[center][h1]The human form of the 100 emoji.[/h1][/center]
[center] collab between @madmonarchist, @ayzrules & @dracarysbitch  [/center]
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Isabella’s eyes scanned the room for the umpteenth time. Alejandro and Elias were getting up and leaving, while Lea, Rhia, and Dafni seemed to be chattering amongst themselves. Mai and Ivelynne were conversing, too, while Domitia sat by themself. 

Her gaze flitted back toward Venera and Erik, who had moved closer to where she was standing. The two of them were talking to each other; it seemed like they were old friends. [i]Mm. I would find it odd-last I checked, Veredun and Rustavya were not too fond of each other-but with everything that people are saying about Erik’s Agirlfriend…[/i]

Isabella felt sorry for Talya; the Notian princess must have been humiliated. Isabella knew that she herself would have been [i]furious[/i]. 

Isabella was about to go find a place to sit (perhaps near Domitia…?) when her eyes met Venera’s, briefly. Inadvertently. Nevertheless, Isabella didn’t want to come off as rude, so she supposed that she was now obligated to speak to them.

[i]How wonderful,[/i] she thought to herself, half-bitterly. [i]The crown princess and one of the princes that are most probably trying to use Father for their own purposes. Now, I wonder how[/i] they[i] would feel, should they know of the people talking of revolution…[/i]

Did the Rustavyans and the Veredunians know, by any chance? Isabella thought that it was not likely; despite the fact that the Rustavyans pretty much won Gabriel I the throne and that the Veredunians helped him retain it through the necessary technology to keep tabs on anything and everything communications-wise, the two other nations were not physically present in Evalusia. And, even if they did manage to intercept any form of correspondence, well...Isabella was fairly certain that most of the [i]Frente Popular[/i], the so-called ‘popular front’, limited all written communication to a dying indigenous dialect, one that didn’t even have its own Wikipedia page. She had no concrete proof, of course-she was sure that the popular front did not have a particularly flattering opinion of her-but she had a hunch. A hunch that was one-hundred percent influenced by the fact that Isabella had seen her older sister studying this dialect in the months preceding her alleged suicide.

Isabella clenched her teeth, imperceptibly. Thinking about Elena always created a confusing mess of emotions within her; there was everything from guilt ([i]I should have helped her, I should have known, I should have [/i]stopped[i] Father[/i]) to sadness ([i]I miss her, I miss her, I miss her, I miss her, is she even alive?[/i]) and even anger ([i]She told me to wait for her. She told me to wait, [/i]espérame[i] she said, but why hasn’t she said anything???[/i]). 

[i]It would be better if I did not think about her at all, in public.[/i] Isabella forced herself to relax. The last thing she wanted to do was to lose her cool in front of all these people.

Isabella smiled at Venera and Erik, knowing very well that the smile didn’t reach her eyes. Her smiles hadn’t reached her eyes for a long time, now. “Princess Venera, it is a pleasure to see you again.” A slight pause. “And Prince Erik, it is an honor to meet you.”

Erik was extremely preoccupied by his thoughts, and his conversation with Vera. Usually quite alert, Erik didn’t even notice Isabella walk up to them. He barely heard her. But when he did, Erik turned to greet Isabella with a smile- slightly forced, and very different from his usual expressive smiles.
 
“Princess Isabella,” Erik acknowledged with a curt nod. “It’s a pleasure to be acquainted with you as well,” he greeted smoothly.
 
Now, Erik really wasn’t familiar with the princess or with Evalusia. All he knew was that Veredun had some sort of trade agreement with Evalusia but didn’t know the specifics and didn’t care to learn them either. After all, foreign policy and external relations was something his aunt and uncles, and cousins, Konrad and Anastasia usually handled. And Erik tried to [i]minimize[/i] contact with them.

Vera sighed internally as she noted Princess Isabella making her way over. If she was with another Veredunian this little get together would be such a hassle. Evalusia was a spot of contention for her country and Veredun, a prime example of the nation’s two heads of state constantly trying to one up each other. Rustavya may have won them their government, but they were relying on Veredunian technology to keep it, Nikolas III was not a fan of that, and honestly, neither was Vera. [i]Remember who was gracious enough to put that crown upon your head you false god worshipping buffoon.[/i] She couldn’t say she was too fond of the aforementioned buffoon either. You don’t take over the world with gaudy displays of violence; real control is surgical, invisible. People don’t question it, because they don’t even notice it’s there. It only takes a firm hand when it has to. Though, in all honesty, what really pissed Vera off most about Gabriel I of Evalusia was that he forced her to acknowledge that her own father is not the worst possible ruler in the world. 

