The Amelia Project - Episode 86 - Queen Basilia (833-873)

Episode Date: January 31, 2025

"One of my favorite clients. And one that I had a rather... extended relationship with." 833. Anno Domini. Western Europe. On the shores of the Mediterranean... Featuring Méabh de Brún as Queen Basilia, Alan Burgon as The Interviewer, Julia C. Thorne as Alvina and Torgny G Anderaa as Nestor. The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions. The episode was written by Gabriel Urbina of Wolf 359 and Dracula Danse Macabre, with direction by Philip Thorne and Oystein Brager, dialogue editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Paul Kraner, music by Fredrik Baden, production assistance by Maty Parzival and graphic design by Anders Pedersen. Website: https://ameliapodcast.com/  Transcripts: https://ameliapodcast.com/season-5  Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ameliapodcast Donations: https://ameliapodcast.com/support Merch: https://www.teepublic.com/stores/the-amelia-project?ref_id=6148 Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/theameliaproject.bsky.social Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ameliapodcast/ Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/ameliapodcast X: https://twitter.com/amelia_podcast Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hello dear Amelia listeners, we have some very exciting news, something we've been wanting to talk about for a while and now we finally can. We're coming to London this May to perform live, not in a traditional theatre, but on a boat. Theatreship is a historic cargo barge moored at London's Isle of Dogs and we've written a brand new story specially for this unusual venue. It features a remote lighthouse, mythical sea creatures, an ancient curse and pooping seagulls – everything you'd expect from an old mariner's tale. The show takes place on the 31st of May 2025 and the first 30 tickets are going for a special early bird rate. You can get your

tickets at theatreship.co.uk all by going to our website and following the link there. There's limited seating capacity on the boat so we do recommend the U-book early to avoid disappointment. We hope to welcome you aboard Theatre Ship for an evening of death fakery on the high seas, and drinks in the boat's cosy bar afterwards. Calling all sellers, Salesforce is hiring account executives to join us on the cutting edge of technology. Here, innovation isn't a buzzword. It's a way of life. You'll be solving customer challenges faster with agents, winning with purpose,

and showing the world what AI was meant to be. Let's create the agent-first future together. Head to salesforce.com slash careers to learn more. blindfolded. Be like Doctimus, support the show on Patreon and let us fake your death. Enjoy the episode. Dear son. Hello. Sorry, that took a bit longer than I expected. I'm amazed you found something open at this time of night. Never give up, never surrender.

There we are. Thanks. Careful, it's quite hot. Thank you. It's no let-o-ma-go, but I thought some cocoa might help keep you warm. And keep your spirits up. We have entered the Dark Ages after all. Not the most pleasant period in our history.

Well, in anyone's history, that matter. Are you alright? Oh, er, fine. It's just... Yes? Well, not much to do here. Ah. So I was just looking at some of the graves. Lots of cherfice and darling sir out here. Yes.

It just got me thinking about... What a weird custom it is. Which custom? Oh, just... this. We're born, we do a whole bunch of things. Go on adventures, break hearts and so on. And then we die. And how are we remembered? By whatever word someone carves into a rock over us, that's the part that lasts forever.

Bit weird, isn't it? Yes, I see. Not that you have had to it? Yes, I see. Not that you have had to worry about that, I guess. Alvina, my life's work has been to help people disappear, oftentimes to help them avoid the consequence of the things they've done, the adventures they've gone on, and the hearts they've broken. What on earth makes you think I don't worry about the way people are remembered? Okay, that's fair. I mean, the last story I told you was all about changing the way a person is remembered.

True. Still, it is interesting. A lot of the time after I'm done, the memories people have of my clients can be rather disconnected from the truth of who they were. Not just in the case of Queen Gruoch. In a way, I'm the only one that remembers who they were. Who they really were. What they did. I've been the keeper of stories. And I can tell you for a fact, nothing lasts forever. Not even stone.

Time for another story? Yes. One of my favorite clients. And one that I had a rather... extended relationship with. Okay, okay, wait. That's surprisingly good. Surprisingly? But what do you take me for? Do you want some?

No. It tastes like ashes, remember? Oh, yeah, I'm sorry. It's alright. Okay, I'm ready now. Take me away. 833. Anno Domini. Western Europe. On the shores of the Mediterranean. The Amelia Project, created by Philip Thorne and Øystein Ulspeck-Braga, with music and sound direction by Frederik Barden and sound design by Paul Krana. Episode 86. Queen Basilia. 833 to 873.

