The Princes were summoned to Council. Blaine had to regretfully leave Olivia's side (he'd found her strangely subdued after Carmine had left her room) in order to attend. Olivia was still too weak and in too much pain to get out of bed, although the salve was working wonders. Blaine would have said miracles if he had believed in them.

Carmine had stopped him and asked him a rather odd question.

"Have you ever beaten Olivia?"

And Blaine, bewildered, had warily replied, "At what?"

But Carmine, striding off to get to the Council meeting ahead of everyone else, since he was chairing, didn't have time to answer. His expression had been quite priceless, however.

The first part of the meeting would be the investiture of Wilhelm as Prince of Germany. A mere formality, in this case, since there were no other candidates and Germany was too important to leave Princeless, but a formality fraught with meaning and power.

Magic made a Prince. Only Hans, the most senior Prince, knew the full secret behind the creation of the Council, and he would not reveal what he knew even under mild torture. He was the only Prince who knew the identity of the magician (or witch or wizard) who created the artifacts, who had written the ceremony, who had imbued the members of the Council with the powers that made them Princes. Only he knew why this mysterious magic-user had done this. And he wasn't saying.

Blaine couldn't blame Hans for that.

As senior Prince, and the only one in the full know, Hans always conducted the investiture ceremonies. If Hans was ever killed or died, or if he abdicated, Blaine wondered if the Council would just dry up and blow away or if the mysterious force behind it all would select another Prince to let in on the secret. The truly frightening thought there was that Rodrigo was the next most senior Prince to Hans.

As he walked along, pondering this unhappy thought, Blaine caught sight of Gen, kissing Jean adieu in the corridor. Jean would not be permitted into the ceremony. Blaine smiled to see the pirate obviously in good spirits: although his hair had been cut rather brutally short and his van Dyke beard and moustache were gone, Jean had his old swagger back and looked very dashing in his dress uniform for the more public meeting after the ceremony.

Blaine had heard the story of Jean's mission, the one Carmine had assigned him--find and help a frightened fledgling named Dieter who'd been running from country to country seeking refuge. Laurent Martin had found Dieter first, and convinced him that all Princes were evil and wanted to kill him. Jean had reached Dieter too late and in had been in too debilitated a condition to save the fledgling. That was why Jean had named Martin as a killer of children the previous night.

"Excuse me, Jean," Blaine said, clearing his throat. "I need to claim your Prince for the nonce. If you don't mind a fair trade, I dare say Olivia could use some company."

Jean bowed. "My pleasure, Prince Blaine," he said, and put Gen's hand in Blaine's. He strode away towards Olivia's sick room without a backward glance.

"Glad to see he's his old self," said Blaine, smiling.

"Not as glad as I am," Genevieve replied.

Other Princes were gravitating towards the room being used for the Council meeting. Kalonice joined Blaine and Gen, the three of them now hooking elbows and smiling. There was no laughter, as the investiture ceremony was a solemn one. The three of them caught sight of Rodrigo and Monique going into the room, but made no effort to catch them up.

Hans was already at the front of the room, standing behind the cloth-draped table that held the paraphernalia for the ceremony. Each Prince who entered the room bowed, though whether it was to Hans or to the table was not clear. Already there was the burnt ozone smell and the tinny taste of magic in the air.

On the table were a sword with a jewelled hilt and a plain leather sword belt, a golden crown (really just a circlet), an elaborately decorated metal goblet, and a sharp dagger.

Wilhelm entered the room, head high, eyes fixed on Hans. He was a handsome bastard, Blaine had to give him that, a poster boy for the Nazi ideal of blond hair and blue eyes. He looked slightly nervous, but proud. He was not, by all the stars, wearing a uniform. Rather, he had on quite a nicely tailored silk tuxedo ensemble.

Another unsatisfactory German Prince, no doubt, but who else was there?

All the Princes had assembled now, and Carmine ordered the doors closed and locked. The room had been warded to prevent any magical interference or eavesdropping.

Then Carmine turned to Hans. "We are ready."

Hans nodded, and looked at Wilhelm. Blaine found himself nearly feeling sorry for the boy, who looked like he wanted to bolt. But he stood his ground bravely, waiting for Hans to speak.

"Wilhelm Gerhardt Kessler," Hans said, speaking much more solemnly than his usual manner,

"You are summoned to assume the title, powers and responsibilities of Prince of Germany. Do you accept?"

Wilhelm nodded, then seemed to realize this was not good enough. "Yes," he said. "I accept."

"Know then, what it means to be Prince. You must rule your domain
wisely, giving special favours to none, treating all equally. As
Prince, you are charged with keeping the peace. It is your duty and
responsibility to see that there are no wars, no feuds and no wanton
killings in your realm. You are charged with bringing those of our kind
declared rogue by this Council to justice. You are charged with theresponsibility to see that the vampires under your rule do not treat the
human citizens of your domain like cattle. You kill only in dire need
or self-defence or in justice.

The Powers of a Prince are these: the power to exile. The power to
utter a death curse before meeting the final peace, if you are murdered
and your murderer gives you time to speak the curse. Once you are
Prince, you will be able to feel a connection with all other Princes;
you will know when they are in danger, when they are wounded, when they
die. These are ties that quite literally bind, and the power is in the
blood."

