The Royal Palace, The Royal Britannian Isles
Please try to be still Your Highness.” My personal maid Elicia begs me. She was a thin girl, with twin brown braids, symmetrical systems of freckles, big glasses and a smile that somehow managed to look cute and crazed at the same time.
“You know how I hate these occasions. Besides, is Lord William’s son even interested in women?” I ask with a deadpan tone, Elicia barely contains her laughter.
“Don’t be so cruel! I’m sure he is very interested in women besides his mother.” Elicia sneezed the last part out.
I snickered, “Fine, I’ll hold still.” I settle into the seat as Elicia unravels the combs and tangles in my hair. I look in the mirror, and I can hardly believe the perfect girl staring back was me. Hair that shone almost gold, a perfectly unscared face, and silky delicate skin.
The only thing that marked her as me was her eyes. Unlike the others in my family, I inherited my mothers golden eyes, rather than my father’s deep sea blue ones.
“You’ve been to the library more than usual.” Elicia said at last, “Are you bothered about something?”
I looked up and sighed, “My father still won’t let me go to Faywood.”
“Faywood? Why not?” Faywood was the most prestigious War Academy in the world. Simply being on campus was an honor, and - unlike most of the country - everyone there was well paid, even the janitors. It was often joked that a day’s work at Faywood was worth a year’s worth of factory work in the colonies.
But what made it famous was it’s unique way of educating students on tactics and war. Every year, they headed to where Britannia was making it’s latest conquest or fighting it’s latest war. It helped keep the students open minded and in-touch with reality.
Supposedly.
“It’s ‘not appropriate for my station’,” I said bitterly, “Damn sexist, wish I could just shove my boot up his skinny arse-”
“Your highness!” My maid repremaided me.
I cleared my throat, “Sorry, I lost myself for a second there.” I inhaled, forcing my Highland accent down. “Anyway, what dresses do you have?”
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The Emperor of Britannia was hardly what you’d expect from the leader of a country. He wasn’t vivacious or fierce, but he wasn’t overweight either. In fact, most find him to be more of a beanpole. A librarian rather than a king.
Which was also what he wanted for himself, but generations of ‘keeping the bloodline pure’ (or - according to more brutally honest sources - glorified inbreeding) had resulted in sickly siblings that had perished before their twelfth birthday, leaving the diminutive Camden Britannia - now Gerald XI - as the sole heir to the throne.
He adjusted his glasses as he looked down on a sheet of paper. “What...exactly am I looking at?”
“Demands. Sir, from the Britannian League of Social Reform.” His public relations minister stated. The minister looked exhausted and aged, which was no surprise considering he had to deal with every grievance the public had before he could actually pass it to the Parliament or Emperor
“I thought this was dealt with? We gave them suffrage didn’t they?”
“They believe our guidelines to be unfair,” A man with a powdered wig and thinning grey beard stood up, “ and they’re gaining power within parliament. Many of the Highlander lords have stated their support for the movement. They may plan to vote me out in a vote of no confidence,”
“Your fears are unfounded, Prime Minister.” Gerald said dismissively, the Prime Minister was always fearing that he’d be ousted one day. Despite the fact his position was safeguarded by centuries of institutionalization. A no-confidence vote hadn’t been held in almost one hundred years.
“Excuse me sir.” A man with a short curling moustache stood, “I have an idea,”
“Go ahead?” Gerald said, ‘As long as it doesn’t involve shooting anyone, Marshal Halden.’ He thought. Field Marshal Halden Roderiez - a half britannian, half hispaniolan - was the current Chief of General Staff of the Britannian Army, effectively making him second to the emperor when it came to the emperor. He was also notoriously fiery. And while he was excellent on the battlefield, his violent solutions to everything weren’t so great off the battlefield.
“Allow female students into Faywood.”
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
At first, a dead silence, this was so radical that it could uproot centuries of tradition. Allowing women into Faywood would signal change. And if there was anything that the nobility hated more, it was change.
The Prime Minister erupted, “Nonsense! Absolute bollocks! That threatens the very institution-”
“It will give them a victory they oh-so-want,” Roderiez shrugged
“We’ll be viewed as giving in to them!” The finance minister yelled. Finance Minister Cal was the definition of spoiled nobility. A fat, priggish man (although from an outsider’s perspective, that was the definition of almost every noble in the room) he’d likely embezzled more funds during his tenure than Western Pirates and Gangsters could ever hope to.
