ibiou

The Lady Chamberlain of the newfound Heartlander Confederation, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, turned to CHARLES ALSTION as they sat together now. "To the future." She whispered under her breath, unable to contain her grin. @Olox_

HEDWIG JAZLOWIECKI hadn't known her uncle, WACLAW, during her young life. Born in the last few years of his reign as the Count of Warsovia he had only been a voice within their home, or a rare sighting of his red hair escaping through a doorway. As the House of Jazlowiecki fell into a period of mourning, Hedwig could not help but feel the profound loss upon her shoulders; weighing her down. Before she slipped her riding gloves on to make haste to join her companions in the west, the Jazlowiecki lit a candle in her chamber's windowsill. "See how far we have come, uncle. Watch on as I take our name and legacy to greater heights."

II. THE FRIENDSHIP OF SAINTS The second PAINT THE SAINT night of the PARADISIAN COURT was once more hosted by Her Excellency, Hedwig of Warsovia, in the Hand of Horen. Following the success of the last session, the Lady Chamberlain sees fit to instate the artistic session as a yearly event, for the population of the great kingdom of Aaun to revel in artistry and embrace their creativity. Whilst the challenge of guessing Saint Godwin with descriptive clues bloomed fruitful art pieces, this session posed an intriguing question: OUT OF ALL OF THE CANONIST SAINTS, WHO WOULD END UP BEING GREAT FRIENDS? Purely theoretical, courtiers had the chance to group together saints based on their own justifications as to, if they were alive at the same time, whether or not they would be good friends. Additionally, they were handed a paper list of all of the saints; the choice of who they would pick being fully theirs. Once more did the attendees grab their paint brushes with eagerness, ready to unleash their artisan personas. The results of Paint the Saint night will be showcased below. Ser Sterling Whitewood @_RoyalCrafter_ “Saint Amya and Saint Arianne; Fides in Nature.” Lady Arowyn Whitewood @Frank_Dog “Mine is of Saint Michael of Cordobe and Saint. Arianne. Two patron saints of service, ought to get along with each other I think.” His Lordship, Guy de Lewes @Timer “Saint Edmond is the patron saint of baronial lords amongst other things, and I shall one day be baron myself, GOD willing.” Her Majesty, Amelya of Middelan @bickando “They are both saints and sinners. Gluttons, each in their own sense…” Her Highness, Josephine Florentia Alstion @Myochii “I thought it unlikely for an egg and a chicken leg to be friends. It's like an apple going back to its own tree to befriend where it came from. Isn't it weird?” Miss Jénnet @Orphvius “Saint Julia of Paradisus and Saint Judith of Czena; why, both patron saints are women! Mustn’t they be the bestest of friends in the heavens?” HER EXCELLENCY, Hedwig of Warsovia, Lady Chamberlain of the Paradisian Court

I. SAINT GODWIN The first PAINT THE SAINT night of the PARADISIAN COURT was hosted last saints day in the depths of the Hand of Horen. Hosted by Lady Hedwig of Warsovia, the twist on the usual art nights put on by courts of yore was inspired by the apostolic nature of the Kingdom of Aaun. Instead of painting whatever came to mind, courtiers would have a chance to use their Canonist knowledge to guess a saint based on three descriptive clues. Then, with those clues, one will paint an interpretation of the saint. The clues were as followed: He is one of the sons of Exalted Horen. The patron saint of the Heartlanders. A diocese is currently named after him. As one could guess, this session’s saint was SAINT GODWIN. A key figure in Aaunic society as its first king, it was only appropriate that the night should pay tribute to him. Everyone present took to their canvases and paint brushes in the instant, and began to work on their masterpieces. The results of Paint the Saint night will be showcased below. His Lordship, Demetrio Varoche @PufferfishTrash His Highness, Johannes von Alstreim @Balthasar His Royal Highness, James Marcel Alstion @Sefardi Her Excellency, Hedwig of Warsovia @ibiou Her Royal Highness, Josephine Florentia Alstion @Myochii HER EXCELLENCY, Hedwig of Warsovia, Lady Chamberlain of the Paradisian Court

The Investiture of Alba, to HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, was something that loomed over the presence of CHARLES REMAN ALSTION for quite some time. She had listened to his ramblings for hours upon end, each ounce of enthusiasm and concern, that when news had reached her she wasn't surprised. Rather, she was elated. "I shall seek out a gift for him." Murmured she, "It is the least I can do." Once she was back home from her ventures, Hedwig ushered a servant aside to arrange a bouquet of white roses to be delivered to the Hand of Horen.

