Private Don't Block Up the Hall | Invite

[Athéna Joreux]

The sleek transport banked and swooped over the city, flanked by a squadron of starfighters. People and banners still filled the streets, and occasional pillars of smoke rose to the skies where celebrations got out of hand in the wee hours of the morning. Athéna stared out the window, looking at the capital without truly seeing it. She became aware of a voice speaking nearby. "Your Majesty? Your Majesty?"

A hand touched her shoulder, and she turned around quickly, nearly knocking over the cup of coffee that sat on the table before her. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty," said the head of her detail. "I thought you couldn't hear me."

She pressed her lips together for a moment and then took a sip of her coffee. "Sorry," she said. "Miles away."

"We'll be arriving at the palace shortly," said the head of her detail. "Your father's — that is, your — private secretary will meet you on the landing pad. The press has been kept away — due to the circumstances — but he has called ahead to inform us that the Leader of the Opposition is on his way now that he knows you've arrived."

Athéna rolled her neck and sighed. "Of course. We need a government, regardless of anything else." She finished her coffee and allowed the steward to take the coffee tray away. A few moments later, the ship had touched down. She was lucky that no press were here, for she hadn't bothered to put on makeup or do much with her hair.

Her private secretary was Yan Iridas, an older man, probably in his fifties; he looked anxious and carried a stack of documents and, after bowing from the neck, he spoke very, very fast. "There are some pressing matters to address, Your Majesty. Do you need to be briefed on the kissing hands? We can bring the protocol officer in, though of course the ceremony is private so we are unable to have someone in with you at the time, but we can do a brief refresher."

"Yan," said Athéna, pausing before the wide staircase leading into the palace. "Put a pin in everything besides the kissing hands. I need twenty minutes to myself beforehand so I can take a shower. Please have them bring the suitcase from the cabin into my room."

"Ma'am," said Yan. "It's critical that we — "

"It is," said Athéna pleasantly. "But it's also critical that I not meet the next Prime Minister of Rendili looking and smelling like I've just flown through the night after being pulled out of an exercise class and told my father was dead — which, incidentally, is what happened. I need to take a shower and put on fresh clothes and then I will meet with -- what's his name, again?"

"Orys Halcard, ma'am."

"We can deal with everything else after," the Queen said. "And I promise we will."

* * * * *​

Half an hour later, Yan escorted a freshly showered, combed, and dressed Athéna into the solar, a large conservatory-like room overlooking the main courtyard. A pair of chairs faced each other near a firceplace, with a table near the chair furthest from the door. Her father's cigar box, a lamp, and a small button sat on the other table. Yan spotted the cigar box and made a choking rumble. "I'm so sorry, ma'am, we thought we'd removed everything."

Athéna ran her fingers over the box and smiled. "Not to worry," she said. "You can leave it here."

"Very well, ma'am." He indicated the button. "You'll press the buzzer when you're ready to see someone, and again when the audience is over. Now, do you wish to review the protocol sheet?"

The Queen sighed and scratched her forehead lightly. "No, Yan," she said. "Ironically, forming a new government is one of the easiest things we task a monarch with. Besides, if I mess it up, who's going to complain? Not him. Not me. Please go and prepare for the accession council." Yan looked skeptical, then bowed and nodded, making his way back to the door where he bowed again and then left. Athéna took a breath, smoothed the fabric of her black dress carefully, and then pressed the buzzer and went to stand near her chair to wait. That this change of government was the same as any other was a polite fiction that everyone was willing to indulge, but now that she was alone and about to face a man whose party had come to power calling for a significant, even radical change to Rendili and its society — even to the monarchy itself — the realization dawned that though the meeting might be cordial, she might well be meeting her executioner if the rhetoric surrounding the campaign was anything to go by.

She put on a face of neutrality, took a deep breath, and waited.

Orys Halcard​

 

[Orys Halcard]

"...called for the abolishment of the Monarchy and...."​

"...empty rhetoric. He will be forced to confront the realities of governing."​

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"Prime Minister Halcard declined the traditional seating ceremony, citing the expenses..."​

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"...how ever else you want to call it, this socialist will wreck the economy and then some."​

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"His party has the highest approval..." "...clear mandate,-" "Special interest groups are already..."​

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***​

"You really should turn that off, Orys, it won't due your blood pressure any good." His secretary, Liam, remarked over the low-volume holofeed. "We are almost at the palace, so that is the last thing we need right now."

Orys chuckled, but turned it off all the same.

