IS: Chapter 72

Rasalhague had been completely spruced up for the Wedding. Not only had the Streets of Reykjavik been cleaned, but banners lined the streets in alternating colors, the Red, White, and Green of My House stood side-by-side with the Blue and White of Katrina's House, and all around, bunting in Lyran Blue, New Ålborg Red, and Rasalhague Teal lined the streets. Speaking of the streets, barricades had been set up, manned by planetary police and security agents, in order to manage the absolute mob of people who had come out to cheer on the marriage of their Prince. It seemed like half of Rasalhague had turned up for the Wedding. It was honestly pretty heartwarming, if I said so myself. I even mentioned that out loud as I was getting ready in the Prince's Palace of Raslahague.

"Of course they turned up, Your Highness. Even if your rule hadn't been going well, patriotism is a very big motivating factor these days." Spoke up Vévoda Kolowrat, who had arrived before I was set to commence the tour of Reykjavik that would kick off my wedding day, to go over a few matters regarding the business of state.

"And how am I doing in terms of rule, then?" I questioned.

"Quite well, actually. Employment is up in the last quarter since your installation as Prince, the economy is beginning to pick up steam thanks to your Corporate Partnership Initiatives, and after First Drakøns showed off their new equipment last week, an exercise that went live on the Net for all to see, the people feel safer than they did previously." Answered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"And how does the Riketsråd feel I'm doing?" I queried.

"Most are content. You've upheld your promises so far, and things are looking up, after all." Informed Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Most?" I asked.

"Yes, there's still the matter of the Comte de Rochefort and his faction. I'm afraid Pomme De Terre and the other members of Armand Rochefort's little bloc have been somewhat obstructionist in sessions since your installation. Well, I say somewhat obstructionist, but the truth is that they have attempted to block every motion that could even be considered to have come from those Lords of the Riketsråd who supported your nomination to the position of Prince of Rasalhague. Fortunately, they don't have the votes to do anything more than make a nuisance of themselves, and so long as things continue to go well, it is likely to remain that way." Explained Vévoda Kolowrat.

"It seems treasonous. Are we worried about potential secession or revolt from them?" I questioned.

"The possibility has been broached by KungsArmé Command, as you well know, but it has largely been dismissed." Refuted Vévoda Kolowrat.

"I have been a bit preoccupied with my impending nuptials of late, would you mind running me through the logic behind that dismissal, again?" I queried.

"Certainly, Your Highness. Between them, Armand Rochefort and his faction have six worlds of their own. Of them, the most industrialized and militarized is Spittal, whose Hertig, Albert Bernstorff-Johannes, is the second cousin of the current Earl of Thesselonika, Darrel Johannes, over in the Combine. In a way, Hertig Bernstorff-Johannes should be more influential within his faction than Armand Rochefort himself." Began Vévoda Kolowrat.

"And why isn't he?" I asked.

"He's too young. He's even younger than you are, Your Highness. At only twenty-one years old, the Hertig of Spittal is simply too inexperienced to make much use of his prestige." Answered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"That's very young." I mused.

"Indeed, Your Highness, during the campaign to elect you as Prince of Rasalhague, Albert was still completing his education at the Dover Institute for Higher Learning. He had to vote through a proxy." Informed Vévoda Kolowrat.

"I'm surprised that the Kuritas let him return to Spittal. That by itself could be evidence of a plot, couldn't it?" I questioned.

"Possibly, but it is unlikely, Your Highness. The Spittal Knights alone cannot face the forces of Rasalhague. Even aided by what forces could be brought to bear by the other members of Rochefort's Clique, they would only amount to a pair of regiments of dubious quality, if that." Refuted Vévoda Kolowrat.

"And if they were to be aided in their revolt by the DCMS?" I queried.

"That would be more difficult to deal with, but not insurmountable. Besides, our best estimates say that the Combine won't be ready for another war until at least thirty-thirty-four, possibly even not until thirty-thirty-five. Assuming you keep holding to the promises made to the Riketsråd on your election, we should be more than capable of defending ourselves from such an assault." Responded Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Still. Have KungsArmé Command begin wargaming out potential scenarios in the event of an assault from the Combine, aided by Rochefort's Clique. The Parameters for the initial scenario should take into account the current strength of the KungsArmé only, with the aid of no more than three regiments in-theater from the Grand Ducal Guards of New Ålborg." I insisted.