The Austrian Prince picked up the sword first, and buckled the belt
around Wilhelm's waist. "The sword represents justice and strength," he
said. "It is the main symbol of our office as Prince."

Ah, yes... Blaine remembered. He saw Wilhelm's eyes widen slightly. The sword would be thrumming. It was a conduit. The power was building. Every Prince was leaning forward, hungrily, remembering.

Hans then picked up the plain gold circlet and placed it on Wilhelm's
head. "The crown represents mercy, power, wisdom; it is the symbol of
our responsibilities as Prince."

It was not much of a crown, but when it was placed on the head of the Prince-to-be, it would nearly complete the transfer of power. With it on, Wilhelm would feel a connection to every other Prince in the room. The sword and the crown were never worn in public or to meetings. They were... sacred. Kept guarded and hidden.

"Hold out your wrist," said Hans, picking up the dagger.
 

Wilhelm held out his hand as if expecting it to be spanked with a ruler.

Hans demonstrated what came next. He sliced open his own wrist and let the blood flow freely into the goblet. Wilhelm licked his lips and copied the older vampire's moves.

Blaine remembered... remembered the feeling of uncertainty, and then the gradual awareness that this was... right and proper.

Each Prince came forward and copied this part of the ceremony, which was conducted in absolute silence. The blood of every Prince was added.

Hans then placed the goblet, with the mingled blood of each of the
Princes on the table.
"The sharing of our blood binds us to the Council, and to one another.
Drink."

Hans passed the goblet to the nearest Prince sitting at the table, which happened to be Blaine.

He drank, felt the power course through his veins, felt his connection with each Prince renewed and strengthened. He felt Wilhelm as part of the Council for the first time. It was not a matter of being able to read minds or anything like that... Princes were too wary and experienced for that. It was ... awareness. Just knowing. Impossible to explain.

But Wilhelm, who drank second-last–Hans was the last to drink–would feel it for the first time ever, and the feeling would be nearly overwhelming. Far worse than suddenly acquiring family.

Blood relations. Literally.

Kind hands helped Wilhelm back to his seat. He would be feeling very strange, like he had suddenly acquired ten new bodies melded into his own. It would take awhile for the overwhelming feeling of communion to pass, but the underlying connection would never cease, unless someone else was accepted as Prince of Germany.

___________

While the Princes conducted their secret ceremony, two consorts sat talking quietly to each other. Olivia had been very glad to see Jean, to see that he was well and his spirits recovered. He declared that he was, on his part, relieved to see that she would recover from her wound. He mocked her excessive bandaging and she mocked his faux military look and the two of them ended up nearly in tears from laughter.

It was very healing, for both of them.

 

Uberto knocked on the door, apologetically, to inform them that Jean was summoned to the full Council meeting and that the doctor would be in shortly to see to Olivia. Jean leaned over and kissed Olivia on both cheeks, then strode off whistling.

Olivia was left alone to contemplate her sins. Since this was not something she normally did, she found it quite boring and begged the doctor, when he entered, for some reading material instead. He obligingly managed to find her some fashion magazines–no doubt Paula's. Better than nothing, Olivia thought.

She wondered what was happening at the meeting.

_______

After the ceremony, the meeting itself was almost anticlimatic. Rodrigo had hissed at Jean that he was unworthy to be a retainer since he had insulted a Prince. Carmine had squelched that insult firmly and warned Rodrigo not to speak out of order again or risk being tossed out of the meeting.

Carmine once again apologized for the wounding of England's consort, Blaine once again assured him that the fault lay with England. It had to be said formally, in meeting, for the whole Council to hear.

The first item on the agenda was a call for a motion of censure. This was normally the first step in a deposition, a step that had been ignored back in Belgium when Gen's head was on the line. A censured Prince was one who had to watch what they said and did carefully until the motion was overturned–if it ever was. It was Gen who called for the motion. She wanted Monique censured for letting Laurent Martin get away when it was known he would go rogue.

The newest Prince seconded the motion, and answered everyone's surprised looks by stating that Dieter, the fledgling murdered by Laurent, had been German. The motion passed, and Carmine looked at Monique and told her to consider herself censured.

While Blaine was still trying not to laugh at Monique's expression, Carmine moved on to the next item: his plans for modernizing the Council.

He proposed doing away with much of the bloodshed. No more court purges at a deposition. No more automatic executions of deposed or abdicated Princes. No more assassination attempts, annexing attempts, or other hostile actions against fellow Princes. A kinder, gentler Council, at least to each other. Concentrating their bloodthirstiness instead on those who warranted it, rogues and outlaws.

The vote was unanimous. Even Rodrigo agreed. For once, he acted like a Prince.

It was agreed that at the next full Council meeting, the details would be hashed out, new agreements written. Meanwhile, each Prince was asked to consider how he or she would like to see Council reforms played out.

"Is there any other business?" Carmine asked once the buzz from this motion passing had died down.

Not surprisingly, there was none and the meeting was dismissed.

Blaine clapped Carmine on the shoulder. "Well done, old boy," he said.

"That remains to be seen," replied Carmine, pessimist.