ibiou

C O N F E S S I O N S O F A N A A U N I C Q U E E N I cannot sit idly by as my husband is abused by the laymen and clerics of a faith he holds so dearly. As eager men make excuses for brutal war. I write publicly for what I once expressed privately: I killed James Marcel Whitespire. James was a traitor to the Crown of Aaun and House Alstion. Many years ago he turned his cloak in the Proclamation of Establishment of House Whitespire in reaction to the unification of the Commonwealth of the Petra and the Kingdom of Aaun. His foolhardy and anti-Petran gambit, chirped along with Tiberius van Aert and the Ferrymen, failed miserably. Thus, James Whitespire vanished into irrelevance. Some time later he assaulted and did grievous bodily harm onto his sister, the Princess Josephine, and had a hand in the death of Ser Alexander of Aaun. First a turncloak, a charlatan, and then a coward who beats his own sister. Indeed, blinds her. My rage was insurmountable. I have known too many women to face the wrath of little men. I killed James, and I was pleased to do it. It brought me satisfaction. Indeed, it brought me closure. He was a traitor, a violent thug, and a murderer. On that fateful day he belittled his brother until I could take no more. As small men often do when faced with a strong woman, he fell with great ease. In these moments, Charles had no involvement. The Church knows of my actions and my journey to penance. They have heard of my confession to slaying the traitor. They know of the details, have had witness accounts attesting such, yet still do they wish to bring forth trial unto Charles who has had his innocence proven. My testimony was heard by Cardinal Callahan, Father Elim, and Ser Ailred yet have gone ignored. Feigning ignorance on the account of a Canonist prince accused of kinslaying, through stalling a trial and non-interference in an unjust war, has not gone unnoticed. Tiberius van Aert is an apple rotten to the core. His grudge against my husband goes beyond that of ‘justice’. It has always been there, a jealousy parasitic in nature, festering in following James to Ascalon and whispering in royal Alstion ears to turn against the Crown. He urges to cleanse the wrongdoings of Aaun and yet his greed is written so plainly to see. Humanity hibernates as one of their own is made a mockery of, repeating the actions of barely half a century ago before their eyes. They have pillaged many of our kin, made intent to ruin our homes before. It will not stop with Aaun. It will grow, as a cancerous tumour does, wanting more and more. My actions are my own. Do not mock me by claiming them to be a man’s work. WRITTEN AND PROCLAIMED; In the Hand of Horen at Whitespire, On the 10th of Sun's Smile, 1989. Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet and Virdain

A Queen looked down upon the rocks that clung to the Hand of Horen, washed by the tides of the Silver Sea. In motion were they restless; a storm brewed close by. Bashing sea foam, their edges became rough and wet. HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA's blood was already out there, her father's, twisting her stomach as after decades or so war is boiling. It is all the same, each and every time. The tiresome struggle, as a push of vicious vipers keep the plague oncoming. Her forefathers are looking down, with yet another sigh. To her handmaiden, SPARROW O'MALLEY, the Lechian consort murmured as she took a step away from the ledge. "We will do what we must, Miss Sparrow. In these moments you will know of what it means to be Aaunish." @Sparrow182

In the bustle of the next morrow from the spoiled birthday part of the young Lechian did a cloaked figure head her way towards the butcher's shop in the Whitespire. She purchased some things, tossed her coins, and headed off to pen a letter elsewhere. At once HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA sent a bird from her menagerie, who cooed at the morning sun, towards the direction of the Margraviate of Grodno. "Dear little Mikolaj, I apologise that we could not make it to your birthday party. Adults often like to pick bad times to do things, and we were rushed away! It pains me deeply that you are upset with the lack of attendants. Once I found myself a hostess with no one to host when I was a little older than yourself, and I too grew rageful at the sight. But, we take our downfalls and make them into blessings. Mikolaj, a Lechian must always keep their chin up high. In the coming days should my gift to you be delivered. I noticed that you care for young pups, with whom I thought of on my errand runnings. Parcels of meat will be at their disposal, so they can grow into great hunting hounds. From your Majesty aunt, Jadwiga. P.S. I hope that you can still enjoy your cake. I heard that it is one of the largest ever made in the continent."

