“Kassio, what do you think she looks like?” he whispered to his friend. They had yet to reach the conference room where they would discuss the Romanovs’ terms of surrender, and Ivan had already successfully annoyed Orlov for the rest of the day with his incessant questions about the mysterious Romanov princess.
“I’m sure she’s lovely,” he replied with a monotone voice.
“What do you think she thought of me?”
“Probably not well, considering you just conquered her lands. The Romanovs are prideful and loyal to a fault.” That seemed to make Ivan’s mood droop. It was as if one moment he was a bright ray of sun, and the next he was a dark storm cloud ready to lay waste. “Come, don’t worry too much about it. Perhaps you left a good first impression. I was rather impressed by your civility in your greetings.”
“Really? I thought I did well too, considering the Romanovs were such a large territory to conquer, I thought I should give them some face.” And like it never happened, the storm cloud gave way to the shining sun.
“And here we are,” one of the attendants said, guiding them into the large conference room. There was a large wooden table with comfy chairs set up. A servant was ready with a typewriter to write down everything said, and another to write down the actual terms. Orlov and Ivan sat down, getting ready for some long negotiations. Ivan had planned to let Orlov do all the talking- he was the more diplomatic of the two.
After watching Lord Volkov whisper something to King Romanov, Orlov decided it was time to begin. “Our terms for those defeated are usually that of an annual tribute of traditional commodities, as well as a military presence of some sort. We also require some Vasil officials implanted in your courts, and a Foreign Minister to correspond from our Vasil capital.” Orlov glanced at his sovereign, only to find him staring off into space. Orlov wanted to face palm, but didn’t want to lose face in front of the Romanovs.
“King Vasil, anything to add?” Orlov asked through gritted teeth. Luckily Ivan snapped out of his reverie.
“Oh yes- is your daughter of marriageable age?”
“Why yes, My Lord,” King Romanov replied cheerily. Ivan couldn’t explain it, but something seemed to draw him towards the mysterious princess.
“And uh- how open would she be to-” Orlov cut him off before he could finish that question.
“My Lords, would you excuse us to discuss something in the hall very quickly?”
“Go right ahead,” King Romanov said very amiably. Orlov all but dragged his sovereign out of the room, like he was a child disturbing the adults. Romanov turned to Volkov. “King Vasil seems interested in my daughter, this is going as you planned.”
“But of course. Every man can’t help but love a mystery. All he knows about her are the rumors, and how she presented herself. Although I can’t quite say I foresaw him jumping so fast at the chance to marry the princess, it’s a welcome surprise,” Volkov said.
In the hallway, a much different conversation was happening.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Orlov chastised him as if he were his father. Ivan looked the part of the child that did something wrong.
“Nothing- I was just interested in knowing,” he said. Orlov wasn’t buying it though.
“Do you wish to make a formal offer of marriage to the Romanovs? If it’s what you really want, we can do it, but there will have to be some concessions on other fronts of the surrender terms.” Ivan’s eyes lit up.
“Do you think they’d accept?”
“They’d be fools not to.”
“You’re right! And if they don’t, we can just kill them!” Orlov knew one thing for sure- Ivan was clueless about the way to win someone’s heart.
“Alright, we’ll go in there and gauge their reactions.” King Romanov and Lord Volkov sat, speaking quietly about some matters when Ivan and Orlov made their return.
“King Romanov, I’d like to formally request your daughter, Ursa Romanova’s hand in marriage.” King Romanov couldn’t help but smirk, but quickly covered it up.
“King Vasil, that’s such a sudden request. My daughter is very precious to me- to give her away would come with some form of collateral.” As Orlov expected, King Romanov did indeed have a bride price in mind.
“What are your terms?” Ivan asked eagerly, oblivious to it all.
“Well, I suppose the Romanov state would like to preserve it’s autonomy, and half the tribute each year. We would also like to minimize Vasil presence here.” Ivan glanced at Orlov, looking for his friend for guidance.
“We can agree to the first two, however this is now Vasil territory. We cannot lessen Vasil presence come time for it. We can offer access to a trade route to the north, though.” King Romanov seemed to mull it over. He and Volkov started whispering again.
“This seems agreeable. Then, let us smooth over the finer details,” King Romanov declared, and thus, the marriage between Ivan Vasil and Ursa Romanova was decided.
