Something went drastically wrong with the teleportation, and you felt shredded.  You are spread across space, and look down on a planet of Jabberwocks, and on one full of Bugs Bunny and his nine million children, and you pass the Soul Train flying between the stars...

And you hear clickety-clack, clickety-clack, whoooooooooo-hoooooooo, whooooooo-hoooooo.  The smell of smoke is in the air, along with leather.

You're draped on multiple somethings soft, with your feet above your head, your bottom lowest, and your head midway.

PT

At first I wonder if this is the way tehir transportation beam works, but then I begin to realize what has most likely happened.

'clickety-clack, clickety-clack, whoooooooooo-hoooooooo, whooooooo-hoooooo' I think... A train?  And why am I bent?

I try and move, to figure out what is going on.

You open your eyes, and see a luggage car in a train.  Candles high on the walls provide light, and outside a dark forest rushes past.

You're laying draped awkwardly on top of a pile of leather mail bags.

You struggle to your feet, and see at the other end of the car is your stuff, laying as you had it under the bed you had been sleeping on.

PT

I do my best to slip off the pile with grace.  I stettle for getting off the pile standing up.  I pick up my gear and take inventory of myself, my gear and surroundings.

I realize that the candles aren't the best of signs.  Either I'm on a haunted train novelty ride... or I'm in a pre-electric train.  I check for doors and hiding places.

Staggering to your feet, you see a door at each end of the car, and plentiful windows that could be openend.  There are large piles of luggage, you could worm behind, and be out of sight.  There is a large wooden chest you could fit into.  Lots of bags of cloth and leather.

There is upper storage compartments.  You have an abundance of hiding places.

You look over your gear, plus the new weapons given you on the Destiny.  You get it all packed up after making sure its all there.

PT

I clear out a hiding place on one of the shelves, making enough room for me and my gear.  I stow the gear and then look around for either nes papers or dates on the luggage tags.

I also check out the wooden chest.  As I explore the car, I find myself hoping that Ashe is all right.  I think that's going to be the hardest part of this whole thing: saying good-bye.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:35, Sat 27 May 2006.

You don't see numbers on the luggage, but only what you think are days, but in a foreign language that looks vaguely like English.  The leather bags you were laying on are sealed with brass clips on which is imprinted the following:

"Das Ruritanian Maiffe".

Opening the chest, you see a large china set with a letter on top, typed.

"Countessa Villeborg, the china set you requested for the wedding of your daughter, seventy-two pieces in the Barclay pattern, which is also used by HRM of England, is enclosed.  Please telegraph us if there are any difficulties with the shipment, and the felicitations of Winchester and Sons on the blessed event."

At the base of this receipt/letter is a line of another language in pencil, and an official looking stamp.  One of the words is "Guten".

PT

'Guten... Good... German. German....'

I contemplate what all that could mean: I'm in Germany; The Normans didn't win at hastings... too many possibilities, and I have no idea how they're going to react to me.

'Feliciations from Winchester and Sons...'

Deciding to take a wait and see approach I slip into my hiding place and wait.

You wait for a while, snoozing, and then you hear a door open.  A clatter of boots, sounding slow as if burdened down comes to your ears.

"Ah, yes. Here."  The bass male voice sounds concerned and thoughtful.

And then you hear a gargling sound, and a tenor voice say something excited in another language.  There's a clatter of metal, high and tinny.

And then the sound of vomitting.

"Guten, guten. Over indulge, and you pay the price. Yah?"

PT

I watched, or tried to. I tried to figure out as much as I could, and I tried to figure out if I was hearing English with German mixed in, or... if I was hearing German, but understanding it as English.

Confused I continued to take it all in.

You look out, and see two men flanking someone vomiting into a large metal bowl.  The one on the left is wearing a heavy black suit, and is bearded, and is obviously the stronger in mind and body of the two men.  The other is wearing a splendid red uniform, with gold braid, and a cavalry sabre at his hip.  He's tall and blonde and slim.

But the figure in the middle catches your attention.

Its ...you..well not quite.  There's the drunken dissolution in your face, and there is something else, the lines are slightly off.  Like she is your sister.


PT
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:12, Wed 31 May 2006.

My jaw drops and I try to move away, but I can't... it would be pointless at any rate.. I've seem me... I mean, she's seen me.

I look at her and put my finger to my lips.  If she wants.. we can be our secret, and I prefer it that way... I mean... My life, as it is now, is hard enough to explain to myself, let alone others.

Alone, we might just believe me.

She stares for a long ten second count, and then nods to herself, and tells the two men that she needs a moment alone.  They don't seem to want to leave, but she is insistent.  They promise to wait in the next car.

She stands up and assumes a regal pose.  Her dress is silk and velvets, and you see a rapier slung about her waist.

"You can come out now.  What is your name? We would know it for ourselves."

PT

I step out nervously and note the 'we' in there. I slip out of my hiding place as gracefully as I can, and give her slight bow.

"My name is Katherine Machintosh Smythe," I tell her.  "But most people call me Kate."

I look at her, seeing both the similarities and the differences.  "If you don't mind my asking... Who are you?" I ask sheepishly.

"Our name is Elizabeth of the House and Clan MacIntosh.  We are Crown Princess of Ruritania.  You must be one of our cousins."

Then she sways.

"Drat, only two bottle of wine, and I can't hardly stand. I'm losing my endurance."

She sits on the boxes she had been sitting on.

"You may sit..in the royal presence, and all that..but only in private, okay, cousin?"

PT

"Thank you... ma'am.."I say, and then cross my legs and lower myself until I'm sitting indian style on the ground.  Years of gymnastics have their advantages.

"Please forgive my confusion and ignorance, but... how should I address you...and.. I'm not even sure where I am..."

"Your Majesty."  She says with a small smile of pride.  "Or in private, Princess Beth. As to where you are, you are on my train running from Paris to the capital of Ruritania.  You crossed the borderinto Ruritania about half a bottle ago.  We're in the Royal Forrest."

She leans over and retches again into the metal bowl.

She looks up at you, wobbling in her seat.

"I'm going to have to reccomend against mixing bourbon and absinthe."

PT

I nod.  "That's probably a very good idea... though from what I've heard of absinthe it should probably be avoided period."

I smile, trying to figure out how much I should tell her... and how much I've already given away.

"Princess Beth... can you tell me about your contry?"

She nods.

"Ruritania is a small Germanic princedom ruled over by a descendant of a Scottish clan chieftain.  The Macintosh blood runs strong in the veins of my ancestors so that few look like me, except for others of my family such as you.  We make friends with our greater neighbours Prussia and Russia and France, although really we are small in their eyes.  And we are friendly to most of the other small princedoms.  Mostly the greater world likes us for our furs, and our lumber.  We have so many mountains that we're not really a good transit point.  But there is very good hunting."

