Reliquias nos Gloriosus Praeterita \[IC\]
Aleonoria last edited by
After a long day at the Palace of Versailles, where all the greatest art of the European Union was centered for one night, discussions about great works of art such as Apollo and Daphne, the Overthrow, Death of Cleopatra and the Book of Kells begun taking place, with great praise being handed out to both the artists and the nation they've come from. The exhibition was, without a doubt, one of the most important events when it comes to cultural development of the European Union, with nations that have taken part in it contributing to a greater unity as they shape European history. However, the true highlght of the night is the dinner meant to take place after the art exhibition, where the leaders of Europe would come together and discuss about the latest events, the art that was shown and numerous other topics.
When the exhibition was closed, the leaders that participated were sent to their assigned sleeping chambers, where they would spend the night after the dinner begun and would have the chance to prepare for the formality that was ahead after a potentially exhausting day of being photographed by commoners and observing art, even the pieces they didn't understand. And when it was nine o'clock, with the tower bells ringing, people have slowly begun making their way to the dining hall where they would have some light hearted conversation and aperitives prior to the actual dinner itself.
Aleksandra stared at herself in the mirror while in her bed chambers, glancing at her companion, Henry, prior to removing her fur coat and sliding out of her dress. "I can't believe I wore fur to this, I was sweating like a whore in church." She then went through the bag of clothes she brought with her, choosing to put on a simple white gown. Henry then approached his queen from her back, helping her with the zipper. "It doesn't matter Aleks, considering that you looked more beautiful than anyone else in the room. There's a reason Archbishop Craticus couldn't keep his eyes off of you." He then smiled while Aleksandra gasped, but soon followed that with a satisfied smirk. "You're right, as usual."
After a few more minutes of dressing up, during which Aleksandra mocked Henry's feminine grooming habits, the two decided to leave to the dining room together while holding hands, even though they went different ways soon after, with Henry heading to his seat the moment he walked in whereas Aleksandra decided to take on a more social role, walking around the hall and discussing things with the service, learning things not only about them, but about the other attendants. She learned that the Aleonorian queen was a vegetarian, Artabanos refused to drink young scotch and that Paul Craticus chose to drink pinot noir, something that inspired her to order it on the spot as she thought about what was she going to do when the Inquistians arrived. Should she act pleasant? Should she choose to ignore them? Should she put all her cards out on the table? This amount of insecurity and uncertainty rarely occupied the queen's mind, who had the image of a confident socialite to live up to.
On the other hand, Henry too was nervous, but not more than he usually was. He immediately begun to worry about sitting next to Paul Craticus, the man about whose affair with Aleksandra he knew about, and Rob Ford who he heard both great and awful rumors about from the all-consuming Rechroatian media. At least he was sitting on the corner of the table, he thought, so he was bound to have more private space than most, even though not as much as he'd be comfortable with.
Craticus with Mikaela Kligenberg
Craticus met up with Mikaela, who was waiting for him, at the end of the sleeping chambers hallway.
"That took you forever", she said jokingly.
"I'm taking my time. I'm dreading this, to be honest".
Mikaela squealed in laughter and gave him a peck on his cheek. "You look great".
Craticus winced as she quickly kissed him. Somehow Craticus had the power within himself to tolerate Mikaela in public, despite having a massive loathing for her and her family. If it was up to him, Mikaela wouldn't be here, and nor would he, really. But his Minister of Culture forced him to attend this event, and unfortunately for him, Mikaela somehow got involved in this too. Craticus thought that maybe his Culture Minister was doing this on purpose to get back at him for not giving him the Transport Ministry.
"Ready to head into the dining hall?", Craticus said.
"Of course. But first... let's take a selfie!"
Craticus winced again. "No, enough of those. You already took 20 selfies with the Mona Lisa.
"Her eyebrows are on fleek though."
"Okay, sure, but that doesn't explain those explicit pictures you took of squeezing the statue of Daphne and her chest."
"I wasn't sure if they were real or not!"
Craticus rolled his eyes and extended his arm. Mikaela smiled and wrapped her arm around his, and they began to walk into the dining hall.