The Aaunic consort decided that it was time to go out and touch grass. "I encourage all to do the same," She told her wise sister-in-law JOSEPHINE, "It is refreshing. Some piece of mind as we restore our realm." @Myochii

"And once more, decorum has been restored to our realm." HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA noted at the publications of the Courtly Standard of the Paradisian Court, and in thought remembering the lack of etiquette during the Heartlander Confederation.

A pacing consort kept to her walk in up-down motions in her garden. The horizon had slipped into its orange hues, with pinks seeping amidst the clouds. As nightfall broke, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA kept on her guard in thought. "How many of them lied when they spoke of unity at my festival? How many wanted to see our downfall as they shook hands with their fellow Man?" Her stream of contemplation, out and open in the salty winds of the Silver Sea, was only heard by her birds resting in her menagerie. "I have preached peace in my royal husband's absence, and he continues to do so in the name of democracy of our smallfolk. How long can we keep the bloodthirst at bay?"

"Goodness! The gnomes are harmless beings, who only bring light into the places they enter. I sympathise." HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, the consort in the lands of the AGS' headquarters, commented out loud. She had been seeking out news that wasn't related to the current strife, to motivate high spirits. Her handmaids had picked up this word on a recent trip up north. However, it was met with a sigh. "Lembic ought to widen the horizon of his teachings."

"What nonsense is to be spewed this time?" HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA asked out loud, reading the papers far from home. Even here did her couriers make her known of her stately affairs; both factual, or not. "To even assume that we, the Aaunic Crown, are plotting some superior agenda as if I have not made my life's work to unite our realms since the merge my royal father-in-law birthed. Bah!" She threw the pages into the fire, crumpling in ash.

"Rest...? REST!? I will know of rest when one day I am to meet the Seven Skies, dear husband!" HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA exclaimed, in her usual boistorous manner. "Much work is to be done. I'm afraid this is only the very beginning!"