Aisha spent the entire next day pouring over other material Ursa had pulled from the library and pacing outside of Ursa’s wing. Earlier that morning, she had stopped in to update the Empress on what she and Ivan had found, but the handmaiden Emery firmly stood her ground, chasing away any and all visitors, no matter how important they were.She was like a guard dog, really, the way she looked like she’d bite someone’s head off if they got even remotely close to the doors of Ursa’s apartment. Aisha had wanted to fight Emery on this, but she also knew how much Ivan had been stressing Ursa’s physical recovery from the chaos that occurred at the New Year’s Celebration, so Aisha slinked away back into the library quietly until lunch time, where she and Emery rehashed their earlier arguments. Inside the most heavily guarded doors, an empress laid in her bed with the covers half off, only covering her freezing toes. The rest of her sweated out a non-existent fever, while Cecily dabbed a col
The Poplov townhouse was located in the upper echelons of Ichares. The streets were clean, the houses were opulent and luxurious, the architecture a crude copy of the palace. It was not hard to break into the house, seeing as there were so many windows and not enough guards-- though this criticism could be shared with the palace.Ivan noted this.Aisha and Ivan were both dressed in black clothing-- Ivan in a black poet shirt and tight dark trousers, while Aisha wore a skin tight turtleneck with matching trousers. At present, they sat in a tree, watching the windows as light passed through the dark hallways, a maid checking the corridors.Aisha bounced her leg anxiously, causing the branch to sway with her. Ivan sent her a withering glare, instantly freezing any movement from her leg. They had been sittin
Aisha juggled her broadsword in her hand while her other hand held her dagger tightly. She stared at her brother, only the light from the torches around the arena illuminating his lean frame. Ivan shrugged off his coat and kicked it to the side, his signature sword appearing out of thin air.“How--” Aisha gawked, staring at her own swords that came from the weapons room.“Magic?” Ivan smirked, spinning his sword with his wrist as he got into position. Aisha made sure to note down to have him teach her that trick before getting into her own starting position.Neither of them moved, circling each other. Aisha’s left foot shifted and then she was off, launching herself high into the air, raising her swords up into a crossing motion. She landed on the blunt side of Ivan’s
Ursa gave a shallow wave to the guards stationed outside of Ivan’s study as Aisha trailed behind her with a tray of food. The guards instantly bowed and one stuck their head in to announce her presence. Ivan was hunched over his desk, staring intently at a particular piece of paper as his quill moved on its own-- most likely enchanted by Ivan, writing furiously. “Ivan.” He looked up, surprised to see the two women. “What are you two doing here?” Ursa gave him a funny look. “Our arrival was just announced. Didn’t you hear?” Ivan didn’t respond, choosing to just lounge back in his chair. The quill fell back and landed unceremoniously onto the paper. “We brought you dinner.” Aisha set the tray onto t
“Your Majesty, Lord Volkov is here to see you,” one of the guards from outside said, peeking his head slightly into the office. Ivan only waved his hand as an indication for the other man to come in. It was the middle of the afternoon, a few hours after the morning’s court session had ended and he finished his meeting with his advisors (without Orlov, he thought bitterly), but Ivan felt so very unproductive.He had sat there while everyone talked at him, only nodding or shaking his head, sometimes yelling at people who got a little too presumptuous. It wasn’t that Ivan didn’t understand the things being said in court-- after so many years of attending, it would be quite stupid for him not to have an idea of how these things worked. But Orlov made it easier for Ivan, always taking a load off of the heavy weights that already pushed Ivan to his knees.
“The prosecution would like to call its first witness up to the stand: Yuri Tetsi!” Orlov announced, and waited for the Young Tetsi to make his way to the stand. Ivan sat in his throne in his usual posture, his hand holding his face as he leaned into the side of his throne. Yuri Tetsi clambered up to the stand and took a seat, his hands nervously shaking. Once Young Tetsi looked ready, Orlov began laying the foundation of his questioning, asking simple questions about Young Tetsi himself before delving into the real case. “You claim to have recorded evidence of secret plots against the Empress?” asked Orlov. “I do. My own father, as well as Lord Haschoff, Lady Salisterova, Lord Grieschkov, and Lord Telbor all had conversations with each other and others about a few things. At first, they conversed abo