"Ç (either Se-di-la or Se-di-lya), I am glad to see you in good welfare!" as I entail with her a big hug.
"I mean aunt. It is good to see you!" adding, as I rectify my previous statement.
"Oh, don't sweat the details! Young man, your mother awaits your arrival." she says, informing me about the wellness of my mother.
I had rough days in the seas. Storms, pirates, Inglovians, and ludicrous things I wish to explain. I am not adventurous, I seek voyage to engage in the ventures of diplomacy and politics. The Inglovians are too complacent for us to prepare. They are maybe building an armada to expunge us once and for all. But all of that is just a sense of wishful thinking, it may befall upon us but 'break a leg'! I dare him to launch an audacious assault towards Kehina. Goodbye to your coffer, Grand Emperor Llewellyn. What an ambitious take to destroy us out. Intimidating but not efficient. The Kehinans and their spirit could withstand any sorts of aggression. Inglovia is the undisputed powerhouse, the sole titan, and the staple dominant reckoning force.
"Mother! Mother Allydia, how I miss you!" I greet my mother with a vibrant mood, as I approach and encompass her with a tight embrace.
"So, mother. What fancies you up until then?" concluding, as I ask about her future venture.
My aunt is running the business as the matrician of this country - Haganalopolis. She is Serene Dogressa Ç of the House of Hagan. I suppose the enterprise is doing so well lately. She is in the age where she is being dwindled by the deterioration of her hormones. Based upon her appearance, her age deems to be in her late-thirty's (30's) but her real age is in the approximate age of a hundred and fifty years. Well, talk about the longevity of an elven lineage. My father is nowhere to be found, I want to hit his head for his abdication of the throne. Passing the crown of Geoffshire to me which I outrightly relay it to my son. My old man's whereabouts suggests that he is having his retirement in Inglovia. Of course, with the wealth he has and the passive income accumulated by the business enterprise, he will spend it lavishly fishing women once more.
My aunt Ç is given the rights to rule Haganalopolis when my father has stepped down thereafter. Owing to the position she got, on a monthly basis, she delivers an allowance to my father. I get the point my father retires so soon, he lost his zest in making money for the nation, and especially, for his family. I would assume that there is always be an heir. An inheritor to succeed him. He is in the age of seventy's, I don't know the exact numbers of it but I do aware that he is old. Our emissaries claim that the former patrician of Haganalopolis is still breathing. With a speck of humor on it. And some good news I've found, according to the missives stored in the confidential room. My old man, he has cuckooed several women of the nobilities and renowned families. Yeah, a typical trait of my father and as I am not even baffled and flabbergasted.
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"Well, I like living here. Taking care of your son is giving me so much fun." smiling, she says in a sincere manner.
I smile back at her as a response, as I inquire: "So, mother. What makes you stay here? Don't you want to follow my father?" yet again. Getting her attention once more.
"It may set and cause so much setback if I am with Lord Rayl. So, I have decided the old goof will do his things, do what he wants, or frolic around as long as he won't be killing himself." she replies jokingly.
"Uh-huh?" I scoff in an accident.
"What's the matter, Geoff, my son?" she reacts.
"I mean… does your affection for him is losing its kindle?" I inquire, moreover, to find the answer.
"You know, my son, he is my coup de foudre. I will always be yearning for his presence. At least, let him take his time and as for now, there is always a home awaiting for his arrival." she smiles, where the concreteness of her sentiment is unwavering.
I had so much fun talking to my mother again. I leave her in her chamber. Letting myself be an inconvenience to my mother is a pleasure itself. I just come home not to prance and to dawdle. I visit my aunt once more afterwards to discuss something aside from being myself in here. In her working chamber, I tread. A gentleman's rule-of-thumb is to know one's presence from a divider is to knock. Knock. Knock. I meet her secretary when I am hanging my hand to the knob. And another unspoken stipulation of a gentleman, when initiating a conversation, one should offer a gesture. A beckoning like genuflection, a simple head bop, or what commonly used standard - a handshake. He approves of my gesture so he grabs my exposed hand. He states that his name is Quexajo (Ke-ha-ho). He opens the door for me to enter. I say: "Thank you." giving him gratitude for his action. Finally, some interesting fellow rekindling some time. Ah, those memories!
"Auntie, I have a favor." in a confident tone, I implore.
I am about to confront her on her desk which she bestows for me to take a seat, as she replies: "What is this request that you are referring to, my adorable nephew?" a grin from ear to ear is what I've met.
"It is nice to see you, Serene Dogressa. Aunt Ç, I am in need of an army. Boats, money, and all sorts of what you can provide. Of course, money can not be omitted from what I've demanded." as I give salutations first, going straight down to business where I propose an exorbitant ultimatum.
She smirks at me at the moment, I don't know if she is trying to mock me or whatnot. I have to put up with some consideration, whatsoever. I maintain my stand to get some help as I can. We are of the same origin of our agnatic lineage but I require to regulate myself not to tarnish my reputation and remark as a diplomat. She nods in agreement. Whereby providing me with a trove full of glistening coins, a signature of her penmanship (just to make sure, a stamp of her legalization authority) for the mobilization, and a kiss mark pasted on a sheet of scroll. The missive represents for the weapons, a band mixture of mercenaries, levies, and five percent (5%) of Haganalopolis' retinue - the standing army of the nation. The papyrus with a kiss mark on it is the procurement of boats and an attaché mission of one of Haganalopolis' admiral - her secretary himself, Quexajo. And as for the trove, it is pretty self-explanatory.
"Thank you, Auntie Ç."