"Besides, what kind of art was that yesterday? The Birth of Venus, really? Inquista shouldn't be promoting false deities. If it was up to me, I would of picked The Resurrection of Christ by Peter Paul Rubens, or that beautiful statue of the Virgin Mary from the Golden Basilica."
"Hey now, I made those picks myself."
"That explains a lot", Craticus whispered to himself quietly.
They two of them entered the beautiful dining hall and analysed the scene. Craticus was making sure to avoid Queen Aleksandra as much as possible. After the events that transpired at the last formal event he attended with the Rechroatian Queen, he was feeling quite embarrassed and ashamed. He had broken his chastity in a drunken haze and it has haunted him since. Despite his best efforts, Craticus made frequent awkward eye contact with Aleksandra at yesterday's exhibition.
As Craticus stood in the room, looking around, Mikaela suddenly reappeared before him with two glasses of some type of alcoholic drink. "Here. Cheers!"
Craticus took the glass from her and began drinking it.
"Oh and by the way Paul, I made sure to have you seat right across Queen Aleksandra. I think you'll like her."
Craticus immediately spat out his drink. "You what!? Argh, nevermind. This is going to be a long night. Where are the drinks? I'll have to take a few more of those. Let's just mingle around", Craticus said in very irritated voice, attempting to escape from Mikaela. He wasn't ready to be seated quite yet, and especially not across from Aleksandra.
He noticed Henry van Cavill by the table. He looked at Henry and attempted to discreetly signal for him to come over.
Inimicus last edited by
Artabanos was all alone. He could not stand his wife on international events like this. All she would do is sit and be quiet, drinking too much wine and getting drunk silently. He was glad he could use the excuse of so-called 'democratic legitimacy' to avoid bringing her. He was all alone, and glad because of it. He always felt more at ease as Emperor when he came alone to events, it made him feel as though he had no one to look after, for once, and that was a something he could not praise high enough as absolute monarch. Moreover, an event like this always provided him with many opportunities to think about how he could profile Inimicus internationally. His closest allies - and perhaps some of his arch enemies - would be present at this occasion, which would provide him with great chances to measure Inimicus's popularity abroad.
As he entered the magnificent dining hall, he thought: "Almost as good as my palace", but quickly realising he shouldn't think too arrogantly. He was directed to his seat, but did not want to sit down just yet. Instead, he ordered a light aperetif and watched the guests come in. His state uniform, decorated with all kinds of purple-black ornaments, was uncomfortable, yet he attempted to show off as much of it as he could, just to indicate his delicate status as absolute monarch. He played a game with his own mind, guessing which nation the delegates were from. "Ah, the Inquistans", he thought as he saw Craticus and Mikaela walk in. He hoped the seating plans would sit him next to someone he knew, and preferably not the Havvenskarians. The last time he had met King Olav, a dark, unpleasant body odour had attracted his attention the entire meeting.
Thinking back to that moment, he quickly downed the rest of his glass, realising it was a stronger beverage than he had thought, and started walking around the hall, the tails of his suit waving around as he stepped. He picked up another glass and pretended to be interested for a few minutes.
Queen Anastasia's Stunning Dress With Her Extra Load!
After flying in from Saint Regina, and viewing the art Anastasia lay on the bed. The Plane journey had been hell, there was a lot of turbulence when they went through the gulf stream, and they served her a cheese risotto. Cheese?! She considered for a long while of dropping the "Royal" endorsement of the "Royal Icholasen Airlines". The overall Pregnancy was a long and tedious one, but living in the lap of luxury aided her. Another hard task for her was getting into the dress, which was quite a feat. Tommy seemed to know a lot about getting into tight clothing, so he showed her the tricks of the trade. Once the dress was on she admired herself in the mirror, moving from her head down, past her bosoms and onto the large parasitic belly she had. She couldn't wait to be rid of this thieving brat. However after her rage died down, she realised that she was harbouring a human life. She thought that was a beautiful process she'd never forget. According to her mother it's the same pain of the morning after having 12 liters of ice cream. Maybe even 20.