“Ah, Princess Isabella, it’s been quite a while,” Vera said with her own forced and plastered smile, though it was more convincing than either of the other royals, after all, she’s been perfecting hers since she was a child. Every few get to see her true smile. “And how is god’s favourite King doing?” She said with a friendly tone, but it was anything but, and she doubted her contempt would go unnoticed. 

Isabella nodded at Erik and gave a mental eye-roll at Vera’s response. [i]He is as stupid and irritating as ever, of course,[/i] she thought, though of course she couldn’t [i]say[/i] that. Isabella wasn’t unaware of what the Veredunians and the Rustavyans thought of her father, but frankly, she didn’t particularly care if they saw him in a less-than-positive light. It wasn’t like Isabella herself was any fonder of him, anyway.

Isabella let a moment pass before replying. “It certainly has,” she said, a ghost of another polite smile twitching at the corner of her lip as she resolutely ignored the fact that Princess Venera’s official state visit to Evalusia had been less than a month before Elena’s ‘suicide’. She paused again, lifting her cool gaze to meet Vera’s. “And my father is...well. Blessed be our Lord,” she answered, her features devoid of any expression and her voice completely deadpan.

Isabella knew what foreigners thought of Evalusia and her father’s obsession with religion. Again, she couldn’t say that she particularly cared. She felt the same exact way.

“And how is your father doing, Princess Venera?” Isabella asked politely. “I trust that he is also doing well?”

“He is doing splendidly,” replied Vera. [i]Too splendidly[/i], she thought to herself. Her ideal life plan requires that he die within the next 3-4 years in order for her to have everything she wants, but his never-failing health was proving to be quite the thorn in her side. 

Erik quietly listened to both Vera and Isabella converse- well, he half-listened anyway. Instead, his eyes were scouring the buffet table. If he knew little about Evalusia, he knew even less about Nikolas. Splendidly, Erik thought to himself dryly.  That was something his grandmother would not like to hear. All his life, Erik had learned one thing about Rustavya- Nikolas was an idiot. Well, he’d heard worse things, but his earlier statement essentially summed it all up. All he knew was that his grandmother [i]despised[/i] the man for whatever reason. Ever since he could remember, she had for reason completely rededicated her entire life to destroying and outshining his in every possible way. And Erik did not care to find out why. When it came to Rustavya, only one thing mattered to him- being able to be with Yelena.

Isabella nodded politely in response to Vera, before turning slightly so that her gaze was directed towards Erik. “How is your grandmother?” she asked, more because the rules of etiquette demanded it, not because she particularly cared about what Erik had to say in response to the inquiry. “She is well, I hope?”

When he heard his name, Erik returned his attention to Isabella once more when she addressed him. [i]As if I'd know,[/i] is what Erik really wanted to say. However, after the tabloid, he was determined to be on his best behavior. “She is indeed,” he answered, nodding curtly. Erik knew for a fact that people considered the Veredunian royal family to be close-knit. That was the illusion his grandmother liked to give to the external world. She liked everyone to believe that the Veredunian royal family was a united front, which it most clearly was not. Based on the tabloid, Erik had done enough damage already. He was not about to go ahead and reveal the inner workings of the Veredunian royal family, especially not to someone like Isabella who he was unfamiliar with.

The side of Isabella’s lip twitched upwards in amusement. “That is good to hear.” She paused, delicately, assessingly. “I do apologize for being forward, Princess Venera, Prince Erik,” she began, “but I am...curious, shall we say, about how the Empress is...handling the situation with the newspaper that went into print this morning.” There was a vaguely wolfish look in her blue-green eyes as she glanced at Erik. “My father...he will not be particularly happy, if he has not seen it already.” [i]Not that I particularly care, of course. But he’s irritating when things don’t go his way.[/i]

Isabella shrugged, nonchalantly. “Will you explain to her that paper is merely a tabloid, one of the more peculiar aspects of Aciran culture? I will try with my father, of course, but I cannot guarantee that he will understand. At all.”

“I can’t speak for the Empress, but I, for one, am most certainly not pleased by the allowance of this by the Acrians.” Vera interjected. “Tabloids may be idiotic, but they have real potential to cause damage. People, in large part, are easy to fool and manipulate. Not to mention that their very existence is what allows morons like those alt-right nutters to claim rubbish like “fake news” and “alternative facts” and sway the aforementioned foolish public.” [i]That’s exactly what we do when we meddle with your silly little elections.[/i] Though she kept that thought to herself, it may be accepted intelligence amongst the world that Rustavya meddles wherever it pleases, but she wasn’t about to admit to that “allegation”. 