And then she sags to the ground.

"Ohhhh." She moans.

PT

I let out a gasp and move to her side.  "Cousin?  Princess Beth? I call worriedly.  "Are you all right?  Should I get someone?"

I check to make sure she's all right, checking breathing, consiousness... if she's consious, no need to check on pulse etc.  If she's not conscious.. work on her.. call for help (and figure I'm in deep shit)

She's not conscious, but she is breathing.  You detect a pulse.

Its a bit slow, but there.

The door bursts open, and the man in the black suit jacket jumps in.

He looks at you.

"Your Majesty...?"  And then he looks down at the figure on the ground.  Back at you, forms a question, and then back at the Princess.

"Smelling salts, Gilbergh. At once." Black Suit says to the military man overiding his protests.

He bends down, and begins to minister to her.

"An explanation would be nice." Gilbergh says. You look up, and into the mouth of a horse pistol pointed at you.

PT

She's not conscious, but she is breathing.  You detect a pulse.

Its a bit slow, but there.

The door bursts open, and the man in the black suit jacket jumps in.

He looks at you.

"Your Majesty...?"  And then he looks down at the figure on the ground.  Back at you, forms a question, and then back at the Princess.

"Smelling salts, Gilbergh. At once." Black Suit says to the military man overiding his protests.

He bends down, and begins to minister to her.

"An explanation would be nice." Gilbergh says. You look up, and into the mouth of a horse pistol pointed at you.

PT

I nod.  "First though, we were talking, she sagged to the ground and gave a surprised 'oh'," I tell him.   "She threw up while we were talking earlier and said something about... mixing bourbon and absinthe..."

"Her pulse has slowed, but I couldn't tell you much more."

Its more for the one working on Beth.  That said I let out my breath and look at the man holding the gun.

"My name is Katherine Macintosh-Smythe... as near as we can tell, her Majesty is a distant cousin of mine.  I really don't know how I got here.. but I woke up on top of the mail pile... or... folded up around me... "

I give him a sheepish shrug.  "It sounds rather... insane but... Its happened before.. and when it does... it means someone needs my help.  Right now I'm guessing its her Majesty..."

He glares at you.

"Not a word of this to anyone, or I'll have you up on charges of treason or I'm not Prime Minister Wilhelm Lewontin."

Gilbergh frowns thoughtfully.

"Hmm, well you certainly do have the Macintosh blood.  And the spirit of service as well, which is a fine thing.  I think from twenty feet I'd think you were her if you weren't dressed in those ridiculous clothes.  And I've known her since her mother, the Queen, forced me to play Tea Party and Dollies with her."

"Nonsense." You hear from the floor. "You were the one who wanted to play.  Although to your manly credit, you did insist on adding Tin Soldiers to the Tea Parties."

Gilbergh turns a bit red.

And then the two men flash smiles.

"Bethie!"

"Majesty!"

PT

I nod solemnly at the warning.  This seems to be the hardest part when people find you in unexpected cirumstances.

My smile turns to one of relief when Beth wakes up and teases the soldier.  "Welcome back your Majesty," I say softly.  "How are you feeling?"

"Errggh." She replies and tries to stand.  She makes it halfway before slowly tilting over, and landing in the Prime Minister's lap.

"Got to get up." She murmurs. "Have to go to the rehearsal."

She tries again.  This time she rises, and collapses back on her feet.

"I have taken Absinthe before. It did not have this effect on me." The Prime Minister says thoughtfully as he kneels alongside Beth.

Meanwhile Gilbergh is chewing his fingernails, and occasionally casting prayerful glances up to Heaven.

PT

I watch, growing more worried as her majesty can't get up.  I give her what I hope is an encouraging smile.  "Can't you postpone the rehersal... claim being tired from the trip... have a trusted family doctor check up on you?"

I know there are probably a million reasons why my suggestion is stupid, but it is the easiest.  Otherwise, I'm afraid I may be playing Dave.

* DAVE - a moving staring Kevin Cline as the president and a man hired to portray him while he was in a coma.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:51, Fri 09 June 2006.

"She cannot because there are those who do not support her reign who claim that she is weak.  And pleading weakness as an excuse would not help her at all.  It would be giving ammunition to her opponents." Prime Minister Lewontin says as he looks speculatively at you.

Beth tries to get up again, and vomits instead.

"Whoah."  She says. "Why not give me some stimulant so I can stand."

"Unwise, Majesty. I've observed ill effects in users of cocaine." Lewontin says, and Gilbergh nods in enthusiastic agreement.

PT

I nod and let out a sigh.  "The man is right ... your majesty... " I say in agreement.  "The best thing for you to do is to let this run its course and let you body handle it..."

"How public is the rehersal?" I ask.  "How many people will be there"

I don't want to volunteer it, but this is definetly beginning to look like Dave.  "And how well do they recognize you..."

I look at her and her friends, my head tilted and my expression one of resign.  It is both a suggestion and a question.  I really don't want to do this...

Prime Minister Lewontin looks at you thougtfully.

"Many of those here only see her Majesty, once or twice a year.  I think with some makeup, and a set of her clothes, and a new more formal hair style that you could manage.  We could even put a veil in front of your face, a thin one.  After all, you are the bride..."

"August is very cute." Beth says.  "Just remember, he's mine."  She gives you a lopsided grin from the floor.

"And remember, just because everyone in the rehearsal wishes you well, it does not mean they are your friends.  Duke Roberts of Sauvignon still wishes to marry you."  Lewontin says.

"After which you would suffer a convenient fall down the stairs leaving him a 'grieving widower' and the uncontested King." Dilbergh mutters.

I listen and shake my head.  "Nice folks... I comment wryly.  "Back home the biggest problem was wondering if Uncle Henry was going to show up drunk or not..."

I shrug.  "I'm going to need a lot of help to do this," I say and then focus on her Majesty.

"And your Majesty, rest and get better because I cannot do this very well or very long..."

With those words, you set a whirlwind into motion.  Dilbergh is best at it, but even the Prime Minister helps.  They race through the Princess's several chests looking for appropriate clothes.

Happily, it seems you're a bit thinner than the Princess.  Probably something to do with all the wine she drinks.  But this discovery has Dilbergh making several wisecracks, and the Princess glowering a bit.

They also give you a cheat sheet to study on what you are supposed to do for the wedding rehearsal.

"Do you know the Strandian Waltz?" Dilbergh asks as he holds up a pale velvet silk dress with a jaundiced eye.

