The Coronation's FQA

The Coronation's FQA:
by Random, soon-to-be King.

1: A major exercise in bladder control, the coronation is organized as follows:

A: The arriving of the people, and the excited milling around
B: The arriving of the nobles and ambassadors, and the dignified milling (around)
3: The arriving of the royal family and the bored milling (around)
4: The arriving of the King/Queen/Prince and the swooning, reeling, writhing, and fainting in coils.
5: The vague promises and reminders of past prosperity
6: The coronation. Note: Crowns, not cornets. V. thought cornets bad idea. Not musical.
7: The meaningless platitudes and intimations of future security and stability
8: The giving (by you) and receiving (by us) of oaths of allegiance. Again. Really, the point of this thing is to do this in front of me and everyone, so we've got to. Winter will send you all copies of the oath. It's crufty, but serviceable.
9: The standing by and watching while everybody else does the same. In order of precedence.

2: Precedence. Who comes first, except in a stuffy way.

3: Martin, Benedict, Corwin, Caine, Fiona, Bleys, Llewella, Floramel, Julian, Gerard, Reid, Lilly, Aisling, Cambina, Jerod, Merlin, Marius, Conner, Brita, Paige, Brennan, Lucas et. al, Jovian, Robin, Solange, Vere, Ossian, Folly, Dukes and Duchesses, Counts, Countesses and Earls, Marquesses and Marquessites, Barons, Baronesses, and Life Peers. Knights, new Knights and nobles, Representatives of the peepul, chosen for their peepul-ness, and/or importance to the realm.

D: The blessing of the fleet.

E: Then you better get me the list pretty quickly, don't you think?

VI: Queen Vialle will be in charge until I get back. She may set up a Queen's council. Or she may rule with a despotic hand. Either way, it'll be interesting.

VII: A coronation masquerade. In the grand ballroom, with the candlestick.

Robin breathes a sigh of relief when she reads that order. Though she has to chuckle at her and Solange's proximity regardless.

Jerod reads over the last notation, making a mental smirk. Actually, it was Uncle Caine, in Uncle Corwin's room, with the dagger.

Reid's thoughts, in no particular order:

Damn, upstaged by the wheelchair guy!

Ok, I count 11 deaths that need to happen before I get the throne...

Brita sets the order in her mind, noting where her mother falls and that she, herself, is after Conner.

Brita quirks a brow. One candlestick? It is going to be rather dark.....

Ossian makes a mental note to stay close to Lucas. Hopefully there will be some snide comments to liven up this probably dreadfully boring event. (The correctness of the order of precedence is a bad sign)

The corner of Jovian's mouth twists in wry satisfaction. Twenty-four places ahead of him. Not only will he get a nice opportunity to see how this custom is supposed to work, but everyone will be good and bored by his turn, so minor slips will be missed. And with that many in line ahead of him, there will be no reason to suspect him of plotting anything in the future.

To Random I, Proto-Rex Amberica, Greenthings:

As I mentioned to his Highness your son [Jovian chuckles here at the pun only he and Lucas will understand], there are certain abilities that Canareth and I possess, that may be of immediate use to you. The capacity I speak of has both useful and dangerous potential, and should probably be regarded as a State Secret.

If you can find a moment to confer with me privately before you depart, I will brief you fully.

Your servant,

Jovian, bronze Canareth's rider, KCOR

Jo,

Can dragons fly in the dark?

R.

R:

That's just it - they can do things in and through the Dark that I don't trust to paper. Seriously. Squeeze me in for four minutes, 52 seconds before you go.

- J&C

Send a page to me when you're free tonight. I wanna fly.

R.

[OOC: Help! Mark lacks Jovian's zero-point; I don't know when we are! What day are we on?]

The note went out on the day of the memorial service. It was more of a clarifier for most people. So this must be in the middle of the night after Jovian gets back from poker and whatever.

Aisling sends a quick note in reply (and it's gasp informal, qv:)

"Get back?" Where are you going? And for how long? And how can I help?

Yours,
Aisling

A note is promptly returned to Aisling

Sir/Dame Aisling, KCOR
Castle Amber

exactly, I don't know, I don't know, I don't think you can, but thanks for asking.

King (soon) R.

Aisling is somewhat warmed by his attention. She thinks about his note in general for a bit, concerned. Then she thinks about whether she should ask him. Then she decides that he does seem to wish to be the kind of person who is asked questions of import to other people; and then she thinks about how to ask it for a bit, so as to not be so blunt as to poorly repay his kind answer, and then she reaches for her inkstone and brush again and writes out another note:

Dear soon-King Random,

Is it by your will?