"It seems pessimistic, Your Highness, but dictating the direction of the KungsArmé is within your remit as Prince, and not within mine as Speaker of the Riketsråd. May I ask your reasoning?" Asked Vévoda Kolowrat.

"War may come before any of us are ready. This doesn't leave this room, but there are events occurring within the Rimward Periphery that might just dictate the outbreak of War in the Inner Sphere. I've been speaking with the Archon about evidence uncovered that shows the Capellans and possibly the Combine as well are both aiding the Aurigan Directorate in the Aurigan Civil War, and both Lyran Intelligence and my own Ministry of the Interior have agreed the analysis is genuine. Combined with the moves that we've been making in the Rimward Periphery, along with the Lyrans and the FedSuns, and that section of the Periphery is a powder keg waiting to explode. When it does, it may suck all of us into war with it." I warned.

"I see. Tyr hadn't been looking in that direction. We've been preoccupied with the Combine and never thought to look to the Rimward Periphery or the Capellans." Frowned Vévoda Kolowrat.

"I trust I can count on your discretion about this? We can't have the information leak to third parties before we're actually ready to do something about it, after all." I intoned.

"Of course, Your Highness. However, you may wish to bring this information before the Riketsråd intelligence committee before too long. I would be glad to act as an intermediary if you need." Offered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Good. I'll let you know when we have all our ducks in a row on that front, so to speak. Then I'll have you bring it to the committee." I agreed.

"Of course, Your Highness." Nodded Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Now, was there anything else?" I questioned.

"Just one more, far smaller matter, Your Highness. The Economic Synchronization Act was recently passed through the Riketsråd in a slightly modified form and is awaiting your perusal." Informed Vévoda Kolowrat, handing over a data slate.

"What did they add to it this time?" I queried with a groan, taking the Dataslate.

"Nothing as bad as the last time, thankfully. Joint Exploration Rights to the Coalsack Nebula. I believe that was something you had listed as an agreeable compromise." Answered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Good. If I had to hear another quibbled complaint about the minutiae of Currency Transactions, Exchange Rates, and Customs Duties, I was going to lose it and start challenging the quibblers to duels." I grumbled, scanning the proposed document and finding everything in order. I affixed my electronic signature to the document, and the act Synching Up the Economies of Rasalhague and New Ålborg was officially signed into law.

"I think that would have been a poor idea, Your Highness." Smirked Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Possibly." I allowed.

"Well, I believe that's all for now. There are a few resolutions that the Riketsråd will be voting on in the next few sessions you may wish to familiarize yourself with, but that can be handled after your wedding." Opined Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Good. So, how do I look?" I asked, turning about and showing off the suit I would be wearing today.

"Like a Prince, Your Highness, though you may wish to straighten that bow tie a touch." Remarked Vévoda Kolowrat.

"I knew that I should have gone for a normal tie. I can never tie these things properly." I sighed, turning back to the mirror and retying the bow tie.

"Well, you'll know for the next state function, I expect. Congratulations, Your Highness." Offered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Thank you, Marek. That's very helpful." I huffed, rolling my eyes.

"Of course, Jozef. I thought so. I meant the congratulations, however. It's a big day, after all." Nodded Vévoda Kolowrat.

"And that, I do appreciate. I'll see you at the Reception. I have to go address the people from the motorcade now." I nodded.

"Try to have fun, Jozef. It's not every day a man gets married, much less a Prince." Offered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"Speaking from experience, Marek?" I questioned.

"Of course. When my Marta and I got married, you wouldn't believe the hassle that we had to go through. This was back during the Occupation, mind you, so everything had an extra layer of secrecy to it. The ISF would generally crack down on any large gathering where important personages could possibly gather to talk treason, after all. I found I could only get through it all by snatching a few moments of happiness through all the trouble." Answered Vévoda Kolowrat.

"I don't think the ISF will be a problem today, do you, Marek?" I queried with a smirk.

"It's unlikely, Jozef. You never know with the Combine, though, do you?" Asked Vévoda Kolowrat with a chuckle.

"Well, if they do attempt something, I should hope the Security Forces leave a few assassins for me. It would be just the thing to break up the monotony of meeting with various dignitaries I've never met before in my life, just to be congratulated on my marriage." I grinned.