"More importantly, does she know how to do a block in quarte with a rapier?" Lewontin comes back.

PT
OOC: Feel free to describe your chosen garments...

When they finished picking out the dress, there is no doubt in my mind that I am in way over my head.  There are enough ruffles and bows to cover every dog in the kennel club finals and then some on this dress.

The only good thing I can say about the dress was that it's blue.  I look very much the part of Marie Antionette when we finished, and then the questions.  "No, but I can dance the Charleston... I answer and then the question about rapier.

"In this dress?" I ask as I then try and remember the positions.  "Prime," I say holding my hand as if there was a blade pointing down in front of me.  "Secunde..." I say moving my arm to my left, I wince slightly as I try to remember.

"Trirce..." I stay bringing the blade in front of me on the right side, palm up.  ""Quarte?" I ask moving my wrist so that my palm is down.

Then I shake my head.  "Not in this dress..."  I'd trip over the hoops and be flat on my back if I tried.

Lewontin hands you his sword, and Dilbergh draws his.  They practise with you for a few minutes.

"All you have to do is to stand there, and make a ceremonial block with each of your high nobles." Lewontin says.  "Now we can put this off for its only a rehearsal, but it would be better not too."  He looks hopefully at you.

After that, they summon the queen's lady-in-waiting, and she helps you get dressed.  That takes nearly an hour.

Halfway through the procedure, you hear the train brake.

Beth comes in, leaning on Dilbergh.

"I shall be at my hunting cabin in the Great Forrest.  Cousin, you will do marvelous, for are you not a MacIntosh?"

PT

I'm a bit overwhelmed.  I mean, my idea of dressing up is a skirt.  Not... <sighs>

I do what I can to help, and learn what I can on how I should act.  I watch Beth as much as I can, trying to pick up on manerisms and the like, but there's a lot to do.

When her Majesty tries to cheer me up, I can't help but laugh.  "I'm not worried about the Macintosh side Majesty... its the Smythe side I'm worried about."

Its a stupid nervous joke, but it helps me deal with the current situation.  "You'll be safe there," I ask worriedly.

"Dilbergh will be with me, and he's good with a sword, and a crack shot." Beth says softly. "And I can manage to shoot a shotgun, right now, if need be. Lewontin will be with you.  He's a bit of a stiff, but loyal to the Crown, and vastly experienced.  And Natasha here will be your servant, if you need anything she will be glad to get it.  She just sometimes is a little optimistic."

The curious evaluations preoccupy your mind as Natasha finishes putting your hair up.

Once done, you look into the mirror on the vanity.

The Crown Princess of the House MacIntosh, rightful ruler of Ruritania stares back.  Or so it seems until you quirk a grin.

"Arrogance suits you, ah, Majesty." Natasha says from over your shoulder.  "You are of Royal blood.  Others they seek your favor. You do not need theirs."  She pauses. "And try not to grin."

PT
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:02, Wed 14 June 2006.

I can't help but laugh at that one, then I try to sober up, but I know my eyes are still twinkling.  At least they didn't ask for stern.

I held my hand up as if trying to wave it off. THen shake my head.  "I'm sorry Ma'am," I finally manage to say.  "I think that might be the hardest part..."

I take a deep breath, praying this will all work out right.  "I'm sorry... I know you two have your work cut out with this... I'm trying I really am but..."

How do I explain this.  "Smiling comes as naturally as breathing... laughing doubly  so."

"You must come from a happy land then. That is no shame." Natasha says.  She then tells you of the next step.

"You will arrive at the train station situated beneathe the castle hill, and across from that hill is YOUR capital.  If you see anyone dressed in silk or with a servant attending them, address them as 'Lady'. Men who are dressed as good as Lewontin would be 'Lord', unless they have an emerald about their neck, and then its 'Count' or a ruby and then its one of your four 'Dukes', and you should kiss those on the cheek.  Other men you assume are Masters in the their trade, just to be polite.  Women are 'good Mistress.' unless they are servants and then you don't notice them--same as with the men servants."

She hmmms to herself...

Lewontin comes in after knocking.

"Fifteen minutes.  You'll need to have a short speech about how happy you are to be back among your beloved people, and how you look forward to meeting once again, the Duke of Rochisberg.  A nearby but not adjacent small German princedom that is independent, and the domain of your 'beloved' to be.  Its smaller than yours, but quite well to do with the crystal glass they make.  And he doesn't have to share his land with a clog of ambitious nobles either.  Lucky fellow.  His grand-father put down a rebellion, and executed the leaders which were the highest nobles."

I nod as I try and remeber everything I'm told.  "Good Mistress...Lady... Lord, Count..Duke...<?blue>" I repeat then as, "<blue> no countesses or Dutcheses?" I ask.

Its a lot to remember.   Then there's the news about the speech and I'm nervous all over again.  I'm trying to remember it all and hoping I get it right, but more than anything, I hope that Princess Beth will be all right.

"Its slightly informal, but Lady is a general term for any female aristocrat who is at least ten, and is not a princess or head of state.  We're trying to keep it simple."  Lewontin explains waving away your objection with a leather gloved hand.

Sooner than you would like, the train's whistle is heard, and then puffs of steam shoot up and announce themselves, and finally the shriek of the train's wheels.

Suddenly, Lewontin and Natasha bow deeply.

"Your Majesty." They say in unison.  And then Lewontin rises, and leads you out to the reviewing stand next to the train.  A crowd of about seventy, mostly well-dressed, people is waiting for you.  Beyond them is a hill covered in grass, and atop that hill is a castle with turrets and banners.

Someone comes forward to hug you, but Lewontin fends her off with a mutter of 'after the speech, Lady Carlington.'  And standing in the back, you see a man with a knife-sharp gaze, black hair slicked back over a high forehead, and the stance of a dancer who smilees faintly at you as if he knows  your secret.

"I bring back from Paris, your Crown Princess, let all give heed!" Lewontin cries suddenly, and Natasha pushes you up to the podium with a sudden jab.

PT

I stumble forward on cue, wishing the cue had been a little more gentle.  I do my best imitation of Her Majesty's speach patterns and mannerisms, based on our conversation on the train.

As I take the podium I take it all in, telling myself.  This is your home, this is your land, and your people and then I nod. I begin to speak, almost starting with 'I', and then I remember Princess Beth's words when she spoke formally.

"..We have missed you all greatly, and are quite pleased to once again be home with our people.  We thank you for you greeting for it has touched our heart greatly..."

"We are home, and looking forward to once again meeting the Duke of Rochisberg...."

I smile and nod, hoping that is enough... and not too much.