The merriment of HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA as of late was apparent. As she received word of her summoning to Royal Court did she, with grace and dignity, humbly accept to be in attendance. Reaching for a quill and paper upon her vanity (whilst spilling a few blotches of ink in the process), Hedwig began to pen the LORD OF ALBA, with whom she would express her excitement to. @Olox_

THE NAME-DAY CELEBRATION OF LADY HEDWIG & LADY ALICJA OF WARSOVIA Issued by the COUNTY OF WARSOVIA on the 14th of Sun’s Smile, 1971 Hear ye, he ye, across the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun… rom the COMITAL HOUSE OF JAZLOWIECKI are the twin sisters, LADY HEDWIG MARIA & LADY ALICJA JULIA, regarded as familiar faces around Aaun. Yet, time has passed since the pair were on the uprise of their childhood. In the eyes of Aaunic society, they will become women upon the dawn of their eighteenth name-day. Both Lady Hedwig and Lady Alicja will debut in a celebration known as KUPAŁA NIGHT, to honour their Lechian heritage. Made from the wild herbs and flowers of the Langkette mountains, the wreath becomes the symbol of fertility, health and one’s future prospects. Both ladies will have wreaths tailored to their liking, different from the rest. From there, the garlands will be tossed into the river by the women present with a lighted candle. If it is to be fished out by a present bachelor, it is meant to signify a quick marriage with hopes in mind of gaining the man’s favour. If it was left to float, or burned in the candle flame, or even became entangled in the riverweeds it is assumed that the girl would not marry soon. Upon these followed rituals, the merriment of celebrations shall ensue. Beverages shall be widely available, as well as the companionship of dance. Attendees are encouraged to don lighter colours, such as pale blues, greens and yellows or white. All those of royal, noble and common blood in the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun are encouraged to attend, though special invites are extended to the following individuals: HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Charles Reman, Lord of Alba HER ROYAL HIGHNESS, Josephine Florentia of Alstion HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, John Valentinus of Alstion HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, James Marcel of Alstion HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Alexander Caius of Alstion LORD Leufroy Otto of Velen LADY Guinevere Milena of Velen LADY Siegmunda Agnes of Velen LORD Guy Olivier of Virdain LADY Catherine Éloïse of Virdain LORD George Lothar of Halcourt LADY Eloise Aleksandra of Halcourt HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Elianos Hadrian of Balian HER HIGHNESS, Kareena Isabel of Nasrid MISS Lucia MADAME Lulu Izar and Itri HIS LORDSHIP, Krzysztof Pawel Jazlowiecki, Count of Warsovia LADY Hedwig Maria Jazlowiecki of Warsovia LADY Alicja Julia Jazlowiecki of Warsovia

By her mirror did HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA spin around in a dress option for the Ball of Castle Monstresor, only to be met with the chirps of applause by her birds. "Oh, settle down." She told them. "It cannot be something too lavish, or too plain... eugh-" With a heavy sigh and woeful swooning did she fall onto her bed, hair sprawling out atop of the covers. "I must make my presence know, but how?" And at that did the poor Lechian girl spend hours anxiously worrying about the coming night.

