Private Kind Hearts & Coronets - Prelude I: Minus From Birth

[Reima Vitalis]

NEW STERANDEL
EARLY SPRING​

To the citizens of New Sterandel who went about their lives, commuting to work, doing their shopping, or otherwise minding their own business, they could have been anyone. Two old friends meeting in Sovereigns' Park -- she, waiflike and willowy, at once encapsulated in and tethered by the long camel coat she wore as an aegis against the early spring chill almost as effectively as she wore oversized sunglasses to shield against the intrusion of the midmorning sunlight; he, tall and handsome, well-dressed. Only those who looked up from their morning papers and morning coffees at just the right moment would recognize them for who they were: a right pair of Royal Highnesses, if you please.

Others might notice the handful of men in dark suits that followed the aforementioned 'he' at a distance that one might call respectful or not, depending on their preference. The pair -- the trio, if one counted the sleek whippet that trotted amiably at the feet of the 'she' -- approached from opposite ends of the park, meeting near a broad fountain in the middle where, predictably, the whippet began to sniff around the boots and trouser legs, then began to leap up, dancing hither and thither, threatening to loop the two humans up in his leash.

"Crackers," Reima admonished the dog. "Crackers, get down. Get -- hello you," she interjected to her brother as she embrace him at the arms, leaning forward to plant a kiss on first one cheek, then the other before resuming her heckling of the dog. "Get off," she said, giving the lead a tug so that the energetic puppy finally put all four paws on the gravel, its tail wagging merrily. It gave one last sniff of the sets of royal knees before trotting off to examine the fountain nearby, its charming grey eyes fixing the crowned head at the apex of the statue at the center of the fountain with a curious gaze before it turned and settled at Reima's feet.

"Sorry," Reima said to George, releasing his upper arms from her embrace. "He's -- well, he's just so adorable I can hardly stand to chastise him. Much the same problem Ben had with me, as I recall," she added with a cheeky smirk. Both of them would recall correctly that their nanny had not, in fact, had any such trouble disciplining Reima. "Thank you for coming to me this time. I just don't know how much Your Royal Highness-ing I can manage today. Oh hell, that reminds me," Reima added before dropping into a perfunctory curtsy.

The protocols had to be observed, after all.

She cast a glance toward the statue that Crackers had been studying a moment ago, as if to see whether her mother -- in whose likeness the statue was cast -- would approve. But the wrought iron didn't make any outward motions. "Want some coffee? Or breakfast? My hotel does it rather well." She glanced down at the whippet, silently willing the little pup to do its business, before returning her attention to her brother. "It's on me, of course."

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

He watched in amusement as the little critter did its little dance. Even as they greeted each other, George gave the dog a little scratch behind the ear, which probably was only going to encourage it to do it more often.

But it was not strictly speaking his dog, so that was probably alright.

"That's quite alright, he is just doing what dogs do, yes?" But the amusement left his face when she did the curtsy. "I do so wish you'd stop doing that." He muttered, not quite embarrassed, but perhaps a little exasperated. "It's enough that everyone at the House does it, I don't need to see it from my own sister."

He leaned in and quickly gave her cheek another kiss.

"I have missed you, so coming to you was the least I can do." He'd offer his elbow to her. "Wherever you wish to go, that is where we will be, darling sister. I just want to hear how you have been doing. If that is over coffee or biscuits at your hotel, I am all for it."

In which case he'd let her lead, since he didn't exactly know where she was staying currently.

"So... tell me. How are you?"

 

[Reima Vitalis]

Reima made a face at George's protestations. "I don't make the rules. I'm sure one of your minders would report to Mother that I'm not observing the proper courtesies and she'd have me in some prison or another. But someday, she might -- " She took a beat, then cleared her throat. No, best not to say die. " -- abdicate. Then you'll be Supreme Leader and you can make all the rules and banish curtsying from all the realm. But until then, you've just got to suck it up. Sorry."

She waited a moment while Crackers sniffed around, then squatted and did his business. Reima handed her brother the dog's lead and dug into her camel coat for a pair of latex gloves, which she donned, then wrapped her hand in a plastic sack with which she scooped up the remains. "Life as a Princess of the blood -- so glamorous," she intoned with an exaggerated, old-Galidraani accent. "It's this way."