There is a short bit of enthusiastic applause from the less well-dressed, and more muted applause from the nobles.

And then a rather large woman standing next to her husband, and five children who are dressed in plain woolens blurts out.

"Your Majesty, ye've brought the latest fashions from Paris, haven't you?"

And then she clasps her hands over her mouth as her face splotches red and white from embarrassment, and her husband, an even more substantial figure than her, a veritable mountain, pulls her back a step.

The crowd titters.

PT

I nod slightly, trying to supress a smile.  I turn towards Natasha and ask, loud enough to carry, but not overly.

"Natasha, Did We bring the latests fashions from Paris?"

Natasha steps forward and whispers into your ear.

"We have the four chests Your Majesty bought in the second baggage car.  If you recall, you decided to take them with you rather than have them sent later."

Natasha gives you a small bow, and you notice several people in the front row with long ears (so to speak).

"We, ah, could host a party after the rehearsal, or if her Majesty is too tired, we could arrange another method of display."

This is also whispered.

PT

I smile, knowing full well that some people are near enough to hear.  She nodded to the woman who had spoken.

"We have four chests... which, we will be happy to display... Tomorrow, after our rehersal."

After this, you spend the next ten minutes greeting Lady this and Duke that, and then you are being escorted into your carriage for the ride up to the palace.  Suddenly the dark-eyed man from the back of the crowd is standing next to you.

"Crown Princess."  He says a bit loudly which enables the ten people in earshot to hear him.  "I must humbly beg a favor.  I'm afraid my stupid driver has let one of my carriage horses throw a shoe so he needs to be repaired at the North Stables in town."  He spreads his hands apologetically, and the glint of the ducal ruby on his chest catches your eye.  "I wonder if I may ride with you up to the palace?"

PT

I smile and give a slow nod in agreement.  "It would certnainly not do for one of our Dukes to wait, or to walk... but saddly, we are going to our wedding re-hersal and we would not want to be unseemly..." I say as eloquently as I can muster.

I'm guessing this is Duke snooty face, wants to be my widower.  "If one of the other Dukes cannot avail themselves to you... We shall have our carriage brought back for you.."

He turns faintly red, in the face, but then abruptly smiles.

"Of course, Your Majesty is correct.  And I'm sure I can find a ride."

He bows, and steps back.  Every movement is gracious, and the face is schooled to politeness, but if eyes are the windows to the soul, he has a soul of steel.  Its not insanity and craving you read in his eyes, like the rat who wanted to eat your heart, but ambition without limit.

Then he smiles, and his eyes twinkle, and some part of you is sure you didn't see what you thought you saw.

The carriage starts with a lurch, and you and the Duke stare at each other as you leave.

Once out of range, you shake yourself.

"The Duke of Sauvignon is handsome enough, but more so, he is magnetic. Those dark eyes of his, and that arrogance. There is more than a few women who have longed to be his lady, even now the Countessa of Windrow desires it.  But you handled him well.  Perhaps better than, ah, Her."  Natasha says from the other side of the carriage as she opens up a knitting box for the short ride.

I bite my lip.  "Thank you," I say and then sigh.  "Maybe I'm being paranoid but he keeps looking at me like.. he knows something or... I don't know..."

"Is She going to be all right?"

"He is trying to make you second-guess yourself, and spend time in worry rather than in pushing forward with your plans.  He is known to have said 'I often win my duels before I even draw my blade.'"

She looks back down to her knitting, her fingers rapidly scurrying.

"Oh, well, She is, ahem, known for having a very large endurance when it comes to alcohol.  She will be fine."

And with that the carriage pulls up into the courtyard of 'your' castle.  A guard assists you down, and a woman with jowls like a bulldog smiles at you.

"Your bath is poured, and food is waiting in your quarters, Your Highness.  You have two hours until the rehearsal is supposed to start."

PT

I nod, grateful for Natasha's candor.  I try not to worry about what the duke is up to but rather analyze his actions and try to figure out his game plan... and pray that Beth will be all right.

When we arrive I not graciously and then look around.  "Thank you.. We.. I would like to take a walk through the gardens before I bathe... " I answer.  "Natasha... " I say gesturing towards the castle.

I know that I need to be seen and to be around the castle and be seen by more than those who know what's going on... but I also want to ease into it.

I lead the way from the cram session on the train until we are in the gardens and at least slightly safe from prying eyes.

As you pray, you feel troubled in your spirit, and you hear some palace children singing a child's nursery rhyme type song.

"By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes."

The two, an eight year old and a six year old who are playing with a wooden top, and alternating it with frantic chatter in the fashion of little girls, and with snatches of song.

You pass by them, and Natasha whispers.

"Palace servant children.  They are technically in your employ, but mostly they run the palace, and occasionally we get a little work out of them if they get too underfoot.  However, you do pay them a copper penny a day."

In the English garden, full of roses, and a gazebo which is bordered on one side by a hedge maze, and on the other by a small square with a modest fountain with the whole encircled by light gray stone walls about ten feet high, you are not exactly alone.  There are at least ten others in your sight mostly servants doing gardening or hedge-trimming, but everyone is at least forty feet away,
and subtly giving you your space.

"Look away from the palace if you want to say something confidential. Some of those windows overhead may have spies who can read lips."  Natasha says suiting her actions to her advice, and looking outwards.

PT

I nod as I take it all in.  "It is so good to be home," I say as I turn to face away from the castle.

"Will you be at the rehersal?" I ask, trying to remain calm.  Since I've been here, I know only one thing: I do not want 'Mr. Wants to be Her Majesty's widow' anywhere near me, or Beth for that matter.

"And how do I act around the children?"

"I am your lady-in-waiting.  I will be standing ten feet from you, able to come and go as you beckon me.  As to the children, Beth enjoyed their company, but did not know many that well."  She says and gestures at a rose as if she were drawing your attention to it, and having an innocent conversation about the flowers instead of piloting throught treacherous waters.

PT

I smile and nod looking at the roses, I study them.  "They are lovely... I say, turning my head to look back at the garden, then back to the roses.

"Is there anyone I should worry about here?"
This message was lightly edited by the player at 18:13, Fri 23 June 2006.