That got a laugh from Vévoda Kolowrat. I finished straightening up my bow tie and headed out of my Apartments in the Prince's Palace. Susie had gotten dressed an hour ago and was already waiting for me by the motor pool, a bottle of Julmust Soda in one hand, even as the attendants who were ever-present around the Prince's Palace fretted over her possibly spilling on herself and staining her dress. It was a silk thing of baby blue and red, signifying that Susie was a princess of both Rasalhague and New Ålborg. Honestly, I was pretty sure the Symbolism was lost on my Kid Sister, whose face lit up as she saw me approach.

"Finally! I thought you'd be stuck up there the whole day!" Groused Susie.

"What? And leave you to deal with this whole thing all on your own? Never. I don't think I'd ever hear the end of it if I tried that." I chuckled.

"Damn straight you wouldn't." Affirmed Susie.

And with that, I turned to my driver for the day, Agent Veluri, who had apparently specifically requested this duty from his superiors in the Ministry of the Interior. Honestly, I'd rather it be him than some new Agent, if I were being honest. He and I had an established rapport, after all. I nodded at Agent Veluri before speaking.

"Are we ready, Bikram?" I questioned.

"Just about, My Lord. Your Highness, I mean. Sorry, still getting used to the Rasalhague Style." Nodded Agent Veluri.

"You did nothing wrong. Why are you apologizing?" I queried.

"Protocol, Your Highness. I was instructed to keep to it. Strictly." Answered Agent Veluri.

"Let me guess, Minister Simowitz warned you to stick to protocol because he doesn't want the Ministry of the Interior to look bad in front of the Rasalhague Security Forces?" I asked.

"Yes, Your Highness." Nodded Agent Veluri.

"That seems about right. Ever since you gave him the business after Von Strang's World, he's been doing a lot more ass-covering than usual." Scoffed Susie.

"Language. We're supposed to be setting an example today, Squirt." I pointed out.

"Don't call me squirt, and I'll lay off talking like a Pirate for a bit." Demanded Susie.

"Deal." I agreed.

"The Princess isn't wrong, though." Sighed Agent Veluri.

"Well then, today's your lucky day, because I'm giving you the opposite order. Informality is going to be something I'm going to want from you every now and again, Bikram. After all, I'm going to be meeting a lot of dignitaries today. There's going to be a lot of formal protocol already. I don't need more from my security detail, too, so consider Minister Simowitz's order for strict protocol countermanded." I smirked.

"Noted. Thanks." Grinned Agent Veluri.

"He gets to drop protocol, but I don't? What a rip-off!" Grumbled Susie.

"He's not a Princess of Rasalhague." I insisted.

"Still." Griped Susie.

Before I could say anything, however, the groundcar that Susie and I were going to be taking to the Cathedral of Saint Magnus the Martyr for the actual ceremony pulled up. I hadn't cared too much about having a big religious wedding, since I wasn't exactly religious myself, nor was Katrina, but Katrina and I had been convinced to have one for the optics. So we would be having one in the Cathedral of Saint Magnus the Martyr, since he was a saint in both the Catholic Church, which my Father had been a member of, and the Anglican Church, which Katrina's father was a member of. He was also a Saint of the Churches of Norway and Sweden, which were widespread in Rasalhague.

As we got into the specially modified groundcar and Agent Velluri pulled away out of the Prince's Palace Motor Pool, I couldn't help be be a bit in awe of the organization it had taken to get this all together so quickly. I had organized entire interstellar invasions myself, and this was still more impressive to my mind. As we pulled onto the street, joining the procession heading to the Cathedral, Susie and I waved to the people. The streets of Reykjavik were thronging with well-wishers from Rasalhague. Crowd control alone would have been an undertaking, but my procession was one of two. Katrina was making her way through the city to the Cathedral from the other side of the city simultaneously, which required another feat of organization on top of crowd control. Then there was the veritable army of caterers, janitorial services, decorators, security forces, and diplomatic personnel that had to be retained to make everything else happen, and honestly, it was all a major undertaking.

