08-02-2023, 03:03 AM
Kōt-Verte, Southwestern Auria
Queen Katherina of Auria sat in the old oak chair at her desk, examining the hairline cracks in the paint of her bedroom walls. The cottage the royal family had been assigned outside Kōt-Vert (Ćôte-Verte) was a bit run-down and dark, with dust and cobwebs in the corners. Still, it was one of the few larger estates that had escaped the bombing during the battles throughout Southwestern Auria, so the royals decided to take what they could get. Katherina's mother, the former Queen (now Queen Dowager) Sophie, had quickly tried to make the abandoned manor feel more homely, but there was only so much that she could do with the resources that they had.
She sighed and stood, unceremoniously falling over on her bed. Ever since she had been proclaimed Queen, her sleep had become restless, her mind plagued with endless thoughts and concerns. Not even when she was in exile in Eiria was her sleep this disturbed. I just wish I could be back in Lumiere, in my own bed, with our country safe and sound. I just want to go back…
A knock on her door caused her to jolt up, and she glanced at her reflection in a small mirror on the wall, making sure that she looked presentable. "Entriet." She said softly, standing up off of the bed. Her mother, the now Queen Dowager Sophie, walked through the door, her stride as even and regal as her title. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun, and the muted black Halar appeared suitable for both everyday use and the most formal of events.
"Sorry to disturb your rest, Kat. Just wanted to work out your outfit for tomorrow's Refugee Return Event. We have a few options, but you really should wear the royal purple. It sends a strong message, plus it compliments your hair." She rustled through a small closet on one side of the room until she pulled out a formal Halar that caught her eye. "You get that from your father. He always looked good in purple. I prefer greens and reds, in all honesty."
Katherina examined the outfit that had been selected for her. It wasn't terrible, but was too gaudy for her tastes, with a large embroidered Royal Seal on the chest and back. Her face must have revealed her displeasure, and her mother raised her eyebrow. "Hey, you should've seen the things they made your father and I wear. There's nothing like four layers of ceremonial outfits to make you roast alive. You should go try it on, and maybe you'll find that you like it more."
Without a word, Katherina took the robe from her mother and headed for the bathroom. As she put the outfit on, everything about it just felt wrong. The fabric was stifling, and every seam scratched and poked her skin. The collar was just slightly too tight, and the belt sash felt like it was slowly suffocating her. Worst of all, as she stared at herself in the mirror, Katherina felt like her outfit was made of lead, slowly pulling her down under its weight. She grit her teeth, took a moment to compose herself, and then went back out to face her mother.
Sophie smiled and clasped her hands as she saw her daughter walk out. "Aw, you look lovely in that. Come here, l'll braid your hair and then give you some jewelry to try on."
Katherina obliged, sitting down in her desk chair. Her mother's hands, while attempting to be delicate, still managed to hit every snarl and snag in her long hair, only adding to her annoyance. "Your hair has always been so long and beautiful. Long wavy hair runs in my side of the family. Your father, however, was either blessed or cursed with mildly curly hair, and for some reason, his mother demanded that he straighten it for years. Only she and the Angels know why on earth she demanded that. I always thought he was more dashing with his natural curls, but who knows what your grandmother was thinking."
As Katherina closed her eyes, memories of her father braiding her hair rushed back to her, and she slammed her hand on the table, her eyes filling with tears. Sophie stopped braiding as her daughter stood and walked towards the window. "How can you talk about him so casually?! He's been dead for three weeks, and I haven't seen you even remotely emotional once! No tears, nothing. The most mourning I've seen you do is wear black outfits. How can you be this detached?!"
Sophie, who was taken aback by this outburst, slowly turned and walked towards the door. "Answer me, please! Mom, why can't you at least cry for him?"
"Because I have no tears left!" Sophie shouted as she stood in the doorway, bracing one hand on the wall. "I have been crying for years. Since the accident. Since the coup, the assassinations, our exile. Eventually, I just… knew. I knew he wouldn't come back to us. I had done enough crying for several people at that point, and I still had people to lead, allies to gain, refugees to care for. I couldn't make them wait while I cried even more. I had to lead Auria." She looked her daughter in the eye, pain and sorrow on her face. "And now, you must learn the same lesson. Grieve for your father for however long you wish, but do not keep our people waiting. They're in your hands now."
The door slammed shut as the Queen Dowager left, leaving Katherina to ponder her words.
