THE ARCHCHANCELLOR IN BLACK

[Cracker 4570]

THE ARCHCHANCELLOR IN BLACK

1762

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The air in Haense felt more dry than usual: a soft wind blowing through the black robes of Simon Basrid. As the white snow was now covered by a mosaic of footsteps, the funeral procession was about to begin. 

 

The weeping of bystanders and the grim aesthetic that enveloped New Reza swept over Simon who found the scene eerily familiar. The seventh Nordling War had brought a grotesque cost to the families of the Empire, with women and children facing the grim reality of fatherless households and devastated families. One always hopes that the end of a war means the end of suffering, until tragedies happen like the one processed before his own eyes. A great deal was lost with the death of Queen-Mother Maya Valeria, for her presence and life added a tremendous value to both the courts of Haense and Helena. She reared the young king and was a personal friend to the old emperor, a potential bridge between two monarchs, generations, and peoples. With her morbid loss, the harmony between all those pairs was challenged. 

 

And with that in mind, it only adds to the tragedy within a tragedy, when the passing of the beloved is intertwined with the morass of politics. Such is the fate of an imperial functionary who bears that mission to keep the Empire secure. It was biting that the timing of his missive circulation coincided with the funeral rites - and he knew that faux pas was his own mistake to blame. Yet, there was no time for wanton pity or reaching explanations. With a low rumbling grief in heart, the Archchancellor who avowed his Helena red for mourning black that day spoke before the assembled Duma.

 

“Your Royal Majesty - We, the Ministry, apologize on behalf of the Imperial Crown for its injuries to your estate and person. There is no ignoring that the shock that took our monarch upon hearing of the violent passing of the Queen-Mother led him to perform wanton acts below his station. And as the Captain of his Ministry - it falls upon me, to spare the dignity of monarchy, to answer for these.

 

The context to these acts do not excuse their tone or presence. But I will articulate them in short, in hopes it may provide some understanding. Our Imperial Majesty found a personal friend and confidante in the Queen-Mother. One that he hoped would help him understand a realm that in truth, every denizen in Helena could know better. Haense - this northern country. 

 

The queen mother and His Imperial Majesty had met after the terrible assault on the young king, together in mourning. For all the toil His Imperial Majesty sought to defend this land from Nordling aggressors, balking for weregild - he felt remiss in his duty when its own monarch nearly lost his life. When the Queen-Mother’s life was extinguished by rotten assailants of the same stripe, his temper scorched and he turned to ire, resulting in a destruction of palatial property and wounded spirits by low and unbecoming words.

 

As the head of his government - I, and my ministry, are responsible for all intrusions of law inflicted in that moment. The monarchs of our realm, His Majesty and His Imperial Majesty, are the fountain of law, government and order in this realm. 

 

In that nature, they are not held to the criminal code of our law. But we do not believe in tyranny - and a body must answer to inflictions of pain and harm dealt by the imperial state. That falls to their government - headed, in this instance, by my person. Therefore, I will seek redress with every faculty of my being. And if that is not found to be satisfactory, I, and my ministry, shall be held accountable in a court of law.”

 

With that, he abandoned the stand to return to his delegation. A room of weary and concerned eyes looked at him, and he looked back at them. He hoped that they had the profound understanding he had, that a crisis and tragedy like this should not deserve a second chapter, and that he would do whatever he could within his mortal power to see to that.  

[BenevolentManacles 2232]

John throws his closet open. His favorite black robes are missing.

 

“Basrid!” He curses.

[Eddywilson2 2117]

The burning pyre that memorialized his mother should have brought warmth to him, but Niko felt nothing but cold. The day had been arduous for the young boy who was quickly becoming a man. The Archchancellor’s words had been well received by him for the resembled a promise towards a better way. The crown prince has a quick opportunity to speak with Simon in the courtyard after the speech.

 

 ‘’This gesture is well received during this period of mourning. My Mamej was a great woman, and she will be missed by all. I am gladdened the Imperial government seeks to right a wrong rather than with Pertinaxi methods. It speaks lengths towards their intentions, and I hope these words continue to ring true. ‘’

[John Ivory 4547]

The Duke of Helena follows in the tow of the Archchancellor’s delegation, holding his head low in solemn reverence for his once ward-father’s apologetic eulogy. Let it never be said that the man in black put anything above his country.