They went back to their seats, and Sarah sat down muttering dire imprecations about Judy and her overblown sense of theater. Personally, Gayleen thought it all looked rather splendid. From the applause, so did the audience.
Millicent then went out on the platform and got her crown and a gavel. She was going to set up the Vienna stock exchange.
Trudi von Bachmerin was next. This was all as new to Trudi as it was to any of them. This ceremony was as much the child of Judy the Barracudy’s imagination as it was a product of the seventeenth century. Trudi got a bank book like Sarah’s, but smaller and trimmed in silver, not gold. Her tiara was silver, with an amber stone in the front.
Gabrielle would have been next but she had declined the honor. Gabrielle wasn’t interested in any title other than “doctor.”
Vicky Emerson was next and she was a little stiff, which was a considerable improvement over her initial response to the idea of swearing an oath to a foreign potentate. Vicky was an American, not of the Club 250 sort. Bill Magen had been a down-timer, after all. But Vicky hadn’t approved of the New U.S. joining the CPE, much less becoming a state in the USE. Márton was working on that and she swore her oath as required. Besides, the news out of the USE was starting to get scary. It looked like a civil war might be coming. Emperor Gustav Adolf’s condition meant that Chancellor Oxenstierna was able to run wild.
Next came Judy, playing it for all it was worth. The tiaras had been made by Morris Roth in Prague and flown in. They had more in common with a beauty queen’s crown than a down-time crown. Judy’s was gold—well, electrum—and had a huge emerald in front. She really did look like a princess. She got a bank book, too.
Susan went up next and got her tiara and bank book. She didn’t carry it off with Judy’s grace, but she wasn’t as stiff as Vicky had been.
Then Emperor Ferdinand called up Ron and her. She gave little Ron to Lisa and took Ron’s hand as they walked out onto the platform. At which point Carri abandoned her examination of the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne and ran after them on her stubby little legs, only to be caught up short by Lisa. “I wanna go too!”
Little Ron, upset by the sudden movement or his sister’s shout, started crying.
Ron grinned ruefully. “Well, so much for solemn state occasions.”
Gayleen wanted to slug him. They walked on out to the platform and swore their oaths into the microphone and the emperor invested them as imperial counts. On their way back to the imperial box, Ron sneezed.
The Fortneys were counted too, then it was Hayley’s turn. The whole morning standing out in a blizzard had been leading up to this. First, the emperor read out the agreement making Race Track City an imperial principality. Then Hayley read out the constitution, which included a bill of rights right in it, and called on the assembled people to accept or reject it. There was a great shout of acceptance from the audience. After which the emperor went down and got into the 240Z and the newest princess went down and got into the Sonny Steamer. Gayleen, Ron, and the kids got into their truck and the Fortneys into their Range Rover, and all of them, in a parade, drove the bounds of the new principality.
Liechtenstein House, Vienna
Of course, they all caught colds. Emperor and empress, all the way down to scullery maids, everyone caught a cold. The Hofburg Palace and Race Track City were as drippy as leaky faucets, and it spread to just about every noble house in Vienna.
“If you indend that we get married in duh streed, I will no—Aaahhchooo!—be adending,” Sarah told Karl.
Karl, eyes puffy and long nose red as a beet, just looked at her. Anna, outside the room, blew her nose loudly and then brought in a silver service with tea, lemon, and honey.
“Dno.” Judy was, for once looking just as raggedy as any normal human, agreed. “Ub-time we did weddings id church. ‘Id’ being duh impordand poind.”
“Dere are a couple of reasons we can—Aaahhchooo!—cannod do id dat way. De most impordant is that id’s looking like St. Stephen’s is leaning toward Borja—sniff—and if we give Anton Wolfradt an excuse, he’s likely do make an issue of id.”
“Wad aboud cidy hall?” Sarah sniffed, and it hurt.
“Don god one,” Karl said.
“Din you to can jusd wade dill da dower—Aaahhchooo!—tower is finished.”
Karl sneezed again, then held his head like he was trying to keep his brain from falling out. But after a minute, he said, “Wade a minid. We can pud the roov on de first do floors, radder din wade.”
Sarah tried to think through the pain. The first two floors of the Liechtenstein Tower were two stories of shops surrounding a large mezzanine. The third floor was planned to cover over the mezzanine, to act as support for the higher floors. The first floor and about half of the second was done. If they put in the floor of the third floor before extending it, they could have a functional roof over the center area in a month. “Id’s gonna be darg, dark.”