured out. Sybil had decided they would be teetoal from now on. This was going to be a very long and arduous affair indeed...

 

[Elben]

The Freehold, upstairs...

General Steiner of the Great General Staff read through draft treaty with interest. In his mind's eye, he could see a map of the northern kingdoms and what the boundaries set by the lines of latitude and longitude meant. He nodded vaguely to himself, but then looked up as Prochnow spoke. "Perhaps one more article, something along the lines of how the best avenues of self help and mutual assistance will be decided by the council."

The Freehold, the Great Hall...

Friedrich Maria greeted the Eiffellandians. "Albrecht, always a pleasure. You are looking very well! And your lovely wife! Marinka, you'll put the new queen to shame looking like that." The old man, having at least a decade on Albrecht, chuckled and took a gulp of his wine.

 

[Gunnland]

The Freehold, Windhaven
​

"Your gift is too kind, Friedrich Maria. I feel a bond sometimes with Irulan. I too worry we pay for the violence of our ancestors." "I adore Radeberg. Your people are so gracious to me, Marinka." "What a warm and personal gift, Wilhelm. Who is the royal chocolatier? Did you put him up to this, Elma?" "So what exactly do you do in Bergenheim, Underminister Mueller?" And so on. Mostly warm words, prepared carefully. Words, like the food, a mix of Gunnish tradition and milder dishes. Adelaide, Ashild, Madeline, dressed in Gunn livery, serve plate after plate. Crown roasts of lamb filled with barley salad, surrounded by generous dollops of clear mint jelly. Wild boar sausages with caramelized onions. Pheasant eggs Gunnish style. And, of course, haggis. "Those whom God has not graced with our northern palate," Julian says, "can look forward to rhubarb pie and shortbread."

Duncan MacLeish watches from a table with the lesser chiefs. Sworn enemies to one another, their silence is a study in contrast to the affected conversation at the high table. Where the Lord of the Isles ought to sit. He would like to have brought the queen mother, but few know that Deoiridh is alive; the MacLeish is not one to make a scene to no clear advantage. Duncan uses his wife's nickname for Adelaide Elmert: "Rachida won't look at me," he tells his blonde consort, Robin Lang, a swimmer of his, "So you're safe as my favorite." Robin laughs falsely and calculates it is now appropriate to affectionately touch his close-trimmed white beard, then put her hand on his barrel-stave chest. The shipping magnate consoles himself that he was wealthier than almost anyone at the high table, perhaps all of them, and does whatever he likes. Then there is a tinkling of crystal. A speech.

"Honored guests," Julian stands, slightly nervous, and looks around with a frozen smile before continuing. "Welcome and thank you. I raise a toast, if you shall join me..." Glasses are raised. "...to my late father Josias, a friend to many here, who would be king still but for his... tragic death three years ago." Death. Not accident. "And to my father's dream of peace. Peace, I believe, will come when the north stands apart from the crisis in Central Gallogermania, and when the north stands together, as a family of kingdoms that no foreign agenda will kidnap." Kidnap.

The queen locks eyes with the MacLeish as the hall reacts to her toast.

 

[Tyonic Confederacy]

The Freehold, Downstairs

Pleasantries were exchanged between the royal members and the other guests, who unlike the rest was not royalty. Confused as he may be, walked up beside him before taking his seat. He decided he would be somewhat friendly to these people, knowing that they were of some importance if they were to be invited here. "Relax Mr. Mueller, we may be royalty but you clearly a man high in position within government. From Bergenheim if I recall correctly? How is it there?"

He would eventually take his seat next to his wife before the toasting would begin, raising his glass with the others listening intently to the words Queen Julian said. Noticed her word usage was interesting, to the extent of his knowledge King Josias had died to an accident. If it were an accident she would have more than likely just said accident, maybe something else was there in the investigation that was not released to us. But, the kidnap reference flew right over his head.

 

[Elben]

The kings of Elben had royal residences around their kingdom. One of them was in the west near the border with Gunnland. It was staffed by ethnic Gunnish, including the kitchen. Friedrich Maria was glad now as he ate and drank in good measure all the dishes placed before him, especially the haggis.

At the queen's warm words regarding his gift, he smiled and nodded, taking them at face value. Why not? Eating, drinking, making merry. Again Julian was speaking, having risen to give a toast. The king from his vantage at her right listened while giving her slender figure a glance. Nerves. And nervy.

At the end, the king rose beside Julian before anyone else could react and called, "To Josias. And to his daughter, long may she reign!"

