Plans for the Summer I

Posted on Sat Jul 16th, 2022 @ 5:46pm by Princess Royal Giana Orsini & Emperor Antonius VI
Edited on on Thu Jul 13th, 2023 @ 6:55pm

Mission: Historiae Terrae Et Imperii
Location: Grand Imperial Palace, Rome
Timeline: Date 2371-05-26 at 2000
4454 words - 8.9 OF Standard Post Measure

The Emperor of the Terrans sat in his large wood and black-leather chair behind a desk as large as a treaty table, his eyes glued to an old book that was sitting open in front of him. His aged fingers traced the lines as he yawned. The room was a huge roman chamber with a glass dome ceiling stretched atop huge white columns. The office proper was a long, tall rectangle with said pillars and blue walls. Book shelves lined the walls on either side and on the back wall, behind the Emperor’s desk, was a large painting of Zephram Cochrane shooting the first Vulcan Terran eyes had ever seen. At the far end, the rectangle ended in a large round atrium lined with braziers lit with burning fires, paintings, couches, and chairs. Several servants milled around in this area before the grand staircase leading up from downstairs.

Antonius tapped his fingers on the desk repeatedly, his mind trailing away from the book to a song half-formed in his mind. During his life, he had enriched the life of the court with more than his judgements and laws, but with books, art, and music. In his way, he was a dreamer, and he was concerned the light of the Empire might die with him considering the challenges to come.

The relative peace Antonius had was interrupted slowly at first by the sound of quiet tapping that grew steadily louder and broke into two distinct sounds - something more akin to a click while the second remained a slow, strong tap. Shadows began to play on the walls of the stairs, the sounds growing louder until Princess Giana finally crested the top step followed closely behind a young, attractive man who was playing her guard today. She was dressed modestly for this meeting: a knee length dark purple chiffon dress with an unassuming v-neck that showed only the smallest hint of her assets underneath. She had planned on going out shopping today for an upcoming trip, but when one was summoned by the emperor, plans immediately changed. She put on a warm and affectionate smile, seeing her father seated in his chair and not really paying attention to anything in particular.

"Good morning. You wanted to see me?" She asked in a sweet voice that was fit for a loving daughter.

Antonius blinked, the sound of the approaching pair not registering for him over the sweet music now playing in his head. It was only when she spoke that the Emperor took serious note of the fact he was being addressed. He almost startled, though it was more the jolt of sudden distraction, and then he fixed his eyes on Giana and the young man with her. He was used to his daughter's tendency to select 'pets' from among the sons and daughters of the elite. He found it an annoying habit, but seldom actually said anything about it.

"Ah, Giana Bella! You've come just as I asked. I did want to see you, of course. I wanted nothing more than to see you." the Emperor said, smiling and speaking in his characteristic dramatic fashion. He was not always happy with his daughter, but his love for her was unmistakable, simple, and almost childlike. He stood, pulling his old frame up onto his feet, and rounded the large desk. He was wearing black suit pants and a closed top blood-red jacket fashioned at the front with golden buttons. On his breast was the emblem of the Terran Empire, close to his heart. He was no longer strapping and fit, but he stood straight and strode with a tired confidence. "And who is this then?"

"Hm? Oh." Giana turned and looked to the young man with her, her eyes scrunching briefly before she gave a bored sigh and looked back to her father. "Honestly, I don't remember." He really hadn't made an impression on her other than he was handsome, but it was still early. She didn't see the man visibly wilt behind her at her dismissive words and Giana simply pressed on. "How are you, father? Well?" The eldest princess was fully aware that of her parents' children she was the least liked and loved. It hurt, but she would never admit that. Giuseppe at least had the benefit of being male and that was at least some sort of redeeming quality to him... she did not have that luxury.

"I am full of song, as always. And full of frustration. The Empire is a bear to run." he said, placing a gentle hand on his daughter's shoulder, but still very much focusing on the young man next to her. He looked at him as if he were an oddity brought to him from a foreign land. One might be surprised he didn't lift his arms to see what was underneath them or give him a sniff. Finally, he spoke, his face neutral and his voice low.

