Kimbell Art Palace, Duchy of Metroplex, October 2702
The Kimbell, as the building was known, was once a prestigious art museum in the heart of Fort Worth. Filled with masterpieces of artists from around the world, they and their descriptions were one of the few reliable sources of information of events before America had been torn asunder. Names like Michelanglo and Pablo Picasso, as well as many ancient cultures, were preserved as renowned artists of history, emblems of a lost time and era.
It was in this former museum that Mirabeau Lamar, Duke of the Metroplex, called home. His grandfather had moved the family’s power base from the backwaters of Sherman and Decatur to here, as this was a former great city of America. The city center was said to be like one of the great towns of the old American West, with farmers, peddlers, and merchants of all kind gathering in the Sundance Forum to barter and sell goods and services of all kinds.
Normally on such a day Mirabeau would be out inspecting the marketplace, making sure laws were being followed and thieves punished swiftly. But today was different: his wife was expecting.
He’d been married to Ada Nokona, a princess of the Comanche, at the age of sixteen, a move made by his grandfather to ensure good relations with the vas lands that those Indians controlled in former West Texas. Denton Lamar had picked his grandson’s wife well: she was shrewd, happy with her lot in life, and avoided the limelight that came with being a ruling family. However, they had some cultural difficulties early on (the Comanche may have converted to Christianity, but they were still Indians) and in their many years of marriage had had only one son, Samuel. During the rule of Mirabeau’s father George, Ada had insisted that they could have more children “when the time was right”. So Mirabeau had spent his twenties in the comforts of other women.
Including the one walking next to him. Josie was technically his half-aunt, born of his grandfather’s affair with a court widow. Josie was ten years younger than Mirabeau, although they’d been raised together and were rather inseparable. One thing a few months ago in a drunken feast had led to another and now she was his lover, a good respite from his haughty Comanche wife.
“They say the baby will be here soon,” said Mirabeau, walking past an Egyptian statue. The text that had accompanied it claimed it was well over three thousand years old.
“That’s good,” replied Josie with a smile. She’d been pushing Mirabeau to lay with Ada more often and when he could, for a ruler could always use extra children. In an age where all the achievements of medicine had been practically lost over the years, one could never be too sure.
"You know, there are days where I wish I could've made my own decisions as to who I would marry and I would choose you."
"Mirabeau, I'm flattered, but you and I both know it could never happen. I am illegitimate and would never be able to bring you an alliance of any sorts. But I am happy to comfort you and be your confidante, should you wish."
Mirabeau smiled a weak smile and sat on a bench. "By tradition, if I have a second son he would inherit the Lamar ancestral lands south of the Red River. I worry the dreams of my father and grandfather fall apart from my own bad luck."
Denton and George had grandiose dreams to restore the great state of Texas, as described in an ancient history textbook. According to it, Texas had not only been one of the greatest states in Old America, but was once an independent country. If only someone could restore this past greatness! However, the current situation was far from that, with the Comanche in control of the Panhandle and plains, and east Texas divided among several warlords, Denton Lamar ruling from a once sprawling megacity called "Metroplex". He took it upon himself to unite Texas, stockpiling money and grooming George and Mirabeau in the "Texan Dream," as it was called.
After aptly nicknamed Denton the Bold passed, George had used the wealth to make raids into Voodoo Louisiana, carving out fiefdoms along the Sabine River and handing them to loyal commanders. The family's prestige had increased tenfold when it was one of the main contributors in the Midwest Crusade, so much that the Papacy in St. Louis had decreed George's sister, dowager duchess of Arkansas, the new Queen of Chicagoland. This was a well calculated move by George, for his sister's son would become a very powerful man - and a strong ally to the Metroplex.
Compared to his forefathers, Mirabeau had a very huge pair of shoes to fill. But Josie was intent on having him stop those worrying thoughts.
"You're making a mountain out of a molehill. An extra son will not tear apart your lands by himself. And by the time you pass and Samuel inherits, the customs of this land could change. Your grandfather and father made their own luck, and so should you."
Mirabeau was thinking of something witty to say when a valet walked into the gallery. "Apologies, sir, but Duchess Ada has gone into labor. The doctors and nurses are with her now to save the children."
"Children?"
"Yes sir. She's carrying twins."
---
Several hours later, two healthy twin girls had been delivered to Mirabeau and Ada, named Pat and Cassidy. The pregnancy had gone much smoother than expected, and Ada was already busy breastfeeding them when Mirabeau got the room alone for them.
"Well done," he said with genuine appreciation. After many years of no children without Samuel, having two daughters at the same time was a relief. It helped that neither of them would be able to inherit the ancestral lands. Instead, they'd be spoiled and pampered by their parents before being married off to important young men.
"I told you we'd have more when the time was right," Ada replied, smirking. "You doubted I could carry two at the same time, didn't you?"
"Um, no." But Mirabeau wasn't very convincing. He took one of the infant girls and admired her. Cassidy had a somewhat lighter complexion than her sister Pat, who'd been born first by ten minutes and appeared to take after the Indian half of her ancestry. But both were healthy and had survived, and that alone was a cause for relief and joy.
"Yes you did. It matters not, Mirabeau. All that matters is that our children are alive and well. Now, can Sam see his new sisters?"
"Yes, I'll fetch him." Mirabeau shook his head as he walked out to find his son and heir.