Tommy was less content with his future than Anastasia. Being second, about to be third in line to the throne with no chance of ever claiming it is never a fun ordeal. After renouncing his control of the Armed forces to the Minister of Defense, John Prescott; a decorated General, Tommy decided to go down a more charitable route, helping the poorest and most vulnerable in Icholasen's society. He readied himself, he wore a swanky suit that he had just bought in a boutique nearby. He thought it looked pretty good. Tommy much adored checking out the fine European Monarchs and leaders, he had missed this from previous dinners he had attended. He awaited Anastasia's call for them to go down.
Henry's mouth opened wide open as he saw Craticus, approaching the two with the best smile he could throw on. "Paul and Mikaela, right? It is great to see you here, because I can't imagine this dinner being interesting at all without at least a few Inquistans around." He then glanced over at Queen Anastasia and Prince Tommy who just arrived right before his eyes went right back to Mikaela as he reminded himself of the introduction tips he read at Cosmopolitan, hoping to make a good first impression. "It looks like this can count a Kligenberg family reunion, with Renata and Willam from the United Kingdom and Aleonoria respectively finally getting the opportunity to meet the real deal. This must be very exciting for you, my lady."
In the meantime, Aleksandra made her way over to Artabanos with a big smile. "Ah, emperor Artabanos! All it took was one look and I already feel like a 16th century peasant next to you." The queen then chuckled, obviously referring to the man's extravagant fashion choice. She then signalled the waiter who brought over a glass of aged scotch to Artabanos, making sure that the emperor knows that it's fourteen years of age. "I hope that the scotch will be strong enough to help you survive sitting next to King Olav. There were several interesting articles about the two of you that I've read, and as you may know, I like to keep up with the rest of Europe."
Halsberg last edited by
"You're not going to leave me alone at the table again, are you?", Marie asked accusingly. She remembered the last few events like these, where her husband had wandered off, got into arguments with the staff and spoke more to obscure foreign royals than to her. He'd been like that earlier today during the art showcase, although mercifully the arguments with the staff had been minor. Even so, having one's husband spend five minutes arguing with a Alenorian footman about the legality of smoking a pipe indoors, in front of a dozen foreign dignitaries, was embarrassing in the extreme.
"I never do dear. I go and socialise with the other folks, I don't abandon you. You're not shackled to the table, you can go and meet the other women if you want", the High President replied, straightening his bow tie in front of the mirror. Brave choice, bright turquoise, he thought to himself. Marie certainly won't be the only one unhappy with him tonight, remembering the fashion lesson earlier, thanks to Mr von Cavill and the Archbishop.
The High President's wife snorted. "Oh thank you, I'm so glad I've got your permission," she said with just a small hint of sarcasm. "As much as I love the medieval chauvinism, perhaps you should tone it down a bit, Aleksandra's here remember." She turned to face Solomon, having just finished putting on the last of her makeup. "How do I look?"
"Hmm, what? Oh yes, you look lovely.", he said absently, moving across the room to the minibar. Marie sighed, irritated, and went back to brushing the tugs out of her red hair with renewed vigour. There was a short knock on the door, and out of the corner of her eye she saw her husband stride over and answer. He came over and dropped a piece of card down on the dresser in front of her. "Seating plan. Sorry Marie. When the whole mingling thing starts, come and find me though."
"Christ," she sighed, reaching for the minibar.
Some time later, the Solomons met up with Bishop Weyer in the corridor. His clothes were surprisingly subdued for the Bishop, who usually liked his religious attire to overload everyone else's senses. His clerical collar was the only sign he was even a member of the church, let alone one of the most powerful men in Halsberg. He was a tall and thin, with equally thin hair. As Chair for the Committee for the Preservation of Moral Integrity, he was the leader of one of the largest Commonwealths in Halsberg, and somehow had worked his way into this visit.
The Solomons and the Bishop greeted each other politely, and made their way down to the dining room. "So Bishop, I noticed you were left off the dinner's seating plan. I'm sure you can pull up a chair somewhere", the High President said, attempting to wind the man up.
