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Your Humble Servant...
Topic Started: Mar 7 2015, 09:28 PM (107 Views)
Saros
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Summer Country Palace
Zastava Province, Zaliviya


Lisnyak dusted off his coat, while standing outside the gilded door's of the Tsar's personal chambers. In truth though, he didn't know why he bothered. Young Tsar Vladimir Aleksandr was unlikely to judge him if he had a stray hair clinging to his coat. This child was famous among the palace staff for absolutely covering the expensive, regal uniforms he was given in mud while playing outside with the servant's children.

As usual, Lisnyak had been waiting for more than thirty minutes outside of this same, gilded door. This same thing tended to happen every week. No doubt it was some ill-humored joke by the child's mother, some attempt at showing superiority. Understandable, perhaps. But incredibly counterproductive. After all, Lisnyak was the one running these people's country for them.

At last, two Palace Guardsmen swung open the gilded doors, allowing Lisnyak to enter. From here, Lisnyak knew the drill. He took three steps past the threshold, and bowed a deep, low bow.

"Your Imperial Majesty," Lisnyak said mechanically, in scripted monotone. "Your Viceroy and humble servant, Pyotr Olegovich Lisnyak, at your service."

For a few moments, and a few moments too long at that, if you were to ask Lisnyak, silence permeated the air. Lisnyak remained in his low bow. Finally, a familiar, female voice addressed him.

"Rise, Pyotr Olegovich Lisnyak."

Lisnyak stood erect. Before him, sitting on a divan with her child on her knee, playing some handheld video game and barely paying attention, he beheld the self styled "Tsarina Regent," Anastasia Kazamora.

"My Lady," Lisnyak smiled coldly to her before setting eyes on the young Tsar. "Your Majesty. I have arrived for our weekly meeting, as scheduled."

"Yeah," Vladimir Aleksandr uttered disinterestedly.

Lisnyak sucked in a breath and maintained his smile. "I brought you a gift."

The Tsar's eyes darted up excitedly as Lisnyak produced, from his coat pocket, a fine steel dagger with a handle of carved reindeer antler. Before his mother could stop him, the young monarch threw down his GameBoy to take his prize. He grabbed at it, and giggling madly, immediately began shredding cushions and curtains throughout the room before darting out to damage more property, pursued by two concerned Palace Guardsmen.

The Tsarina cast her eyes coldly on Lisnyak, wearing an angry smile. "As always, Viceroy, you show wisdom in all things." The Tsarina cocked her head toward the now ruined couch.

"This palace and all in it is his Majesty's property. He may do with it as he wishes." Lisnyak did not need to force his smile at this point.

The Tsarina took a deep breath in and out. "As you say. But, Lisnyak, you may not."

The Viceroy's brow furrowed. "To what do you refer, my Lady?"

The Tsarina turned her back on Lisnyak, with a swish of her silken gown, and headed to the light of a window. "You recently had two captains of the Palace Guard Regiment removed from command and replaced, did you not?"

"I did," Lisnyak replied simply.

"Would you care to tell me your reasoning behind this?"

Lisnyak shrugged. "Military men are often rotated from station to station. It is how the armed forces work."

The Tsarina turned to face him again. "The officers of the Palace Guard are selected by the Tsar himself. Those men were placed in their position by my husband."

"And the late Tsar Konstantin made wise selections," Lisnyak responded. "Those men were long due for promotions. So I replaced them. I remind you, my Lady, that in your son's minority, I am constitutionally entitled to his powers."

The Anastasia shot a stale, venomous look at Lisnyak. She had heard this refrain before. "In the future, Viceroy, I would greatly appreciate it if you would contact me before exercising powers that place strangers in my household."

"In his Majesty's household, my Lady," Lisnyak corrected her.

The Tsarina rolled her eyes. "Furthermore, your recent transactions with the government of Austiana have proven somewhat... disturbing to me."

Lisnyak's brow furrowed once more. "How so?"

"What was it that made you select this... republic?" The Tsarina spat the word. "Why would you grant them such power over their neighbors, when this pipeline passes through the Kingdom of Scalvia. Could they not just as easily suffice for our purposes? The House of Neumarkt is our oldest, best ally. They are my cousins! And you would simply pass them over?"

Lisnyak massaged the space between his eyes. He always hated being forced to explain geopolitics to this woman. Discussing the Slavic Union, binding Zaliviya with two non-monarchies, was taxing enough.

"My Lady, Austiana is better positioned in central Victorium for us to project power and to undertake whatever operations we may need to in order to ensure the success of our pipeline. Furthermore, valued though our alliance with the Union kingdoms may be, Austiana's government is more centralized and straightforward. They are easier to coordinate with. But I assure you, my Lady, we have a deal prepared for Union which will benefit them all greatly."

"Hmmph," scoffed the Tsarina. "I should hope so. I do not take kindly to the snubbing of my kinsmen."

Lisnyak tried his best to keep from rolling his eyes. "Is that all you wish to speak with me about then, my Lady?"

"It is," Anastasia replied curtly. "If you will excuse me, I must attend to my son. He seems to be under some negative influences."

Lisnyak inclined his head in a bow, considerably shallower than before. "Then I shall take my leave, my Lady." Lisnyak turned to leave the palace, relieved to be done with this week's meeting.
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Saros
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Summer Country Palace
Zastava Province, Zaliviya


Pyotr Lisnyak sat quietly suppressing a smile as best he could. As everyone knew, Lisnyak rarely smiled. He once overheard a friend of his daughter Katyusha put it very succinctly:

'Every time your papa smiles, an angel falls from grace.'

There was no reason to give up the game so soon. Lisnyak knew if he were to smile, it would tip this woman who droned on in front of him off that something was... different. Different was the only word that could truly be applied in this circumstance.