Pausing only at a trash receptacle to toss the bag and carefully remove and dispose of the gloves in a way that prevented her from coming into contact with anything foul, she led her brother across the park. "Are you asking about me avoiding our mother, or are you asking about me avoiding Wedge, or are you talking about me possibly avoiding scandal by resigning my commission with the Alliance and becoming a lady of leisure?"

Delicate shoulders shrugged. "The answer is the same. It's not good, George. It's -- it's not good. Though -- mother and I spoke by holo last night for a good fifteen minutes and she didn't once mention that I stole her home and your legacy, so -- progress, I suppose." She looped her arm through his, tucked her hand into his elbow. "I have mentioned how sorry I am for that, haven't I?"

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

"You are avoiding Wedge? Whatever for? I thought you two were as tight as-" Crossing his fingers to signify it. "-I assumed you two were nearing the moment of engagement?"

It only signified to George that he wasn't spending enough time with his sister. He ought to know things like this, he ought to have an idea that it might happen, before it even got to it.

"I do believe we should have brunch at least once a week. So I don't find these things out after the fact." Teasing her a little as they kept walking, her hotel coming into view. It was a nice place, but not as posh as George thought she deserved. Still. He didn't make a comment about it, that just seemed silly right now.

She mentioned Haravan again.

He sighed and patted her hand, clean thankfully, in a gentle fashion.

"I think I have spend enough time dragging you through the coal. I was dead, mother was dead, as far as you know. I understand the desire to not be in the place that reminded you of us both."

He paused there and thought for a moment but then made a decision.

"I have... been thinking. About trying to bring our ancestral home back to our family. What do you think about that?"

 

[Reima Vitalis]

Reima made another face -- this one closer to a pout. "The thing about living in one another's pockets is..." she began, but then abandoned this angle of attack and lifted a hand to tuck a strand of dark hair behind her ear. "He's a man of principle. And you know what they say about principles. They're like prayers: noble, of course, but awkward at a party." Reima Vitalis, the master of saying something while saying nothing... or was it vice versa? "We are -- yes -- still engaged, but..." Her voice trailed off and she glanced at him. It was remarkable how similar they had become ever since the Fortan genetics had drowned the Vitalis ones in his gene pool, and he grew out of the sandy gold hair of his youth. He had once been said to resemble their father at his age, but now she mostly saw Natasi.

"It will all come right," she assured him. The last thing she needed was to burden her brother with the dramatics of the affair, not when he was still coming out of the mist with his own issues. And the scrutiny at court, of being the as-yet undeclared Prince of Aegis, couldn't help. "The upshot is that I may well be spending more time here. At least until I find another job. I always said I didn't want to be some pampered princess but that was before I became an actual princess." She paused a moment, glancing back at the guardsmen who were following George. "What's it like? You cut a ribbon here, unveil a plaque there, then it's cocktails on the terrace?"

Reima was feeling punchy, it was clear by her chattiness, which meant she was feeling anxious, which could only mean that she was actually her mother's daughter.

"So I would be free for brunch, actually, yes," she finally concluded.

Her eyebrows knitted together at his mention of acquiring Herevan Hold. They exited the park, Crackers in sedate tow not that he had done his business, and Reima touched the button to activate the pedestrian crossing. A moment later, they were able to cross. "I think if you weren't mother's favorite child already -- and you are, and it's not even close, so don't bother protesting -- then you would be then. She'd find a way to go back in time and have another firstborn son just to name him after you." Reima glanced one way, then the other, and then stepped into the street, leading the way across the street and then to the outdoor café that was part of the hotel's restaurant.

"Do your boys drink coffee?" Reima asked as she settled into one of the chairs, tucking Crackers' leash under her thighs. "Should we order them something?"

When the orders were all settled, Reima turned her attention back to George and tugged her sunglasses of to rest on the table. "It's a noble goal -- and I'll pay, of course, the money's been sitting in the bank since the sale. But how? Last I heard the fellow who bought it was quite happy there. Nice man, pretty girlfriend. Oh, don't mention the girlfriend to mother. An unmarried man and his mistress defiling Herevan -- I'd never hear the end of it."

