Serenierre
Established Nation
Chateau de l'République
Villesen, BEL
Villesen, BEL
President Claude Auguste, a man in his seventies, a law professor for the majority of those years, was sitting alone in the Green Drawing Room, one of the smaller state rooms in the massive former royal palace. The newspapers of the day were laid before him on his lap and beside him on the sofa. With his glasses on the tip of his nose, the man scanned through the headlines, though he stopped when he read about the fishing dispute with Ivernia heating up. He sighed. The issue had become the bane of existence for the Government of Belmont, if he was to believe what Premier Martinique had told him the last time she had met him.
A knock on the door. He looked up to see his Chief Secretary standing in the doorway. "Sir, the Tirderre MPs have arrived and are waiting for you in the Blue State Room."
"Alright," he said as he held onto his cane and stood up. Over the years his knees had started giving up on him and lately he had seen that his cane was a much more important aspect of his life.
The Members of Parliament from Tirderre, numbering twenty, arrived at the presidential palace on time, as could be expected. Some of them were coming directly from the Parliament, after the commencement of the afternoon session of the parliamentary committees. As he walked into the Blue State Room, which was once the audience chamber of the toppled monarchy, the MPs, who had talking amongst themselves, quieted down and stood up to welcome the man. Walking carefully past each one, he shook the MPs' hands and then took his seat on one of the sofas facing the rose garden.
As President, serving what was nothing more than a ceremonial position, a crowning glory in the end of his days, Claude Auguste had become used to conducting such social events. Diplomats and politicians were the sort of people he met most often but on occasion he would meet people from all over the country, owners of businesses, directors of NGOs or charities, teachers, doctors, children. They all came here. But in an unofficial capacity meetings such as this gave him a brilliant opportunity to speak with people about things that could possibly be of interest to the government. He was, in a sense, the benevolent grandfather to the nation. Listening to and indulging everyone, and most importantly not offending anyone.
As the meeting got underway, the mood was decidedly relaxed, given how formal the gathering was. "So my good friend," he turned to speak to the parliamentary leader for the nationalist PD, "What is this I hear of Ivernian flags on our vessels?"
A knock on the door. He looked up to see his Chief Secretary standing in the doorway. "Sir, the Tirderre MPs have arrived and are waiting for you in the Blue State Room."
"Alright," he said as he held onto his cane and stood up. Over the years his knees had started giving up on him and lately he had seen that his cane was a much more important aspect of his life.
The Members of Parliament from Tirderre, numbering twenty, arrived at the presidential palace on time, as could be expected. Some of them were coming directly from the Parliament, after the commencement of the afternoon session of the parliamentary committees. As he walked into the Blue State Room, which was once the audience chamber of the toppled monarchy, the MPs, who had talking amongst themselves, quieted down and stood up to welcome the man. Walking carefully past each one, he shook the MPs' hands and then took his seat on one of the sofas facing the rose garden.
As President, serving what was nothing more than a ceremonial position, a crowning glory in the end of his days, Claude Auguste had become used to conducting such social events. Diplomats and politicians were the sort of people he met most often but on occasion he would meet people from all over the country, owners of businesses, directors of NGOs or charities, teachers, doctors, children. They all came here. But in an unofficial capacity meetings such as this gave him a brilliant opportunity to speak with people about things that could possibly be of interest to the government. He was, in a sense, the benevolent grandfather to the nation. Listening to and indulging everyone, and most importantly not offending anyone.
As the meeting got underway, the mood was decidedly relaxed, given how formal the gathering was. "So my good friend," he turned to speak to the parliamentary leader for the nationalist PD, "What is this I hear of Ivernian flags on our vessels?"