"I'm sure, High President.", the Bishop replied curtly. Solomon had made it his mission for the trip to force the Bishop to show some kind of emotion. So far, he'd been unsuccessful. He'll crack, thought Solomon. All Golgosans do eventually.
They entered the dining room, and saw a fair few of the other guests had already arrived. The Halsbergian threesome were quite a sight to behold. On the left, a man clad in entirely in black save his clerical collar, who looked as if he might be a vampire. In the centre, High President Solomon, wearing a bright turquoise bow tie, white frilly shirt and dark blue suit. And on the right, a short redheaded woman wearing an almost burlesque-type black dress. "Game faces, folks.", the High President said quietly as they joined the crowd.
"Pleasure to meet you Henry", Craticus said with a smile. Craticus was glad to finally meet Henry, after hearing much of him from Aleksandra.
"It is good to meet you", Mikaela said politely. Mikaela pretended that she knew who Henry was, but in all truth, Mikaela knows and remembers very little about the world outside of her own small bubble. She was attempting to remember all the people that were supposed to be in attendance. Henry... Henry... Oh! Him! Henry! she thought to herself.
"You must be in charge of the Rechroatian military, because you've got big guns", Mikaela joked, hoping to get approval for her pun.
Craticus facepalmed and quickly began to put his escape-from-Mikaela plan into action.
"I'll be going to get more wine. It was good to meet you Henry. I can't wait to chat some more with you when dinner is served".
Craticus quickly exited from the conversation as he saw Solomon enter the room.
"Finally", he whispered to himself.
He approached Solomon and was about to give him a warm greeting but stopped short when he realised what the High President was wearing.
"Frills? You always know how to be unfashionably late, Solomon. It's good to see you again!"
With Craticus leaving her side, Mikaela immediately felt slightly disorientated. She hated how he always left her.
"So Henry, should we take our seats?" Mikaela suggested.
She walked over to the grand dining table and sat down in Prince Tommy's assigned seat, which she mistook for her own. Huh, they spelt my name wrong she thought to herself. Oh well, I do that all the time too. That silent 'c' always gets me.
Halsberg last edited by
The High President spent a few seconds scanning the room. In fifteen, he knew intimately where the bar, the nibbles tables and the exits were. A habit he'd learned back in the military, slightly adapted for the situation. He looked over his shoulder at Marie, who was busy talking to Bishop Weyer, not that he was reciprocating much. She'd have better conversation with a Llanowaran. With her distracted, he was free from her calorie counting, for now at least. He started towards the nearest bowl of bombay mix. "The High President sentences you to six to eight hours imprisonment," he muttered to himself, amused. He reached his hand out to grab a handful, but froze when he heard someone approach at speed. "For god's sake Marie its only some damn cris....", he said loudly as he turned. He stopped when he noticed it was in fact Archbishop Craticus.
Solomon cleared his throat somewhat loudly, and returned the Archbishop's greeting. "Oh very funny. Frills'll be back in fashion any day now, just you wait. Trendsetter, that's me. Can't be worse than what Mr Happy is wearing over there," he said, pointing at Bishop Weyer, who was still miraculously holding Marie's attention.
"So, how have you been? Not had a proper chance to chat since we got here. You seem like you're having the time of your life!", Solomon said, his eyes fleeting over to Mikaela for just a second.
"Tommy I'm leaving with or without you!" Anastasia said furiously through the Prince's Door. Tommy was busy checking himself out in the mirror. Hoping, praying he'd get some action. Another furious knocking.
"Jesus Christ, woman!" He shouted.
"Thomas Alexander Peter Nicholas James Romanov get out here right now. And if you use that sort of blasphemy in front of the religious leaders I'll have you shot." Anastasia shouted, turning a bright red colour, comparable to that of a rose, in incurable rage.
Tommy opened the door to a bright red Anastasia, who was fuming at him. He decided not to say anything. Anastasia rocked the Royal Waddle into the dining hall and promptly sat down in a huff, she decided to have a drink as just one drink couldn't do any damage, at least not at this stage. She had a white Russian, with no milk and guzzled it down.
