1
The duchy of Gilmore was nestled between the Mountains of Song and the Deep Blue Forest. It was a fertile land with seldom any problems and a relatively low interest rate. The fortunes of the duchy were largely due to the ruling family, a kind people marked by the seven-tined stars emblazoned on their brows.
The current duke of Gilmore was named Richard and he was well-known for his pragmatism and golf game. His wife, Emily was a celebrated beauty and party planner. Her soirees were quite popular among the elite set.
But they were getting on in life. One autumn day, warm and golden, they called in their daughter and son-in-law.
"We're retiring to Bermuda," Richard said. He took the crown off his head, polished the metal with his handkerchief, and handed it to Luke.
"Just like that," Lorelei said.
"Real estate is at an all time low," Richard explained. "And I've always wanted my own golf course…"
"And the climate would be so refreshing," Emily added. "Mitzy, you know, the Viscount Georg's niece, was their last season and she said it did fabulous things to her complexion."
"You've practically run the duchy for years now," Richard reassured them. "I've been training you both your since marriage. You'll do fine. And I'm only a courier away."
"Oh, Chadmire's is good. They have these green pixies that are very quick."
"I'll keep that in mind, mom." Lorelei nodded.
"Yes, do." Emily paused. "Speaking of things to keep in mind, you should send out the announcements soon. Choose something tasteful. A nice gold leaf with burgandy accents."
"Announcements," Luke asked.
"Why Rory's almost sixteen!"
"Yes," Luke acknowledged.
"It's time for her to get married."
"It's vital to maintain the chain of succession," Richard advised. "Always have a back up."
Luke frowned. He didn't know if he was willing to give up his daughter.
Lorelei tried to comfort him, "I was sixteen when we were married and we've done okay."
"I'll leave you my notes on the etiquette," Emily offered. "A challenge or impossible task is customary
"Oh, I'll give them impossible," Luke muttered.
The duchy of Gilmore was nestled between the Mountains of Song and the Deep Blue Forest. It was a fertile land with seldom any problems and a relatively low interest rate. The fortunes of the duchy were largely due to the ruling family, a kind people marked by the seven-tined stars emblazoned on their brows.
The current duke of Gilmore was named Richard and he was well-known for his pragmatism and golf game. His wife, Emily was a celebrated beauty and party planner. Her soirees were quite popular among the elite set.
But they were getting on in life. One autumn day, warm and golden, they called in their daughter and son-in-law.
"We're retiring to Bermuda," Richard said. He took the crown off his head, polished the metal with his handkerchief, and handed it to Luke.
"Just like that," Lorelei said.
"Real estate is at an all time low," Richard explained. "And I've always wanted my own golf course…"
"And the climate would be so refreshing," Emily added. "Mitzy, you know, the Viscount Georg's niece, was their last season and she said it did fabulous things to her complexion."
"You've practically run the duchy for years now," Richard reassured them. "I've been training you both your since marriage. You'll do fine. And I'm only a courier away."
"Oh, Chadmire's is good. They have these green pixies that are very quick."
"I'll keep that in mind, mom." Lorelei nodded.
"Yes, do." Emily paused. "Speaking of things to keep in mind, you should send out the announcements soon. Choose something tasteful. A nice gold leaf with burgandy accents."
"Announcements," Luke asked.
"Why Rory's almost sixteen!"
"Yes," Luke acknowledged.
"It's time for her to get married."
"It's vital to maintain the chain of succession," Richard advised. "Always have a back up."
Luke frowned. He didn't know if he was willing to give up his daughter.
Lorelei tried to comfort him, "I was sixteen when we were married and we've done okay."
"I'll leave you my notes on the etiquette," Emily offered. "A challenge or impossible task is customary
"Oh, I'll give them impossible," Luke muttered.