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

"Well, you let me know if I need to talk some sense into him. The man was always lucky for matching with you. I have no issue reminding him of that." Again patting her hand, as if to say: let your brother handle it, that's what he is here for.

George glanced over his shoulder to look at his bodyguards.

"It's as it often is, Rei-Rei. We order for them and they politely ignore it." Teasing her lightly as he settled into a chair of his own, crossing one leg over the other.

He signed and rubbed his brow.

"I am not sure. But maintaining Haravan takes wealth, not just money. I wouldn't be surprised if they'd accept a price if we give it a substantial bump."

George smiled there. "If we combine funds we can get their attention. And if we manage it, she might stop complaining to you as well."

 

[Reima Vitalis]

It was sweet, Reima thought, that George wanted to defend her. It was the way things ought to be, really. Family stood beside one another, supported one another, and in appropriate circumstances, threatened would-be in-laws for one another. This drew a reluctant smile from Reima, and she covered George's hand with her own. Reima was saved from committing one way or another by the waitress, who returned with their order, which for Reima included a highly caffeinated hot beverage, a glass of water, and a large flaky pastry of some extraction. Reima nodded her thanks to the waitress, who, now that she had a chance to study the pair, seemed to recognize George, but who was managing for the moment to keep a respectful distance and not ask for an autograph.

Crackers sniffed around the legs of the chair, long snout exploring before it sat between George and Reima and rested his muzzle on George's thigh with a wistful sigh. Crackers liked people, but especially George.

"It's true," she confirmed. "I looked at the books when you were... away ...and the cost was astronomical in Grandfather's day, but after the fire mother rebuilt it and implemented efficiencies, but still. The maintenance on the hydroelectric generator itself is just -- well, I think it's cheaper than powering it by traditional means. But, um, you might consider solar if you ever get your hands on it again. Contrary to popular belief there is sun there."

Reima sipped her coffee and then broke her pastry in half. She nudged the plate with the other half toward George. "Give Crackers some of that and you'll make a friend for life," she advised him, then broke off a little piece of her half of the pastry and popped it into her mouth.

"You know, many men have underestimated our mother, and few have lived to tell the tale," Reima reminded her brother genially. "I'm sure she'll find something else to complain about. She's no quitter, our mama." She smirked confidentially at George and then waved a dismissive hand while picking a flake of pastry off her collar. "Now, enough about me. Tell me about you. Are you ready for the Season? Did I hear correctly that you'll be in the Royal Cerulean Regatta? All those years in the rowboat at Herevan will come in handy at last."

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

Crackers probably loved George above many other humans because when he rested his head on George's thigh, George scritched him behind his ear rather than shoo him away.

"Always loved this little pup." Even though the dog had grown over the years and was rather large these days. He took Reima's advice with a bit of a cheeky grin and snapped off a bit of the pastry before feeding it to the animal. Who seemed very happy with it, if the waggling of the tail had anything to say about it.

He listened seriously to her words and nodded.

"As I suspected, yes. So I do think there is an opening there to acquire the Hold, if we offer a sum that will make this gentleman and his girlfriend feel like they are getting the better hand." Which perhaps, financially they were, but George was of the opinion you couldn't put a price on things like heritage, memory, legacy.

The manor belonged to them, he'd win it back for their family, one way or the other.

"Oh, yes, mother was rather unhappy about it. I don't think she likes the idea of me doing anything dangerous." For good reason. He couldn't fault her for being worried after everything that had happened. "But... I have to. I have to show the court and the Republic that their supposed heir is more than just a pretty face with an old name."

A boat competition wouldn't do that, of course, but it would be a start.

"If you are returning home, for now anyway, will you attend then? It would be nice to know someone rooting for me without some sort of expectations."

He sipped from his coffee.

"It's been challenging. Returning after all that time. But... one step at a time, right? Some people think I ought to just get it over with since it's been a while, but some days..." George shuddered lightly. "I still wake up thinking I am there and that all of this is just a pretty dream."

 

[Reima Vitalis]

Reima reached over and covered her brother's hand with her own. "Of course I'll be there. It'll be my first New Sterandel Season. Since -- you know."