"Well, uneasy lies the head that wears the crown.  There are always people wanting advantage, and for you to give it to them.  And people who are plotting to get advantage, but the worst Minister Lewontin is worried about at the moment is Sauvignon, and his friends.  They do speak to a group of your nobles and your people who are either afraid you will not be strong enough in the power politics of the Continent with Russia, France, and Germany all about us, or those who are offended at your, err, way with a bottle.  Its not fair, but you're a woman, and they expect you to be tougher than a man, and yet at the same time not able to relax like a man can by getting drunk.  However, I say that most of the people still support you.  You are Royalty after all, and so even many of those who are offended at your immoral ways are still supporting you because of that.  This is why Sauvignon is trying to finesse his way into power, because a naked grab for power would offend the people like that lady who wore woolens, but wanted to see the silk and velvet designs.  This marriage to August will close off that possibility, and provide reinforcement to both of your princedoms which means stability and peace which is the hearts desire of every peasant because they are the ones who bear the burden of war."

PT

I look at the flower, so bueatiful and pristine and then notice the beettle underneath eating away at it.  Its like Natasha said... Sauvignon is like that beetle, eating away at things from underneath.  "How far would he go?" I ask.

I know that he's up to something, and I can't shake the feeling that he knows something about what's going on, and I don't like that.

I take a deep breath reminding myslef that that is his game, planting the seeds of doubt.  He wants to make me or Beth uncertain.  He wants us to make a mistake.

Part of me calms at that thought and the other part wonders if he's already done something to make it happem, and my filling in is it.

"How far?  I think he would start a civil war if he thought he could win.  This is not the question.  He is a man of unlimited ambition.  But he lacks the means, the support of the people, the support of the nobles, or the military command skill."

And then she pauses, struck by an unpleasant thought.

"Although he has been seen in the company of the Grand Marshall of your Army in recent weeks."

You see a man drifting your way.  He has a cloak on over his shoulders and head.

PT

I watch and listen.  None of this is good.  We need to get Beth Married and get her kingdom secured.

As I'm realizing this I notice the cloaked man and back away slightly.  This can't be good.

The man raises the hood of his cloak up just enough for you to see his face.  Feather-soft, blonde curls wreathe his features.  Bright, blue eyes catch yours, and the cleft in the chin below the snub nose completes the picture.  Whereas Hickok was handsome like the night, this fellow would be a star on a 1950's beach movie.

"I-I trust I'm not that frightful.  I-I know I'm n-not s-supposed to be away from my w-wing, but when you came in, I-I thought to w-welcome you back to your castle."

"Soon to be your castle too, my lord duke."  Natasha says giving you a significant glance.  He shrugs uncomfortably in response.

"A-apurtenances of d-duty."

PT

"August... I say softly relief showing easily.  I smile and move closer.  "It is good to see you." I tell him.

I pause reaching out a hand.  "How are you?"

"I am well, Beth.  A-And y-you?  It is a l-long t-trip to Paris."  He takes your hand, and seems to calm a bit.  "Or a long trip back, I mean.  Have you thought about what we discussed before you left?"

A quick look over your shoulder reveals Natasha giving you a baffled and frightened look.

PT

I smile and nod.  "It was a very long trip..." I admit and for me, it was.  Nothing like beaming off a ship and waking up on a gas lit train.

"August, I have been thinking of our people... yours and mine, and trying to figure out what we can do that is best for them..."

You seem to have distracted him from his question.  He turns to look at you with genuine curiousity.

"Please, say on." And then he pauses. "Y-you s-startle me.  I-I did not t-think you thought of the future m-much.  N-not that you're n-not d-dutif-ful, b-b-but..."

He throws his hand out in exasperation at his stuttering.

PT

I gently place a hand on his shoulder as he gets frustrated.  "Its all right... I tell him.  "WE're going to be all right..."

I wait until he's calmer and nod.  "I am worried that Lord Sauvignon is going to try and ruin everything... and we have to agree to go through with this..."

"It is our duty to God and to our countries. We can help keep the peace." And then his face turns a little pink. "Y-you seem to have r-revealed a softer edge.  I-I thought you were all "Shotglass and Shell"."  He smiles at you encouragingly, and you find it a little hard to think for a second.  He may be awkward and unsure, but he's also almost beautiful in a cherubic kind of way.

PT

I smile almost lost in his eyes for a moment.  Then I duck my head.  "I hope that you will find me a woman of many facets," I say as demurely as I can mange.

I hope he and Beth can find a way to rule with wisdom and kindness, and to think of thier people first.  Looking at August, I think they can do it... but there has to be a way to convince Beth to see this too.

He stands there holding your hand until Natasha clears her throat.

"Um, y-yes, I-I should be g-going."

He turns to leave, and then turns back to get one last glance at your face, and then rushes off while you hear cries from the castle of "Duke? Duke of Rochisberg?" as people try to hunt him down.

"Very charming in a naive way, isn't he?"  Natasha says softly with a cryptic look on her face.

PT

My shoulders sag and I make sure I'm facing away from the castle before I speak.  "That was far too close," I admit.  I look around the garden and at the children.

"I guess we should start preparing for the rehersal..."  I finally say heading back to the castle.  Now more than every, I miss Hickok and the others.  Even Cecily's odd comments would be a welcomed change.

And then I think about the woman of fire, and how she changed her.

"Are you well, my lady?" Natasha whispers as she takes your arm.

Natasha takes you back up to your room where a steaming bath awaits.  Once that is done, you dig into a plate of cold roast beef, saurkraut, and garlic potatoes, and spice cake along with a bottle of red wine.

Natasha says, pausing from her reading out loud "The Well Brought Up Lady's Guide to Weddings", "You need to drink about 3/4ths of that, or otherwise dispose of it.  No need to act tipsy. Her has an iron constitution."

PT

I nod and give Natasha a shy smile.  "If I drank... any of that... I wouldn't be pretending," I tell her.  Its a slight exageration, but not much.  I just don't drink ... until I met the professor at least.

The wine goes down the sink, and I prepare for Beth's Wedding's rehersal.  "I just hope looking nervous works for her..." I say adjusting the clothes I'm to wear.

"Most brides are nervous, although Beth was rather calm about it, truth be told.  I sometimes think she saw it more as a duty than otherwise." Natasha says as she does a last bit of tidying to your hair, and dress.

Then you and her walk down the hallway to the grand staircase.  At the top of the great curving stairs, a trumpeter stands while Natasha holds you in concealment around the edge of the hallway.

He looks down over the edge of the bannister to the grand lobby below, and nods.

Then he blows a soft note.

"I'll be cracking the glass when its for real, your Majesty.  Just put your ears in your fingers then."  He says with a grin.

PT

I smile at the man's words and find myself hoping once again that Beth were here.  Her people seemed to truly love her and that was important.  She waits for her cue and then starts down the stairs.

I start to feel nervous and then take a deep breath.  This is no different than a competition.  This was a performance and I had to have my game face on.

I slowly headed down the stairs, tryign to see who I recognized.