The Paradisian Court, formerly known as the Clementine Court, has lay dormant within the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun for quite some time. In the grand awakening of the merge of the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun and the Commonwealth of the Petra did a flame reignite in the hearts of the joint citizenry, who yearn for communal celebrations that uplift unity and uphold traditional Heartlander values. A goal of unification was attainable, though alas the dream ended. In the wake of the split emerged a need to reclaim the identity once more in the sole reign of King Charles II and Queen-consort Hedwig of Warsovia. The Paradisian Court will undertake a transformation to align itself with the Apostolic Kingdom. Far gone are the days of obeying the status quo of court life. Instead, the preservation of the nation’s heart will take precedence — catering towards its citizens and their everyday lives whether one is of noble or common standing. The main goal will be to provide education on different areas of expertise, widening the intellectual landscape of the nation. With figureheads like Queen-consort Eleanor of Provins who rooted herself in culture forming throughout her reign, the past will be reflected into our future selves to further centralise Aaun's distinctiveness throughout the human realms. As mentioned, the Paradisian Court will be dissected and wiped from the work of its predecessors of yore to fulfil its reformation. Each office listed under the Clementine Court of 1936 will be abolished under the command of the Queen-consort of Aaun and Royal Chamberlain to better fit the future comings of courtier life. Those who wish to seek a position after this publication, whether a part of the palace staff or as a courtier, will be directed towards the new system. Consorts [Currently held by HRAAM , Hedwig of Warsovia @ibiou] The consorts’ role, if they choose to pursue the courts as an avenue of interest, is to oversee the daily ins-and-outs alongside the Chamberlain. They wield absolute power over the Paradisian Court as an ambassador of the Crown. In discussion with the Royal Chamberlain incumbent, they provide support for a particular sector of the courts. In the absence of a Royal Chamberlain they shall assume their responsibilities. Royal Chamberlain [Vacant] After the Consorts is the leading position of the Paradisian Court; the Royal Chamberlain. They sit on the Heartlandic Council on behalf of the Paradisian Court and administer the executive day-to-day runnings that entails. As its head, this role aims to navigate courtiers onto a path that enriches their minds with knowledge and inspires them in their pursuits. Not only are they to lead, but also guide as a figure of virtue and upholding what a true Aaunite should appear like. Mistress of the Household [Currently held by HRH, Alicia Julia @scarahpot] The Mistress of the Household is the only role in the Paradisian Court that wields authority besides Royal Chamberlain themself. Whilst the Advisory Circle is held close to the heart of the court, they are only what they are in name; advisory. Assigned to manage the servantry, this role must juggle the maintenance of House Alstion to ensure that the runnings go smoothly. She must be flexible with her time between her homestead and the Hand of Horen, hopping between them both when duty calls. The Advisory Circle Formerly the Council of Alba, the Advisory Circle is hand-selected by the Royal Chamberlain with recommendation from the consorts to offer their assistance and guidance in matters of Aaunic culture-sculpting. Usually, the criteria for being apart of the Advisory Circle is as followed: - Selected members of House Alstion including the Princess Royal. - The Lady of Alba. - Trusted members of the Paradisian Court per Royal Chamberlain’s request, that provide insight into the scope of Aaunic customs, traditions and knowledge. * Their status of birth, whether of noble or common birth, does not matter in the requirements to be in the Advisory Circle. The Advisory Circle does not hold any direct power, however they can seek to persuade and be influential amongst society due to their close connections. Those within this position are also encouraged to produce publications on their area of expertise, as well as educate the wider population through lessons. Master of Revelry Available to any citizen within the lands of the Apostolic Kingdom of Aaun, one with this role is tasked with catering events towards the general population. A Master of Revelry should not only give ideas and possess great hosting skills, but be willing to lend a hand to other event planners if in need of assistance. The royal houses and their upkeep - servantry The royal of the palace staff is one of the most underappreciated roles in our Apostolic Kingdom. From valets and handmaids, cooks and gardeners, the importance of keeping the Royal House of Alstion's maintenance organised is dire. With living in the Hand of Horen to earning a wage, one who wishes to work as apart of the servantry will be fulfilled in accompanying the royals. One can acquire a position through contact with the Mistress of the Household. To learn more about the servantry, and what roles one can have, check our missive on the PALACE STAFF OF THE PARADISIAN COURT [WIP]. Patronage system The eradication of the previous systems calls for a system to rise given the lack of previous engagement with the offices. When once an office would house positions such as Royal Alchemist, Royal Astronomer, Royal Physician and more, the functionality of the patronage system would allow the Crown to adopt both institutions and individuals into the courts to replace roles that would sit in abeyance for years. For example, one might wish to offer their craftsmanship skills to the Paradisian Court as a Royal Carpenter. They would have to petition the Crown (usually, the monarch and consort) with the Lord Chamberlain in order to officially be recognised as that given role. The same applies for an institution or a business, such as a wine merchant who wishes to produce and serve his goods or a scholarly society. Whilst the old system only allowed one individual only to hold significance in their field, the patronage system widely encourages those of different class standings and walks of life to participate in cultural preservation and serve the Crown with their own flair. Essentially if one desires a role unheard of before, they can create and make their own to petition. To learn more about the patronage system, and who is a part of it, check out our missive on the PATRONAGE OF THE PARADISIAN COURT [WIP]. Wardships The gateway for most to gain a position in the Paradisian Court one day, wardship provides young individuals between the ages of eight-sixteen to learn under a member of the Advisory Circle or patronage. More information will be published as wardships are built on and expanded in the coming years. Overtime shall the structure of the Paradisian Court grow to revitalise a system once underutilised. Additions such as information on the patronage system and palace staff, will come with time; remembering that like our namesake, Paradisus was not made in a day. The continual efforts of the court will reap its rewards with years to come. AMENDED AND REWRITTEN; By the Paradisian Court, On the 15th of Owyn's Flame, 1988 Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of the Franklands, Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet, Gotfridcher and Virdain.

FROM THE HEARTLANDS AND BEYOND OUR NATURAL BORDERS, Lo and behold the day for all trinket collectors, valuable junk sellers, and hoarders to come together with one pursuit: trading their miscellaneous bits and bobs for coins at our flea market. May your most random pieces of antiquity be bought at a price: from enchanted items, jewellery from another time, a treasured possession to a surprising old thing dug up from one’s chest. What once were articles on a shelf, or in boxes without purpose are now revitalised for others to enjoy. Wanting something to add to your collection? Have untouched items lying at the bottom of your chest in need of spring cleaning? Both merchants and buyers are welcome at the ruins of Virdain; repurposed for all of your rummaging needs. Come down and bargain your way into a deal! ISSUED AND PROCLAIMED; By the Paradisian Court, On the 7th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1984. Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet, Gotfridcher and Virdain.