"It just amuses me how every corpo and suited flunky thinks they know what I am about to do. They are shaking in their boots, I can hear them shriveling up from a mile away." The other man just shook his head and continued to scan his datapad for any other updates. "You will be meeting with Athéna Joreux, the new Queen, since her father just passed away. It is customary for you to offer condolences and some kind words about her father, before you get to business."

"Oh, sure. Dear Queen Joreux, your father was a sniveling coward that abandoned us to the Sith at the first hint of trouble." The tsk from Liam was met with another chuckle. "Your palace was build by him on the backs of the common man and- you could at least try to smile. Relax, I won't insult the new Queen on my first day, not even I am that stupid."

Liam's raised eyebrows argued against that very notion, but he wisely didn't put it into words.

Before Orys could say anything more, the transport already landed and soon enough they were whisked away. It was a grotesque place, decadent, large enough to fit an entire district of people. The contents of the palace could feed them for a year, if not more.

Soon enough the door was opened to him.

Orys Halcard was left outside the solar and in it arrived Prime Minister Halcard. Who was all pleasant smiles as he came up to greet the Queen.

"Ah, your Highness, it was such terrible news to hear of your father's passing. Truly a blemish on this week's victory of the People." The people, Orys underlined here, not his party, no. The people. They had spoken and spoken loudly.

"He was a vigilant man." Vigilant... yes, vigilant enough to see the Sith threat and run the first moment he could.

Athéna Joreux

 

[Athéna Joreux]

The young woman waited, statuesque, until the politician entered. He didn't seem bothered by the formality of the occasion, addressing her incorrectly and not even a slight bow. "Yes," said the Queen. "Thank you, I appreciate your kind words." She folded her hands together in front of her and studied him. Impossibly young to be the leader of a party, much less a government, but here he was, duly elected and waiting for her to ask him to form a government in her name. She paused a moment before realizing that she had to keep speaking. "Congratulations on your election success, Mr. Halcard."

Athéna stepped forward and unclasped her hands, extending her right hand as instructed in her protocol book. "It's unusual that a monarch and a Prime Minister begin their terms of office, as it were, on the same day. I'll do my best not to bring disgrace upon our shared page in the history books." She smiles weakly; clearly her lack of sleep and grief was affecting her ability to do humor. She cleared her throat and looked down, waiting for Halcard to take his place on a knee in front of her. He may not have shown the deference that was customary upon entering the room, but he wasn't Prime Minister until she said so, and that required the kissing of hands.

"As your sovereign, I have a constitutional obligation to advise, guide and warn the government of the day, and to keep our conversations in the strictest of confidences. My role is entirely nonpartisan." She paused. "As Queen, the duty falls to me to ask you become Prime Minister and to form a government in my name. And, if you agree, the custom is to say yes."

Orys Halcard​

 

[Orys Halcard]

A bemused glance there at that offered hand.

Oh, yes, Liam had told him about this part.

To fall down on a knee, kiss her knuckles and profess undying loyalty. Well, not so much that last part, but Orys couldn't help but imagine it anyway. That was what every noble wanted, no? A return towards that absolutism. "Ah, yes, this is the part where I go down on my knee, isn't it?" Orys murmured, putting a voice to that thought, a wicked glint in the eye.

"How positively traditional."

He took her hand first.

This was already a breach in protocol, like he was about to shake her hand like any old fisher's daughter on the market. And only then did he casually go down on one knee.

Barely.

Smiling there as she informed him on her duties as Queen. Then a nod there. "Why yes, yes I do believe I want the job I was elected for." Only then did he lean over and softly breathed over her knuckles. The barest of kisses. Nothing more than a peck, before Orys let go of her hand and rose up once more there.

"How delightful." Another smile. "I am sure we will do great things together, your Grace. I have big plans for Rendili."

Athéna Joreux

 

[Athéna Joreux]

Athéna was not a stupid woman.

She had excelled in her studies, graduating at the top of her class, and was well on her way to a Masters degree. She wasn't just intelligent, either. She was socially intelligent as well. So she was aware that a man in the political field, particularly a man who was the leader of an opposition party that was leading in the polls, would have been briefed on the proper protocol: the bows and the 'Your Majesties' and the process for kissing hands. So the conclusion that Athéna reached was: Halcard was toying with her. She felt a stab of annoyance.

"It's constitutional," Athéna corrected him. "Which isn't quite the same thing."

She snatched her hand away from his grasp, perhaps a little too quickly to be strictly polite, but something about his breath on her knuckles made her feel vaguely uncomfortable. "Prime Minister," she said stiffly. "Please." She gestured towards the seat opposite her and sat in her own chair. "I'm afraid I haven't read your party's manifesto, so I've had to rely upon what I've read in the newspapers. Knowing how the media can be... hyperbolic," she said delicately, "I wonder if you might give me some idea of the legislative agenda for your government."

