Osterpunk 1.2
In the Service of the Great Black Eagle
“Your Majesty?”
The chamber was silent and dark. A strong breeze flowed in the window though the skyship had stopped moving.
“Your Majesty?” Luisa said again and louder in the direction of the massive four poster bed at the end of the chamber.
“Wha?!” A female figure sat bolt upright on the bed. “What? What is it?” She muttered, half-asleep.
“We’ve arrived above Rome, your Majesty. You asked me to wake you when we arrived at Rome.”
“Yeah, okay… just five more minutes, mom.”
Luisa walked calmly over to the bed, took one last disapproving look at the Imperial hot mess that had rolled over on it and then clapped her hands as loud as she could. “Damn it, Maria. I try to be all noble and stand on ceremony and then you make it so difficult that I have to be your big sister again and treat you like a little kid! We’re at Rome! Get UP!” The Great Black Eagle’s most senior adviser and simultaneous big sister shouted as the Imperator Maria X jolted awake and scrambled out of bed.
“Ooooh, Gawd, Luisa. I told you I didn’t sleep well last night,” the Imperator whined.
“Maria, we’ve been over this. You may have reluctantly assumed the command of the empire at a young age when you’re unwilling, and dare I say, unable to fulfill that responsibility. You may be a hapless, melancholy teenager…”
“I’ll be twenty next month…” Maria protested.
“TEEN ager,” Luisa stressed the syllable, “...who had to grow up too soon but Pontiff Clara is not. The Swan does not take her job lightly and hasn’t for several hundred years.” “So, let the crusty old pontiff hold off the Turk herself.” “She can’t and you know it. The Swan cannot protect Osta alone.”
“Ohhh,” Maria groaned.
“It’s the Swan and the Great Black Eagle to…”
“Together… yeah, yeah, yeah… blah, blah, blah…” The last ‘blah’ was interrupted by a yawn. Luisa gently smacked the royal shoulder as only her big sister would be allowed to do. The sound of light and cautious tapping was heard from the chamber door. Luisa smoothed the front of her uniform and made her way towards the door with an imperious stride. When she opened it slightly to look out, she had her most aristocratic expression glued to her face.
“What is it, Lieutenant?”
“We’re readying the skiff, my lady.”
“Excellent.” “The Apostolic Palace has acknowledged our arrival and they’ve said they are eagerly waiting the presence of the Great Black Eagle.”
“Wonderful, Lieutenant. Just wonderful.”
Luisa made as if to shut the door in the lieutenant’s face. He hurried to ask:
“And how is everything else progressing, your ladyship?”
Luisa’s expression darkened without losing much of its aristocracy. “Wonderful, Lieutenant. Just wonderful.” She shut the door.
“God! That lieutenant doesn’t know when to shut up!” Maria said as she stood sleepily in front of her sister. “He must’ve tried to wake me up a hundred times before you came.” “Well, luckily you can’t withstand me.”
Maria yawned and stretched. “Alright…”
“Alright what?”
“Let’s go meet the crusty old pontiff lady… er… swan…”
“Umm, no.”
“No?”
“Not looking like that,” Luisa contradicted her imperial majesty. “Gerrard?”
A servant with long stylish coat tails and the traditional wig of the contemporary 18th century style entered. He wore a perpetual haughty sneer. A dozen other ladies in waiting crowded behind him. “You called, Lady Luisa?”
“Make me proud and make it look like the fastest Turk skygalleon is standing still.” “With pleasure, Your Ladyship.” Gerrard clapped his hands and the servants set upon the empress faster than a Turkish skygalleon. The servant with the perpetual sneer said to Luisa as she left the room: “We’ll make the empire proud of this empress.”
“Thank you, Gerrard. I’m going on ahead to make excuses for her majesty being fashionably late.” Luisa looked back at her sister who was now being dressed by her attendants and made up into regal majesty. Gerrard had since opened the curtains in the bedchamber on the skyship so that the light of the Roman sun was streaming in. “I’ll see you down there, your Majesty.”
“You mean: Maria…”
“No, I mean your Majesty.”
“Fine.”
Luisa started walking again but turned as an afterthought. “I’m proud of you. You’re going to do fine.”
“Alright, your Majesty,” Maria said with a sarcasm which spoke much more of hurt and fear than of pride or bitterness.
Luisa kept walking. There were many who would have preferred the older sister to be Great Black Eagle but tradition comes first. There are some things that even the Great Black Eagle cannot change.