Not like Gerald could prove it.
“The Chief of Staff has a point.” The PR minister stated, “We concede now to prevent a bigger problem in the future.”
“And I’m not suggesting we throw the doors open right away.” The Chief of Staff explained, “Only allow a few, as a trial run. If they fail, then we’ve proved ourselves right.”
“And if they manage to make it through the year? We’ll be cornered, we’ll have no choice but to allow more female students.”
“I’ve decided.” Gerald stood. “We’ll allow female students, I see it as a win either way.”
“Your highness?” The Prime Minister said confusedly, “You- You’re not actually suggesting that we allow this.”
“I am.” Gerald said simply, “If we don’t concede now, we’ll face more drastic consequences in the future. Not to mention we have the same families going there every year, there’s a reason we lost the Maple War with the Federation. We’re bloating our leaders with the same sense of bloated entitlement that leads to defeat after defeat.”
The Prime Minister huffed, he had no response other than: “Very well. I shall accept this concession.”
Unknown to the others, there was another, more personal reason Gerald had decided to accept this idea.
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In the end, I had settled on a beautifully adorned white dress, but not too fancy or long either. In fact, it was a rich version of the average bodycon dress.
“About as minimalist as allowed. Any more and you’d look well…”
“Basic and poor?”
“Yes.” Elicia agreed for lack of a better phrase.
“Well...I better get going then.” I stood, my dress glinting in the light. “I want to shut this one down quickly.”
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I walked into the dining room, and took stock of my situation. Sitting at the head was Lord William Scotsford, a prominent Lord from the southern Wallian region of Britannia. To the right of him was Lady Katerina Scotsford, a Slaviatic noblewoman by birth who’d married into the family, and then on the left was their son, Dante Rosimov Scotsford, who - to quote Angelica’s thoughts - looked inbred as hell. His chin was abnormally sharp and his hair was an unsalvageable mess.
Nonetheless, not one of these thoughts made it into the open as I sat down politely, dignified, like a princess.
“Will his Imperial Majesty not be joining us?” Katerina asked, her Slaviat accent making me feel like this woman actually had some depth to her. Which was all to rare in the shifting court of nobles, they could conive and plan, but at the end of the day, when you unravelled all the layers of irony and deception, they were all the same.
“He will be along shortly.” I nodded,
“My son will be a very fine choice.” There was no need to say what for, “He’s attending Faywood this upcoming year in fact.”
‘So is half of the English aristocracy, your son isn’t unique.’ I thought.
Soon enough, a squadron of guards entered the room and lined up along the walls, heralding my fathers arrival. Sure enough, he arrived in a regal tuxedo and sat down.
“Lord Scotsford. Lady Scotsford.” My father addressed them with a nod,
“Ah, Your Majesty, we were just talking about how Dante is attending Faywood.”
“Yes. I’d actually like to talk about that. There has just been a major change in policy to allow women to attend the school.”
The entire room immediately fell silent. Lady Scotsford smiled to herself, Lord William dropped his spoon, Dante looked equally surprised as his father, I burst into a massive smile.
“-and I plan for my daughter to be among the first female attendees.”
My smile got even wider, if I smiled any more I'm sure my face would've torn and I would've looked like a victim of Kenneth the Ripper.
“B-but what about the successor to the throne? She’s the first born, there needs to be an Emperor!”
“Or Empress.” Gerald said, “Anyway, we can worry about that once she returns from her tenure.”
Lord William blustered with various profanities until storming out. Dante followed his father out like a dog trailing it’s owner. Katerina curtsied at the princess, and said to me, “I wish you a wonderful school year.” and followed her husband out.
I turned to him, “Why the sudden change of heart?”
“Well, the League for Reform finally made such a fuss we had no choice but to give in to them.” My father sighed,
“So...it’s just a political move?” My face fell, 'I thought I finally got through to him.'
“That, and I want you to finally shut up about it.” My father said lightheartedly,
I smiled, “See. I knew I’d win out in the end.” I was cheering internally, I couldn't wait to leave this cage of a palace.
He groaned, “You leave next week.”