Omake: A Bridge Too Far
Growing up in the Rothschild Estate on Long Island, one would expect that the First Princess of Brittania would have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth, as if Evelyn de Brittania would let her daughter be raised with anything so gauche, it was obviously platinum. Raised and pampered by nannies and maids she grew accustomed to a life of privilege and luxury. Until the age of 14 when she attended the Franklin School of Economics she didn't realize just how pampered and notable her upbringing was. In later years Guinevere would chuckle at her foolishness for wanting to attend anonymously, as if her mother's private security guards weren't a giveaway, yet her university days gave her something of value besides a academic school of thought named after her, it taught her that money was a fulcrum through which one could move the world, and wealth on paper mattered little compared to the power those numbers gave one if used. It is why after university despite having a love of sailing and yachting after spending summers with her uncle on the New York Sound, she selected her fief more on the basis of economic potential rather than its luxuries, which would come if a locale and clientele demanded it.
Guinevere carefully crafted a public image that would suit her needs. She, not some vapid actor or model, was the chief influencer of Brittania's cultural zeitgeist. If the First Princess of Brittania snubbed you, or disdained your work, you were finished. If the First Princess wore or admired your work, you were exultant and soon nobles, and would be nobles were at your storefront. The journalists in her press pool had enormous pressure not just to stay in her good favor, but also their publisher's good favor for advertising dollars. It would likely surprise many royal watchers to know just how much Guinevere's lavish and opulent lifestyle actually cost her, the answer was none at all. Why spend money if the leading designers would simply show up at your palace, or penthouse, or yacht, or airliner and give your tailored wardrobes and accessories for free? Chanel, Kiryuin, Versace, Gabbone, the 8th Princess, all fought for her favor and damn the costs. Guinevere smirked just thinking about it while looking out at the sea, she had far more useful things to spend her Rothschild or more accurately de Brittania stipend and bank divedends on, such as rebuilding cultural sites in liberated Palestine, discretely funding polling operations of the Conservatives, donating to conservation causes (the fact that her animal of the week saved happened to correspond with whatever industry ticked her off at any given moment). Yet she did find some time to designate to her hobbies, which is why she in a pique of frivolity, petitioned to become Sea Lord of the Pacific (Atlantic was taken by one of her father's supporters from the Emblem of Blood). Of course what was mostly a ceremonial and honorary role she made the most of it, as she was wont to do. Touring shipyards, Regent of the Presidio Naval Academy, christening carriers and cruiser, earning a military commission in her off hours as a desk Admiral. Most thought she did it for the dress uniform or influence and thought little else of it, but it did allow her certain privileges. Like this as she piloted her sailing yacht behind the icebreaker of Cornwall Petroleum with a destroyer escort to the Jewel of the Arctic.
"HOIST THAT SAIL MIDSHIPMAN!" she bellowed from the bridge of her yacht, as she spun the wheel. The Maltese Falcon was an odd craft for the primary yacht of the First Princess, she could have easily afforded her own private cruise ship (she had more than enough board seats on cruise line companies to pick up something on the auction block), or gotten a military transport (there was a small destroyer group and a submarine patrolling with them), or had an electric turbine (although it did have one in case of emergencies), all that paled in comparison to one simple fact, if Guinevere de Brittania wanted to sail into Prudhoe Bay, she was damn well going to. The Midshipman and other sailors went about their task on the most bizarre ship in the Brittanian Navy that merged 21st century technology with 19th century aesthetics that followed the icebreaker lane into Prudhoe Bay. As the ship turned past the lighthouse and proceeded to the megaplex of Aurora Tower it approached one of the many docks along the coast and the refineries covered in geodesic domes decorated with signage of their company logos. Standing at the edge of one of the piers Guinevere could see her Knight of Honor waiting along with a pair of maids, a trailer, and of course a limousine with Knightmare escort. It hardly mattered that the likelihood of a terrorist attack in Prudhoe Bay was negligible, appearances must be maintained. As the First Princess saluted the Yacht's captain and disembarked she threw her cap to one of the maids, and snapped her fingers for a mirror, which the maids produced instantly.
