His dramatic introduction causes shocked gasps and whispers in the room.
He motions for the audience to keep quiet. “Our archenemy, Kurt Ozzi, has convinced a high-level international expert panel that the document he claims to have found is authentic.”
“Wait, what?” My little sister Gigi asks.
From across the room, Theo gives her a reproving stare. He takes his “father figure” role a little too seriously if you ask me.
“Prime Minister,” he says, turning toward the lectern. “I thought we were gathered here to learn about Mother’s—I mean, the oracle’s revelation…”
“That, too, Your Highness.” The prime minister glances at Mother. “The timing of the oracle’s revelation is no coincidence, I am sure. But first, we must discuss the threat that Ozzi’s document poses to Mount Evor.”
Uncle Rich sets his elbows on the table and leans forward. “The sunset clause.”
The prime minister’s face turns graver still. “Reigning Prince Richard is correct. Yesterday afternoon, the Joint French-Swiss-Italian Commission of Forensic Archeologists authenticated an addendum unearthed by Kurt Ozzi. That addendum, unfortunately for us, does contain a clause specifying the circumstances of Mount Evor’s termination.”
The sunset clause is real then.
“I will read from the Joint Commission’s statement,” the prime minister says, shuffling through his papers. “The Principality of Mount Evor was established by the treaty signed in Pombrio in the year 986 between Knight Isidore Pox-Face—later Prince Isidore I of House Montevor—and King Louis V of France.”
When I was made a diplomat two years ago—an emissary as we call them—I had to brush up my Evorian history. That’s how I remember that Louis V’s nickname was “Do-Nothing.” He ruled for only two short years from 986 to 987, during which time he didn’t do an awful lot as his nickname suggests. But he can boast of one big accomplishment. He signed the treaty establishing Mount Evor.
The prime minister drinks some water. “Numerous sources mention the existence of an addendum to the Treaty of Pombrio. They say that the King Robert II of France and the Dowager Princess Philomena Theresa of Mount Evor added a clause to our founding treaty. Some of those sources speak of a sunset clause?—”
“Some?” Theo cuts in from the front row. “Only two, and one of them is a copy of a copy, and it contains so much crap that no one in their right mind takes any of its claims seriously!”
Uncle Rich shuts his eyes and tilts his face upward in an exasperated plea. “May the prime minister resume?”
Theo’s ears turn crimson. “Please, I apologize for the interruption.”
“One Kurt Ozzi, binational citizen of France and Italy, has recently come forward claiming he found an addendum in the Vatican archives,” the PM reads from the Commission’s statement. “We have carefully examined the document, which contains a sunset clause, and we believe it is authentic.”
He falls silent and surveys the room.
“Can you please spell out the implications?” Uncle Rich asks the PM.
“Of course, Your Most Serene Highness. It means that Italy and France are entitled to split and annex Mount Evor.”
“When?” Gigi asks.
“Within a year, Princess Eugénie.”
A dumbfounded silence sets in.
Grandmother is the one to break it. “Mount Evor will lose its independence and statehood. The royal family will be deposed. We’ll be stripped of our titles and, possibly, most of our land. Evorians will become French and Italian citizens. Their taxes will quadruple.”
The message is harsh in itself, but delivered in Grandmother’s deep, ominous voice, it sends a shockwave through the Grand Hall, lifting up the audience. The royal dukes, notables, officials, and county representatives rise to their feet and voice their horror.
“It’s a death sentence!”
“An assassination of a country!”
“They’ll nationalize all our companies, banks, and vineyards to offset their gaping public deficit!”
“We can as well kill ourselves!”
“It’s the end of the world—the apocalypse!”
Uncle Rich hushes them. “I wouldn’t call it anapocalypse, but the outcome of our annexation would be negative for every Evorian. Tragic for some.”