"Are you sure you should be having that, Anya?" Tommy said judgmentally, intentionally trying to wind her up.
"Who are you, the police?" Anastasia snapped. "Go beg for some guy's attention like you normally do"
Tommy turned to where his seat was marked, only to see that Mikaela was sitting there. After a long day of listening to Anastasia whinge he wanted to sit down and flirt. But no. Mikaela...
"Excuse me... Mikaela... I believe that is MY seat. I've had a rough day, you dumb villainous whore." Tommy said, getting flustered by this act of stupidity by Mikaela
"Thomas Alexander Peter Nicholas James Romanov, I must dissaprove of this behaviour of yours! You need to shape up young man! You were even late to my coronation last year you slut!" Anastasia yelled. Then fell an awkward silence that lingered for a few moments, now was raw and bare the conflict of power between the two siblings. Maybe something more had happened on that plane other than a cheesy risotto.
Inimicus last edited by
Artabanos was still alone. He walked around the room pretending to be interested in the hall's interior, when fact was he just wanted someone - preferably a friend - to talk to and have some drinks with before his worst fear would come true: he saw he had been seated near King Olav of Havvenskar. Taking his fourth aperitif from a servant's plate and casually picking the only kind of nuts he liked from the mixes on the different tables, he got to think how he could escape the Havvenskarian monarch. Usually his clean wit would be able to think of something, but he could not come up with anything. "It's because of this dammed place. Trying to impress me with its golden walls and mirrors", he thought.
Where even were they? He hadn't spotted the smelly Havvenskarians yet, and a sudden rush of hope ignited in him. They might be terribly late, or they might not come at all. Oh, cherish the thought. He discreetly polished up some if his totally legitimate medals in one of the corners of the room and just stood for a moment, taking in the atmosphere. At least Emperor Jules wasn't here, that would've worsened his company even more.
He was suddenly interrupted by this Alexandra lady he had heard so much about. He didnt really want to talk to her though. 'Oh, I'm fine, thank you, yourself? Good, good. I guess I'll see you around then', he said and quickly walked away.
Before losing complete hope of finding someone interesting, however, he saw Michael Solomon and Archbishop Craticus chatting. "Ugh", he thought, "I'm going to have to interrupt them if I want to actually talk to someone." He did not like interrupting people, not particularly because of them - he couldn't care any less about others, though Solomon and Craticus might be exceptions - but he just didn't like how awkward it was for himself.
However, having found his courage, he walked up to the duo and plainly began: 'oh hello. How have you both been?'
Mikaela was legitimately taken aback by Prince Tommy's harsh words. For a few seconds, she sat there in awkward silence before realizing what was going on.
"Oh, sorry, I think you must be mistaken", Mikaela said, picking up Tommy's name placard from the table and showing it to him. "It's my seat. Look, they've misspelt my name. It happens all the time. Sometimes even I can't spell it right. I always spelt it with a 'k' when it's really a 'c'. It happens to the best of us".
"Yeah, she's a horrid one to handle-" Craticus started, before being interrupted by Tommy's loud tantrum in the opposite side of the room.
"See, I leave her for one minute and she's already causing a wreck. Who is that Tommy bloke anyway?" Craticus asked before preceding to name and slander him using every homophobic term under the sun.
Craticus quickly stopped himself as he saw Artabons come and join him and the High President.
"Artie! Good to see you. I am doing well", Craticus said smoothly, trying to cover his tracks.
Aleksandra nodded at the man, quite amused by his behavior. "We'll see one another around then, have fun." After that she walked away with a sigh, looking for ways to amuse herself, with there being no person to keep her good company. Trying to talk with the old man was a bad, bad idea she thought to herself prior to leaving the room for the bathroom, fixing her makeup and thinking about Paul. However, out of her quirky curiousity, she decided to enter the bathroom stall due to her wondering how does one look in a royal palace, considering that she refused to live in one. "You're supposed to do the thing in this? It's more expensive looking than my Ralph Lauren couch!"