Erik nodded at Vera’s words in agreement. Both Veredun and Rustavya did not have press freedom the way Acrias obviously did. Therefore, Erik was expecting such a comment- everyone would be curious as to how Empress Catherine and King Nikolas was reacting to the tabloid. Erik was not too familiar with the nature of the Rustavyan media. However, he knew that Veredun did not have freedom of speech, it just had the illusion of it. The department of public relations censored everything- any media-related product first had to be approved by the department before it could be shared with the public. And for those who did not comply… well, they were never heard from again. Erik was sure that neither tabloid nor Chrissy would have survived in their countries. [i]Freedom of speech is a nationally protected right, not a global one. She should have understood that by now. [/i] “It certainly is surprising,” Erik began, referring to the pervasiveness of Acrian freedom of speech. “But I couldn’t agree more,” he stated, nodding lightly at Vera’s words. “My grandmother holds a distinct distaste towards tabloids,” he explained, “she finds them to be exceedingly slanderous in nature.”  In the hierarchy of media, tabloids occupied the lowest strata according to Empress Catherine- a view most of the royal family also held. “I do not believe she would be too concerned with information reported in a gossip tabloid,” he added. Tabloids were not reputable sources of news. But Erik knew that this would be of little consequence to his grandmother…. If she knew that was. 

Based on his conversation with his sister the previous night, Erik knew that Juliet had intercepted the gossip tabloid and was burying it Veredun. But things had a nasty way of revealing themselves in Veredun- nothing stayed hidden for too long. Empress Catherine saw and heard [i]everything[/i] when it concerned the citizens of Veredun. It hardly mattered that they were on Veredunian land or not. Erik’s older brother Ferdinand had learned of this the hard way. Therefore, Erik couldn’t help but wonder how long the tabloid would be hidden from his grandmother for. She was bound to find out at some point. And when she did, Erik could only hope that Juliet would find some way of keeping him alive, as she always did of course.  [i]What’s done is done. There is no point worrying over the past anymore. [/i]

“But I am glad to see that we are not the only ones who find the pervasiveness of Acrian freedom peculiar,” Erik commented calmly.

Vera internally sighed again. Pleased as she was with having a similar viewpoint with her role model, in large part, certainly outside of Eastern Europe, the world did not share this view, and prattled on and on about “Freedom of speech”. Admittedly, she can see the side of those working to expose corruption or some such, but those celebrity focused “papers” that genuinely have countdowns to when a young girl reaches the legal age of consent, online blogs that spread unverified slander simply for clicks, that’s some fucked up bullshit that she is not willing to permit nor protect. Freedom of speech means the government can’t punish you for satire, not “I’m to rape you” type bullshit. Of course, she personally prefers neither. In any case, the resulting debate was always annoying, and it’s far too early for that shit, so she instead opted to move on to a marginally less irritating topic. 

“Speaking of peculiar Aciran interests, perhaps you’ll be able to explain this to me Princess Isabella. Apart from the insult to my nation, and my personal interests,” was she still salty as shit about [i]Game of Thrones[/i]? Yes! And this is nothing compared to when she found out Nika was a fan of that bullshit fanfiction. “I was quite perplexed by the fascination with your betrotheds’ hat. I simply cannot comprehend all the fuss. It’s just a silly hat, and I thought common to his land.”  

Isabella said nothing as Vera and Erik gave their respective opinions. Isabella was not a fan of censorship by any means, and frankly, she was quite skeptical of the positions presented by the other two. [i]I suppose the difference in opinion comes from being the person doing the censoring, and being the person affected by said censorship,[/i] she mused to herself. In Evalusia, not even the daughter of the king had the privilege of viewing whatever she wanted. Sure, she had exponentially more access to news outlets and media than most, but there were still...limitations.

However, Isabella kept these thoughts to herself. Personally, she wasn’t that big of a fan of other countries meddling with the internal affairs of others (Rustavyan meddling, for example, put her father on the throne. Isabella supposed that she should be grateful. She wasn’t), and from what she knew about Acirans, there would be quite an amusing outcry if Erik or Vera voiced these opinions regarding free speech publicly. Which, Isabella knew, they wouldn’t.

At Vera’s comment about Quentin’s damned [i]hat[/i], Isabella let out a surprised laugh. She supposed that she shouldn’t say anything too cruel about the hat, but…

“You and me both, Princess Venera,” she answered, dryly. “The Acirans seem to be of the opinion that it’s...amusing.” She shrugged, as if to say [i]who knows?[/i]

Once more, Erik nodded in response. Truthfully, he had only really registered the part of the tabloid that mentioned him and Talya, and Yelena indirectly of course. He really couldn’t remember anything else that was mentioned in the tabloid, although he did vaguely recall the mention of a hat somewhere in there. But he hadn’t paid attention to it obviously. But based on the current conversation, Erik didn’t feel all too bad about omitting that piece of information. [i]Were hats so uncommon in Acrias?[/i] He made a mental note of asking Alejandro to explain the relevance of the hat to him. Perhaps this was what was considered couture in Acrian fashion.