Across the continent and away from the lands of Hanseti-Ruska sat a deck of cards, tattered and worn from even a time before the current owner had them in her possession. Crinkles and cuts, jagged in the most abnormal of shapes; seventy-seven of them. Queen HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA was reading the invitiation before her husband, the King of Aaun, could. Having picked it up from the courier before him did she tear it open, and let out a gasp. An honourable mention. Hedwig thought she'd turn as red as a beetroot. Her skills with her fortune readings were all down to luck and observation, or so she thought, that the possibility of one coming true still caught her by surprise. The King of Wands sat onto of the deck, longing to be reunited with its other half. The Lechian queen glanced over to it, before fetching the same courier to send back her RSVP.

"Oh, Charles. You make out like we're on the doorstep of death! He is not far younger than us." Scorned HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, who was still very much youthful. The news could not help but make her chuckle however, shaking her head. "He'll do tremendously with the right guidance, I guarentee. I was barely of-age when I took on the role of Lady Chamberlain, so it is nothing new. Lord Louis has shown to have a remarkable skillset."

Before she was Queen-consort of Aaun, an Alstion, Jadwiga was a Jazlowiecki. As news arrived of her cousin's abdication as Count of Warsovia did a heavy sigh leave HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA's lips. "Krzysztof, who was meant for a much quieter life." She spoke out loud in the gardens of the Hand, looking up from the letter of his abdication. Her family was forever changing. It was only now, with her absence away with newfound life, did it hit her; Jan to be the count, a new direction. The rustles of the leaves left much contemplation that eve, of legacies old and new.

The last few years have seen House Alstion flourish with the additions to their royal family. On the 1st of Tobias’ Bounty, 1983, did the number grow. With the publication of this missive upon the documentation of his birth do Their Apostolic Majesties name their son, and second-in-line to the Paradisian Throne MARCUS ANTONIUS ALSTION (@Enlightenment). He was delivered in the presence of the Queen-consort’s closest ladies, where the room was basked in the sunlight of dawn. Only upon further inspection a few days later did the King find that the princeling’s hair was a stark orange in colour; much akin to Queen-dowager Edith of Reinmar. The morning glory brought forth the blessing of Prince Marcus Antonius, who in GOD’s guidance will usher in much joy and prosperity unto his name. WRITTEN AND PROCLAIMED; In the Hand of Horen at Whitespire, On the 12th of Tobias’ Bounty, 1983. His Royal and Apostolic Majesty, CHARLES II, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margrave of High Peak, Count of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baron of Blanchet, Godfridcher and Virdain, Protector of the Realm Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet, Gotfridcher nd Virdain

GREAT HEARTLANDIC FOLK OF NOBLE AND COMMON BIRTH, What once were two nations divided by a river on the continents of Almaris and Aevos, became unified under the reigns of Queen Catherine of the Petra and King John of Aaun. After years of integrating the provinces of Petra and Aaun have we, the denizens of our shared realm, contributed to our fair portion of traveling great distances to support one another. Despite harmony that the Heartlander Confederation provides, a most notable difference has come from stemming traditions that have spun for nearly a century. It is no easy feat to spin straw into gold and merge traditions and ideas for a collective mindset that will weave tapestries for our descendants to see. Proclaiming it so on the eve of the tenth anniversary of its creation, the HEARTLANDIC UNITY FESTIVAL will be hosted in the forthcoming year of 1983. An opportunity to bridge the gap of knowledge on Aaunic or Petran customs, courtiers are invited to participate in activities hosted by vassals and individuals alike that will not only engage, but educate. The sharing of wine, playing of games, dancing of music. By the end of the festivities it is highly encouraged that one writes a note on what they learnt about the other province that they do not hail from. ISSUED AND PROCLAIMED; By the Paradisian Court, On the 4th of Sigismund's End, 1982. His Royal and Apostolic Majesty, CHARLES II, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margrave of High Peak, Count of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baron of Blanchet, Gotfridcher and Virdain, Protector of the Realm. Her Royal Majesty, ADALIA I, Queen of the Petra, Princess of Abrana, Marquise de Val d’Estenou, Duchess of Valfleur, Countess of Temesch, Torm Marian, and Moere, Viscountess of Mies, Baroness of Garmont, Vallagne-en-Petra, Eagles Peak, Brasca, Hrenthorne, Resmore, and of the Phoenixspire. Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet, Gotfridcher and Virdain. His Royal Highness, JOHN VALENTINUS OF AAUN, Lord Chamberlain of the Paradisian Court

