Pronoia, Elysium
August 16th, 1866
King Gerogios II leaned back in his chair and grinned. What a
decade this had been. What a
reign his was. Since the great war that had given him Vinland, everything had gone according to plan.
The economy, ever booming.
Nordhafsvedr submitting to direct rule in late 1859.
Ah, yes. The economy again. Elysium was a favored people.
His people.
His. And it was protected – more than ever – from the increased navy and army that
his reign had given Elysium the resources to handle.
Urbanization continued. Population boomed.
And now Vinland had been incorporated into the realm. Not peacefully, but by force. Again.
No matter. Vinland was
his. Nordhafsvedr was
his. And, thus: North America, all the empty lands up north, no longer claimed by anyone, was
his. Elysium’s.
His.
His was a multiethnic, multireligious empire. Prosperous. Mighty. With
him at the helm.
Even his disgrace of some children could not ruin his day. Not today. Nothing could.
He was started by a quick knock on the door.
His aide.
He looked irritated, yet quizzically on the young man.
The aide swallowed.
“Sir. Vinland has risen in revolt. We are at war.”