—
Lumiere, Auria
Prime Minister Sara Berenstein sat at the bar in the Palace's salon, swirling around the glass of Spēce in her hand. The salon was dim and dusty, with most of the support staff having gone home, fled the city, or been drafted or otherwise indisposed. I never noticed just how many staff worked in the palace before. The empty palace reflected the general state of the once-bustling capital city, as even the Aurians who remained in the capital rarely left home anymore. The waves of unrest had been briefly abated with the distribution of rations, but the Prime Minister knew that this calmness wouldn't last. Those damn Eirians and their puppets. They're starving us out and then making it look like it's our fault.
She downed the last of her drink and sneered, muttering insults under her breath. "Tut dei casei konadei vēles poivana kašet arvec kutōsei." Her tone was fraught with hatred and spite, and she slammed her fist on the bar out of frustration. "Kašēsei dei ezlišei, they think they can control us and we'll just accept it. The rest of the world may have fallen for their ruse, but I will never." Repeating the same propaganda slogan that she had used in her speeches countless times did little to make her feel better. We could lose this damn war.
A staffer peaked his head through the salon door, causing Berenstein to adopt a more neutral expression. "Excuse me, Kurena. The front line report just came in. Garda Command sent it over to the Intelligence Office, and they provided their notes on it."
She walked over and took the manilla envelope from him. "I take it that you looked through this?" At the staffer's nod, she asked another question. "And how does it say that we're doing on the front lines?"
The staffer's silence spoke volumes, and she tossed the envelope on the bar. "Of course it does. Brilliant." She rubbed her temples, trying to put her thoughts together. "This isn't working. We need to completely rethink our strategy here."
A thought occured to her, and she pursed her lips, getting close to a smile. "Tell the commanders to fall back to the most defendable positions they can find. Starting right now, I need a team of staffers to inventory every single item left in the Palace, in the treasury, and in the art galleries, museums, and banks around Lumiere. Every single asset that we can get should be documented and reported to me. I know that many museum and gallery pieces were either taken or hidden after the initial march on Lumiere, but still, write everything down."
The staffer nodded, then hesitated. "May I ask why, Prime Minister?"
"Because we need to talk with our Xiomeran benefactors. It does none of us any good to keep throwing troops at the front lines, so I'm going to negotiate a deal with the Empress about helping us evacuate and regroup." Berenstein sat down and opened up the military reports, before glancing back up at her aide. "Go on, hurry. If you want a seat on the boat out of here, you better make sure we have enough to bargain with the Xiomerans."
Queen Katherina of Auria sat in the old oak chair at her desk, examining the hairline cracks in the paint of her bedroom walls. The cottage the royal family had been assigned outside Kōt-Vert (Ćôte-Verte) was a bit run-down and dark, with dust and cobwebs in the corners. Still, it was one of the few larger estates that had escaped the bombing during the battles throughout Southwestern Auria, so the royals decided to take what they could get. Katherina's mother, the former Queen (now Queen Dowager) Sophie, had quickly tried to make the abandoned manor feel more homely, but there was only so much that she could do with the resources that they had.
She sighed and stood, unceremoniously falling over on her bed. Ever since she had been proclaimed Queen, her sleep had become restless, her mind plagued with endless thoughts and concerns. Not even when she was in exile in Eiria was her sleep this disturbed. I just wish I could be back in Lumiere, in my own bed, with our country safe and sound. I just want to go back…
A knock on her door caused her to jolt up, and she glanced at her reflection in a small mirror on the wall, making sure that she looked presentable. "Entriet." She said softly, standing up off of the bed. Her mother, the now Queen Dowager Sophie, walked through the door, her stride as even and regal as her title. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun, and the muted black Halar appeared suitable for both everyday use and the most formal of events.
"Sorry to disturb your rest, Kat. Just wanted to work out your outfit for tomorrow's Refugee Return Event. We have a few options, but you really should wear the royal purple. It sends a strong message, plus it compliments your hair." She rustled through a small closet on one side of the room until she pulled out a formal Halar that caught her eye. "You get that from your father. He always looked good in purple. I prefer greens and reds, in all honesty."
Katherina examined the outfit that had been selected for her. It wasn't terrible, but was too gaudy for her tastes, with a large embroidered Royal Seal on the chest and back. Her face must have revealed her displeasure, and her mother raised her eyebrow. "Hey, you should've seen the things they made your father and I wear. There's nothing like four layers of ceremonial outfits to make you roast alive. You should go try it on, and maybe you'll find that you like it more."
Without a word, Katherina took the robe from her mother and headed for the bathroom. As she put the outfit on, everything about it just felt wrong. The fabric was stifling, and every seam scratched and poked her skin. The collar was just slightly too tight, and the belt sash felt like it was slowly suffocating her. Worst of all, as she stared at herself in the mirror, Katherina felt like her outfit was made of lead, slowly pulling her down under its weight. She grit her teeth, took a moment to compose herself, and then went back out to face her mother.