In the meantime, Henry was walking alongside Mikaela, who decided that 'Tommy' was in fact her name mispelled. However, while that mistake was something that he was going to correct, the Nicolezian prince appeared at just the right time, creating a great scandal out of something that Henry saw as a minor misunderstanding. However, rather than saying anything to him, he tapped Mikaela's shoulder gently, "That's Prince Tommy of Icholasen. And this is in fact his chair... just apologize, and let's find your seat."
A stunned silence from both Anastasia and Tommy filled the air. Anastasia could see the rage building up in Tommy and she knew something would happen, but alas she did nothing as she was looking forward to see what Tommy would do and how severe it would be. Tommy scanned the table for something damaging. Then, he smiled menacingly and picked up a nearby bottle of wine, lifted it high above Mikaela's ugly head and opened the cork slowly, then unleashed the red flood upon her. Shaking the bottle up and down Mikaela was thoroughly soaked with red wine. Then he proceeded to pour it all over Henry's shirt.
"Oopsie daisy!" He said innocently. "Want me to help you take off your shirt Henry?" he winked.
"Thomas Alexander Peter Nicholas James Romanov! Is this your goddamn daddy issues playing up again?" Anastasia shouted.
Tommy then stormed off to the closest bed chamber he could find, and open.
"Get over it, you dumb cow!" Anastasia shouted. "What we found on the plane you already knew." She said, quietening her voice as the sentence progressed. "I'm really sorry for my brother. He's been bitter and closed off ever since my coronation. I would help you clean up but I'm too tired sweetie." Anastasia said. "And of course the plane journey. God that plane journey was a literal hell. Don't ask, by the way." Anastasia glanced across the room and saw the buffet table. "Jesus Christ that looks good" she though to herself, looking at the salt and vinegar crisps. She then tried to arise, with limited success. Then with the help of several servants she arose. And regally waddled towards the buffet table. It was a pregnant woman's fantasy. All the food in large quantities. Even ice cream. A treat one only indulges in rarely and in dire privacy in Icholasen.
Mikaela should of listened to Henry's warning because she was not ready for the red wave that was about to be poured over her head. The red wine had totally soaked her hair and some of it has dripped down unto her black, elegant gown. As an Inquistan socialite she was used to this type of antics, but she was never at the receiving end of it. Mikaela sat there totally shocked with her mouth wide open. She couldn't understand what she had done wrong. Now, with her gown ruined, she felt totally embarrassed. For once in her life, she hated to have all the eyes in the room staring at her. But she knew she was above this sort of behavior and didn't say anything. Instead, she allowed Anastasia to tell her brother off. Mikaela doesn't like conflict and she would never allow herself to get upset over something like this.
Mikaela turned to Henry and stared at him with a ditzy, puzzled look. "I don't know why that poor little Nicolezian servant poured that wine on me. And to think I've donated millions of Francs to poor Nicolezian children."
Mikaela seemed totally unaware of who Prince Tommy was, mistaking him for a Nicolezian servant. Mikaela's understanding of Nicolezian people was quite warped, believing that all of them must be really poor.
"Do you think that was a terrorist attack? I've heard about a lot of those happening lately. I think I was just terrorist-attacked", Mikaela said with great concern. "Do you think that was a communist protesting against me? I've also heard a lot about those communists."
Mikaela stood up from Tommy's chair and politely excused herself. "I'm going to back to my room and change. I'll call someone to also help redo my hair. I guess this was a sign or something. This gown wasn't even that good after all anyway. It was only a couple dozen thousand Francs. I'll be back shortly."
Henry stood shocked at the sight, but being someone who avoids conflict by all means, he too has done nothing while all eyes were on him and Mikaela. "Wait, let me come with you." he says as she offers to leave, something that results in both of them heading away from the dining hall and towards the bed chambers. Henry then chuckles. "It is for the best if we head to the bed chamber of me and queen Aleksandra, just in case you confuse room 33 for room 22, or something among those lines. The palace is huge..." Upon making it to the room of Henry and Aleksandra, Henry pointed Mikaela to the bag Henry had to carry for Aleksandra the entire day, with it being filled with the queen's clothes, with some of them being unusually large. "I'm sure that Aleks won't mind if you take something of her's." He then takes off his ruined shirt and throws it onto his bed, putting on a black one afterwards. "Black seems like a solid choice, considering that it hides stains better, and I assume those will be common after what happened with the Nicolezian prince."