The commands were clear with only the slightest hint at the possibility of threat. Antonius had a reputation for being strangely unpredictable, using his intellectual aloofness and his reputation for Machiavellian pragmatism as dual weapons to keep his enemies always on their back feet. Would he laugh in soaring joy? Would he begin to weep with sorrow? Would he become viciously and uncontrollably angry? None could tell, even, at times, those closest to him.

He took a step closer to the young man, and though he was a head shorter, he gave an impression of a man twice his own size.

"Greet your Emperor, boy. Tell Us who you are. Let Us know what you are doing with Our daughter."

The young man had begun to sweat, his soft grey eyes darting around a bit before he bowed low before the Emperor and silently wondered if perhaps he should be bowing on his knees. His mouth moved silently for a beat until he finally found his voice. "I... I am Arne Henriksen, son of Lord Eluf Henriksen of Aalborg." He managed to stammer out. "The princess requested my company on a shopping trip to Copenhagen." He explained and silently prayed to any god that would listen that this wouldn't end poorly for him. Aalborg was a minor Danish city and very likely not anything that would ever attract the imperial eye outside of the fact that Arne was an exceptionally attractive young man.

Giana gave a soft sigh, not looking back to her father and escort and instead just looking around the room. Her father didn't really want to see her for no reason, she imagined. He never did. No that little glory was reserved for Paolo.

"Aalborg, hmm? I believe I was there once when I was Crown Prince." Antonius stated, his direct an intimidating demeanor melting into an erudite consideration, sober. He gave a somewhat friendly half smile then. "Well, your shopping trip has given you a memory you will never forget, for better or worse, wouldn't you say? Giana loves to give people such memories." He looked at his daughter, his gaze discerning, finding himself slightly annoyed at her lack of attention. Wealth and power softened the soul, and most of his children, in his mind, were an example of that truth. "Anyway, you will find a very comfortable seat in the rotunda. Go find one, would you, and...Giana will be there somewhat soon."

"Of course, my Emperor. Thank you." Arne replied with respect and fear. He backed a away few steps, still in his low bow before he finally turned and practically skittered off to do as Antonius had bid.

Any of Giana's warmth had melted away the moment her father's attention had - once again - been turned away from her. Her expression had evened into neutrality and she clasped her hands in front of her. She wanted to ask what it was her father wanted from her this time, but she knew better than to dare to do that. So she simply waited with frustrated detachment.

"You don't look for force of character, I see." Antonius said, watching the young man scurry away before walking around his desk and finding his seat again. "Have a seat then, Puppet. I won't take too much of your time. I wanted to speak with you about something which your mother will not stop harping on. The question of your marriage."

"I don't need force of character for a shopping trip." Giana replied, trying to keep the exasperated tone from her voice but not succeeding entirely. When she heard the reason she had been summoned, she visibly bristled but compliantly moved to sit down. This was usually a subject reserved for her mother and hearing those words out of her father's mouth created a pit in her stomach. She sat up straight and crossed her legs. "Yes?"

"We heard that you were seem publicly with Lord Noah Sibiya of South Africa. He is handsome, capable, intelligent, and I would like to ensure his loyalty with a tie to our family." Antonius said, trying his best not to use a heavy hand. He had all the authority he needed to tell her to marry the man and surely enough power to force the issue, but in the end, he had a sort of softness for his children which prevented him from such an act. "You have been very...flighty...on this subject with your mother, and she begins to despair you will die an old maid."

Giana’s face scrunched immediately when she remembered the party. Mocked by Athanasia, snubbed by Edward (whom she did in turn snub even worse), then salvaged by the amusing presence of Lord Sibiya. Marriage, though? She looked at her father, working to get her face back to a simple frown of disapproval. “Mother has always had a penchant for dramatics. Lord Sibiya was kind to me when Edward chose to snub me in front of guests at a party, but to marry him seems… a reach. What does he even have to offer? He has nothing but a title.” She crossed her arms. “Father, please, just let me be me. I am not ready to marry and you know it would actually hurt my social standing.” Though perhaps he really didn’t care.