The less said about the long, hard winter that had existed between Reima and their mother, the better. Not just because family feuds were unpleasant and not just because whatever else George and Reima Vitalis were, they were thoroughbred Galdiraani aristocrats, and talking about deep emotions was anathema, especially in public.

"I'm thinking about taking a house in town," Reima said casually. "This is a nice hotel, but it does feel a bit -- sterile." She frowned thoughtfully and dropped her hand to Crackers' head; the pup gave a little huff of satisfaction. "And my boy needs some space to stretch his legs and run free, get some of that extra nervous energy out. And so does Crackers," she added with a confidential smirk to her brother.

But all the frivolity in the world could not bury the specter of George's ordeal in the Netherworld. Even Reima, who had spent some time there to pull George out, sometimes remembered the bone-aching chill, the sickly sweet smell of decay, the strange, rough-stone facsimile of Herevan. Most of all, she remembered the anguish in George's face, the confusion and despair of being unable to ascertain what and who was real. Her hand went to his again, then the other covered it, warm from holding the coffee cup.

"It's going to take time, I think," Reima said, her voice soft, the humor evaporated. "You have to be patient with yourself. And George... call me. Any time, day or night. You don't have to be alone with this. Not for a minute. Not if you don't want to be."

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

I do not wish to be a burden.

But George didn't say that part out loud. Part of their upbringing was to never be the victim. Even admitting as much as he just had, was a lot, something he could only do to Reima Vitalis without feeling worried that it would bite him in the rear end somehow. "I... appreciate that, Rei. And if you need some help with picking out a nice place, let me know, I do have some connections around this place you know."

"It would be good to have you close. I am sure mother would agree even if she won't ever say it out loud." Teasing her a little and squeezing her hand in return before taking it back so he could chew on one of the biscuits and take a sip of tea.

He leaned back and watched her curiously.

"Do you want to return to court in a more official manner too? Pick up some duties? Or are you still weighing things and seeing where it will land once you move back?"

George wouldn't mind one way or the other.

Having his sister back near the family was good enough for him.

 

[Reima Vitalis]

"Do you have time to play estate agent with me?" Reima asked incredulously. "Because if you do, I'd love it. My time on Aegis has been limited, so far." She frowned thoughtfully, her attention momentarily caught by a passing speeder, a jaunty little sports model seemed fully capable of blowing the speed limits on New Sterandel's tranquil streets. "Mummy has suggested that there will be some kind of land gift to Wedge along with whatever title she settles on before the wedding. So that he can keep me in the style to which I've become accustomed."

She fixed her brother with a deadpan look so as to suggest how ridiculous it was that she -- rich as she was -- needed a husband's title to secure her lifestyle. "And," she went on. "That's very generous of her, of course, but I don't want to live in the country all the time. You know me -- city mouse through and through. But it would have to be somewhere safe and fashionable and close to the right dressmakers and things."

Reima took a sip of her coffee and watched Crackers, as he began to doze off against George's knee. "What about you? Are you going to have a place in town, or does mother want to keep you under her thumb at the River Palace?" She set her cup down. "If you're going to be ramping up your duties, you'll need an establishment of your own. Private secretaries and staff and all sorts."

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

"I will make time for you." He declared without skipping a beat. Whatever would help get her to settle down and be part of their lives in a closer fashion.

But George didn't comment on the land gift part.

In truth he still harboured doubts about her infatuation with a commoner. It was one thing to rely on someone not of noble birth or even become friends with them. But the mixing of bloodlines, George didn't really know where that was coming from.

It was none of his business however and he had never vocalized those concerns.

"Well, you know mother, she'd prefer if I remained as close as I could be." But he laughed there. "I have been looking at my own place, exactly as you say, it will make things easier if I have my own household and my own..."

It seemed crude to say base of power. It made it sound so barbaric and base. As if there was a fight to be had.

"Resources to rely on. There will come a time I will have to step up, that's what mother says all the time, but that is rather hard when she doesn't seem to want to let go, no?"

He understood it.

It was why George was so patient with her, the things she had gone through in the Netherworld had left a mark on her as much as on him.

But there came a time he'd have to chart his own path, just a little.