"Get the makeup artists here Miranda." she said looking at herself in the mirror
Dame Miranda Kane, Guinevere's Knight of Honor simply nodded and spoke into the earpiece, and stood half a step behind the First Princess, "How were the seas today your highness?"
Guinevere taking off her officer's jacket tossing it to another maid "Choppy, but the wind was at our backs." and stepping into the trailer which Miranda followed. Of course the trailer was lavish even if the First Princess only used it as a changing booth, snapping her fingers the maids went to work beginning to undress the First Princess for her party tonight, and prepare her formal gown. "Well Miranda, what threats emerged while I was at sea?"
"I'd have to check with security," said Miranda sitting at the desk in the trailer, hardly a typical Knight and for years rumors swirled about her suitability for the task. Miranda wasn't military, she won a Silver Medal at the Imperial Games in fencing, but that was the limit of her martial talents. Her true talents once discovered instantly explained why Guinevere chose her. Dame Miranda Kane graduated Summa cum Laude from Harvard, pursued Graduate Studies in Corporate and International law and spent a semester in Japan and another at the Hague. Her great uncle was a High Appellate Judge, her aunt was head of the Law School at Harvard, and her own mother well... was serving 15 years in Anchorage for Evidence tampering. Miranda came from a long line of barristers and judges and... creative ways of achieving the desired outcome. Miranda may have had a rapier as part of her uniform but she defended the honor of the First Princess in legal matters with a tenacity and competence that even Sir Darlton would find commendable. Reducing Lead Counsels to tears, or getting a Duchess to embarrass herself in front of the High Court were some of her notable accomplishments, and Guinevere heartily approved as Dame Miranda proved a very profitable investment, and a cool head while Guinevere enjoyed herself at parties.
Guinevere sniffed with disdain, "Not physical security Miranda. The ones that can actually cause harm."
Her knight of honor nodded ignoring the Princess' state, it was nothing she hadn't seen before. "Your mother asked for you to make an appearance at temple in Manhattan for a fundraiser sometime this month."
The First Princess waved her hand dismissively, "Pencil something in next month. What about the by-elections?"
Her knight scrolled down her tablet, "Earl Crenshaw was able to delay the factory closure announcements until after the by-election. The Tories are expected to pick up 4 seats in the by-elections next week."
"3." Guinevere smiled, "Schneizel will defend his protege in West Boston, the fact that we made it a toss up is enough to unsettle him. Make sure the party has his young MP star in the attack ads from Vancouver to San Francisco highlighting their radical views, should galvanize the Torie proles. What of Anthony?"
Miranda adjusted her glasses and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Sir Anthony Eden is unlikely to return to the House of Commons, to say nothing of being Opposition Leader. While I've managed to arrange for his care as you requested, your physician looked over the medical reports, he will be unable to stand for next election. His seat in New Southampton will likely stay in the party. Their replacement's dossier is on your headdress" Guinevere snapped her fingers for her maid to set her headdress, as soon as it was on her head it booted up projecting a hologram in front of her. God how she loved Optical Computing sometimes. "Hmm, Not a bad looker, family connections good, and his brother is a Lord of good standing in Yellowstone. His financials look concerning." Miranda smiled in Guinevere's direction, "I did a discrete audit. He's clean, a few trips to Panama City but nothing else of note. We will have to have an IT specialist shadow him."
"Get him to pay for it." Guinevere waving her hand to dismiss the holograph. "Who's scheduled for the entourage tonight?" she commanded as Miranda brought up the pictures of the 8 planned persons for her entourage. The Royal Limousine could of course hold more, but 4 plain clothes security agents had to be inside. "Were there any responses to my last minute invites?" she looked back at Miranda.
"Prince Lelouch No. Milly Ashford Yes. Countess Marilyn Kennedy Yes. Also Cindy won't be able to attend" she said referring to one of Guinevere's regulars, "She begs your forgiveness but political nature of things. She objects to Cornwall's clubbing of baby seals, and she's over invested in Tesla Dynamic Solar right now."
Guinevere sighed, "She's out then permanently, her unilateral environmentalism has gotten in my way too often. Usual requirements to get back in: Save the Panda or something. The more powerful the political fulcrum they deliver to me the better" Miranda noted and made sure the price to get back in the First Princess' entourage was suitably high. Looking at the 3 empty spots in her entourage, "Pull up the waiting list. Rank them by net worth and public profile. No Foreigners" as the computer sorted the First Princess' spreadsheet of Brittania's social matrix. "Who is Shirley Fenette?"