he subtle breeze brushed by curtains, dimming the candlelight upon the mantlepiece. Its flame flickered with much intention, trying to stay alight, yet were snuffed out before their attempts could become of use. The height of the night had fallen upon Nowa Warsovia. Dream sequences; heavy sweats, unable to be cooled. HEDWIG tossed and turned. Sleep came and went for her, yet in bursts did she find herself swallowed in its embrace. She had been lost in the realm of dreams for days upon end. This one, in particular, was different. __________________ Half-bird, half-man; an abomination far known to the likes of Hedwig Jazlowiecki, yet ached with familiarity. With its human hands he reached out for her, skimmed with fingertips the back of her own, before joining them in union. The beady eyes of the bird’s head looked back. “You have betrayed the very thing you swore will fulfil you in this life, little dove.” The voice, clear, rang in Hedwig’s ears. There was an uncertainty to whether she could even respond in this realm, wherever it may be. She, aware of her slumber, only looked on with a distorted stare. The voice continued with question after question: “Do you yield? Will you cower, and accept it as it is?” “Why should I?” Hedwig sorely replied, croaking. Her tone had surprised her almost, that her eyes largely widened. She was too stubborn, too headstrong, too proud. Why should she? Yet she did, so invitingly, that it sickened her with a gut-wrenching feel she could not swallow. Her insides felt as though they were being wringed out like a wet cloth. The more she looked towards the bird-man, the more she was able to pick his features apart amidst her nausea. The head of a crane sat on the shoulders of a grown man, donning an attire of all-black. What spouted from his back were a pair of wings. The way he appeared was too natural for the hybrid to be in existence. One would assume that he was a frankensteined creature, but it did not appear to be the case. He was a mystery. “Little dove,” He started, “I have not come to you to give into your needless self-sacrifice. Rather, I possess the power of perspicuity. Obsessed with knowing, with certainty, that you forget yourself. You depend upon the actions of others that you tear yourself apart to make them whole. When will you have your share?” Hedwig, taken aback, pressed her lips shut. The bird-man continued. “Your suffering does not come from a place of honesty to yourself. If you were, would you not be content in your hurt?” “You ask so many questions—” “And yet, little dove, you answer none.” A moment, then, did Hedwig pause for her next response. “I cannot give you the answers you desire, for what I have done has passed. I cannot change what happened.” Little did she speak, yet in her words did she prove him right. If a beak could contort itself into a grin, it would have. Instead did the bird-man look blankly at her. She was too self-conscious. “I swore to myself not to come to regret my decisions.” “I did not mention regret.” His words, stern, were somewhat contradictory to his softened tone. He let go of Hedwig’s hands and turned her back to her for a few moments. She caught a glimpse of his wings speckled in cosmos and starlight. In other circumstances, she would have asked to touch the feathers; not now, in this state. Curiosity had always gotten the best of her. “You were willing to carry the burden of a thousand lifetimes and it still was not enough. Do not seek out pity from the earth and wallow in it. Metamorphosis—become, adapt, change. There is still hope. You are more than you think you are.” “And what, then, will I become?” He turned around, at last, to reveal the sharp talons where his hands once were. Sprouting with feathers was he directly at his chest, and the bird-man grew in size. Before Hedwig did he morph himself into a majestic crane. He was ten times the size of her now, that if he stepped closer he would engulf her completely. She was mesmerised by his otherworldliness. Those wings that belonged to the night sky stretched out on either side of his body and flapped, once. It was the sound of a beating drum, though much louder, echoing within the void they found themselves in. The gleam in the crane’s eye was vast and unreachable. He was another being now. Her stomach churned. “The depths of your possibilities are endless, little dove. You do not have to become a martyr for your cause. Watch then, the flames of rebirth embrace you to be something greater than they will ever behold.” The sounds of rhythmic drumming — his wings — once more ensued. Faster this time, more frequent. He was to fly off. His legs lifted from the ground and he swung himself around, soaring. As the crane went off into the null distance, Hedwig’s vision blurred… __________________ Bloodshot were her eyes when she found herself awake. It had hit her hard in the chest, gasping for air, panicking. Immediately did Hedwig’s gaze fix itself to the window. The rosy dawn grew brighter and brighter, spilling sunlight across the wooden panels on the floor. Her hands lifted to her cheek, and felt her eyes, for the first time, fill with tears. The dream—vivid now more than ever. She wrapped her arms around herself and weeped. For the rest of the month of Godfrey’s Triumph, little was seen of HEDWIG JAZLOWIECKI around the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun.

Upon her countenance was the pull of her lips downward as her cousin's servant brought her the invitation. HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, a girl much recovering from her own turmoil, let out a shaky breath. "Now, of all times?" She had asked herself, aloud. The bird by her had chirped back some reply, but alas, she did not bother listening. The invitation was left on her vanity as Hedwig took to sitting on her window ledge. "Perhaps I ought to go and show face. It would be rude not to."