 

[Reima Vitalis]

"One must cut the apron strings sometime," Reima said thoughtfully, her dark eyes becoming enigmatic as she let them travel down him, then back up. She regretted it the moment she said it -- not because it was mean-spirited or somehow callous, because that's not how she meant it. But she felt that George could stand a little observation. One did not simply recover from being trapped in the Netherworld overnight. And she knew that he bore it more deeply than he let on. Behind the starched collars and the confidence, like Reima, George was a sensitive soul.

She took a deep breath and offered a smile. "For all she talks about you needing to be prepared to lead -- she does seem rather gunshy about giving you responsibility." Reima glanced at one of the plainclothesmen as he shifted his weight side to side, the movement making her flinch internally until he settled back into a placid silence.

"You won't hear me defend Mother often, but I have to respect her philosophy when it comes to power. That it's more burden than privilege. That its exercise is evidenced by its absence more than its presence. But you still need to be able to touch it. See how it feels in your hands. Test the weight of it. By God, I make it sound like you're buying a horse." She waved a delicate hand. "Forget me, George, there's a reason Mother has kept me far away from the levers of power."

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

He blinked at her comment and then chuckled, a bit awkwardly, but George didn't take offense.

"I am not that bad, Rei-Rei." Said with amusement as he glanced to the footman himself and then back to her. "But I catch your sentiment."

It was a two-way street.

Their mother also seemed to let her worry about him overrule other matters. But it was a difficult thing to address. He didn't want to hurt her feelings but also knew that inherently things couldn't go on the way they were.

"I shan't. Forget you, that is. You are speaking wisdom, so I should heed it. I will talk to mother and push on the matter of responsibility." He reached out and patted Reima's hand gently.

"I don't think she is keeping you away from it. I just think she wants one child that doesn't have to suffer the weight." A little smirk there.

"If you want, I can request her to give you a load of responsibilities alongside me, how does that sound?"

 

[Reima Vitalis]

Reima flashed her brother a warning glare that was so like one their mother might have given that the irony would have been overwhelming if she had caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror. "You will do no such thing if you value having all your fingers attached," Reima said conversationally. "I understand the point of nobility and monarchy, but there is more important work to be done than cutting ribbons and pulling handles to unveil plaques."

Some of her own anxieties coming out now; the would-be Princess was facing an uncertain future. Of course, it was the occupational risk of any youngster in possession of a trust fund. With no true existential threat of homelessness or starvation, normal jobs started to look like ennui. Her current occupation was thrilling enough, but it was coming to an end, and though she was sure Wedge would land on his feet she was in no particular hurry to put herself under her future husband's command. Living and working together, they might as well be in each other's pockets, and Reima suspected it would start to chafe.

"While we're on the subject... I thought you should know that I won't be renewing my commission with the Galactic Alliance." She paused a moment, her fingers twitching for a cigarette, but she had given them up. Again. Between Wedge's drumming out and Natasi's imminent departure from the Senate and the Galactic Empire's little blob popping up practically next door, it seemed like the right time. "I don't think there will be a scandal; I'm a highly decorated war hero, after all, and I'll be honorably discharged."

She picked up her coffee cup and swished it around a little, then lifted it to her lips. Before sipping she said: "You wouldn't... let Mummy know for me, would you? Only I feel like it would entail... a lot. Knowing her."

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

"Oh, I wouldn't let you cut ribbons, I'd just have you talk to all the annoying diplomats that I dislike." George said with a smirk and wiggling his fingers between them. As if to say, come and get them.

He was about to ask if Reima had any specific thing she wanted to pursue. His sister was brilliant, she could do anything she put her mind to.

In this way George wasn't worried the way she was worried about herself.

He had full faith in her.

"Oh, I don't know, I think mother will be happy you are not putting your life on the line for the Alliance." A soft shrug there. "We are part of the Alliance, yes, but I suspect she would be more keen for you to work more directly with our government."

They had their own intelligence apparatus, their own bureaucracy, their own operatives, George could easily see Reima cutting her own lane there.

But then George nodded.

"I will talk to her about it. Let her know. If she takes it well enough, I will let you know and we can have a tea party, the three of us."

Then a smirk.

"If not, I will weather the storm for the both of us."