A mother, taken to private life since the ascension of her husband on the Paradisian throne, lurked. Hushed dismissals in the dark, of a Queen slipping in and wet nurse bowing out. Her royal babes lay asleep, basked in moonlight as she entered. A regular occurance it had become for Hedwig to spend her evenings in the nursery during time away from her duties, observing their slumber from the corner of the room. Before she sat herself tonight did she wander with piqued interest towards the countertops, with leftover miscelllous items the wet nurse and her handmaidens sported now after the births. Wooden toys and blankets, ceramic dolls and bottles of oil. Nothing was new, until the tabletop ended at the window. Three handkercheifs. Her hand went to graze the cloth gently, to not frey the fabric. When she was expecting Godwin, Hedwig had commissioned her talented palace staff to weave an illustrious tapestry to hang over the wall of one of the parlours in the Hand. Of birds, parading in the foilage, free and wild from the castle upon the hill behind. It was not finished yet, for the artisans' talents could dare not be rushed, but as her fingers smoothed over the workings of the needle upon the cloths could she only marvel at their craftsmanship. The dragonic sigils, like the one she bore on her wedding ring. She smiled. The one she held was clearly for the upcoming Lord of Alba, and so she put it down to inspect the other two. Helen's, an image of a Johannian princess. Yet as the last one was visible to Hedwig's naked eye did she, then, inhale deeply. That eye, the blasted eye. Her prayers had not been answered this time to the Lord, for he still cursed Charles and her's line with the blood of the unruly kingslayers. Over the years she had grown to detest ts very existence, brought up in the courts of gossipmongers who spun tales from straw into gold. It had been known that her Cecily was born with its wretched nature, yet in the moment did the Queen-consort wish it hadn't. A sick joke to them, was it? To mock her daughter? To continue the spin of lies, of tainted bloodlines. She balled the handkercheif into a fist, the one-eyed dragon scrunched in on itself. That night did she not disturb her children any longer, for Hedwig of Warsovia spent the hours dwelling on the past, and dreading the future.

Once more has the King and Queen-consort of Aaun been elated with the growth of their family after the forthcomings of the Lord of Alba. The 6th of Godfrey’s Triumph in the year of Our Lord 1982 saw the witnessing of a girl, born in the quietude of the night. The Princess of Aaun has been named CECILY AMELIA ALSTION (@Axelu). After a further look, the Royal Physician concluded that she bore a clouded right eye. To the surprise of all present in the royal chambers, another baby was delivered exactly seventeen minutes upon the first’s arrival; another girl. CHARLOTTE AURELIA ALSTION (@esotericas) is the name that Their Apostolic Majesties gave her, with striking resemblance to King Charles II and a peaceful temperment. Despite the successful nature of the birth for both mother and twin princesses, Queen-consort Hedwig of Warsovia has chosen to remain out of the public eye for the next few months. We pray to GOD for the swiftness in her recovery, and the good health and blessed future of the babies as beacons of Aaun. WRITTEN AND PROCLAIMED; In the Hand of Horen at Whitespire, On the 10th of Godfrey’s Triumph, 1982. His Royal and Apostolic Majesty, CHARLES II, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margrave of High Peak, Count of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baron of Blanchet, Gotfridcher and Virdain, Protector of the Realm. Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet, Gotfridcher and Virdain

Unable to make the debut of the young Lord, the Queen-consort of Aaun HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA immediately began to writing her apologies in a letter. Only later did she comment on the matter to her Mistress of the Robes, LUCIA. "Forgiveness is the only thing I can ask for with my absence, though they must put their efforts tendfold into Lord Konstantin's presence at my gathering. Though I will be no witness to his formal debut, all eyes shall be on him in the Hand." @Fie