Episode by Gabriel Urbina. Oh. Hmm. All right. Is there a problem, sir? What? Oh, no, no, no, no, no, of course not. No problem. Very good. Steph, is... It's just, well, when I was told I was being summoned to the castle, I was expecting something a bit more... ...castly.

Castly, sir? Oh, you know, higher parapets, grander halls... ...moats. Yes, I mean, I do have to admit, I was slightly crushed when I realized this palace did not have a moat. I was slightly crushed when I realized this palace did not have a moat. You stand in the grand chambers of her most imperial majesty, Queen Veselia, first of her name, ruler of this territory and supreme protector of the ocean lands. I can assure you with absolute conviction that these are the most fantastically, superbly majestic fortifications in this or any other land. Ooh, my word. That's a good word, isn't it? Empyrean. Empyrean. Empire-rion. Empyrean. That's rather fun to say.

Sir, might one be so bold as to presume that this would be your first time addressing royalty? Well, of course you might. You'd also be boldly wrong. I once spent an absolutely enchanted evening with the Emperor of... Even so, sir. Ahem. I feel compelled to make certain facets of how one addresses an individual as grand as Her Majesty clear to you, if I may. Oh, please. I'm all ears.

Terrific. You will find that when addressing one as wise as the Queen, one's speech can be kept rather short and to the point. Yes, ma'am or no, ma'am, should in almost all circumstances be the totality of your vocabulary. Yes. Never stare at Her Majesty. In fact, look directly at her as little as possible. Right. You will bow when you first enter and incline your head when you exit. Incline? Which direction is that? But, and, this is vital. The most important thing.

I believe you'll find that the most important thing is not to keep Her Majesty waiting. Yes, ma'am. That will do, Nestor. I will see the man now. Right this way, sir. Best of luck. Thank you. Your Majesty, it is an honor. Was that a good bow?

I can try that again if it was not up to your Empyrean standards. Oh, perfectly acceptable. Please, sit. Thank you, ma'am. I must say, it is rather thrilling to get to work with someone of your stature. Is it now? Well, I suppose my stature will have to make up for how disappointing my parapets are. Ah, I was rather hoping Her Majesty had not heard that. Just a momentary lapse in judgement, ma'am. Yours is a tremendous castle, and from what I can see, every corner of it is filled with such an assortment of exciting objects. Oh, those, ignore that.

That is just my insufferable fellow royals living up to their name. Come again? My coronation was only six months ago, but news travels quickly in this modern age. Presents have started to arrive from the other heads of state around Europe. Henry of France sent enough bearskin rugs

for every room in the castle. Roger of Sicily sent some delightful paintings of himself putting some rebels to the sword. And Frederick, High Duke of the Holy Roman Empire, and ever the Comedian of the bunch, sent quite a large shipment of King Crab, which I expect we'll be eating for the next three weeks. How… charming. Terribly nice of them to think of you. As most monarchs do, they are thinking only of themselves, especially when claiming to do something

for others. Well, I didn't want to say that before you did. Was there no present to your liking? No. One. Bermuda of Leon had this sent over. A clever little game that they inherited from their conquerors. It's called Ahetres. Oh, it looks a bit like the old Roman brigands, doesn't it? The heart of it is the same, though it is infinitely more complicated. Every piece has a different function and a different way of traversing the board. This one...

...is called the King. And its capture signals the end of the game. But this one... This one is able to move in all directions and conquer all others. That is why it's called the Queen. I quite appreciate the perspicacity of any game where the Queen is the most powerful piece on the board. Your Majesty, if I might perhaps ask a rather indelicate question? I had you brought here for an indelicate matter.

Ask your question. Thank you. Your kingdom, it is not, um, traditionally a land where the crown follows a matriarchal line of succession, is it? Are you asking how in the world I came to be Queen? Well, um... The truth is, nobody expected it. Least of all me. Oh. I was born a princess, and my destiny should have been to stay that way.

As the King's older sister, I spent most of my life rather far from centre stage. While my brother learned the proper way to sit on a throne and make a crown sparkle, I availed myself of the royal tutors, arranged an education in mathematics, trade, justice, logistics. And so when my brother came of age, he could have a voice of wisdom in the shadows, someone that could handle lesser matters while he wore all the regalia. And then? And then tragedy. Or more accurately, a series of tragedies.

My younger brother died in a hunting accident. A sudden fever took our uncle. A drunken jewel left us without our cousin once removed. And a shipwreck killed the king. And his only son. All within a year. Ah. So, to answer your impertinent question... No. The crown does not usually trickle down to women. It abhorred me almost as much as I abhor it. But we were both left with little choice on the matter.