 

[Reima Vitalis]

"It's not the danger that I feel she would care about," Reima said quietly, her fingers knitting together. She adapted a thoughtful look, faraway, deep inside herself. It was a moment before she spoke again. "Not for me anyway. I notice she hasn't tried to slap a uniform onto you yet. And she's quite right, too, for there are other ways for an heir to the throne of the Renascent Heirate to serve the public. No, it's the scandal. It was quite a shock for her, I think, when Wedge..."

She closed her eyes and shook her head softly, as if unsure of what really to say.

"At any rate, there is an air of suspicion around him, and -- by extension, me -- and you know how mother feels about... that sort of thing."

She opened her eyes, found her brother's with her own. It was surprising how similar the pair were, now that George had grown into the Fortan side of his looks. Their eyes were just like Natasi's, for good or for ill.

"I'm not sure tea with Mummy is such a good idea. The last time I was there she said shall I be mother? and I said try it, you might like it. I thought it was just a little joke, but she seemed to read it as some sort of -- attack -- on her maternity." A beat, then Reima's eyes met his, then her face fell a little. Embarrassed. "Probably because it was. I don't know why I can't seem to stop myself. It's frustrating."

 

[George Vitalis]

What else to expect from a commoner?

He liked Wedge well enough, a good chap, but the fact that his personal troubles with the Alliance were now being reflected on Reima Vitalis was something that he could not look past completely. He kept it inside of him though. His sister knew him well enough to see the signs anyway, the sharpening of his jaw, the tightening of his lips and those eyes that took it all in but stayed silent.

"You will be resigning with honors, sister, I don't care about needless gossip. That is what we should focus on. You have served with merit and you have been a hero to the whole nation, not just this small part of it." He reached out and patted her on the hand again. He felt like he was doing that too much already, but it brought him comfort.

To know that she was close enough he could hold her hand when one of them needed it.

A hologram didn't do it any justice.

Eyebrows rose up at the little story of her last interaction with their mother. "Oh... Rei-Rei." A feint smile there, tickled, even if he knew exactly how much that would have carved into their mother.

But nodding anyway.

"I... understand. She is a hard woman to love, but she is trying, you know." Softly there. It was hard to be in the middle of it. "But trying is not the same as being, I do get it."

"There are few of us left, of our family, we should make the effort. I won't force you to, but I think tea time would be a small start. We cannot let history keep us from building a new future. Not now that we are all together... here... alive again."

 

[Reima Vitalis]

Trying my patience, Reima quipped internally. It wasn't fair to put George in the middle, not more than he already was by virtue of having a foot in both camps. And though his sister had no doubt of the princeling's love for her, Reima had little doubt that if push came to shove, his upbringing would cause him to choose Natasi's side over Reima's every day of the week, and twice on Sundays. It was less to do with privilege and more to do with duty, but still. One did not have George's life and come out of it with an idea toward letting someone else solve the galaxy's problems.

"I'll take it under advisement," said Reima thoughtfully, reaching over to put her hand over George's. "For your sake. But I want to accomplish it on my own terms, you know? It would be the height of embarrassment to come home to mummy without prospects. Wedge at least has his reputation as the galaxy's pre-eminent fighter pilot to fall back on. I'm good, but I'm not that good."

She inclined her head and returned her hands to her coffee cup. "How are you getting on with Dyrn?" she asked quietly. "What's it like, the three of you cooped up in the River Palace all the time?"

George Vitalis​

 

[George Vitalis]

Reima Vitalis

His hand shifted until his fingers could leave into hers and gently squeezed her back.

"Understood. You are brilliant, Rei-Rei, but I understand the feeling that you don't completely measure up." Each time he talked to their mother, he felt like he wasn't quite measuring up to whatever expectations she might have of him.

Maybe unfair but it was true.

He chuckled softly. "Dyrn is fine. A soldier through and through and mother makes him worry a lot, each time she leaves for Coruscant... Which is often."

But then a shrug.

"It's been nice to see her happy. We both know that's not an emotion that comes easy to her."

A hard life, ironclad expectations that she had bound around her path forward, it was a wonder she hadn't crumbled under all the pressure.

Maybe that's why she expected so much from them.

"You know, we haven't traveled together in a long time. Perhaps we should go on a trip at some point? Could be fun."

As if he didn't have responsibilities keeping him here.