It had been a long time since Eleanor had gone home. She wondered what her country was like. Did her people still eat the same food, speak the same language, feel the same serenity as they looked into Lake Lambertus or the same energy when they explored the great city, Sani Bursil?
She wanted to be flawless, to be just as much Staynish as Oan. She knew that her husband and the Oan royal court, would be out of place. The manners and protocol would be stiff and visibly uncomfortable. She knew that there would be gossip. Gossip that she had turned on her people, gossip that she distanced herself and her children, gossip that she stayed in spite of his infidelity, gossip that she was not truly of her own people, that she was like any of the other foreigners.
She thought that shifting from the Oan to the Staynish royal courts would be like riding a bicycle after some time. She was wrong. She forgot certain words or failed to put together certain phrases or understand certain idioms. She employed an instructor to help her. Her tongue struggled around the sounds.
She practiced “Gott kvöld, hátign þín” for several minutes. She constantly weighed whether or not to call Lambertus hátign þín (your majesty) or frændi (cousin). She wanted to be warm and welcoming, but not too forward or familiar.
“I tikatikanahile ro kitimisa wawiwa! I ratāo u ku kita, kita, luēna u a tele!”, she said.
Her aide was rather surprised her uncharacteristic behaviour. She was always graceful, calm and patient, tolerant, kind and wise. She was a free thinker who let no one control her emotions, but it was clear that this situation was able to change that. She looked at herself. Age had finally caught up to her. Her wrinkled seemed to be engraved onto her face. Her weight had fallen to her rear. Liver spots gradually formed on her hands. She was no longer young. She did not believe that she was held up loftily by the Staynish court anymore. She had a new people now, who called her “ma” (mother). Who called her, Her Serene Highness, the Serene Consort, “the sheltering tree, nestled in the curl of its root are the dreams and spirit of the nation. The demure flower that carrieth grace loftily upon petals of silk, and marrieth aspiration and resource, endeavour and ability. The mother of the nation”. She was the mother of the nation, the Oan nation, and the Staynish court, would have to accept her as she was.
She said, "I will greet him as thus, ‘Kia ora, loanāma’ ".
Her protocol aide smiled.
[hr]
Preparations to leave were completed. Ese Ulua was accompanied by his wife, his son and his daughter-in-law. Aides, advisors and staff carried heavy files and books, reports and documents luggage and other items. In light of the financial difficulties of the nation as a whole and its uncertain economic future, they travelled fairly light, and tried their best to make their presence as unostentatious as possible.
They landed in Sani Bursil. They arrived to a guard of honour. Staynish soldiers lined the red carpet like sentinels. They were greeted by senior government officials and members of the Staynish royal family. Some pleasantries were exchanged, until they were ferried by a motorcade to their lodgings, a hotel or state residence for visiting dignitaries. Upon arrival, they were saluted and went inside.
They met members of the royal family mostly. Quaint laughs were exchanged, they were introduced to various members of the royal court. Eleanor was surprised that her accent had not leavened significantly since leaving Staynes, and she was glad that her Staynish was good. Ese Ulua was surprisingly more comfortable than one would expect. Eleanor, however, was the star. She met old friends, colleagues and cousins she had not seen. She proudly introduced her Oan family to her Staynish one. Codexian managed to bridge some of the language barriers.
“Þetta er maðurinn minn, sonur minn og tengdadóttir mín”, she said.
“Það er ánægjulegt að hitta hátignina þína”, replied a cousin or uncle.
She was surprised by how much the formalities of the Staynish royal court had been diluted: curtsies and bows were slight, the language while still impeccable was informal. Perhaps it was because she had become accustomed to the strict rules of the Oan royal court. She was glad that no major faux pas had occured. They still kissed her hand instead of shake it, which would be a blunder in the extreme. Ese was more uncomfortable with the Staynish handshake, but he adapted quickly. Lambertus had been too busy to greet them, but sent his wife and son to greet them on his behalf.
After enjoying tea, they went to their lodgings to freshen up. Ese Ulua elected to meet his fellow heads of state as they arrived in more informal settings, gaining their trust and building a bond, discussing anything that didn’t have to do with politics: sport, culture, family dynamics and cross-culture affairs. Many were surprised and came to respect his energy, warmth and humility to ask questions. His wife was enjoying every second of being at the Sani Bursil Royal Palace. It was bigger than the Serene Palace in the Oan Isles, and the architecture was vastly different. It was familiar.
The time for the meeting was steadily arriving. When formal talks began, she planned to take full advantage of the trip, and shopping at the affluent original Sani Bursil part of the city with her daughter in law, was a priority.