The FOLLOWERS OF CHAOS were something HEDWIG had not heard of with some time; not since her uncle's near-death. Yet, the letter she read - what had occured upon her early absence from the circus - had struck her deep. Her fingers wrapped around the missive and gripped the parchment tight. "This must be put to an end." She declared with grit, "I will not live in fear of The Beast and its dreaded ways." Despite her weary heart, the Lechian girl mustered to send her own letter, though this one a matter of private concern.

IN COLLABORATION WITH HER ROYAL MAJESTY’S PARADISIAN COURT Throughout the expansive territories of the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun and among those intrigued enough to seek out such knowledge, it is widely recognised that LADY JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI OF WARSOVIA keeps good company in an array of birds. From lowly carrier pigeons to exotic parrots, her menagerie has grown quite impressive over the last few years. Now, in coming months of her fifteenth name-day, Lady Jazlowiecki wishes to open the doors of NOWA WARSOVIA for the denizens of Aaun and her allies to meet her birds, and learn more about the different species that reside in the local area of Langkette. Those who will attend will have the chance to hold the birds and gain more knowledge in how these birds can be used for things such as sending letters, in hunts and much more. Perhaps one will have their future told, a sign from a flap of a wing, that brings either peace or havoc to those present... HER LADYSHIP, Jadwiga Maria Jazlowiecki, Ward of Her Majesty, Queen-consort Amelya of Middelan

In St. Andrik did she spend her time as of late, in her room, keeping to herself. She found the place familiar, yet so far away - a resident in a complicated twist of family relations, who witnessed though did not act upon her thoughts. The candle in her room slowly ran out of spark within the last hours. JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI found sleep hard to come by this eve, for the past year left her mind in disarray. Was she truly growing older? Talking with the Alstion princes, the Halcourt boys and Catherine had cemented the inevitability in her mind; Queen Amelya's offer distant, yet too soon. She made her way towards the window and crawled onto the windowsill, perching herself in its arch. PRINCE ALEXANDER had come to mind, then. The boy had much vigor in him, so much hope. Despite her relcutance to like him at first compared to his older brothers (perhaps a certain incident, with her feather, had fueled this), Jadwiga couldn't help but stand in awe whenever he was near. So much character within him: not knowing 'Robert' and 'robbing' were two different words, yet the ability to recite words as if he held the knowledge of the world beneath his palms. It brought her to a brink of stifled laughter in the dawn of night. Whether he was involved with 'Catherine' or 'Catherine, the Other', Alexander always had a tale to tell and something to do. The girl shook her head and looked onward past towards the church and treeline, and onto the Hand of Horen in the distance. She could faintly make out the tower's silohuette in the dark, but barely, only able to distinguish it from any other landmark by the faint glow of the windows. Her candleflame eventually went out, all at once, so Jadwiga returned to her bed. Before she slept, she prayed for the young Alexander to never lose his sense of self.

[!] Delivered by bird to each child across the realm would be an invitation... THE SLEEPOVER UPON RUINS The Duchy of Stran was nothing more than a memory lost in the progression of time. Abandoned for decades did it stand as a colossal ruin against the skyline of the Hamlet of Enswerp, hidden within the flourish of shrubbery, to be left alone as it watches life go by. Slowly did the land that was once inhabitable turn into a capsule of yore. Haunted was it, for only ghosts took the role of denizen there, stuck in a period without no means of moving on. Paranormal activity seems prevalent in the area, and undetected. That was, until, now. The Lord of Alba invites the children across the realm to spend the night at Castle Arpacz — House Ivanovich's previous home — for a sleepover. Spine-tingling tales of ghouls & monsters shall be passed to those in attendance, as well an eventful few hours that surely will leave one petrified or thrilled. The more, the merrier; bring friends and relatives. In a land left in the hands of Mother Nature herself, who knows what may occur this fateful night? HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS, Charles Reman Alstion, the Lord of Alba & additional help from, HER LADYSHIP, Jadwiga Maria Jazlowiecki, Ward of Her Majesty, Queen-consort Amelya of Middelan

Looting was something the young lady JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI was taught against, yet as she came back with CHARLES ALSTION upon a newly-stolen donkey, she could not help but embrace the buzz it gave her. The mood was high until she arrived at Nowa Warsovia; the hand that held the reigns dropping immediately with one swoosh. Her uncle's abdication was all the servants were talking about in the keep. Immediately did she make her way into the courtyard, dropping to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands, clasped, went to pray. "Saint Tylos II, pray for us, for the dawn of a new era is upon us. May the Lechians prevail further than we have ever done before." The girl didn't know of her future prospects, but she was hopeful that House Jazlowiecki would continue to be prosperous.