Instead, Lisnyak kept his famous, congenital poker face. He pretended to listen to whatever the Tsarina Regent had to say about something. Just something? He was so lost in his own thoughts that he had totally lost track of what she was saying? In truth, Lisnyak had been watching the court painter paint yet another portrait of the young Tsar. While the Tsar certainly did not show any special, prodigal ability to comment meaningfully on geopolitics at the age of eight, Lisnyak was forced to admit that the normally hyperactive child sovereign showed a singular determination to remain still for this painting. That was good, Lisnyak thought. Promising even. However, Lisnyak was unable to finish the thought, as the tempest that was the Tsarina Regent battered him back into reality.

"... certainly do not need Gilead for- Pyotr? Lisnyak! Are you even listening to me?"

Lisnyak came crashing out of his all engrossing thoughts. "Uh? Oh. My apologies, My Lady. My thoughts were elsewhere."

This was both true, and a bait. Lisnyak knew that the Tsarina Regent could not stand being ignored.

"I would appreciate it," the Tsarina fumed, "if you would pay attention when your Tsarina is speaking to you. The very impudent nerve of- What? Lisnyak, you're- Are you ill?"

Lisnyak needed to touch his face before he realized he hadn't been able to control himself. His face was split by a smile from ear to ear, a grotesque feeling his face was unaccustomed to. A few peals of laughter also escaped him now. The game up, Lisnyak reached into his coat pocket to retrieve an envelope. A very ornate envelope. A Portuan envelope.

"Mail for you, My Lady," Lisnyak quipped before once again enjoying a bout of laughter. He held out the letter to the Tsarina Regent. At first reluctant, the Tsarina at last snatched the letter from him and read it hungrily. By the time she finished, she was nearly incredulous.

"A proposal of... marria... Well of course we will say no!"

This only caused Lisnyak to laugh a tad more. "I'm afraid we've already said yes, My Lady. Both myself and... haha!... Your brother! Ha!"

"You..." the Empress Mother of Zaliviya gawked.

Lisnyak struggled through his laughter to his feet. "The planes leave tomorrow for Dunaj. You and your son shall have one to yourself. A second shall carry the Duke of Vapoletsk. Two more shall carry twenty other Zaliviyan nobles to form your entourage."

Lisnyak gave one last low bow. "My Lady. Your Imperial Majesty."

After this, Lisnyak left the Tsar's personal chambers, unexcused, but feeling better than he had in some years."
Edited by Saros, May 8 2015, 06:18 AM.
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Saros
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Summer Country Palace
Zastava Province, Zaliviya



As the gilded doors that led into the Tsar's personal chambers were opened- now much more promptly than had ever been the case when the Tsarina had been in residence here- Pyotr Lisnyak performed his weekly ritual. He took three steps past the threshold and bowed, deeply.

"Your Imperial Majesty, your Viceroy and humble servant, Pyotr Olegovich Lisnyak, at your service."

"Rise, Pyotr Olegovich Lisnyak," the young Tsar responded. It was a bit shaky, but better than what Lisnyak had expected from the boy.

Lisnyak rose, and looked around the room. Finding that the Tsarina was not present made him intensely happy, and he took a leisurely breath of fresh air. The Tsar looked at him intently, forced for the first time to participate in these meetings himself.

"So," the boy Tsar began. "What am I s'posed to do now?"

Lisnyak faked a smile for the boy, "Well, your Imperial Majesty, this time is usually reserved so that I can answer any questions you have about the policies your government is pursuing." The Viceroy paused. "Do you have any questions, your Majesty?"

Tsar Vladimir Aleksandr responded promptly. "Why did you send my mother away?"

Lisnyak sighed. "You see, your Majesty, as a female member of an imperial house, such as the Kazamors or the Neumarkts, your mother had a certain duty. She was needed in order to secure a very important alliance with the Portuans."

The Tsar shook his head. "I don't understand."

Lisnyak sighed. It had been a long time since he had truly spoken with a child. "Your Imperial Majesty," he explained, "this may be difficult to hear. For four years, your mother the Tsarina did nothing but sit in this palace, pining for your father. This is no place for such a young woman to spend the rest of her life. She needed to go out again, to find love and be happy."

"She didn't seem happy," the Tsar responded.

Lisnyak looked at the Tsar conspiratorially. "Your Majesty, sometimes women don't really know what it is they want, and will refuse something even if it is good for them. Did she seem happy here to you?"

The Tsar looked upward in thought. "She was angry a lot."

Lisnyak nodded. "Too much, I would say. We all just want her to be happy, and this will make her happy. Don't you want your mother to be happy, your Majesty?"

"Yes," the young sovereign admitted sheepishly. "But what about all those other people? What about my Rhenish teacher?"

Lisnyak's brow furrowed. "Well, your Majesty, most of those people were your mother's retainers. Many left with her. The others just left, I think. Besides, you don't need to learn Rhenish, now do you. You're the Tsar of Zaliviya, not the Emperor of Nemacia."

"I guess," the Tsar responded.

Lisnyak cast an eye toward the bookshelf. He scanned over countless volumes of Nemacian poems, novels, harlequins, and plays before finally coming across a book of Zaliviyan epic poetry, the Lay of Vlavislav. The Viceroy made a note to change out the Tsar's reading material to something more patriotic before retrieving the Lay of Vladislav.

"Would you like me to read you a Zaliviyan story, your Imperial Majesty?" Lisnyak asked. "It tells of Grand Prince Vladislav Ivo and his epic battles against the Khazrids. It's a very exciting book."

The Tsar tried to coyly hide his interest, but like any eight year old child, he loved to be read to. "Okay."

Lisnyak spent the remainder of his visit reading to the young Tsar.
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