… The National Police has announced an end to overnight civil unrest in Leidenstad and proclaimed the capital’s streets secure. While the precise cause of the riots remains uncertain, it appears that they were centered around the Torvieska Workers Barracks which house hundreds of guest workers.
Experts have warned that these low-wage workers are the most at risk from the rapidly climbing food prices of the past weeks, particularly as regular social safety nets are unavailable to them.
The National Police report indicates that only light injuries were sustained by rioters with no officers hurt. Over a hundred arrests have thus far been recorded, with active searches continuing throughout the city.
“We regret to say that in last night’s operation to restore safety and security to the streets of Leidenstad, the National Police was forced to deploy malodorant compounds against violent groups in the Torvieska District. Any miscreants who partook in the destabilization of our fair city will be easily noticeable for several days and as such we urge all citizens to provide any information on sightings or the whereabouts of criminal suspects at our non-emergency 311 line,” a police spokesperson said in this morning’s press release, “The National Police understands that many of our citizens are facing difficult times, but we must further reiterate our that destabilizing and antisocial actions not be tolerated, and perpetrators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.”
In light of the events at the barracks, Councilmember Aidyn Iliyasov, who represents the Torvieska District, has taken up calls for direct government aid to guest workers residing in the city.
“We must come to terms with the reality that today, many of the essential functions in this city rely upon poorly paid workers who frequently struggle to make ends meet. That they are unable to even afford to eat is unacceptable, and enforcement actions alone cannot restore stability so long as people remain hungry,” Iliyasov said in an address to the Leidenstad Council.
- CNN Broadcast on September 30, 2002
Karsholm Palace, Leidenstad
2002
Helena felt half-dead on her feet by the time she arrived at the Cabinet Lounge, and she knew the worst part of her day was just about to begin.
It was perhaps a bit ironic that for a place where cabinet members were meant to relax, she found this the least relaxing place in the entire palace. The regular cabinet meetings - Those were structured, recorded, carefully planned to the minute. On good days you knew exactly what everyone would say before they even opened their mouths, and everyone knew they were on the job.
But in here? There was none of that, and the snakes could play freely. Alas, the games they played required that she be here as well - It was never good to be absent from these discussions. Tonight though? Tonight she was truly required to be present.
It was Bekännelsekväll.
“Ah, Minister Reitz,” Marlberg said pleasantly from an armchair by the coffee table. He waved her over to an empty one beside him, “Please, do sit, you seem like you could use it.”
It would have been rude to decline, and for all that her appointment remained a matter of pure convenience, she still needed the Prime Minister’s goodwill - as much as he could muster anyways. Reitz took the seat.
“You are not wrong,” she offered a humorless smile, “I have been working, you see.”
“As have we all, surely,” Marburg responded. He glanced around the lounge, where other Ministers were arriving in their ones and twos.
“Aye, no doubt. But for me it is a more direct case of life or death,” Helena said drily, “We still have expatriates caught in Charlottesborg, and the Duchy has had its border sealed for weeks now.”
“The Duchess is your sister, is she not?” Marlberg asked meaningfully.
For that, Helena had to scoff, “If you are looking for familial love to win the day, Prime Minister, I fear you may be disappointed. But I have spoken to Louisa - It’s what worries me. She’s slipping, I think. Fears a coup brewing in the Ducal Guard, and personally, I don’t think she’s entirely wrong.”
It felt wretched to speak of family like this, but that came with the job. Even so, Helena had to lower her voice as she continued.
“I worry she might seek to shore up her position by demanding concessions from us in exchange for getting our people out.”
“That is a hostage situation,” Marlberg’s eyes narrowed, “It would be unacceptable to acquiesce.”
“Deeply so,” Helena agreed, “She may again not be entirely wrong though. There are… connected people stuck down there. The University of Charlottesborg has had exchange programs with our own institutions for over a century now, and the Duchy has always been a popular destination for expatriates.”
“Shit,” Marlberg muttered, “How connected?”
“Erik Palme, Turlan Tynam, Adeline Widfross… do I need to go on?” Helena demanded, “There are apparently a great many families who know exactly which number to call to reach my office and I have been hearing from them damn near hourly at this point.”
“That’s plenty,” the Prime Minister grimaced, “Bloody hells Reitz, these should have been the first people to get out. We should have gotten them out.”
“You think I do not know this?” Helena snapped, loudly enough to turn some heads. She composed herself, and continued, “Some did not wish to come - Charlottesborg may as well be home, and more than that everyone assumed it was a safe place regardless. Others had family without citizenship - Oh, yes, are you unaware that the Foreign Ministry cannot arrange the evacuation of non-citizens without the immigration ministry’s approval? Something I have been requesting for weeks now without any bloody response because apparently everyone’s too busy shitting themselves silly over an imagined refugee crisis? And personally, I don’t know who more fucking braindead at this point, the ones who decided to stick around on the mainland or us for not having a goddamned-”
“Minister,” Marlberg said calmly, raising a hand to stop her, “I have every confidence that you are doing your utmost to protect our citizens. Aleardo has just now taken up his post at the Immigration Ministry, and he will see to it that you get everything you need. I will request this of him myself… Isn’t that right Aleardo?” the Prime Minster asked aloud.
“It is my highest priority,” the Immigration Minister responded from across the room, “Everything will be in place for you by tomorrow, Minister.”
Helena nodded stiffly as Marlberg settled back in his seat, clearly pleased at the response.
“There, you see? It will be done,” he said, “Do what you can to convince the Duchess to open her borders for us. We can’t allow ourselves to be abused in this manner - I’ll speak to her myself if you need someone to play the bad cop. I’m more worried that the CID has not informed me of trouble among the Ducal Guard.”
“I’m sure they will in good time,” Helena said, “I have contacts they do not - This is very nearly my homeland, after all.”
And that is why I am still kept around, is it not?
“That it is,” Marlberg agreed, “We will speak more of this in private. Problems there mean problems here.”
The last stragglers had arrived in the lounge, and one other followed in their footsteps. A flurry of dark robes and light glinting off a reflective mask - A priest of Ademar. In his hands, a basket.
Marlberg clapped his hands and stood, “Well, ladies and gentlemen,” he said pleasantly, “It is Bekännelsekväll. I trust you will all be kind!”
So saying, he retreated to the other end of the room and busied himself with a coffee machine.
Bekännelsekväll - A tradition far older than the Cabinet itself. The Kingdom too, by all accounts. In the days of old sailors would be given one night to speak their minds to a priest who would later repeat their words in anonymity for Captain and crew to hear. It was perhaps one of the few truly honest accountings any leader would receive, without fear of reprisal by the speaker. The tradition persisted in Karsholm, where each newly appointed Government held the ceremony once after its initiation.
The priest was making his way around the room, collecting written notes. Suddenly, the basket was thrust in front of her, and Helena looked up to see her distorted reflection in the expressionless face of Ademar Himself. Her note slipped through her fingers to join the others.
Almost immediately she regretted it - It was not a wise thing she had written, but rather one born out of the fear and frustration that came from weeks of howling into the void of the Immigration Ministry or consoling panicked families.
Or discovering my sister’s found her calling as a fucking warlord.
It was too late now though. Marlberg returned to the circle, and the priest began his reading. Hers first.
“None of you are nearly as frightened as you should be.”