CIECHERELLA in her spare time had been conversing with Emilio Varoche about the whole ordeal. "Was he-a not a Haeseni knight?" She asked as she handed over the cannolis, finally. "Everyone told-a me he was only in Aaun when-a he needed something". @Enlightenment

In the Hamlet of Enswerp did an Illatian woman, whose home smelt of sweet dough and spices, heard of whispers of a Roach disownment. CIECHERELLA was inept at reading given her social status, but her skills of overhearing her customers proved useful in the moment. "Oh, poor-a Lord Emilio. I-a must invite him around-a soon, for his cannolis." She murmured, before wrapping up a fresh loaf in cloth for delivery.

With a wince did JADWIGA continue to rub a homemade salve into her scrapes and wounds, overdoing it as one elven year old would, to the point where it was practically caked on. "A Haeseni knight...? Oh, it's probably the work of the devilish darkspawn up north, no doubt! I tell you, Kitty- no, I beg we never go there again! Too many coincidences of bad luck associated with the place! I must pray, I must!"

[!] An Auvergnian depiction of ‘Le Brutal’, or ‘The Brute’, as he swings a bottle and a chair Even as I am injured with a busted lip, I write this missive with good faith to provide a warning to my fellow citizens of what has transpired this very saint’s day. I feel it is necessary, given the character of the man I will tell you about, that you all must be aware of who is lurking in the nooks and crannies of your streets. This evening, I have had the greatest displeasure of being held in the clinic in Whitespire against my will by a man known as Ser Emilio ‘The Younger’ Varoche. Despite being involved in an altercation with my fellow acquaintances, his actions to force myself and Lady Catherine de Lewes to answer to his commands left me feeling powerless. He told us we weren’t allowed to leave the clinic, and physically forced us onto the cots provided. Despite telling him that I had medical experience (my uncle Witold had provided me books only a day prior, and I had nursed Ser Stefano to health) and that I wished to return to Merryweather, he kept Catherine and I held as hostages. It wasn’t until the invention of a gnome, Baron Emilio Varoche and the Alstion princes that we were freed. I want to preface that I was in the wrong for intervening and joining the fight, but that does not excuse Ser Emilio’s behaviour. His authority as someone older in the situation led to him going too far, for this brutish nature was not warranted on two young ladies who wished to tend to their own injuries elsewhere. He attempted to lay a hand on Prince John, too, until beckoned to stop. Is this the type of man you want your younglings to be underprotected around? Manhandling them like a sack of potatoes? Not only did this incident occur, but all day prior he had been parading around the square asking for children to follow him to “tend to his cows”. Each time, he would come back and bribe children 10 mina to follow him out of the city into the unknown, and come back covered in mud and filth. I grew suspicious after he came back not once, but thrice to do this; repeating himself over and over, insisting that the children must take his lead. Preposterous, I say! Bribing children to follow him like the pied piper of Aaun! I URGE my fellow Aaunites to STAY CLEAR of this BEAST OF A MAN, for he will whisk your children away before you can say ‘The Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun’! PENNED BY, HER LADYSHIP, Jadwiga Maria Jazlowiecki, Ward of Her Majesty, Queen-consort Amelya of Middelan

JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI picked out an option of three frocks for the Enswerp King's Festival. She was adamant it had to be near to perfection as one could get, for she was to impress a certain someone for the event, adorning it with additional lace. "I hope Guy will be in attendance, so we can burn our offerings together..." The Lechian girl murmured to Frank nearby, who was perched on Jadwiga's bedpost. Hardly could her smile could be contained as she fell back onto her bed hard; puppy love.

