Treaty Proposal to Empress Catherine and I.D.

The Imperium Divinium receives the request from the most Noble Empire of Prussoia with the warmest of regards. As a fellow power on the continent, we find the prospect of more defined and friendly relations with your great nation to be of the highest priority.

As such, the Empress herself will happily respond to your call to conference with her on the above mentioned matters. We look foreword to an amiable and profitable future with you and your nation.

Salve,
Councilor Cathal Retorus, Councilor of Consuls

Catherine fidgeted with the hem of her skirt as she sat wedged in the small compartment with her belongings. Mud had caked into the train on the rough journey to Prussoia, but she had insisted on speed over luxury. Relations with Prussoia were far more important than comfort, she had insisted, and so from train to carriage they had sped with little wasted time.

From what she could see of the Capital, it was sufficiently impressive, though the midday sun warped everything in her view enough to induce nausea. She had her councilors write ahead, hoping the message to forgo the usual pomp of a state visit had been received in time. She was tired and beaten enough from her own nations internal struggle and her failed courtship. Hopefully, this meeting would bring good news.

The party, packed like as many sardines in a can, toppled from their transportation. Luggage spilled out unceremoniously as members of her staff, along with staffers from Prussoia tried to bring order to the chaos. Catherine stepped ahead of the party, taking the arm of the Captain of the Guard as escort.

The Amber Room was, fitting it’s name, a gilded architectural masterpiece. Though the light glinting off the gold did little to ease the throbbing in her temple, Catherine managed a polite smile for the guard, thanking him for his help. Recent events had certainly stripped her of the mask she often wore, but manners were a ladies' armor, and it would not do to go into negotiations without them.

Councilor Retorus to her left, was mirthfully eyeing the place up. His idle comments on the food, the hospitality, the splendor of the palace more than made up for her silent demeanor. As the entourage mulled about, the Empress unceremoniously dropped into a chair, put on her glasses, and rummaged about in her reticule for the needlepoint she had been working on. And there she waited: the ruler of a great and expansive empire, muddied and travel worn, waiting for the ruler of another great nation to spar with.

She turned then, to rummage in her bag. After a moment she withdrew a large Crystal decanter. The glass was hued a deep blue, with flecks of gold embedded in its surface. The stopper, fashioned into an Imperial Eagle, rested proudly with rubies set in each pair of eyes. A deep liquid swirled around the inside, catching the light as it did.

“May I offer you a small token of our goodwill. And as a thanks for your support. It’s hyacinth wine. Not the easiest product to make, I'm told.” With that she gingerly handed off the bottle, and sat down once again.

“I do think it’s in both of our best interests to codify strong formal relations with one another. This continent is no place for their likes to interfere. And I’ll freely admit, your nation's location bordering the Ringsea offers us both a unique bit of leverage. The threats of expansion by West Thosel Cransconia to your South, and their interference in my internal affairs proves how brazen they have become. I think it’s high time they are made to second guess their actions. To that end, I am interested to hear what we can do to secure amiable relations with another great monarch such as yourself.”

Catherine hummed, tapping her fingers lightly against the table before responding. “Yes it’s true. The Divinians are not a martial people. But they once were. In our heyday, Anneliese the Great brought the neighboring states to their knees. A great military leader. My father was no such leader. He allowed the Imperium to grow soft. I seek to correct this, and Prussoia would be of great aid. I want to reorganize my armed forces, and I think the experience of Prussoian military leadership could be the key. I’ve dissolved our fief forces but I need men of sound military knowledge to direct them. If you would be willing to aid us in this, you’ll find the Imperium Divinium to be a worthwhile ally in combat as well as in finance.”

She pulled out of the bag several sheafs of paper, and handed them over to the emperor for review. “You’ll find that once Tanysira is brought to heel, my nation could easily field 26 Million men if need be. With proper training and organization, I’d be willing to offer you more than a simple defensive alliance. I could offer you, in essence, a blank cheque.”

She laughed at her own joke before continuing. “And of course, a blank cheque in funding as well. I’ll not push you to join the DOC, given you need time to revive your economy.”

Councilor Retorus cleared his throat, clearly indicating that the Empress had been talking for far too long. He cut in abruptly. “So in short, a military alliance in exchange for Divinian Financial support and Prussoian Military advisorship. Though, as Councilor among Consuls I can think of a more long lasting way to secure our mutual interests.”

Catherine visibly reddened at the implied prospect. Retorus was certainly eager to have the line of succession settled. But she knew all too well not to appear too eager. Deflecting, she pointed back toward the papers.
“We’re in luck then. I’m told my artillery divisions did exceptionally well in the conflict in Duom. And with the exception of steel imports, our military industry is entirely self sufficient thanks to our colonial holdings. The Imperium Divinium would be more than happy to invest into suitable industrial production in Prussoia as well.”

She took a moment then to smooth down a lose strand of hair before continuing. “Of course, no repayment would be necessary so long as we can guarantee trade with one another. You would be able to consider a sizeable portion of the investment as a…dowry of sorts, if a son of Prussoia would be interested in the Divinian throne?”

Retorus took the cue, and stepped forward to present a small case. The black walnut case was about 6 inches tall, gilded with silver around the edges. The interior lid was lined with soft purple velvet to cushion the glass covering her portrait. “I thought it prudent to bring this, your majesty, in case that presumption was correct.”

Retorus took over then, to project his idea. “It’s a simpler solution than one might think, though it would require a bit of political maneuvering. Your majesties are likely more adept at that than I, but it could work. We simply allow your son to be recognized as consort of Divinium, and Catherine as consort of Prussoia. Then, legally speaking, the two nations will not be joined in a personal union under either, but are in a joint position to aid one another on the world stage. In the future, once heirs have been born, we simply secure one on the throne of Prussoia and have another elected to the Divinian throne. Thus, we avoid a total merger, but secure a strong familial bond for at least 2 generations.”

Catherine interjected before her Councilor could press the issue, as he clearly intended to do. “Thank you sir, I would appreciate some respite after the travel here. And I would be delighted to tour the grounds if I may? Rare are my opportunities to travel abroad. Rarer still to find a host that doesn’t wish to stick a blade between my ribs.” She smiled grimly at the joke, preferring not to weigh the truth of the statement too much.

“Councilor Retorus is one of my most trusted advisors. I’m confident he will be able to answer for any specifications of our arrangement if need be in the interim.”

Catherine had almost immediately gotten lost. It was easy enough to find her way out of the grand rooms following behind her aide, but the lady had enough courtesy to wait behind as she left the building. She chose a direction away from the brightest parts of the city for her purposes, and tromped unceremoniously through the grass until she felt it was an appropriate enough distance to breathe without worrying if her next move would topple the entire deal. Involuntarily she threw her arm up, releasing the owl that had been angrily perched on her gloved hand (when had she even removed him from his carrier?). As he flew off in search of his prey, the empress dropped lazily into the grass, now damp with evening dew.

It didn’t really matter whether or not she knew where she was or how to get back. Surely some Prussoian guard or some such would be sent to fetch her eventually. Which was exactly what she was hoping for. A chance to get a feel for these potential allies without the doldrum of diplomacy getting in the way.