You were quite literally the last man standing. Or the closest thing to it, in any case. Quite. With all due respect to your departed brother, it perhaps sounds like your kingdom might be better off for having a ruler like yourself. If you were handling matters of trade and logistics and justice, what was your brother doing during his reign? Averting disaster. Uh, your majesty?

Tell me. You've traveled through my kingdom to reach my castle. You rode down my roads, walked among my people, ate of my bread and drank of my wine. What did you see as you did all of that? What is my kingdom to your eyes? Oh, um, it is a fair kingdom. Its fields are bounteous, its roads are wide, Its cathedrals tall. There's ample trade and... Ahem. No. Now you're just saying what Nestor would like you to say. Oh, um... Don't. The man I've been promised would see something beyond that, and he wouldn't be afraid to say so.

So tell me the truth. What did you see? Well, um... fear. Fear everywhere I went. In every town square and church and marketplace. Practically in every house. Fear. It's like your people are living with a sword dangling over their head. Oh. Oh. Tens of thousands of swords, actually. Come again? For a long time, my kingdom has been blessed. Fertile plains, access to the sea and its bounty, a favorable position in major trade routes, both by sea and by land. And when your own house looks that lovely, the neighbors tend to start getting a little envious. Ah.

My grandfather was long able to keep the wolves at bay. So was my father, and for all of his rather immense shortcomings, so was my brother in his own particular way. But now... Things are different. Hmm. Everywhere I look, I see a different army, marshalling forces. France, Aragon, Castile, and the Holy Roman Empire.

And that's just my land, mind you. I turn to the sea and what do I find? The navies of the Sicilies. England and the Almohads. I'm surrounded by them on all sides. And I know exactly how they think of my kingdom. A trapped animal without the forces it needs to defend itself and an impending succession crisis. Impending success...

Ah. No spouse, no children. Never quite found the time, you see. I do see, yes. And so, when we take all of that together, we're left with a simple conclusion. The wolves are at my door, and it's going to take a miracle to drive them off.

Hmm. Well, maybe not quite a miracle. This sticky situation could yet be resolved in the way these matters are traditionally dealt with, couldn't it? I mean, why not simply choose one of your neighbors and ally with them? Hardly ideal, I realize, but a pact of alliance sealed with a marriage between yourself and a corresponding prince, now that might be enough to bolster your kingdom's safety, no? But not to guarantee it. Ask yourself, what happens when I marry the Prince of Aragon

and join my lands to his fathers, only to have France decide it wants my territories more than it fears the wrath of Iberia. They might decide to invade anyway, possibly with a shiny new military alliance of their own. And then what happens? Well, maybe we are able to fend off the invading forces after years or possibly decades of fighting. Or maybe, after a similar span of non-stop horror, we are conquered and ground into the dust. Difficult to say which outcome would be more likely, but you know what happens in either case? Ooh, um... A bloodbath. Yes, um, one that would undoubtedly result in the deaths of thousands of your subjects.

Blimey. I am beginning to understand the magnitude of the problem you are faced with. Oh, I'm pleased to hear that. Especially as this is where you come into these matters. Yes, I rather suspected it might be. I assume that I have been brought here to take the Queen off the board, so to speak? What? What? Are we not discussing ways of making you disappear, Your Majesty? What? Good heavens!

Absolutely not. Are you mad? But, um... But, I... Heavens? Absolutely not. Are you mad? But um… but… Don't be ridiculous. How would that help matters? If anything, the sudden abdication of the ruling monarch might only precipitate an invasion. In what way would that help my subjects? Why would you think that? I… Your Majesty, it's… I mean, it's what I do. You rule wisely and thoughtfully with a thorough understanding of the economic backbone that gives a nation its foundation. I pluck people out of complicated situations by simulating their death.

I mean, if that is not what I have been summoned to accomplish, why then am I here? I don't want you to make me disappear. I want you to make my entire kingdom disappear. Ha, ha, uh, I beg your pardon, ma'am. I want you to make my entire kingdom disappear. to make my entire kingdom disappear. If we are here, we are going to get invaded and countless of us will die. We need to not be here.

I want you to make this happen. I want you to make this happen. Right, um... this is, uh... it's quite a task, ma'am. I am aware, but I have been led to believe that you are a man that enjoys a challenge. Even so, this is... I mean, this is ambitious. Even within the field of the ambitious, this would stand out as quite ambitious. But can it be done? Well... Can it?