JADWIGA JAZLOWIECKI showed Volume II, with much enthusiasm, towards her royal companion CHARLES ALSTION. She'd become ever-so braggish these past few months after her achievements of medicine and of the arts, flaunting them like nobody's business. "She mentioned me, and my future! I have never felt so accomplished!" The paper was shoved into the Lord of Alba's face, before Jadwiga let out a squeal and twirled around on the spot. "Look how smart I've become, Charlie!" @Olox_

Round and curious brown eyes read the publishings of the Grand Princess with as much excitement as she could muster. JADWIGA MARIA JAZLOWIECKI, after entertaining Her Serene Highness only a saint's day ago with her puppet show, had a large admiration for the woman that seeped now into her reading hour. Jadwiga told herself that supporting the Chroniken der Fürstin was the least she could do for all of the encouragement, and so the young girl went on her way to fetch some writing parchment. "To Her Serene Highness, Adalfriede of Hexenwald..." Jadwiga pondered briefly whether or not she ought to tell Queen Amelya of Middelan about her new diplomatic affairs, bonding over puppetry.

JADWIGA OF WARSOVIA burst open the doors of the Hand of Horen with much urgency, that she nearly knocked over a few servants on her way in. With a quick dip of her head and a weak apology did she, with her childish might, speed up the stairs. "Jamie, look at what I found in the tavern!" The young Lechian cried, waving A Chef's Plight in the air. "The plot has thickened! You must come and see!" @Sefardi

IN COLLABORATION WITH HER ROYAL MAJESTY’S PARADISIAN COURT For decades, peace was a word unfamiliar to the Heartlands of Aevos. Betrayal, destruction and war bred snakes in the form of Stassionites, who with the Duchy of Adria fought the Grand Covenant to no avail. Despite the trials and tribulations faced, the United Kingdom of Aaun has looked forward to an era of prosperity and regrowth under His Majesty, John I. It is with this occasion do we, Aaun, invite our vassals and allies across Aevos not only honour the fallen, but celebrate our victory with THE MARTYRS’ FESTIVAL. PRE-FESTIVAL ITINERARY *As a part of upholding traditions and honourary values… i. Memorial mass for the fallen Preceding the festival, attendees will pay their respects through a service performed in the Temple of the Exalted Prophets of the Canon. This mass will honour the fallen, including the late martyred Edmund II. ii. A speech from His Royal Majesty, King John I John I, the current reigning King of Aaun, will follow the memorial mass with a speech addressing his loyal subjects and peers across the realm. FESTIVAL ITINERARY *To follow directly after the memorial service and speech from HRM John I… i. Aaunic stalls Provided by the best of what Aaun has to offer, stalls with wares, food, drink and entertainment will be available for all to purchase or enjoy. Stalls include: Boon & Bane’s, McDaaunalds, the Church of Canon and the vassals under the Kingdom of Aaun. ii. The Strings of Stassion, A Puppet Performance Performed by Her Ladyship Jadwiga of Warsovia, The Strings of Stassion is a retelling of the Aaun-Stassion events from the perspective of a child; performed through the art of puppetry. Attendees are encouraged to interact with the characters played. iii. The Burning of Richard Stassion A commemorative bonfire to end the festivities. To end the day, attendees will gather around a straw-recreation of Richard Stassion and will set it alight to mark the end of trying times. Torches will be available for those wishing to participate. Alongside invitations for all loyal subjects of the Aaunic Crown, special invitations are extended to the following as apart of Grand Covenant: HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Sybille I, and all who hail from the Kingdom of Balian HER MAJESTY, Catherine I, and all who hail from the Commonwealth of Petra HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, Aleksandr II, and all who hail from the Dual-Kingdom of Hanseti-Ruska HIS HIGHNESS, Cesar II, and all who hail from the Viceroyalty of Hyspia HIS GRANDNESS, Sigrun Stonehammer, and all who hail from the Grand Kingdom of Urguan HIS ROYAL MAJESTY, John Alexander, by the Grace of GOD, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Count of Whitespire, Enswerp and Florentine, Baron of Blanchet, Protector of the Realm HER ROYAL MAJESTY, Amelya of Middelan, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess of Alstion, Duchess of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Countess of Whitespire, Enswerp and Florentine and Baroness of Blanchet & additional help from, HER LADYSHIP, Jadwiga Maria Jazlowiecki, Ward of Her Majesty, Queen-consort Amelya of Middelan