The great hall is spotted about with around fifty people, mostly servants.  But it should easily be able to hold five hundred people in comfort.  Since its relatively warm outside, only four of the sixteen walk-in fireplaces are operating.

An elderly man in topcoat and tails is waiting at the bottom of the steps.

"Your great uncle, Migsburg, or Miggy" Natasha whispers behind you as she holds  your train down the stairs.  "He's a little dotty. He will conduct you into the castle chapel."

You get to the bottom, and Migsburg looks at you with faint puzzlement.

PT

I smile remembering how Beth had greeted me and wrap my arm aroud his.  "It is good for us to see you Uncle Miggy... are you ready for this?" I ask.

I close my eyes for a moment getting myself ready.  'This is a performance,<i>' I tell myself.  The thought '<i>A performance where you die if you blow it' popped into her mind as she stood there, quickly followed by 'Death isn't all its cracked up to be... follows.

I take a deep breath and think about what would happen if Beth's would be widdow were to take over... or what would happen to Natasha and the others.

It wasn't just me I was doing this for and for all them Beth, the people, Natasha... everyone.  I take a deep breath and carry myself with proper posture and dignity.

You walk into the cathedral with Uncle Miggy muttering on your arm.  With alarm, you hear him say in a faint complaint...

"But where is Bethie?"

The room is gigantic, and reaches high to a roof of a buttress ceiling painted with scenes of Biblical history interlaced with what looks to be Ruritanian history.

A bare fraction of the five hundred seating room is filled.  At the front, perhaps twenty guests wait.

You can make out the four dukes you are to cross swords with by their rubies, and by their obvious dress swords.  Except for Sauvignon who is bearing a plain saber on his hip.

Uncle Miggy is supposed to walk you up to the front so you can stand next to Rochisberg who is awaiting you, a ray of sunshine in the dark hair and eyes of your countrymen.

"Where is Bethie?" Uncle Miggy says slightly louder.

PT

I bite my lip.  I hate lying to the man, but telling him the truth could be just as bad, perhaps even worse.

Finally I look at him, settling on a version of the truth.

"Uncle Miggy, I can't be Bethie here... we have to be Princess Beth... and you must be Uncle Migsburg..."

"Oh, okay. We can play a game." He smiles lightly with cheerful enthusiasm that is more than a little dotty.

You get up to the front of the chapel with him humming "Here comes the bride" under his breath.

Everyone does a quick bit of practise sword waving and Sauvignon, the would-be merry widow, embarrasses himself by slicing off a candle, and splattering the flaming candle next to the altar where the sword work will be.

The other dukes laugh at him without much sympathy, and he accepts it in good grace.

This is also the first moment you realize that this is going to be with naked steel.

PT

I continue to smile and begin wondering if Sauvignon's slip was intentional.  Perhaps he was setting up a chance to slip when it matters.  I make a mental note of the incident and smile.

I try to remember everything so I can fill Her in when she arrives.

You walk through the ceremony, and much is familiar from weddings you've gone to, or seen on television.  And when you slip from the script, its generally considered to be a sign of 'bridal nervousness', and everyone is very forgiving.

The pipe organ plays and you walk down to the altar to meet August, who is on the far side of the altar.

Suddenly someone stands up in your path, and shouts.

"Is she wise?"

At this point, about a dozen of your tutors stand up, and each testifies to various areas of knowledge.

Another ten paces, and...

"Is she good at heart?"

And then the same dozen reading from a script testify to various deeds of kindness, and justice.

And then a bit more, and you're almost to the altar...

"Is she strong to rule?"

The four dukes draw their swords, and as one say "We will test her to see for ourselves and for this company that represents the whole of Holy Ruritania."

PT

I move foward, playing a new game.  I'm still working to be Beth, but I'm alos looking for any place where someone could trip her up.  So far the sword play seems the most likely and the most probable.

I draw my sword, realizing that this is what the blocking int quarte was about.  I wait for the others to move and work to block the blows I know are coming.

And as crazy as it seems... I smile, because I somehow just know that Her would.

The first duke is an elderly man, and his blows are light, but terribly quick.  He does not overmatch you, but he does take you up to the edge of your abilities in a quick ten strokes.  You can tell its not close to the edge of his ability.

Then puffing a little and rosy-cheeked, he turns to the company.

"I am satisfied."

The next is simple.  He puts you through the barest sketches of your moves, and then abruptly stops.

"I too."  And then he mutters to you as he walks past.  "Stupid archaic medieval custom. Cannons not swords decide the face of war now."

The third is a large man, and he doesn't seem to know his own strength.  He is a passable swordsman, but he leaves your arm aching from his blocks (despite using a dress sword), and you're pretty sure in a real fight he'd smash right through your defenses, and you'd have to be dreadfully quick to survive.

"I too."

And then Sauvignon draws his saber with a grim flourish.  At first, he tries to maneuver you so that you will land your foot on the wax, but you're wise to that trick.

The sparring goes on, and the first duke clears his throat at the impertinent length.

And then Sauvignon smiles a grim little turn of the lips so that only you can see it, and you can see he is now maneuvering so that his own foot will land on the wax.

PT

I force my breathing to remain calm as the 'fight' continues and as he moves, I make the hardest move I ever learned in fecning and back up, away from his engagement.  I take the fight of line, so for him to get to the wax, he will have to be a lot more blatant about it.

While retreating away from the wax, I keep my guard up and continue to engage his blade.

You do your move creditably, but Sauvignon stays with you not letting you escape.  You can see his face flicker for a second as he considers whether it would look believable for him to "accidentally" stab you, but then he smiles at you like he's granting you the gift of life.

But his blade had swung perilously close to your throat, and suddenly another blade intervenes.

The elderly duke has caught Sauvignon's blade with his own.

"Just what are you playing at?  This is not a sparring match, Sauvignon." The first duke snaps.

"Ramsberg.  You insult me." Sauvignon says with a small smile.

PT

As the two men start to escalate things, I take a breath.  I think it might be the first one since I matched steel with Sauvignon.

I smile sweetly and tsk them.  "We think we are not the only one with wedding jitters,' I comment to Natasha, with a smile and a slight blush.

I then smile and nod to my dukes.  "We thank you Gentlemen." I add nodding towards my waiting betrothed.

August bows, and walks over to stand by your side while the elderly duke gives you a look of keen and heart-felt appreciation hidden inside his smile.  When Sauvignon attempts to round on you, with his face a mottled red of suppressed fury, he somehow bounces off August's shoulder.