"Says the girl using my money, my servants, and and my houses to a man with an empire on his shoulders." her father responded, his tone a lilting but calm music. "Be you? Are you serious, Giana? Who are you? And how would you know under those layers of makeup, and your expensive dresses, and the train of men who grovel at your feet simply because the media told them to want you. Please, Giana, spare me your illusions of identity. You are a princess and your duty is to secure our family. Lord Sibiya and all of the lords have titles that I give them. He can easily have another at a snap of my finger. Find a loyal man, or at least one that knows what's good for him; one that looks good on your arm. One that isn't a damn moron. I will do the rest."

Giana frowned and averted her gaze. Her father was the only person in the world who could hurt her and he did. Often. She licked her lips, hurt warring with the temper he had given her himself; it wasn’t something often seen, but she knew. She wanted to yell at him. Throw things. Scream that this is what he made her with his neglect and favoritism to his other children. She wanted to be loved.

But she also didn’t want to die.

She wasn’t a prince, and the loss of a princess while sad would affect nothing. Her fingers curled around her dress and her shoulders shook for just the briefest of moments as she tried to control herself. Finally, she licked her lips and looked back up, unable to hide the wound he had inflicted on her as she met his gaze. “Perhaps… we could invite him to spend some time at the summer palace then so I might at least… get to know him better?” She asked, a genuine request of her father and spoken with every note of hurt and betrayal reflected in her eyes.

Antonius smiled then, realizing he had done in five minutes of conversation what his wife had failed to do for two years. But such was the power of a father and of an absolute monarch.

"I think that would be a good start, Giana." he said in response. "Speaking of which, our greeting at Rio de Jinero Palace this summer will be quite the event it seems. The Lord of Brazil insists on throwing us a huge party. Considering who we are, I'm sure he's going to spend half his fortune on it."

The sadness quickly gave way to anger as Giana saw that her father truly did not care even in her moment of vulnerability. She looked away with a scoff, her father’s statement giving an easy out for disgust at the thought of the party and not in his callous response to the life she lived, but then her expression gentled. “You know, it’s a shame. I was very fond of their son. He could have been a suitable match. Is there any word on if the Vengeance will return?”

The Emperor chewed nothing, reflecting on the statement with interest. The loss of the Vengeance and the Terror were sources of shame for Imperial Starfleet, one he intended for them to bear rather than himself. Political survival was essential after all. He and his family could not merely slide into the middle of the pack. If he lost it, none of them would be able to remain alive.

"ISS Vengeance is gone without a trace as reported. Of course, they might turn up soon enough, but I wouldn't wait up. Getting lost in the Alliance for this long doesn't generally signal a success. It's likely they are all dead or worse." his statement was matter-of-fact, his voice not delaying the sadness which was written on his face. He endeavored to quickly change the subject "Lord Ivers is grieving the loss of his son and heir, but I'm sure he would be honored to hear how highly you regarded him. It seems many men wish to have that same honor. What about your boy over there? The son of Lord Henrikson? You obviously see something in him, yes?"

Undenounced to them, yet another person was walking up the stairs, causing the sound of clicking shoes in the background.

“He is attractive but as you said, lacks force of character.” Giana noted, hearing the sounds of shoes coming up the stairs. “The Ivers family is…” She struggled to find any positive words and just gave a sigh. “I miss our cousins.” She frowned. In her youth she had been particularly close to her cousin Lyra and her loss had hit Giana hard in a pivotal moment in life.

"I know dear. They have much to pay for." Antonius said with a nod as a woman with short blonde hair and a knee-length dress much duller than Giana's crested the stairs and started making here way into the main part of the office. It was very normal for Antonius to get distracted by a constant train of advisors coming to brief him, question him, or pull him off to meetings. It had become normal for his children. He leaned forward to his daughter slightly across the large desk. "This time its for you, Giana Bella."