 

[Natal]

King Mael Coluim was looking at the coronation ceremony and he was wondering if Queen Julian is as nervous as he was five years ago. He shouldn't have been king, but fate seemed to think otherwise. His uncle was the heir to the Boreal throne, but he decided to become a monk and go to the monastery, thus losing his rights to become king. A year before king Eanruig II died, his uncle returned and retook his position as first in line of succession. After he reigned as Mael Coluim IV for around three to four years, he had a race car accident, as he had the same sporting passion like the King of Jutland. So, after he died childless, the crown passed to his brother, Aindreas III, Mael Coluim's father. He took was took a bit too early, after eleven years, when he died of stomach cancer, thus the crown passing to him, Mael Coluim V. He was nervous back in the day, when he was crowned, he remembered seeing King Josias in the room at his ceremony. He presumed Queen Julian was as nervous as he was then, but he thought that she is more successful at hiding it than he was. The Caledonians brought a white gold brooch decorated with Loagin diamonds and with Celtic symbols, the central one being a boar with two emeralds for eyes, as a gift for the newly crowned queen.

As they were seated at the table, Mael Coluim rose up to his reputation of being extremely taciturn. While his younger sister was joining in the talks and took an interest in the Muellers, asking them more about their country and professing interest of visiting it, Mael Coluim looked around. At his only 25 years, he was the youngest crowned head around, with the exception of the host. His sister, Princess Caitriona was of Julian's age. He looked a bit at the Elbenese monarch, and was amused by how extroverted he was, talking joyfully with everyone. He put his hand in his ginger hair, to arrange it. It was a tic that he developed since he was crowned and he was doing it when he was nervous. When the gifts were presented he went to queen Julian: "It is a replica of the brooch worn by a Gunnish princess with the same name as you, whom later become the High Queen of Caledonia by marrying King Artur IV, in the late 1500s. I hope that this brooch will be reaffirmation of the bond that existed in history between our countries and I hope that it will continue in the future for a long time after we will be gone."

The Gunnish cuisine wasn't a surprise for Mael Coluim. It was nearly the same as the traditional Caledonian one, even the haggis. Though he spent much of his childhood in Loago and grew accustomed to spicier meals, he found the food more savory than what you would find in Caledonia. When the toast came, he couldn't but observe the way she stressed the last word. Kidnap. Especially with her disappearance scandal a few months before, it was something which made him think that he would have avoided the word. He toasted, thinking that she might deserve some attention in the future, as she seemed much more feisty than he expected.

 

[Rheinbund]

Of course King Albrecht and Queen Marinka had brought a present as well. The present of choice was a combination of books: First press examples of Wilhem Meisters Lehrjahre and Wilhelm Meisters Wanderjahre by Goethe (of course Eiffellandian books had to be given as well), but also some rare antique examples of Gunnish books with medieval tales (comparable with the Canterbury Tales; it was considered wise not to come with knight stories) that the Royal Couple had managed to acquire on the international antique market.

The Gunnish cuisine was a surprise to King Albrecht and Queen Marinka. They were culturally open enough to give the haggis a chance, and had such good manners (and of course the Eiffellandian poker face) that nobody noticed that they did not really enjoy the haggis. They really enjoyed the rest of the dishes.
After King Friedrich Maria, King Albrecht rose, and said: “To His Majresty King Josias, may he rest in peace. To Her Majesty Queen Julian, may her reign be long and fruitful. And of course to the future of this beautiful country Gunnland, may it prosper under Queen Julian’s rule.”
Of course both the King and the Queen realised the layer under Queen Julian’s speech very well. They knew about the kidnap; Julian had talked about it with Prince Ludwig. They also knew Gunnland well enough to understand that King Josias’s death was not necessarily an accident. Furthermore, that was a concept that was very well known in Eiffelland: Killing people in such a way that it looked like an accident. Eiffellandian crime syndicates did it that way, the Eiffellandian secret service did it that way as well (or let people just “disappear”).

The Eiffellandian Royal Couple realised very well that the invitation for the Bergenheimer Underminister was a mistake. But mistake or not, the invitation was handed out, so Mr. and Mrs. Mueller were to be treated as equals. And treating Underminister Mueller and his wife as equals was what they did, altough out of Eiffellandian formalism, they did call Mr. Mueller Herr Unterminister Mueller; the man was an underminister, so that was the title he had to be adressed with. A plain and simple fact to Eiffellandians. Conversations in Eiffelland were easy in the beginning: Use the correct form of adress and use Sie, and then everything went well.

 

[Bergenheim]

Mueller grimaced as he was approached by the Geotri delegation. A painful reminder that, whatever Bergenheim said or how it labelled its archaic system of governance, he would always be considered to be junior, to be secondary in importance abroad.