In the usual manner of the day-to-day runnings of the Crown, the courier pigeon (she had put Frank in retirement long ago) delivered envelopes of news to HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA. The balcony by her office saw nearly a dozen letters tossed to its floor, with mumbles such as 'useless advertisements'; until one. She was aware of HELENE-OLYMPE VALFLEUR's upcoming debut due to the blessings she gave the girl, unable to hide her smile at the invitation. "It is a shame that I will have to leave halfway in between, but one's presence will grace the grandeur of this budding meadow. I could not, even with my abrupt exit, miss such an ocassion." After did the Queen-consort go forth to arrange a gift for the young debutante, recalling the recent language of the flowers that had been composed.

In the time of union between the Petran and Aaunic populace alike, the Queen-consort of Aaun has taken a particular interest in the aspiring young members of society. Each one of them has shown potential in the greatest of scales, through their actions or based off of observation. As the dawn of the new generation is spotted upon the horizon, it is now more than ever that they should be nurtured like the growing buds they are. Cordially invited are those on the list of invitations to present themselves forward to Her Apostolic Majesty, Hedwig of Warsovia, at the Hand of Horen. In front of a private audience they will address those present with a formal introduction, before talking about their forthcoming debuts and hopes for the future. After, they are to present onto the cohort a chosen talent to perform. A buffet will be made, courtesy of the palace cooks. The goal of which this gathering aims for, is the assistance of the young lords and ladies’ in their future pursuits. It is considered a great privilege to be recognised for one’s efforts in society, so those invited must prepare their best outfits. The listed individuals: His Lordship, LOUIS-CASPIAN DE ROSIUS, Baron of Rosius @rep2k Lady JOHANNA VON ALSTREIM, Countess of Whisperwood @cherrybud Lady REINHILDE VON ALSTREIM of Merryweather @Tourning Lord KONSTANTIN VON AUGUSTEN of Hohengarten @FireAGN Lord MARSILIUS VON AUGUSTEN of Hohengarten @Chorale__ Lady ELSIE VON AUGUSTEN of Hohengarten @Frank_Dog Lady ISABEAU-KARINE ROSIUS of Rosius @ydegirl Lady DÉSIRÉE-PRAXEDE ROSIUS of Rosius Lady WINIFRED HALCOURT of Artois @Orphvius Lord LAURENS HALCOURT of Artois @CanadaMatt Lady HELENE-OLYMPE VALFLEUR of Valfleur @thisuserisok Lady MARGARETHE COLBORN of Malkovya @Kholibrii Lady CARICE FALKNER of Brabant @Lirinya Mister ASAD @Hom If anyone else wishes to attend, who follows in-line with being aged eleven to twenty, may send a letter to Queen Hedwig of Warsovia within three saint days of the publication of this invitation. WRITTEN AND PROCLAIMED; In the Hand of Horen at Whitespire, On the 7th of Harren's Folly, 1981. Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet and Virdain

The aforementioned Queen HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA raised a brow. Expecting the comment to be negative upon her first reading, oddly she was surprised as she trailed towards the end of the segment. "She must like me, this one." She commented towards her dear husband, CHARLES II, on the eve of the missive's arrival. "Look at how my character was not questioned? No ill speculation? I will keep that in mind when I solve who it is." @Olox_

Upon the joyous day of the 12th of Horen’s Calling 1980, the Royal Household of Alstion was blessed with the continuation of the royal line of succession. A boy in good health was delivered by the Royal Physician, who upon his arrival cried out a great shriek that could be heard throughout the Hand of Horen. Their Apostolic Majesties, much to their delight, have bestowed the name GODWIN LEOPOLD ALSTION (@Balthasar) onto their son, as an ode to Saint Godwin; son of Exalted Horen, and the first King of Aaun. With such a name comes future responsibilities, for the Lord of Alba will be one half to the unification of the Heartlands as heir to his father, King Charles II. In honour of his miraculous birth, dubbed to be Saint Calliope’s doing through the Queen-consort’s devotion to worship, and recognition of her actions against the Franks, a monastery will be erected within the Region of the Franklands, where the Grand Principality of Minitz once stood. May GOD bring forth his blessing in times of great prosperity to House Alstion, and watch over young Prince Godwin Leopold of Aaun in his future endeavours. WRITTEN AND PROCLAIMED; In the Hand of Horen at Whitespire, On the 3rd of Owyn’s Flame, 1981. His Royal and Apostolic Majesty, CHARLES II, King of Aaun, Prince of Alstion, Duke of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margrave of High Peak, Count of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baron of Blanchet and Virdain, Protector of the Realm Her Royal and Apostolic Majesty, HEDWIG OF WARSOVIA, Queen-consort of Aaun, Princess-consort of Alstion, Duchess-consort of Vienne, the Lowlands, Balemena and Corazon, Margravine-consort of High Peak, Countess-consort of Whitespire, Enswerp, Florentine and Talentine, Baroness-consort of Blanchet and Virdain AS WITNESSED AND CONFIRMED BY; His Eminence, JEAN CARDINAL ST. GODWIN, Bishop St. Godwin