Yours,
Aisling (Dame, KCOR)

yes and no, more or less, and I've got this bet covered.

Mine,
Random (King, Amber)

On the one hand, Brennan thinks, this is an instant collector's item. Two or three thousand years from now, after Random has been blunted down by centuries in office, no one then living except the presently living members of the Royal Family will believe he wrote this.

Into the archives it goes.

On the other hand, either Brennan or Random may be barking mad. He collects his thoughts for a moment, then pens a response:

Your Majesty,

Have you completely taken leave of your senses?

With warmest regards and concern for your mental health,
Brennan.

Hmm. No. Perhaps a bit too quickly to the point. He burns that one, and starts again.

King Random,

Would it really spoil the fun that much to let one or two of us in on the game plan? Who knows, we might be able to help.

Brennan, KCOR.

Much better. Dignified, restrained, yet with that sense of the absurd His Majesty often requires. Perhaps also not treasonous. He sends a page scampering with that one. He promises the kid a month's salary if he actually puts it in Random's hand and manages to get a reply while he waits.

The page returns promptly. "He seemed very cheerful, Sir."

Sir Brennan, KCOR,
Castle Amber

Yes.

King (soon) R.

Brennan looks up from the message at the young page and says carefully, "Yes, I expect he did. Go find Icicle," Brennan's secretary, "And say you've earned your pay. If His Majesty wants his cut, he can collect that from me."

After the page retreats, he puts his copy of what he sent, and Random's reply, in storage along with the others.

"Schmuck," he mutters under his breath, without heat.

Lilly takes several moments to pen the list of names as she remembers them. (Lilly should be fairly good at recalling this information provided it was openly discussed.) She then makes several copies of the list, on for each of her fellow Knight Commanders. The lists are then enclosed with a letter. They all read as follows:

(Insert appropriate name here),

Here is the list of Knight candidates as I remember it from our discussions. I just wanted to ensure that I had not missed anyone before sending a copy to the King. Beyond that I think everything is in order. If anyone needs anything from me please let me know. It looks as if I may be a bit busier fulfilling my role as swordswoman in waiting after the coronation and may not be available as much as I would like for KCOR business.

Best Regards,
Lilly

In addition Lilly quickly pens a post script on the letter intended for Brennan:

PS. Two quick things that I only feel comfortable asking either you or Paige.

First... "VII: A coronation masquerade. In the grand ballroom, with the candlestick." I know there must be a reference here I am missing. Is it something that will be important?

Second... Can I safely assume the soon to be Kings numbering system reflects his sense of humor and not any true system?

[[ I'd've thought we'd've gotten him a preliminary list before this, everyone who wasn't Jovian's.... ]]

Aisling sends back the note:

I believe that is correct.

-Aisling

Each of you receives a note from Gilt Winter, secretary to Random, after you all get Random's note.

Dear [name],

His Majesty has asked me to provide you with a copy of the traditional oath so that you may be familiar with it before the ceremony.

The oath to the King is traditionally thus:

I, [name and parentage], do swear that I will be faithful to you and bear you true allegiance, obeying your commands from this hour forward until my death or until the world ends.

His Majesty will also take the traditional return oath as part of the ceremony.

Should you have any questions, please contact me.

Yours,
Gilt Winter
Secretary to King Random

How long is the exile if you call in sick?

Erm. Nevermind. Marius THINKS it, but won't put pen to paper on it.

After reading this, one message goes out to Gilt Winter, asking him to provide a copy of the return oath that Random would reply with.

Jerod is familiar with the historical oath and its return form as described here.

Eric used the same formulation for oathtaking.

Then, Jerod goes out and finds Nestor to put a question to him.

"Based on the oath that is provided for pledging loyalty to the king, is there any information or historical data regarding what might be considered as marking the end of the world?" Jerod asks.

Nestor says, "I'll have to look into that. As far as I know, however, there has never been an attempt, successful or otherwise, to invoke that clause to terminate the oath and its obligations."

"I'm rather more curious as to whether it was actually defined." Jerod says. "I'm not figuring anyone's ever tried to invoke it."

"I don't know why you'd define it unless you meant to invoke it," says Nestor. "I've never heard of such a definition, but I'll look for you."

"Thank you."