Oh, um... Yes, I believe it can. After a fashion, and with a bit of luck. Although the cost will be great. Oh, money is no object. We may be lacking in armed forces, but not in funds. You should consider the Royal Treasury entirely at your discretion. No, no, no, that is not... Okay, no, no, that is actually very good,

because what I am thinking of will not be cheap. But no, that is not what I meant. It is going to take quite a lot from you to make this happen. Among other things, a great deal of patience. Patience? The enemy is at the gate. How long will this plan of yours take? Well? How long did it take?

Oh, a few. A few what? Weeks? Months? Decades. Decades? Yes, well it was a very complicated plan. Lots of moving parts.

That is so not your style. I didn't think you could stay in a single place for that long. Well I didn't exactly stay there the whole time. I mean, I worked with other clients, tackled other problems, visited the Highlands. This was just a long-term investment of ours. But... Now, could I please just tell the story? Okay, sure.

Sorry. Thank you. All right, then. Now, my next significant meeting with the Queen took place six months later. What's up Spotify? This is Javi. I remember this one time we were on tour. We didn't have any guitar picks and we didn't have time to go to the store. So we placed an order on Prime and it got there the next day ready for the show. Whatever you're into, it's on Prime.

Clear your schedule for U-Time with a handcrafted espresso beverage from Starbucks. Savor the new small and mighty Cortado, cozy up with the familiar flavors of pistachio, or shake up your mood with an iced brown sugar oat shaken espresso. Whatever you choose, your espresso will be handcrafted with care at Starbucks. with care at Starbucks. Your Majesty, I am very, very happy to report that the plan is progressing splendidly. Much better than even I dared to hope. And it's my plan. My own agents are reporting similar findings.

Armies pulling back from our borders, fleets giving our ports a wide berth, it's a rather amazing turn. Well, we pride ourselves on delivering amazing, Mom. How did you do it? How did you manage to convince them? Oh, you know, as with most things in life, I simply had to make them believe that it was in their own self-interest to do the very thing we wanted them to do.

I'll admit I was briefly stumped on the particulars for this one. But then I corresponded with my long-term colleague on the matter of your dilemma, and he provided a rather devious little trick. Yes, a bit of soap is applied to the skin, somewhere visible, and then doused with vinegar. It sort of congeals on the skin. To all but the most well-trained eyes, the effect is virtually indistinguishable from blisters, boils, open sores, or... All the telltale signs of deadly infectious disease. The plague. It was you. Deadly infectious, extremely contagious disease, Your Majesty. Yes, I mean, once we had that idea, the rest was simple logistics.

A few actors were hired and sightings were arranged in key places along the border, in major cities of trade and commerce, and in every bustling port town along your coast. Combine that with a few carefully vetted messengers, paid handsomely to rush to foreign cities with the dire news of outbreaks of disease and, you know... Gohan, say it. And your entire kingdom is now seen as the most festering, purulent place in all of Europe. Mmm. Locus non grado for all of your enemies.

Oh, your borders couldn't be more closed if we welded them shut! Ha ha! Ah, yes. Which, of course, delays any and all invading armies. Indeed. Who in their right mind would send an army to bring back a deadly plague that will decimate their own nation? Yes.

Well, very clever. Thank you. I believe it has gone off without a hitch. It has. Or, well, the start of the plan has. There's quite a road still ahead of us, Your Majesty. All our simulated health crisis has done is buy us some badly needed time. Time? Time to do what?

To change the way people think about this country. Six months ago, it was seen as the most desirable plot of land for the modern conqueror looking to make his mark on the geopolitical stage. No good. Part one of the plan was to do away with that perception, and to replace it with the idea that your lands are... A horrid, festering pit of death? Quite beautifully put, Your Majesty. I couldn't have said it better myself. Yes, part two of the plan is to keep it that way for as long as possible. This nation needs to remain a place no one wants to go near,

no one wants to visit, a place it would be unthinkable to set so much as a toe in. Only once it has been that way in the public's eye for a good, long time can we move on to part three of the plan. Which is? Why, to get people to stop thinking about your kingdom at all, your majesty, of course. I see. And as for next steps? Well, you'll need to keep up the pretence of disease.

Outbreaks only last so long, so there will need to be new ones. Mix it up, too. Vary the illness every few years or so. Plague, cholera, smallpox, typhoid, ooh, leprosy! I hear that's all the rage these days. The more deadly, painful and disfiguring the better, but it has to be a consistent state of outbreak. You see, the moment someone in France starts to wonder if the situation down here has blown

over, that's your cue to unveil a new wave of virulent horror. It's the only way the plan will work. Understood. I'll see that it's all handled per your instructions. Wonderful. And, uh, incidentally, speaking of handling things... I've had a word with my treasurer. The funds to fulfill your contract should be ready this afternoon. Oh, bravo, your majesty.