Mikaela thanked Henry with smile as he escorted her into the room he was sharing with Aleksandra.
"I do like that shirt. Black really suits you too. It would of matched perfectly with this gown..." Mikaela said trailing off, looking down at her wine-soaked dress with a rather disappointed expression. She looked through Aleksandra's bag and found a few dresses that she thought would look quite cute, but most of them were too small for her. Aleksandra has quite a small waist in comparison to Mikaela, and Aleksandra definitely had a smaller chest and behind.
"Oh this will fit!" Mikaela exclaimed rather giddily after finally finding an outfit that she thought she could fit into. Mikaela skipped into the walk-in closet and shut the door behind her. She reappeared moments later in her new outfit.
While not necessarily the appropriate thing to wear to a formal dinner, Mikaela decided that she would pull-off leather pants, a jocket jacket and her high heels.
"Ta-da! How do I look? I know it's not right for the occasion but nothing else will fit". Mikaela sighed and began to brush through her hair with her fingers. "Craticus will be so mad at me. Can we just walk around for a bit before going back to the dining hall? I don't want Craticus lecturing me just yet."
Henry smiled upon seeing Mikaela wearing her new clothes, though he didn't seem to be quite pleased with Mikaela's suggestion of not returning to the dining hall. He would consider it irresponsible to leave the rest of them behind, but at the same time he had a secret desire to explore the magnificent halls of Versailles, and doing something of the sort with such a charming woman was irrestible, resulting in him agreeing to it. "Very well. We'll go out, but we shouldn't be out there for longer than half an hour, and that should be enough for your hair to dry." With that said, he walked up to her and took her hand. "Now, shall we?"
With that, the two left the room and begun their private tour of what is believed to be the greatest palace in entire Europe. "Today's exhibition was wonderful, wasn't it? I'm pleased that we've participared in it, but it's much more peaceful now, without thousands of people being pushed in so that Aleonoria can make more out of this project." He then smiled, patiently awaiting her answer as he hoped that she would respond to him well, seeing as he wanted to make her thus far horrible night feel better.
"I am also so glad that we participated. So much of this is beautiful", Mikaela said really softly while walking slowly through the exhibition. It is a strange feeling being in the exhibition room now. The eerie silence is a sharp contrast to the loud bustle that occupied the exhibition room earlier in the day. The lonesome feeling gave Mikaela a bit of a shiver, so she made sure to walk very closely to Henry. As Henry and Mikaela walked past the art pieces, Mikaela made sure to take a long stop by the Mona Lisa. She stared at it for a while without saying anything. "I don't know why, but this is my favourite one."
Mikaela pulled out her phone and eagerly showed some pictures to Henry, displaying the 20+ selfies she took with it. "I just feel so sorry for her. She doesn't have any eyebrows or eyelashes. That's probably why she isn't smiling", Mikaela said while looking genuinely upset for the painting. "She was a real person right?"
Mikaela pulled a an eyebrow pencil from her purse and leaned toward the Mona Lisa.
"I think I'm going to give her the eyebrows she deserves."
Deputy Prime Minister Harman was ill and in her place, the lovely Renata Kligenberg came. Renata met with the Prime Minister and Foreign Secretary at the gallery.
"Hello!" Renata said, walking over to the Prime Minister. Mr. Ed Miliband took her hand and kissed it delicately and bowed.
"Your Highness!' Mr. Miliband said. "The vintage look suits you!"
"Thank you. I was inspired by Breakfast at Tiffany's. I love that film," Renata said to the Prime Minister. She looked to the Foreign Secretary. "Shall we all go in then?"
The British delegation made it to the dinner table slightly beyond fashionably late. Renata was excited to see Mikaela was sitting across the table from her.