- Sep 30, 2014
- Athens, Greece
"Every country has its own scourge: Engellex has fog, Hajr has eye infections, Kurkhazia has locusts and Pelasgia has the Pelasgians." The words echoed through the narrow private room of the jet as Theodoros read them out. Over a century and half later, was as relevant as ever. Theodoros was a man approaching fourty years of age, of relatively strong build. Tall and broad, he was still fit enough to appear elegant in dark blue three-piece suit that he wore, sitting with his body facing half-away from the reading table before him. "Theodore," he heard a feminine voice say. As he looked up, his deep blue eyes gazed upon the slender figure of a blonde woman in a white dress. "Yes, dear?" he asked Natalja, closing the book before him. "The captain says we should be there in half an hour or so." She seemed stressed. He put his book away and stood up to comfort her.
"All will be fine dear," he said, "we have plenty of friends in Pelasgia still." She did not seem reassured. "And plenty of enemies," she added. "Yes, but they cannot hurt us; the Prime Minister himself wrote to me, as did the President. They have vowed to protect us." He caressed her back. "Last time they vowed that you had to leave the country," she pointed out. "And I had the pleasure of meeting you. Princess Natalja Smirnova, of the Tarusan landed aristocracy. I'd do it again." She smiled and teased him: "Most Pelasgian Sovereigns would do better than a distant cadet branch of the Imperial House." He teased her back: "Most Pelasgian Sovereigns were not from a cadet branch of the House of Laskaris themselves. They were born into the purple... as our youngest one will be." She laughed. "Come then," he said, seizing the moment, "all will be fine. They need us, this time around. This assures it." He held out a tablet from the website of the Pelasgian Common Parliament. She looked up dazzled; "Yes, they're finally reforming the electoral law. Which means that the liberals will need the Right on board, to keep the Left out of power. And what do you think the Right will ask for, since the Constitution is getting amended anyway? Old Admiral Notaras is getting tired of sitting in another man's chair." Natalja was positively ecstatic: her husband would no longer be a "tolerated" runaway, another man's glorified guest. Evidently, that had great implications for her own standing in the world.
He took her to a nearby seat to rest as the luxury jet began its descent to its final destination, near the border between the Meridian and Basilisk seas: Propontis International Airport "Attalos the Great". The plane would land in the VIP section of the airport, where it would be greeted by a guard of honour and the Prime Minister's right hand man: Stylianos Theoktistos, the Minister of Foreign Affairs. "Your Majesties," said the Minister discretely, revealing his (widely suspected) sympathies. He escorted the couple inside an armoured black SUV with dark windows, which formed part of a motorcade of similar cars. The motorcade headed for the Palace of Selymbria, an old imperial residence in the outskirts of the city, which had been kept as a secondary residence by the President of Pelasgia, who mostly resided in the Grand Palace of Propontis. Evidently, he was more than willing to house the palace's proper occupants there. For now, none of the Pelasgian public new of the welcome, as scenes of the whole endeavour had only been recorded by PERT, the state broadcaster, and then handed over to the Internal Security Directorate. The coming weeks would determine how that would change.
"Don't fuck me, Alexandros," said Nikolaos Angelopoulos, as he leaned over the balcony of the National Opera House's VIP lounge. "You know I hate those pricks as much as you do," he added. The Prime Minister's language and demeanour did not match his elegant formal wear one bit. "Well, Mr. Prime Minister, you're going to have to compromise one way or the other," said Gavriilidis. The leader of the opposition knew very well that his demands to support a liberal minority were untenable. What he wanted was to hop in, appear legitimate, then hop out, and hopefully win an election. "If you push me to the Right, I will deal with them then," Angelopoulos threatened, "I won't enjoy it, but I will. It has happened in the past, when the Left was equally intransigent." Gavriilidis laughed after taking a sip of champagne. "Oh really? We both know the condition they have for any such cooperation, since constitutional revision is on the menu. At least you can find the articles I want removed. Can you find a Laskaris?" Angelopoulos stood up straight and looked Gavriilidis in the eye. "Where there's a will, there's a way. I offer you one last chance. Don't make me do this. We're this close to a Pelasgia free of this medieval nonsense." Gavriilidis met his gaze defiantly for a short moment, but then looked away and laughed again. "You're bluffing, Nikolaos. We both know that your career is over. Enjoy the show," he said, and started walking away. The Prime Minister spoke under his breath, almost red with anger. "My career might be over," he said, "but I sure as hell am not bluffing."