Miranda adjusted her glasses to research the Fenette girl on her glasses, "Athlete, training for the Imperial Games 2020. Her agent is trying to get endorsement deals. Given the travel time there's no way she could get to Prudhoe Bay in time."
Guinevere huffed, "Limit parameters to those less than 5 hours travel time away by priority air travel." and the computer took away more people from the list. The First Princess frowned, "This is why I hate going out to the frontiers. A Baroness of Ketchikan is on the first results page instead of page twenty seven."
Miranda laughed, "Well there are plenty of high ranking nobles in Anchorage, your majesty. Some of your former colleagues in fact which we put there."
Guinevere rolled her eyes, "How very droll Miranda... Miya Hillmick? Earl Hillmick's latest consort?"
"Daughter actually. Given his own lack of heirs he formally adopted her. She's trying to boost her image profile. 6.5 million followers on Social media, sponsor of a few Imperial Games teams, been the model on the cover of a few magazines. Listed occupation is Vice President of Hospitality at Hillmick Hotels, although I'd be amazed if she showed up for work often."
Guinevere crossed her arms, "She is confirmed Hillmick's heir, not just paperwork sitting in a queue in Pendragon?"
Miranda typed away, "Yes."
Guinevere nodded, "Fine, put her on. Inform her that I wish to discuss her father's hotel chain expansion potentially. That ought to rattle her."
Miranda chuckled, "Invitation sent" Soon after in New Southampton, one Miya Hillmick was running through the Coronado-Hillmick Resort to her penthouse to prepare to fly to Purdhoe Bay, being in the First Princess' entourage would boost her follower count up to 25 million easy!
Back in Prudhoe Bay, the maids began fitting the First Princess' figure into her gown even if the main event was 6 hours away. "What are the rest of the entourage engaged with?"
Miranda coughed, "Countess Marilyn Kennedy, is signing memorabilia at the cinemaplex, the others are engaged in preparations. Heiress Millicent Ashford seems to be in the lounge of the Alec la Brittania airport."
Guinevere arched an eyebrow, "Doesn't her family have even an apartment here?"
Miranda snorted, "Given Aurora Tower, most paranoid aristocrats opted for the planned affluent residences up the mountain. Not even the First Princess of Britannia wants to commute that far to the venue, but the Ashfords don't own a manor or apartment either here or there. We are on the border of the commute zone for her." she said referring to what the nobility and wealthy called the zone. The commute zone was the maximum distance one could get by plane, and back in one day. Within that zone, there was little point getting a room off the plane, beyond it, it was recommended that you had habitation, and more than a few resorts would bend over backwards to cater to nobles... but Purdhoe was just outside the various Ashford Zones. 6 hours from Hamoa Beach, 5 hours from Pendragon, 3 from Ashfordshire Castle. To be fair if it wasn't for the Villa Borealis in Prudhoe Bay being open to any royal, Guinevere didn't even have a place in Purdhoe either, although she preferred using a 6 star hotel that would cater to her whims than a Villa that the Imperial Household would take out of her stipend.
Guinevere nodded flipping through various holographic files on the Ashford family, "Hmm... invite Miss Ashford to lunch."
The maids dressing the Princess stopped for the briefest of moments before continuing, and Miranda looked up curious if she misheard, "Lunch? Guin... Princess you don't just have Lunch with people. I recall you saying 'One does not just pop over for drinks with the First Princess of Brittania'."
The First Princess looked over to Miranda, "We are at the frontier of civilization, and one must... what is the word "slum it" with one's peers."
Miranda let the maids finish and dismissed them, once they were outside of the trailer, Miranda leaned against the desk, pausing before looking at Guinevere, "We've known each other for far too long for you to bullshit me Guinevere" If anyone else said that to the First Princess of Brittania would find their social standing decimated within the hour.
Guinevere chuckled, "Got to keep you on your toes dear. Millicent Ashford is the young heiress to the largest military contractor in Brittania, and stands to inherit the Duchy of Ashfordshire and a handful of baronies. A rare combination of a noble who is exceedingly wealthy even by nobility's standards."