Sophie smiled and clasped her hands as she saw her daughter walk out. "Aw, you look lovely in that. Come here, l'll braid your hair and then give you some jewelry to try on."
Katherina obliged, sitting down in her desk chair. Her mother's hands, while attempting to be delicate, still managed to hit every snarl and snag in her long hair, only adding to her annoyance. "Your hair has always been so long and beautiful. Long wavy hair runs in my side of the family. Your father, however, was either blessed or cursed with mildly curly hair, and for some reason, his mother demanded that he straighten it for years. Only she and the Angels know why on earth she demanded that. I always thought he was more dashing with his natural curls, but who knows what your grandmother was thinking."
As Katherina closed her eyes, memories of her father braiding her hair rushed back to her, and she slammed her hand on the table, her eyes filling with tears. Sophie stopped braiding as her daughter stood and walked towards the window. "How can you talk about him so casually?! He's been dead for three weeks, and I haven't seen you even remotely emotional once! No tears, nothing. The most mourning I've seen you do is wear black outfits. How can you be this detached?!"
Sophie, who was taken aback by this outburst, slowly turned and walked towards the door. "Answer me, please! Mom, why can't you at least cry for him?"
"Because I have no tears left!" Sophie shouted as she stood in the doorway, bracing one hand on the wall. "I have been crying for years. Since the accident. Since the coup, the assassinations, our exile. Eventually, I just… knew. I knew he wouldn't come back to us. I had done enough crying for several people at that point, and I still had people to lead, allies to gain, refugees to care for. I couldn't make them wait while I cried even more. I had to lead Auria." She looked her daughter in the eye, pain and sorrow on her face. "And now, you must learn the same lesson. Grieve for your father for however long you wish, but do not keep our people waiting. They're in your hands now."
The door slammed shut as the Queen Dowager left, leaving Katherina to ponder her words.
—
Lumiere, Auria
Prime Minister Sara Berenstein sat at the bar in the Palace's salon, swirling around the glass of Spēce in her hand. The salon was dim and dusty, with most of the support staff having gone home, fled the city, or been drafted or otherwise indisposed. I never noticed just how many staff worked in the palace before. The empty palace reflected the general state of the once-bustling capital city, as even the Aurians who remained in the capital rarely left home anymore. The waves of unrest had been briefly abated with the distribution of rations, but the Prime Minister knew that this calmness wouldn't last. Those damn Eirians and their puppets. They're starving us out and then making it look like it's our fault.
She downed the last of her drink and sneered, muttering insults under her breath. "Tut dei casei konadei vēles poivana kašet arvec kutōsei." Her tone was fraught with hatred and spite, and she slammed her fist on the bar out of frustration. "Kašēsei dei ezlišei, they think they can control us and we'll just accept it. The rest of the world may have fallen for their ruse, but I will never." Repeating the same propaganda slogan that she had used in her speeches countless times did little to make her feel better. We could lose this damn war.
A staffer peaked his head through the salon door, causing Berenstein to adopt a more neutral expression. "Excuse me, Kurena. The front line report just came in. Garda Command sent it over to the Intelligence Office, and they provided their notes on it."
She walked over and took the manilla envelope from him. "I take it that you looked through this?" At the staffer's nod, she asked another question. "And how does it say that we're doing on the front lines?"
The staffer's silence spoke volumes, and she tossed the envelope on the bar. "Of course it does. Brilliant." She rubbed her temples, trying to put her thoughts together. "This isn't working. We need to completely rethink our strategy here."
A thought occured to her, and she pursed her lips, getting close to a smile. "Tell the commanders to fall back to the most defendable positions they can find. Starting right now, I need a team of staffers to inventory every single item left in the Palace, in the treasury, and in the art galleries, museums, and banks around Lumiere. Every single asset that we can get should be documented and reported to me. I know that many museum and gallery pieces were either taken or hidden after the initial march on Lumiere, but still, write everything down."
The staffer nodded, then hesitated. "May I ask why, Prime Minister?"
"Because we need to talk with our Xiomeran benefactors. It does none of us any good to keep throwing troops at the front lines, so I'm going to negotiate a deal with the Empress about helping us evacuate and regroup." Berenstein sat down and opened up the military reports, before glancing back up at her aide. "Go on, hurry. If you want a seat on the boat out of here, you better make sure we have enough to bargain with the Xiomerans."
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