what is your favourite piece of winnie the pooh merchandise you own?

Ulrichsburg’s crypts found themselves occupied once more with the company of the living, as opposed to its usual residents of the dead. Incense fogged the confinements of the stone walls, in the shadows casting ghosts of those laid to rest. Alas, there was only one figure that held permanence amidst the smoke appearing in all-black. Eyes closed; pursed lips. Only the light of her fingers, engulfed by her veil, were visible. Knuckles bled white with some great grip upon the Lorraine cross around her neck. Since the death of King John of Aaun, Hedwig of Warsovia’s mourning time was spent in deep prayer. Her devotion had sailed long before then, though in a time of such turbulence did the Lord bring great comforts. However, it was not her royal father-in-law she prayed for tonight. Rather, for a blessing. Infertility had plagued her marriage, sprouting internal chaos within her; doubts of her duties and obligations, of not only as a wife but the continuation of the royal bloodline. Have faith, her husband constantly told her. Yet his father never met his grandchildren. Their conversation in the Chapel of Our Lady Paradisius remained a constant loop in her mind, starting with her pilgrimage of Saint Julia. Engrossed in the Aldtree of Petra and Julia’s maternal love for nature, as well as being the patron saint for wives and mothers, Hedwig made use of her time to take a few months away. Her role as Lady of Alba was to be Charles’ support, but the pressure of an heir as John fell sick could not be shaken off. The pilgrimage did not help much in the end. She had felt more restless than when she began. Saint Calliope had been canonised as her struggles worsened with a mix of low self-esteem. Given she was laid to rest in the crypts by her homelands, the then-Crown Princess-consort ventured there often. Flowers, incense, candles with prayers murmured in a low hum. The more she stayed, the more she yearned. The envy that tried to fester from her sister Alice’s first child was swallowed down by days of fasting and sleepless nights. An obsessive need for relatability, for comfort, came from the cold tomb. She could not explain it to anyone. This night was no different, for Hedwig had drifted asleep in the mist following another one of her prayers. Off she went, before the crack of dawn, on a venture out. Her nose was red as the dewdrops barely melted into the grass when skidding down the hillside. The bottom of her nightgown was caked in mud. A dream. Recalling the times of bird-men and nymphs had now turned into aimless walks in the country air. Growing up; she reasoned for the change. Making her way down, Hedwig reached the foot of the hill. Mountainsides spurted from all corners of her view, with trees asunder. The landscape was a fragment from the paintings she grew up with at Nowa Warsovia, of the old Heartlandic home of her ancestors; Arentania, Almaris. Barefoot did she walk to gather her bearings, with no source of light in the darkness. Only the pale moon illuminated Hedwig’s feet distinctively from the pathway she found herself on, dodging awry the thistles. Her pathway was steep, and her legs could no longer keep up at the rate they were going. In truth, there was no way she could know where she was going. The urge to explore the world she inhabited in her slumber was inviting, and so Hedwig accepted it each time. That, knowingly, meant that she ended up lost and tonight would be the same. Onwards did she go, until a gurgle broke the silence of the night. Low and guttural, almost like a rattle. Hedwig of Warsovia peeked around fearfully, for her moment of peace had been crushed. Careful, she was trying not to make a sound. The leaves crunched in quiet unison as if they had heard her pleads, treading lightly. What if it were some wild beast? Was her initial thought, her face resembling the colour of the moon. And if it were something else, Hedwig was doomed. The sound became louder and louder as she came towards the edge of the treeline. Then, it stopped. Bewildered, Hedwig stalked around the shrubbery. In a bed of grass was a babe, bound tightly in a blanket. Its cries had stopped only for a few moments before continuing. Instinctively she lowered her arms to scoop the swaddled cloth and held it to her chest, before looking down. The boy, from what she could tell, did not bear a scratch or bruise. Instead, he