Miranda scoffed, "Yes, and there are quite a few suitors trying to pursue Miss Ashford for obvious reasons. Playing Matchmaker?"
"Not remotely of interest at present, but it gives an in. I have an idea to propose to her, the Lady of War, specifically... Nome."
Miranda paused, wondering if Guinevere had partaken in some narcotics. "Nome... that piss-ant fishing town on the Seward Peninsula... Why?"
At this Guinevere began to chuckle, "Simple, everything about her screams that she doesn't want to be the Lady of War. She attends Ashford International School graduations, factory openings, her appearance at weapon demonstrations is rare. Anything but the the means of furthering Britannia's War Machine."
Miranda pinched the bridge of her nose, "and what does Nome have to do with it?"
"Surprised you don't see it Miranda, what better symbol for the Conservative party could there be, then the heiress to Brittania's leading military contractor pursuing a more conservative policy at her company? More schools, Infrastructure and cultural sites to pursue assimilation policies. Restrained Conquest." Guinevere grinned, "Nothing so mediocre for the bright eyed Ashford, she needs to be put in charge of sensitive and important infratructure projects for Britannia. Say... a bridge across the Bering Strait?"
Miranda's eyes widened, "Schneizel would blow a gasket. To say nothing of Euro-Britannia's royals"
"mhmm" said Guinevere nodding,
"It would cause a rift in wings of the Labour party"
"Now you are getting it."
"Might even be enough to trigger a general election"
"Well let's not get ahead of ourselves. We could simply direct the wayward and forlorn Ashford to a more useful vector for us. Politics is not like Chess usually after all. It assumes both sides have equal strengths and weaknesses. I find Poker is far more accurate." she grinned
"Cause you can cheat at it...It is brilliant though" said Miranda, before quirking a smile, "Finally got that monologing out of your system? This is why you couldn't hack it in law school and switched to economics. You can't resist the monologue."
"Hush you." the First Princess of Brittania waved dismissively. It was not sightly for the First Princess of Brittania to monologue like a villain from a Fleming Novel in public "Arrange the lunch"
>>>>>
Milly sat at the other end of the sumptuous meal laid out before them, when one gets called for an impromptu luncheon with the First Princess of Brittania you say yes, although she didn't think it would be just the two of them... What was Marie Antoinette up to?... looking down from the summit of the Aurora Tower, it was an impressive feat of engineering, but the unnaturalness of that view was nothing compared to being seated in an empty restaurant's noble dining room, eating a casual lunch with the First Princess of Brittania. She had a BURGER for god's sake on her plate, and the First Princess had a similar meal with garlic fries. Of course it was exclusively corn-fed Omaha Ground Beef, with artisanal lettuce and produce, and a very fresh sesame seed bun, but a burger and fries was still a burger and fries... and the First Princess had ordered a milk shake even! Milly smiled cordially and took a bite out of it. Of course it was good, although she could only imagine the five-star chef getting the chance to serve a meal to the First Princess of Brittania, and she requested a burger...
The Princess chuckled "The irony is that no one would ever believe you Miss Ashford" she said as ate a garlic fry,
Milly had to laugh, "I must admit I never thought I would have this kind of meal with the First Princess of Brittania, and thank you for getting me out of having to have lunch with Harold von Rustov. Although his father created a bastion of civilization in an otherwise frigid waste. A monument to Britannian industry and innovation as well as providing a unique opportunity to take in the desolate beauty of the arctic, potential courtship meetings are tiresome."
The Princess smiled in the direction of her knight of honor, "I may have to borrow that for my speech. I understand entirely Miss Ashford, for one such as myself, I can only either marry laterally or down, but that doesn't stop the number of courtship proposals I get each week. However it does give us a chance to talk and enjoy a respite from frivolous courtship meals."
Milly steeled herself, her grandfather taught her how to navigate royal politics after all for just such a purpose, and Guinevere did command via various levers of power the Conservatives in Brittanian Politics, to say nothing of her cultural influence. Was this just a bear hug on Ashford Conglomerate, a military base somewhere that needed her involved, or worse was she going to recommend a marriage prospect?!