She slanted her legs to one side, crossing her ankles primly, and smoothed her skirt self-consciously. "And before you go we ought to pencil in when you'll have your weekly audience. I understand our predecessors met on on the second evening of the week, but if another time would be preferable I'm happy to be flexible."

Orys Halcard​

 

[Orys Halcard]

Their eyes briefly met once she snatched her hand away.

Orys recognized that look in her eye. That annoyance when somebody realized they were being played with. That sobered up his smile, shifting from self-indulgent to merely practiced.

"Mm, of course, that only seems right." Sitting down where she indicated. His own leg crossing over the other, while relaxing. Odd that. Nothing about Orys Halcard suggested that he belonged here. From the worker-class haircut, to the sharp lines of his face and calluses on his hands, Halcard seemed more situated for butcher's shop or a seedy bar.

Here he was, however. Perfectly at ease surrounded by gilded beauty and comfortable seats you could sink into.

"I am sure you have caught the themes of the campaign, however inflated they are by the hungry-for-conflict media." Another smile there. If the Queen had read up on him, she'd have known the basics at the very least.

A man of the streets, someone who had worked at warehouses, before the One Sith threat had turned him into a budding guerrilla fighter. After the Sith had been defeated he got a job at a local newspaper, slowly building up his reputation as a hard-hitting (sometimes literally if rumors were to be believed) investigator, who fearlessly went after the big corporations on Rendili and elsewhere.

So his comment about the media was irony at its finest.

"Return Rendili to its people. We both know that they are being fleeced." Murmured softly, growing more serious. "It can't go on like this. The big banks and shipyards and other industries might think they are too big to fall, but they have lost the confidence of the people a long time ago."

All the snark and glibness aside, she could see it in his eyes.

It was true faith that drove this man next to her. He truly believed in what he said.

"My legislative agenda for the first six months in office will solely focus on bringing them to heel. They will work for the people, or they won't work at all."

Casually said, but the meaning behind it would spur a flurry of media frenzies, if it came out. He watched her there carefully, gauging her reaction, as much as what she would say... and what she wouldn't.

Athéna Joreux

 

[Athéna Joreux]

A red flag went up in the back of Athéna's mind. ...bringing them to heel... or they won't work at all. Perhaps the newspapers hadn't exaggerated as much as she assumed. This was revolutionary talk indeed. The Queen inclined her head as she listened, her brown eyes narrowing slightly. She had to remember not to make it seem as if she disapproved. Once she had ascended the throne -- actually, once she was born into the royal family -- she was meant to have had her political opinions removed. That would prove difficult, because she suspected she'd have a phone sheet the length of her arm once Halcard started making his move. Aristocrats from the weave of intermarriages and family friendships were peppered through Rendili's economies, from agriculture to the shipyard industry and everything in between.

They would be looking for her to do something, to protect their interests. Technically, the constitution gave her the power to dissolve governments and call elections at her pleasure, but the power was theoretical at best. It hadn't been done in modern times -- ever -- by any of her predecessors, stretching back to the plague years. In her opinion, such an exercise of her authority, especially against the custom, would have been foolhardy in the extreme after an election that was an irrefutable rebuke of the existing system. This anti-establishment sentiment would be difficult enough to deal with when it was channeled through the halls of government, with all the checks and balances that came with that. It would be much more dangerous to have it running rampant in the streets, all the more enraged for having its electoral will ignored.

She sighed and tried not to deflate. The truth was she didn't feel the outrage that she knew others would at Halcard's implications. His words were menacing, but Athéna had to balance that against with the fact that he was clearly not above testing his limits with her, even at this early stage. Perhaps it was a matter of going for shock value, to see if he could goad a reaction out of her. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction. What was more, university had broadened her perspectives; she recognized that the plight of the workers could and probably should be improved. She might have offered this as a grounds for building rapport with her Prime Minister, but that too would have been partisan.

So she said nothing, and smiled vaguely. "I see," she said. "Well, I gather we'll discuss it more during our weekly meetings. There were a few other items I want to discuss with you, if you've the time, the first being my father's funeral." Athéna paused and folded her hands in her lap, glancing at the cigar box to her left. "The tradition for a deceased monarch is for a lying in state at the the royal pavilion followed by a state funeral in the National Basilica." Indeed, she remembered attending the same for her grandfather not long ago.

"What are the government's thoughts on this matter?"

Orys Halcard​