The Kimbell, as the building was known, was once a prestigious art museum in the heart of Fort Worth. Filled with masterpieces of artists from around the world, they and their descriptions were one of the few reliable sources of information of events before America had been torn asunder. Names like Michelanglo and Pablo Picasso, as well as many ancient cultures, were preserved as renowned artists of history, emblems of a lost time and era.
It was in this former museum that Mirabeau Lamar, Duke of the Metroplex, called home. His grandfather had moved the family’s power base from the backwaters of Sherman and Decatur to here, as this was a former great city of America. The city center was said to be like one of the great towns of the old American West, with farmers, peddlers, and merchants of all kind gathering in the Sundance Forum to barter and sell goods and services of all kinds.
Normally on such a day Mirabeau would be out inspecting the marketplace, making sure laws were being followed and thieves punished swiftly. But today was different: his wife was expecting.
He’d been married to Ada Nokona, a princess of the Comanche, at the age of sixteen, a move made by his grandfather to ensure good relations with the vas lands that those Indians controlled in former West Texas. Denton Lamar had picked his grandson’s wife well: she was shrewd, happy with her lot in life, and avoided the limelight that came with being a ruling family. However, they had some cultural difficulties early on (the Comanche may have converted to Christianity, but they were still Indians) and in their many years of marriage had had only one son, Samuel. During the rule of Mirabeau’s father George, Ada had insisted that they could have more children “when the time was right”. So Mirabeau had spent his twenties in the comforts of other women.
Including the one walking next to him. Josie was technically his half-aunt, born of his grandfather’s affair with a court widow. Josie was ten years younger than Mirabeau, although they’d been raised together and were rather inseparable. One thing a few months ago in a drunken feast had led to another and now she was his lover, a good respite from his haughty Comanche wife.
“They say the baby will be here soon,” said Mirabeau, walking past an Egyptian statue. The text that had accompanied it claimed it was well over three thousand years old.
“That’s good,” replied Josie with a smile. She’d been pushing Mirabeau to lay with Ada more often and when he could, for a ruler could always use extra children. In an age where all the achievements of medicine had been practically lost over the years, one could never be too sure.
"You know, there are days where I wish I could've made my own decisions as to who I would marry and I would choose you."
"Mirabeau, I'm flattered, but you and I both know it could never happen. I am illegitimate and would never be able to bring you an alliance of any sorts. But I am happy to comfort you and be your confidante, should you wish."
Mirabeau smiled a weak smile and sat on a bench. "By tradition, if I have a second son he would inherit the Lamar ancestral lands south of the Red River. I worry the dreams of my father and grandfather fall apart from my own bad luck."
Denton and George had grandiose dreams to restore the great state of Texas, as described in an ancient history textbook. According to it, Texas had not only been one of the greatest states in Old America, but was once an independent country. If only someone could restore this past greatness! However, the current situation was far from that, with the Comanche in control of the Panhandle and plains, and east Texas divided among several warlords, Denton Lamar ruling from a once sprawling megacity called "Metroplex". He took it upon himself to unite Texas, stockpiling money and grooming George and Mirabeau in the "Texan Dream," as it was called.
After aptly nicknamed Denton the Bold passed, George had used the wealth to make raids into Voodoo Louisiana, carving out fiefdoms along the Sabine River and handing them to loyal commanders. The family's prestige had increased tenfold when it was one of the main contributors in the Midwest Crusade, so much that the Papacy in St. Louis had decreed George's sister, dowager duchess of Arkansas, the new Queen of Chicagoland. This was a well calculated move by George, for his sister's son would become a very powerful man - and a strong ally to the Metroplex.
Compared to his forefathers, Mirabeau had a very huge pair of shoes to fill. But Josie was intent on having him stop those worrying thoughts.
"You're making a mountain out of a molehill. An extra son will not tear apart your lands by himself. And by the time you pass and Samuel inherits, the customs of this land could change. Your grandfather and father made their own luck, and so should you."
Mirabeau was thinking of something witty to say when a valet walked into the gallery. "Apologies, sir, but Duchess Ada has gone into labor. The doctors and nurses are with her now to save the children."
"Children?"
"Yes sir. She's carrying twins."
---
Several hours later, two healthy twin girls had been delivered to Mirabeau and Ada, named Pat and Cassidy. The pregnancy had gone much smoother than expected, and Ada was already busy breastfeeding them when Mirabeau got the room alone for them.
"Well done," he said with genuine appreciation. After many years of no children without Samuel, having two daughters at the same time was a relief. It helped that neither of them would be able to inherit the ancestral lands. Instead, they'd be spoiled and pampered by their parents before being married off to important young men.
"I told you we'd have more when the time was right," Ada replied, smirking. "You doubted I could carry two at the same time, didn't you?"
"Um, no." But Mirabeau wasn't very convincing. He took one of the infant girls and admired her. Cassidy had a somewhat lighter complexion than her sister Pat, who'd been born first by ten minutes and appeared to take after the Indian half of her ancestry. But both were healthy and had survived, and that alone was a cause for relief and joy.
"Yes you did. It matters not, Mirabeau. All that matters is that our children are alive and well. Now, can Sam see his new sisters?"
"Yes, I'll fetch him." Mirabeau shook his head as he walked out to find his son and heir.
.