For a second, you think something desperate might start.  And you notice that somehow two men with oddly cold faces have maneuvered themselves so that they are only ten feet behind Sauvignon.  One is tall, thin, bleached blonde hair, and almost ungainly in his boniness, and the other is short, slim, well-dressed.  Both carry rapiers at their hips like third arms, parts of their bodies, and looking into their eyes, you see no friendship, just a waiting for a word.

"For crying out loud, Sauvignon, get on with it!" The cannon fancying duke bursts out, and then suddenly Sauvignon smiles.

"Of course, Halston, of course.  My apologies. I too am satisfied.  The princess shows admirable self-control and skill with the sword."

PT

I courtsey to my Dukes, and resheath my rapier, handing it to Natasha.  When our eyes meet I look, without moving my head, towards Ungle Miggie and August.  I need to know who I should walk with.

This whole thing is dangerous and there are so many different ways for Rhaspburg to kill me, kill Her Majesty when the time comes and his two cold friends could try a coup.  Succeed or fail, Bethie would be just as dead.

She looks at August, and so with a bit of fumbling you join him in holding hands above and across the small altar while the bishop runs through a quick outline of what he is going to say, and your expected responses.

And then you walk with August arm-in-arm out the front door of the church with the various notables trailing behind you to meet your carriage master who is sitting atop his carriage waiting for you.

The party begins to break up, and with a sense of disquiet you see Sauvignon giving quick, tense orders to his two swordsmen who then mount their readied horses and gallop away.

PT

I watch it all, and while the whole prospect of the ceremony worries me, it is no where near the worry I feel when I watch Sauvignon.  I can't help but think he had something to do with Beth's sudden illness and that he knows she must be somewhere.

The only thing that keeps me from doing anything about it is remembering what Natasha said: getting people to make the wrong move was Sauvignon's trademark.

When we were in the wagon I smiled to Natasha.  "The seem to be able to suck the life out of a party," I comment quietly.

I'm hoping that she and the others have a proper sense of doom with all of this.  I can't help but think about the fact that I'm here-- and that if I'm here.. there's something unKosher going on.

Natasha nods in grim agreement as the horses plod back up to the castle, the carriage creaking all the way.

"Still you seemed to be able to checkmate Sauvignon.  I saw his tricks in the swordplay, but I couldn't think of any way to derail him that wouldn't end with you having to apologize for 'your crazy maid' and me ending up in an asylum 'for my own good'."

She takes a long look outside the carriage at the passing people who wave cheerfully.

"Is it always this way? The people are happy, and the crown is worried.  Or the crown is happy, and the people are worried?  I wonder what those two of Sauvignon's are up to."

PT
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:18, Fri 06 Oct 2006.

I smile at Natasha.  She's a godsend.  I realize how much this helps me deal with what's happening here.  I'm grounded because I have people who are looking out for me and care, if not for me, then for what I'm doing.

She's also expressed my concern.  Maybe I'm paranoid, but I've learnedthat as a 'verser' nothing is coincidental.   It may have taken me a death or two to figure it out-- but I have figured it out.

I sigh.  "Thank you for watching out for me.  I'm glad we're both safe for the time being, but I think it was more of a stalemate than anything else.  He didn't get what he wanted today.  That doesn't mean he won't tomorrow. and we must make sure that everything is as it should be."

I can't think of what to do, but part of me can't help but worry that he knows and that Her is in serious danger.

You arrive at the castle, and spend some time making wedding decisions, and holding court while anxiety continues to build beneath your breastbone.  Drumming your fingers on the throne room chair you realize you've missed the last two minutes of a tedious dispute over chickens between a merchant and a farmer.

Ordinarily its something that would go to the courts, but both are high nobles, even though there wrangling over the price of a dozen chickens does not show this.

And then the back door of the throne room opens, and your chief minister steps in.  His coat of black has been changed for a guard's coat, but his face is dusty, and pale, and there is a gash across the left of his forehead, above his temple.  In his right hand is a bloody hankerchief.

He looks at you swaying a bit.

He puts a finger up to his lips.

PT

I sit up.  There are so many questions I want to ask, and so many concerns based on his appearance, but I know that I have to keep mine up.

I focus on the two men, trying to figure out something to say or do. Not knowing what else to do I finally tilt my head and sigh.  "My Lords.  We understand your conundrum and feel that both of you have a valid point."

I pause and study each one.  "Therefore we feel, that each should try to see the other's point.  We request that the two prices be averaged and the transaction complteted."

She gave them time to let her decree sink in and then continued.  "And we request that you good Lord," she said to the buyer.  "Spend one week working with your fellow Lord."

I then turn to the other lord.  "You will help him perform you job."

"Then, the following week, you will switch and the first lord, will show you how it is to earn them money requested."

He take a deep breath and wait, hoping they will accept my decree and maybe just maybe learn something.

They stare at you somewhat surprised, and then both of them nod, at first the merchant and then the farmer somewhat ruefully.

Natasha comes up, and announces to the waiting people.

"For reasons of state, the following petitions are postponed for one hour.  You may wait in the Right Hall where servants will bring you coffee and cake."

The people shuffle out, some a little resentfully, but you can tell a couple are actually secretly enthused about the chance to eat cake at the palace.

Once they are gone, the prime minister comes up to the throne.

"Lady, there is trouble I fear.  Two masked men with a gang of ruffians attacked me and ah, Your Special Friend while we were at the hunting cottage.  They bore her away."

PT

I drew a sharp breath, oddly relieved.  He said 'they bore her away'.  That meant at least that she was not dead.

It also meant that my sherade was becoming more and more dangerous.  I think about everything that has happeneed and shake my head.

"I know I'm stating the obvious but... we have to find her."

I think for a minute and shake my head.  "IT's a shame there are so many ruffians about." I add, remembering that there are ears everywhere.

"Why at my wedding rehersal there were these two men who scared me just by the look of them."

I then describe Savionon's 'freinds'.  IF my suspicions are correct HE has just become a 100% more dangerous.

Your Prime Minister nods and leans toward your ear.

"Yes, Lucas and Fallin, both foreigners with no friends here, and both accomplished duellists.  The sort of men who use duelling as an excuse to murder, and do it for pay.  The country, no the world would be a better place after they both dance on a gibbet."

Natasha bends down, and begins to 'fix' your shoe.  You can tell she is almost weeping.

"What should we do?"  She whispers quietly.

A servant steps in the door.  He bows.

"Your Ladyship, the Duke of Sauvignon begs of your charity a meeting at your earliest convenience."

PT

I do my best to comfort Natasha, but I'm worried too.  When the servant comes telling me of Sauvignon's request, I can't help but guess what's going on.

"We shall shall send him a messenger when we can make time to honor his request," I answer as casually as I can.