"I assure you my government takes this coronation very seriously." he said through gritted teeth. "I am the Second Hand, after all."

Further words were thankfully unneeded, as the Royal Family of Eiffeland arrived, and Mueller was able to legitimately disengage from this awkward conversation, in order to greet these new monarchs...

and immediately enter into an even more awkward conversation.

Given their centuries of proximity and close cultural and linguistic ties, one would imagine that the Bergenheimer and Eiffelander people would get on very well. Indeed, if one listened to official state rhetoric, Eiffeland was a brother nation, whose economic and political ties were vital to the mountain nation's well being and survival.

But the truth was, that one on one, even regular Eiffelandians were generally disliked by Bergenheimers. The more blunt and direct mountain-folk found the more urbane Germanians to be cold, disdainful, and thoroughly "elvish". The Muellers, who came from the salt of the earth, were about as Bergenheimer as one could get, and the Royal Couple, were about as thoroughly Eiffelandian as one could get.

Naturally, Herr Unterminister Mueller was quick to prostrate himself before such supreme authority.

The subtleties of the other intrigues going on at this dinner were quite lost on the Muellers, which was probably just as well.

"A pleasure as always." Muller effused, unctuous to please. Whatever you do, Don't mention the war in Crotobaltislavonia.

"How are you finding the food?" he inquired, knowing that some pretense of conversation was required but having no idea how to proceed, and finding the long, dignified silence of the royals quite unbearable.

His wife, on the other hand, seemed far more at home with greeting Queen Marinka, and in that irritating and mysterious way of women seemed to have charmed her as well.

"Haggis is pretty ghastly stuff, eh?" he tried for a weak, forced joke. "Worse than Sauerkraut."

 

[Rheinbund]

"Hehe. Maybe, maybe not," the King replied to Mueller's joke about haggis with an understanding smile on his face. "But you know, de gustibus non est disputandum. The taste of haggis may be quite difficult to understand to us, but perhaps the Gunnish have the same problem with Wurst und Sauerkraut as we have with haggis. In any case, the Gunnish do know how to roast lamb, and the wild boar sausages were good as well."

 

[Elben]

The Freehold, upstairs...

Windhaven Treaty of Non-Alignment and Mutual Defense
Proem. The ancient realms of the north have lived in peace with one another for centuries. None will divide and conquer the north.
Art. 1. The parties to this treaty will henceforth settle disputes among themselves in the Council of the North (hereafter: "Council").
Art. 2. The parties will both by self-help and mutual aid maintain individual and collective capacity to resist armed invasion.
Art. 3. The parties will consult with one another when, in the opinion of any one party, the security of any of the parties is threatened.
Art. 4. The parties will consider any attack upon any one party to this treaty an attack upon all parties to this treaty.
Art. 5. The parties will not allow permanent peacetime military bases of countries not party to this treaty in their territory.
Art. 6. Articles 2, 3, 4 and 5 will apply only to the territories of the parties north of the 53rd parallel and west of the 63rd meridian.
Art. 7. The parties establish a permanent Council, so organized as to meet promptly at any time, to implement the treaty.
Art. 8. The parties may, by unanimous agreement, invite new members to become parties to this treaty.
Art. 9. The permanent Council will meet at least once a year for the purposes of determining the best methods for self-help and mutual aid.
Art. 10. After this treaty has been in force ten years, any party may quit the agreement one year after depositing notice of its withdrawal.​

The draft was quickly put together and submitted to those present for their approval before being passed on to their superiors. General Steiner smiled. "I think we can all move forward and discuss Warre and Caledonia, yes?" @Gunnland @Geotri

The Freehold, the Great Hall...

With toasting out of the way for the moment, Friedrich Maria continued with the feast, looking forward to dessert. Looking across the table to those he had not yet addressed, the king lifted his goblet and called to King Mael and Princess Caitriona, "Join me in a drink? Does Caledonia have any folk dances? I don't know what entertainments are planned, but I hope I might take a turn around with the young princess if there is any dancing later." @Caledonia

 

[Gunnland]

An upstairs room.
The Freehold, Windhaven
​

Colonel MacGarry nodded at General Steiner's suggestion. "Our idea for article seven is a standing council with permanent ambassadors from each country, to meet in Windhaven several times per week. I agree with you and Minister Prochnow that we ought to list the powers of this council and the nature of cooperation covered by Article 2. We have no objections to intelligence sharing or any other measures he suggests. Also, my government would like to invite Caledonia to sign this treaty as well immediately. We believe the membership of the Caledonians, if they are willing to join, will signal the region's commitment to armed neutrality."