Guinevere smiled graciously "I'd like to sound you out about a project that could be of vital importance to Brittania, that might interest you."
Milly outwardly was expressing interest but inwardly was wondering how to get herself out of this, "Oh?"
"Yes, although I understand it might be outside your usual bailiwick. An infrastructure project, specifically a bridge" she said taking a bite out of her burger.
"A...bridge?" replied Milly, now flummoxed by the proposal. It wasn't a military base, or military logistics project?
Guinevere nodded "Indeed, We've been trying to get the Ministry of Transportation to see the value in creating a bridge across the Bering Strait. I've noticed that Ashford does try and reach out beyond Knightmares and Military contracts, notably your academic offshoots, and some other engineering projects." She tented her fingers and held a cordial smile, "As you have been the face of Ashford on some of these I thought I would sound you out on a project of this scale."
Milly paused, she did indeed want to move Ashford Conglomerate in new directions, and Ashford securing such a large scale project would do that. Across the table behind her cordial smile, Guinevere was grinning. Bypass usual political defenses, use as much of an informal and congenial tone as possible, eat plebian junk food, strike at the weak spot of what the person actually wants, and then get them personally invested and holding the bag in case it goes belly up. In the end the young Ashford's ambitions beyond military contracts would be quite a card in her political deck. "You do seem intrigued Miss Ashford."
Milly blinked, "Oh it is a fascinating proposal, however I will have to consider certain factors before giving an answer" this is what Milly knew she wanted to do, this could be a very profitable future for Ashford Conglomerate outside of war... If only the offer didn't come from the Marie Antoinette of Pendragon. "I'm sure you understand that such a..." she paused trying to find the right words "...weighty potential investment requires me to consult with my company's managers."
Guinevere nodded easily, the girl was playing right into her hands "Of course, but I'm certain that given your astute handling of affairs for your grandfather it will present no great difficulty" keeping the pressure upon the Ashford Heiress.
Milly nodded, trying to find a way out of it, "Still I doubt I could give any sort of comprehensive report before I attend the Tunguska Conference in Euro-Brittania."
Although Milly wasn't aware of it, Guinevere had decided to move on as the situation was lost. If Milly was to attend a conference in Euro-Brittania she would doubtless learn their opinion on such a bridge. After the meal and Milly departed for her own preparations amicably, and once the young Ashford was gone Guinevere pushed away the burger with disgust.
"Step up observation on Ashford, the fact that the heiress is attending a conference without my knowledge is concerning." she ordered sending out electronic correspondence through her headdress. "Well Miranda?"
Miranda looked up from her tablet, having come to the most likely answer, "The invitation could have only come from one source... Prince Lelouch"
Guinevere was dumbfounded, and then quirked a smile and chuckled, "So young Lulu is reaching out into the world, and trying to make his own power base. "
Miranda simply shrugged, "That or make a harem." while typing away quickly to investigate the Prince further.
Guinevere shook her head, "It's incidental to his rise, and corroborates a suspicion." she snapped her fingers and Miranda slid a drink into her hand. "Get me everything I have on my half-brother and his current colleagues. I believe it's time to see how useful my half-brother may be in the future, and see if time permits my attendance at the Tunguska Conference."
"At once your highness." Miranda saluted and began to leave the Princess, and tapping out marching order to the many auditors, investigators and information brokers of the Empire. Sitting in the empty restaurant atop the world, Guinevere contemplated, "So, dear brother you see fit to get involved in the game between myself and Schneizel... Let's see if you manage to survive."
>>>>>
Author's Note:
Of course Guinevere is a penny-pinching diva extraordinaire with a penchant for manipulation and courtly intrigue if it amuses her, but she is also a Royal who is able to go toe to toe with Schneizel. Who knows what Guinevere's stats are to pull off that. Although I see her more as one who is content to pull strings from the background. What surprised me most while writing is that Guinevere down at her core is almost Sherlockian in the leaps she is able to make which kinda gives Miranda and Guinevere a sort of weird Sherlock and Watson vibe.
Oh and if people are curious
West Boston = Portland OR
New Southampton = San Diego/Tijuana
Miya Hillmick
Countess Marilyn Kennedy (no guesses as to who Count Kennedy is... it is the 1960s after all