This is too convienent to be anything other than a set up.  I wait for the servant to leave.  "This is indeed unfortunate for we know too well that this is an attempt to get at the throne."

I'm getting tired of double meanings, but I tell myself I must bear them a little longer.  There are so many ways this can go wrong, and so many ways it could be used.  Saddly all the options I saw led to chaos... or Sauvignon.

"How was she?"

"She was recovering. In another day, two at the most, you would have ah, had a vacation.  Your, ah, cousin, is a woman of astounding vigor and resilience.  However, she was clouted on the head by the hilt of a sword wielded by Lucas, and then stuffed in a burlap bag and tossed upon a horse.  However, she is tough as I say, and she has a furious determination, and she would never forgive us if we were to yield to Sauvignon,......Your Majesty."  The Prime Minister packs a paragraph of meaning into those last two words while his coolly calculating eyes examine you.

The door is thrust open, and the previous servants flusters in.

"Majesty, the Duke rode off in a great fury. I have never seen such."  Then she pauses, sees the three of you in close conference, and blushes. "My apologies, if I were overwrought. Let me withdraw if it please you."

PT

I listen as the Prime Minister speaks and nod.  None of this is good, but I guess my 'cousin' is more like me than I thought.  This might be just what we need.  I was about to speak when the servant rushed in.

"No, please stay-- tell us what happened."

I need to know just how bad this is so we can figure out if we have any time at all.  We have to do something for Her.

"Well, Your Majesty when I come up to him, I says, politely mind you, I says, I'm sorry, your lordship, but her Majesty is busy and will send a messenger to you."  She pauses.  "I swear, I have never seen Sauvignon like that.  He turned red, and stood up violently, and I felt certain he was going to hit me in the face with his riding crop."

She fans herself, enjoying the moment.

"Well, he turned back to how he always is.  So polite you couldn't mark him off for nothing, but with that same scary thing he has, and then he looked me right in the eyes, and said 'You'd best go tell Her Majesty about this' and he made to strike me, but two of your guards were standing right behind him, and so he stopped. Smiled in a weird way, and ran out.  What kind of man would hit a woman, I ask you?  Sorry, Your Majesty, its just not how I was raised. Not proper it is."

She curtseys.

PT

I remain attentive, but I can feel my blood boiling.  He's not only the kind of man who would hit a woman, he's the kind of man who would hire some one to hit her for him.

His men... Her Majesty...

I nod graciously and thank her for relaying the message.  "If you wish, I will find someone to relieve you of your duties for the rest of the day- that is quite enough for anyone in one day."

When she leaves I look at Natasha and the Prime minister.  "This is so not good.  Where could he keep her?"

She takes the day off with gratitude, and leaves.

Lewontin holds up four fingers.  "One, he owns a palace to the East of this city.  Just like your other dukes own palaces to the South, West, and North.  Two, he has a hunting lodge, not as fine as yours, in the forrest, about twenty miles from yours.  But its not fortified which I think is a key issue.  I could be wrong.  His family has been wanting to make it a fortified manor for a long time, and your family has always refused.  Farther east than his Eastern Palace, he has the Lake Fortress which is set in the midst of the lake Blackonsha, and is reputedly the third most difficult castle to storm in all Ruritania.  Much further, two weeks travel, to the east, he has a border fort that is on the border with Germany."

He shrugs.  Natasha asks a question.

"What of the Comtesee de Milan?"

"What,oh, quite right."

"Yes, she's his mistress hoping to be his wife, and she owns a palace in town and a castle forty miles west of here."  Natasha explains with a grin for Lewontin's social discomfort.

"THis is all if he doesn't just rent a property and stash her in some isolated barnhouse or mill tower with a couple guards and a bag of food."  Lewontin finishes.

PT

I take a deep breath and pause.  "He wants our cousin alive for now, at least until he makes up his mind on how to handle this."

"But he's not going to wait much longer either," I sigh.  "He's going to need her somewhere close but secure...."

I look up at Lewontin.  "He wants an audience.  I think we should give him one."

I didn't like the idea of leaving Her under his care any longer than I had to, but I knew I had to have a plan.

You send a messenger to the Duke to have him attend you at once.  Prime Minister Lewontin excuses himself to get tended to, and properly dressed.

An hour later, after a nervous lunch, you are sitting in your throne room with Natasha at your feet, and Lewontin sitting at a small stool to your right.

You notice that the decorations in the throne room have changed.  A few screens have been added.

"There are no soldiers behind the screens since we don't want to start rumors in the soldiery that we suspect Sauvignon of assasination.  However, he won't know that no one is behind them, and so any plan to stab you will be avoided."

A few minutes later, the Duke enters.  His face is blank.  He walks up to you, and very properly renders his obeisance.

"I have terrible news your majesty.  I have become aware that a royal cousin of yours was taken from your hunting lodge.  My men, a small hunting party enjoying the woods, tried to stop this tragedy, but they were slain by the miscreants.  I still search for your cousin, but I fear she may be lost unless proper measures are taken."

PT

I try to think of what to say or how to react to any possible thing he could say or demand while we wait, but when he mentioned my cousin I'm taken flat footed.

I take a deep breath and nod.

"She is very dear to us," I say evenly.  "And I.. We thank you for your news, though it stuns us.  We must think of what to do and consult with our advisors," I add.

"We do not want people to think We are distracted from our duty, it may give the ruffians the impression that she could be used against us."

After a pause I look up at him again.  "What would you do if you were in our position?"

"Well, I can think of a couple things you might do, Your Highness.  One you could come to my hunting lodge, and oversee the search.  I fear that if people see you do not value, I mean, if the people misapprehend your deep love for your cousin, and misconstrue it as casual non-concern, why then they might feel you were not worthy of the crown.  So I urge you to come to my hunting lodge, and oversee the search to forestall any such misplaced rumors."

He bows, and then goes to one knee.

"Consider also my personal plea. Were I your husband then no one would dare challenge your nation, or offer you insult.  I am sure that if I were but betrothed to you that the fear of my wrath would bring these jackals to bay.  Consider now, you are but a woman, a beautiful creature but not made for war.  And your husband to be, he is unfit for the crown, and for you.  He stutters.  He is a weakling.  I do fear that if you marry Augustus, that cute child, that the jackals will laugh i ntheir forrest and terrible things will happen to your cousin."

PT
OOC: And unfortunately, this is probably my last post for a week in this thread as I go to Texas tommorrow.  I might get one more in tonight, but we'll see...and yes, I'm trying to get the game to the point where swords get drawn and desperate fights on balconies occur, or some such thing.  I hope your sword arm is ready.