Giana had been about to ask why her father had done nothing so many years ago, but when he spoke the last words she immediately became confused. That was until she turned around and saw the Imperial Secretary for the Glory of the Fatherland heading toward them. She immediately looked back to Antonius, her face twisting a bit. "What do you mean?"

"Your Imperial Majesty. Your Imperial Highness." the woman said, a slight smile on her face, bowing low to them before slowly approaching the desk.

"You remember CJ, don't you, Giana? She runs things over at DGF. She came to me a few days ago with some ideas that involve you and I suggested we should get you involved in the conversation."

"It's good to see you again, Your Highness." the woman said. Camila Zajak, or CJ as she was more commonly called, was among the cleverest of the commoners. She started her meteoric career as an analyst in the Imperial Intelligence Service working specifically in Romulan Affairs. When her talents were recognized, she was offered a contract at the Ministry of Culture & Media working specifically with Imperial media companies on the nature and quality of their broadcasts concerning the depiction of the Imperial Family. From then, she was hired as a Regional Director in the Department for the Glory of the Fatherland, the government agency considered by many to be the prapaganda wing of the Imperial Government. Now having become Imperial Secretary for that department, CJ had her hands in every piece of media, entertainment, advertisement, or public communication shared within the Empire. The power of the DGF was unmistakable, demonstrated in their ability to make those who criticize the wrong people disappear without a trace. Every time Giana Orsini saw her, however, she was generally there to tell her what dress she should wear.

"Please, have a seat, CJ." the Emperor said, gesturing to the chair next to Giana.

The middle aged woman did so, lowering her thin frame into the chair and folding one leg over the other, elegant and cagy. She always held her head high even when she spoke with her betters, but her words were always perfectly appropriate.

"When was the last time we saw each other, ma'am? I think it was...before your birthday party?"

Giana didn't slump in her chair, but mentally she felt herself go. She was frayed and tired - tired of being commanded and judged in equal measure with nothing to show for any of it. The last person she wanted to see right now was Zajak. Still, she was a princess and knew how to keep up appearances so she gave a thin smile and nodded to the woman. "Wonderful to see you again, yes. My father mentioned ideas. What ideas?" She asked, obviously wanting to skip the pleasantries and get back to wasting her life, according to her father.

“I’ve been watching your media converge very carefully and running the polls, trying to stay close to the hearts and minds of the average imperial subject. I know you won’t be particularly interested in numbers and statistics, but your popularity is soaring, particularly among those under 35.” Her eyes sparkled with a pragmatic and neutral energy that belied utter confidence muted by the slightest of grins. “Do you know what I think, ma’am? I think your talents have been wasted on the projects you’ve been given. Despite what some think, I believe you are the star of the Imperial Family and we should give you better opportunities than..throwing parties and having public breakups. Would you like something more, ma’am?”

Giana just looked at CJ. There was a slight sourness still lingering in her expression as she listened to the other woman tell her what Giana already knew herself that no one in her family seemed to appreciate. It was Giana’s name that was on the tongues of the rising generations in the empire. She was the face. She was the voice. Of course her father commanded respect and power, but to the commoners… she was the people’s princess. She was superior enough to be envied but not reviled, still giving off an air that if she was emulated, someone might know what it was to live even for a moment as a member of the imperial family. Still, she didn’t trust Zajak, not in this moment. While she had never been dismissive or unkind to the woman, she found herself speaking cynically.

“More? What do you mean, more? Or are you coming here to tell me you’ve already planned my wedding and telling me the date?”

CJ’d expression blossomed some distance beyond respectful pleasantry to mild genuine amusement, she broke eye contact, looking down and shaking her head with a slight respectable giggle.

“That’s way above my pay grade, ma’am. I’m only here for the glory of the Empire, and I think the best way for us to do that right now is to utilize your talents.” She returned to her previous demeanor, , her hands folded neatly upon her folded knees. “I would like to turn that question back to you, ma’am. What are you really passionate about? What would you do with all of your money and power if you were really free?”

The Emperor had resumed his book, his lips moving quickly and silently with the words on his page. It wasn’t clear if he was really doing so or if he was still listening somehow.