was sound asleep now after his belts. It was as if the sense of her being gave him great comfort, though only she speculated such. A hand went to cradle his head softly. The rustling of the bushes made Hedwig pull the baby closer, and her head snapped in the direction it came from. A figure had been lurking, and upon being spotted began to bolt towards the mountain. “Wait! Don’t run away!” Hedwig of Warsovia called out, picking up her pace in the direction the figure ran off in. “ Is this child yours? Did you leave him?” She could barely keep up in her nightdress, let alone with the baby in her arms. Ducking and dodging, leaping and jogging. Up the bind and around the ledge. The Queen-consort could barely keep up, until she came to an abrupt stop. Looking up was the figure, now looming over her above the cliff. With a fiery mane of red for hair and eyes of grey, the woman did not speak. She did not smile. Rather, a dip of her head; acknowledgement. Within their brief encounter was there a sense of… familiarity? Hedwig’s heart thumped. It was the colour of her hair, the way it reminded her of her youth by the Langkette mountains. The blossoms on the trees, the stark red of her uncle Waclaw, which upon realising, was an Alstreim trait by blood. Slowly, but surely, the realisation crept upon her. __________________ The Queen-consort gasped harshly when she awoke, only to find herself in the royal chambers of the Hand. The blankets swallowed her body like the same fog in hallucinations. Behind the doorway — Charles’ low hum as he spoke, the muffled response of what appeared to be someone she did not recognise. Whether a dream or reality, she could only grasp the aching feeling at the pit of her stomach. She held her hand there to ease the pain, gripping the cloth of her dress tightly. It was a deep, real pain that gnawed on the core of her soul. A desperate seeking of fulfilment, longing for something more. The door creaked open, and in came the King of Aaun; her husband, draped still in his mourning attire. He found himself a companion with the eye bags that sunk deeper with each passing day after his father’s death. The proceedings of the month that followed were rough for the new monarch, but he managed to slip between the cracks every now-and-then for time away. Charles made his way towards the edge of the bed and sat himself down. “How do you fare, dear wife?” Her reply was only faint.. “I am unsure, to be honest. I feel dazed.” His eyes appeared a striking colour of mercury in the candlelight as he edged closer carefully. It was only now did the Aaunic king find himself stirring, and Hedwig could only tilt her head with furrowed brows. “Is something the matter?” She asked him, sitting up. “What happened?” “You do not remember?” Her husband replied. “You had given us all an awful fright! I found you unconscious in Ulrichsburg, and called upon the Royal Physician immediately.” Charles fully embraced her now, holding her hands tightly. “He says you are with child, Hedwig. It’s— it’s a miracle.” “With child? A miracle?” “You have been praying to Saint Calliope, have you not? Devoting yourself to prayer and fast? I have witnessed it myself, dear wife.” The Alstion monarch gripped her hands even tighter. “The Lord has granted us an heir. Years and years of faith, and we have been shown worthy.” Hedwig of Warsovia was in disbelief, for what was anything else compared to a child? There was a certainty to it, a lifelong wish, of having a family of her own that she lacked in her childhood. The moment that she realised it might not be feasible after her wedding night, she was shattered. Things had changed then, appearing fixed, but now the state of her situation had completely flipped. What was impossible before became real. There was to be an heir for Charles, a continuation of his prestigious line. For her? A blessing and proof of her successes. Tetherable to her, growing. Deep within her worship was their miracle. Her eyes pricked with tears as she wiped them away with her sleeves, before kissing the back of Charles’ hands. “It must be, it must. For I dreamt of finding a child in Saint Calliope’s company, and now do we suffer with our strive no longer. She, and God, has bestowed this upon us. It is the only way.” In the tender night did their Majesties speak on Hedwig’s dream, in the hopes that they could wrap their heads around the intricacies of this mystery, and the hope it sprouted.