Chapter 16

“I don’t know why you didn’t just let me meet them,” Desiree complained once again.

We were sitting in the limo waiting for the royal jet to taxi from the runway. I had insisted that I meet the plane carrying Jordan and the twins from the U.S. for the coronation that was scheduled to happen just two days from now. Originally the jet had been sent for only Jordan. She had called and asked if the Bianchi sisters could bum a ride when she found out they were in New York on a shoot.

“You know I would have met Jessica and Emily even if they had come in on a regular charter flight?” I said.

“That might not be a good idea unless you intend to court them,” Desiree said, always the consummate politician.

There had been extensive negotiations about who would stay where. I wanted them in the consort suite. Cecelia claimed that was premature, particularly with Allison Black coming to visit in just six weeks. Desiree agreed with her, and so the twins would be staying in their own villa while in Mariner.

Jordan would be staying at the palace, but in guest quarters. The consort suite would be empty this week.

The partition was down, but Bianca was outside, leaving our conversation private.

“How nervous do I need to be?” I asked

“We’ve got it under control,” my security chief assured me, carrying out our original conversation. The one about hacking. “Someone has systematically tried to get into the streaming servers we’ll be using to cast the coronation. As you know the international news services will be carrying it, but probably only highlights. There are Mariner subjects who want to be able to see it all the way through in real time.”

“The university program students,” I said.

“Yes, and certain Mariner expatriates living in Europe and North America. We thought our systems were pretty secure, but our best people are still concerned.”

“As they should be. We have to be right one hundred percent of the time. The hackers only have to find an exploit once.”

Desiree looked distracted and I realized she was getting communication through her earbud.

“Here they come,” she said.

Bianca opened the limo door and I saw the jet taxing up to its embarkation spot. I heard the engines wind down and saw the door opening. Holly extended the steps and I saw a lovely figure start down them.

The temperature was in the teens (forties for those still using Fahrenheit) and the twin was wearing an open down jacket. She was still too far away for me to see who it was. The identical girl behind her was wearing the same jacket in a different color. I saw Jordan standing in the door talking to Holly. She gave her a kiss and started down the stairs.

When she saw me the first twin started running to me. When she got close enough I saw that it was Emily.

“Em welcome back home,” I said kissing her.

We felt arms around us as we broke the kiss and I saw that Jessica had pulled us both into a hug.

“I never get tired of you being able to do that,” Emily said. Her sister released us and touched my cheek so that she could pull me into a kiss of her own.

When we broke she said, “Wait until you see what we’ve got to wear to the ball.”

“Yeah I don’t expect either dress to survive their revelation,” Emily said.

“Unhand my brother, you sneaky harlots,” Jordan said from behind them.

Both girls laughed but let me go so Jordan could reach me. My sister cum cousin laid a kiss on me every bit as hot as either twin.

“Ms. Ormond,” Emily said to Desiree.

“Ms. Bianchi. Welcome back to Mariner.”

“Why thank you,” Jessica answered, doing their twin thing.

“Do you need a ride girls?” I asked.

“No...”

“Thank you...”

“Your Highness...”

“We have...”

“A car waiting.”

They said alternating their answer. Jordan guffawed and Desiree smiled. Jessica and then Emily each gave me a kiss on the cheek and headed back to the plane to get their luggage.

“They’re really something aren’t they?” Jordan said as we both watched their swiveling hips as they walked away.

Bianca and one of the security guards got Jordan’s bags in the Roll’s trunk and then the three of us climbed in. As soon as Bianca got to her seat she raised the partition. There was only a lead car today and she followed as it exited Princess Eleonora Field.

“So are you looking forward to the coronation?” Jordan asked.

“About as much as a groom is to their wedding. With excitement and abject terror.”

“I don’t know many brides would expect that from their grooms.”

“They haven’t talked to as many grooms as I have, I guess,” I replied.

“So how does this coronation thing all work?” Jordan asked. “As a newly minted Mariner subject I’d like to know.”

I must have looked surprised because Desiree said, “She has dual citizenship. It’s the least we could do for the hero that kept our prince safe during his time of hiding.”

Jordan blushed.