The princess didn’t answer and instead turned her head to look at her father. She watched his lips move, saw his attention engrossed in the book and a mix of emotions played on her face. Anger, sadness, disgust, longing… it was a complicated blend to be sure. Eventually she looked away and back to CJ, a frown still on her face. “Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere so we don’t disturb my father from his important reading.”

CJ looked between the Princess and her father, her observant eyes settling on the emotional reaction she saw to the Emperor’s lack of attention, and then she gave a subtle look of realization. The Emperor was a man with an elusive mind. She didn’t imagine anyone got too much of his attention. She leaned over toward Giana with an expression that suggested a small secret.

“I have seen many parts of the Grand Imperial Palace, ma’am, but I’ve never seen the royal apartments….or the kitchens, for that matter.”

Giana’s eyebrow quirked at the mention of the kitchens. The only time Giana went to the kitchens was when the family as a whole went down on certain holidays to “praise” the servants for doing such a good job. Why Zajak would want to go down there she didn’t know. Still, she gave a nod and looked back to Antonius. “Father.” She started, her voice a bit louder than polite to shake his attention from what he was reading. “CJ and I will leave you be and discuss whatever she had in mind on our own. Is that alright?”

“Absolutely, puppet. Go ahead and have your little talk. I just expect to hear the results before anything gets started, eh?” The Emperor said, a grin on his face.

“Of course, sir.” CJ said with a low bow. When she stood again, she turned to Giana, gesturing down the long room to the atrium where they had each entered. “Lead the way.”

“CJ, would you do me a favor? There’s a young man in the rotunda. Could you send him back home and I’ll meet you downstairs?” Giana asked with a smile as she stood. She wanted a parting word with her father.

“Of course, ma’am.” CJ said, turning without a second thought and proceeding down the hall as asked. She spotted the young man, having noticed him when she first entered the room. She stopped in front of him, her hands clasped in front of her. “Princess Giana has official business to attend to. She offers her sincerest regards, but won’t be able to join you right now. You may go by way of the palace transporters if you so wish.”

“Oh. Er… alright.” Arne said awkwardly and stood, nodding to CJ and then moving off to do just that. He didn’t want to be here a moment longer than he had to in case he were to earn the emperor’s ire somehow.

Meanwhile, Giana looked to her father who had gone back to his book. She considered him for a long moment and then clasped her hands in front of her. When she spoke, it was done quietly. “I am sorry I am such a grave disappointment to you, father. What would you like me to do? What would make you happy? Do you want me to disappear? I know you can arrange that. Living or… not. You have your favorite daughter you can still use to make your alliance and you have your sons. I know you don’t need or want me, so what do you want, my Emperor? Before I go and speak to CJ.”

Antonius looked up at his eldest daughter, looking at first surprised by the question and then annoyed. His flash of annoyance had been a quick onset and he said nothing for several moments.

“What I want, Giana, is for you and Elana and Giuseppe to stop being such pathological victims and to start to realize how very much privilege you’ve been given by virtue of your birth.” He said, his tone hard and cold, his face having none of the fatherly warmth which he generally showed. The melodrama from his children was over the top as each of them, accepting Paolo, seemed outrageously unhappy with whatever wonderful situation they found themselves in. “This fantasy you have of me wanting you gone is completely ludicrous. You’re delusional, girl. If I wanted you gone you would be, don’t you understand? What I want is for you to be dutiful. What I want is for you to pick a man to marry; any man at all. Pick a homeless fellow and I’ll make him a Lord. Take the latitude and freedom you’ve been given and actually do some fucking thing with it instead of sulking and complaining about daddy not loving you enough.”

He blinked at her and shook his head, turning his face back to the book in front of him and reading again as if she wasn’t there.

“I just want you to love me at all.” Giana replied, surprisingly placid in the face of his cold response. She didn’t wait for him to say anything, she simply turned and left to head back downstairs to meet with CJ, her heels tapping the steady rhythm of her retreat.

TBD