It was still worth it, though. As members of First, Second, and Third Guards rolled through the streets, escorting my groundcar and soaking in the adulation, I couldn't help but remind myself exactly how much that was the case. Smiling and waving, the procession rolled through the streets on the way to the Cathedral of Saint Magnus the Martyr for our weird, amalgamated rite, ceremony, which would supposedly help with optics. The people cheered as we passed by, and it felt good to know that the people had my back, even if I was largely ruling at a remove from the overwhelming majority of them. It seemed to warm my heart, as corny as that sounded.

After an hour of slowly proceeding through the streets of Reykjavik and waving to the people, soaking in their cheers and basking in the glow of being a popular monarch, we pulled up to the Cathedral of Saint Magnus the Martyr. The Baroque architecture of the Cathedral was meant to invoke feelings of pride. After all, it had been built in the years since Rasalhague had gained its independence after the original had been destroyed in the fighting of the Third Succession War. That something so beautiful could be built in so short a time was definitely a thing to be proud of, after all. It said something about the people of Rasalhague. Today had been full of good feelings, and as I entered the Cathedral and the ceremony began, I knew those feelings would only intensify.

Looking out at the assembled dignitaries, I noticed that Melissa Steiner was here, representing our allies in the Lyran Commonwealth, as were all my Baronial Council. I also saw Kenneth McCabe, the President of the Planetary Council of Detroit, Lord Mayor Maxine Ranier of Rockwellawan, and Duke Seyn Min of Manthraka as well, all taking a break from the ongoing negotiations over the form that the government of the Rimward Federative Council would take to help celebrate my marriage. Even our trade partners in the Outworlds Alliance had sent Marshal of the Avellar Guard Maurice Avellar, nephew of the President of the Executive Parliament of the Outworlds Alliance, Neil Avellar the Second, as a representative. The most surprising attendee was Morgan Hasek-Davion, the First Prince of the Federated Suns, Hanse Davion, likely as part of Hanse's recent strategy of making Morgan more visible within the political workings of the Federated Suns.

Even the snub from the various members of the Tristar Alliance couldn't dampen my mood. Of course, the Capellans, Combine, and Free Worlds League couldn't not send a representative. They could, however, send one that was so far down the list of positions that it was an effective snub without actually avoiding the Wedding altogether. The Tristar Alliance was being represented at my wedding by Isaiah Castronovis, Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Free Worlds League, Alexander Gierke, a second cousin once removed of General Bruce Gierke, Commander of the Oriente Hussars, and a member of a Martial Family with no real landholdings. I couldn't really blame them, of course. It wasn't as if we weren't hostile to them, after all. While the snub rankled, it didn't do much to dampen my mood compared to all the positive things that were happening.

However, as the organ started up and began to play the Bridal Processional, I turned my attention toward the door to see Katrina entering. She was decked out in a beautiful wedding dress of white and looked immaculate. My heart fluttered as my bride came walking down the aisle, arm-in-arm with her Father, who handed her off to me with a wink and a grin. Most of the rest of the ceremony was a blur as I couldn't believe how lucky I was to be marrying someone I loved and who loved me back. When the Priest told me that I could kiss the bride, I pulled Katrina in for a deep kiss, much to the cheering of everyone in attendance. I was married now, and that alone was worth all the snubs the Kuritas, Liaos, and Mariks wanted to throw my way.

"Wife." I grinned at Katrina, offering my arm.

"Husband." She smirked back, taking it.

"Shall we go greet our adoring public?" I questioned.

"I don't know, I kind of want you all to myself. Do you think we can manage?" Queried Katrina, an impish grin on her face.

"I think so, don't you?" I asked, my own stupid grin widening.

"If we must." Nodded Katrina.

Then together, we exited the Cathedral of Saint Magnus the Martyr and greeted the crowd assembled in Cathedral Square for the first time as Prince and Princess of Rasalhague. . .

XXXX

AN: All right, so here's the next chapter. A lot of it was wedding stuff, but some of it was continuing the thread of the Comte de Rochefort of Pomme De Terre and the other Lords of Rasalhague who are still in the Combine's Pocket. Expect them to come up again once the Fourth Succession War kicks off. However, that was just a single part of the chapter. Even though the clouds of conflict are gathering on the horizon, Jozef and Katrina are married now.

We just have one more chapter left in the First Part of this Fic. That's coming up next and will be the Wedding Reception for the Wedding of Jozef and Katrina. I'll also have a few more images out as well. Then I'm thinking of stopping to focus on my other stories for a bit before posting part two.

Stay tuned. . .