“It all starts with the Procession. We ride to St. Candidus Cathedral where the ceremony takes place. I’ll be in the Carriage of State with the Regent. You will have your own carriage as a special family member. You’ll be followed by the heads of the peerage, each with their own carriage. The coaches are preceded by the head of the Mariner armed forces. They’ll be on horseback.

“When we reach the Cathedral we will enter. You and the other guests first and me last. The bishop will say the opening prayer. I’ll proceed to the coronation throne. Then he’ll anoint me. I’ll take the oath of office. He crowns me. I receive the Sword of State, the Armillis, the Prince’s Seal, which is the ring of office, and the seal of state, which I pass to the Prime Minister. Then the bishop says the benediction. Afterward the three counts offer their fealty, in the name of the peerage, the prime minister, in the name of the bureaucracy, and if I had a spouse they would be crowned.

“Then I process out and we get ready for the afterparty.”

“I would hardly call the Coronation Ball an afterparty,” Desiree said.

“Coronation orgy you mean,” I said. “At least they’ve done away with the tradition deflowering of the virgin before the coronation.”

“You’re joking,” Jordan said.

I shook my head. “Until the nineteenth century the ceremony started with the deflowering of a virgin at the palace before the procession.”

“Now we do a ceremonial deflowering at the ball,” Desiree said.

“Ceremonial as it’s not really a virgin?” Jordan asked.

“Well yes,” I said. “Finding a Mariner virgin over the age of fourteen has become a real challenge, I hear. So instead, a prominent young woman is chosen to be symbolically deflowered.”

“Sounds kinky,” my near sister said.

“Jordan you have no idea. I’m not sure you’re ready for what will happen at the ball.”

“Well since it starts with a ceremonial deflowering and you just called it an orgy, I’m pretty sure I have a good idea of what it’s going to be like.”

“You look positively regal, Your Highness,” Allen said.

We were in my rooms and he had just helped me slip into my coronation outfit. It was a uniform of Mariner blue. Unlike the tearaway outfit that I had worn to my coming out party and the one I would wear tonight at the Coronation Ball this was a real uniform. It had only one medal, the Star of Mariner which the House of Lords had bestrode on me shortly after my introduction, in honor of my being alive, I suppose.

The lighter blue trousers had a stripe of dark Mariner blue along the outer seam. The jacket hung to my thighs and was belted by a broad black belt with a large buckle. On the buckle was an enameled crest of the House of Riogati. The trousers were stuffed in high black boots. Fringed gold epaulets decorated the shoulders, a silver crown embroidered on them. A gold aiguillette hung from the left epaulet and was connected by a loop to the second button of my high collar jacket. Collar tabs on my jacket bore the Crest of Mariner. There was no uniform cap, because soon I would wear the Orvis Crown.

There was a tap on the door. Allen went to answer it.

“Your Highness,” Desiree said. “The carriage awaits.”

Desiree was in uniform. She wore slacks. Her uniform was Mariner blue like mine, but the cut was different, much more modern. Instead of epaulets she had shoulder flaps and there were three gold pips pinned to each shoulder. A pair of weapons hung from her wide black belt. A dagger on her right and a pistol, in a flapped holster on her front left, so it could be drawn by her right hand. A white cord went from her shoulder to her pistol. She wore a peaked hat, the crest of Mariner on it. Instead of high boots she wore half boots with two inch heels.

In the entrance hall we met my mother, Princess Dowager Cecelia Margret Winthrope Riogati, Regent of Mariner. She wore a white dress. To me it almost looked like a bridal gown. Embroidered on it in white thread were scenes from Mariner history. It was a one of a kind garment surely worth a princess’s ransom. She wore white strap on heels with diamonds mounted on the straps. Unlike for formal occasions I had seen her at before she wore no crown or tiara. In her hands she carried a fascis, a bundle of sticks wrapped around the two bladed Labrys axe. It was symbol that extend far back into Roman history beyond it’s bad reputation associated with the Italian Fascist party. It was the symbol of her regency, or rather of the power of her regency.

We stepped out of the doors, side by side, Desiree behind us. The plaza in front of the palace was packed with people. Security kept them back from the line of carriages. The other passengers had been picked up where ever that happened and then driven to the palace. We would be the last passengers.