[right][sub]The Keizer’s Residence: Galgoria, Western Jodesia[/sub][/right]

The chamber was a vast, circular room, around whose periphery ran a stone colonnade, intricate designs carved into the hefty rock. Where other nations’ artistic histories would perhaps have led to imposing grotesques and gargoyles, the Jodesian Rijkdom had never been one for effigies or caricatures; while portraits of the Jodan dynasty and secondary respected families did now proliferate across the small empire, they, Agata knew, were inherently modern, and frequently backdated. She and the Keizer were both painfully aware that the beige landscape in Jodesia was figurative as well as literal, and his policy of which she most approved was refracting the jewel of the Westerijk across the Atlantic and into Jodesia, to build, if belatedly, a heritage befitting a modern nation based on more than just the diversion of water. 

This was, of course, difficult to accomplish without giving the impression that Jodesian culture could in any way be improved by any other process than the refinement of what was already there, and therefore it was no surprise that the comparatively laconic chamber of the Rijksraad, an echoing bunker of a hall beneath the Keizer’s living quarters, had not yet been touched by that ray of verve and colour. Comparable architecture in the Westerijk, built far more recently than the heart of Galgoria, took on many modern and American influences from its neighbours, while maintaining the strong spirit of home. Although Jodesia had some way to go, some modernity had nevertheless crept in: Keizer Maximor III was the a thoroughly modern ruler, at home on his throne in military regalia, far-evolved from the crownèd kings that once held court with sceptres and ermine, even on the same throne. Even now, he was reading and re-reading the letter from the Regentes of the Westerijk, only periodically glancing up at the assembled council.

“The Rijksraad is in session,” announced the Keizer, to Agata’s left, as the last attending member of the Rijksraad took their own, less grand, seat. The thirty seats of the Rijksraad, including the Keizer’s throne, were arranged radially, a quaint tradition that once indicated that each member of the council had a voice equal to that of the Keizer, rather than a supporting role in the overall chorus. Of course, the most important seats were occupied by various members of the Jodan family and only just fewer than half had at least some blood connection to the Keizer to speak of.

“I’m sure you have all heard the news,” the Keizer looked around at the assembly, “That Nationalist Brazil has struck our ally, the North American Union, in an attack of unprecedented cowardliness. Even as we speak, fellow peaceful nations around the world mourn the NAU’s loss, and we mourn with her. I have already sent a missive on the behalf of the whole of the Jodesian Rijkdom to express our sorrow and our support.”

“Hear, hear,” came the discordant voices from around the chamber.

“It is worth reminding ourselves at this time, particularly those of us with our feet firmly on our home soil, that the Westerijk is not just the neighbour of the North American Union, but her friend, and were the Westerijk not happily under our stewardship, it would happily be under theirs. One of Keizerin Marmora’s finest accomplishments,” there was a murmuring of unclear but respectful utterances at the mention of her name, “Was to maintain the peace of the Westerijk following its contested allegiance such that it could flourish to both nations’ benefit, and that the Jodesian Rijkdom and the North American Union reached a peaceable solution is a shared heritage of which we must all be proud.

“Therefore, it is my considered opinion that the Jodesian Rijkdom must not merely be the NAU’s friend in her time of grief, but her staunch and loyal ally in however it is that she chooses to mend her wounds and ensure,” the Keizer stroked his thick, dark, beard, giving his words due consideration, “That further acts of aggression are sufficiently discouraged.”

“Would this support extend to the deployment of military aid, Your Highness?” asked Raadslied Jeron, uncertainly.

“If that is what is required, then the answer will be yes.”

There was a pause, and his words gave way to a moment’s silence. The Jodesian Rijkdom had not deployed troops in almost two decades.

Raadslied Jeron, to his credit, respectfully persisted; “What of the Treaty of New Vaduz, Your Highness?”

“May I, Keizer Maximor?” Agata lightly raised her forearm off the arm of her chair, the languidity of the motion giving way at the wrist, her first finger pointing directly upwards, with the others tightly restrained by a powerful thumb to gently, but firmly, draw attention to herself. The Keizer nodded, “The Treaty of New Vaduz simply does not apply to the Westerijk. The Westerijk follows Jodesia’s policy of military minimalism only for the sake of the … sensibilities of our European neighbours. This does not mean it is bound by the same terms, nor do those terms apply to the non-military, purely domestic Rijksguard.”

“What do you have to say to this, Jeron?” asked the Keizer, with all the grace of King Solomon and the steely gaze of a prosecutor.

“With all respect to Raadslied Agata, I am simply suggesting that much caution is due.”

“With mutual respect, Raadslied Jeron,” said Agata, without awaiting the Keizer’s permission to speak, “The implication that his Highness may act rashly speaks little of your trust our nation’s leader. The Westerijk has the resources, the reason, and, insofar as we should respect that Treaty, the justification. We cannot abandon our allies on one side of the Atlantic at the beck and call of a twenty year-old piece of paper imposed on us on this side. Quite the opposite: perhaps now is the time to prove on the global stage that Jodesia is an outward-looking, modern nation that deserves respect.”

“Deserves, Agata - not demands.”

Raadslied Jeron looked surprised by his own words as every head around the circle turned to face him. With a voice like bottled thunder, the Keizer asked whether anybody else had any reservations, which, it appeared, they did not.

[hr]

“Agata.”

The Keizer reached out and touched his sister’s arm as she made to leave the chamber. The other members of the council had already filed out, having given their consent in so far as their consent was relevant.

“Thank you for your support.”
“You don’t have to thank me,” Agata knew there was more to come.
“In order to best offer my support to King Theodore, I have decided to travel to the Westerijk. From there, I can also best supervise whatever support it is that we can offer the Union. I hope this doesn’t… put your nose out of joint.”
“If that is what you think is for the best, brother. This is about Jodesia and her allies, after all.”
“It is.”

Even as they wound their way back upstairs from the council chamber, Agata could not help wonder whether her brother had Jodesia or her allies in mind at all, or whether she might have been better to throw that letter into the sea.