Mind you, you weren't kidding when you said this wouldn't be cheap. With the borders closed, whatever we can't grow ourselves, we need to rely on smugglers to bring in. It's all starting to pile up. Yes, but speaking of smugglers, could Your Majesty put me in touch with a reliable and discreet ship's captain? You need something brought into the kingdom? No, I need something brought out of the kingdom. Specifically me. I must be brought out of the kingdom. Your work here is not done. Well, my work for you is not done, no.

But my work here is at a close, at least for now. The next phase of the plan requires me to attend to matters in the exterior. But never fear. I'll be monitoring matters very closely, and I will return to aid you when the time is right. And when will that be? Well?

Hm? How long was it? Well, I mean, it's, um, is your cocoa still warm? You're stalling! No, I'm not, no I'm not. I'm ensuring that you're enjoying a delicious cup of cocoa that I managed. Cocoa, yes, I know. What? Did you leave her alone for a whole year? Oh, well, that would have been...

Two years? Um... I... Four? Five? Nine years. Oh! It was nine years before I next saw the Queen. Shameless. Nine years. It was nine years before I next saw the Queen.

Shameless. Your Majesty, it is so good to be able to breathe the air in your royal halls again. I was starting to lose hope that we'd ever see you again. Please, ma'am, when you hire the best, we see things through to the end. Well, I'm very glad to hear that. Your... Your Majesty looks a bit, um, different than she did when we last met. Yes. The rest of my hair has finally gone grey. Nothing gets by you, does it?

No, you're... My hair has finally gone grey. Nothing gets by you, does it? No, you're... Mom, where is your crown? Your scepter? The royal rings? Where is your regalia? Ah... That.

It's been... some years since I last saw those items. The past few seasons have not been kind to our treasury. It only gets more expensive to find sailors and traders willing to brave the risk of doing business with us. The costs of keeping my people fed have risen manifold since last I saw you. And the treasury does not replenish itself the way it once did. I am sorry, your majesty. Are you?

I'm not. They were just things. Old things. Valuable things. But just things. If a thing can be the difference between a town starving or making it through the winter, well, what kind of ruler would I be if I had kept my father's ring?

Bring me good news. What of the plan? The plan continues apace. I've been busy these past few years. I've travelled to London, Paris, Nuremberg, Toledo, Rome and more still. Every major city on the continent. And everywhere I go, do you know where I visit? Merchant houses. Even better. Cartographers. Cartographers?

Yes, map makers. Those who define what is what, what is where, and where everything else is relative to what and where everything is. I don't follow. Oh, you will in a moment. You see, once I'm there, I put vast amounts of your wealth into their hands and have them redraw their maps. Every year, new maps are produced of Europe, and thanks to my efforts, every year your nation gets smaller and smaller. Different chunks and

provinces of your territories are even now showing up as belonging to your neighbors. And that's a good thing. It's a great thing. Every year that passes, your country shrinks and shrinks, and its peoples become the surreptitious citizens of the nations around it. I see. A gradual diminishment. Nothing so abrupt as to bring undue attention to itself,

but given enough time... I have found the neatest, most bloodless way to literally have you and your people wiped off the map. We'll just smuggle you into all the surrounding territories. Not that it matters too much right now, of course. Your entire lands are still very much strictly under quarantine. Thank you for arranging that latest break of diphtheria, by the way. It was just the thing. But it's good to get these things down on cow skin. And you're sure this will work? The rulers of Europe are no fools. They'll see what we're doing.

Firstly, Your Majesty, having now spent some time in your neighbor's lands, I think if anything you are wildly overstating your counterparts' intelligence. But secondly, even if they do, so what? No sovereign has ever gotten far in Europe by going, now wait a minute, I'm fairly certain these lands don't actually belong to me, let's give them back to their proper owner as quickly as we can. Oh, that is a compelling point. Hmm.

Very well. If you're sure this is the way to proceed. I can guarantee that in another decade or two, there will be no map left in Europe that even hints at your nation having existed at any point in history. And then? And then comes the tricky part. That wasn't the tricky part? No, of course not. That was the easy part.

The very long, time-consuming easy part. But the easy part nonetheless. Then what on earth would be the tricky part? Well, think about it. I mean, it's one thing for a map to say that a country doesn't exist. It's quite another for it to disappear from public consciousness. People remember an uncle saying they had gone there, or an old story that took place there. In this case, out of sight does not necessarily mean out of mind. And I needed both. And you could do that? In this case, out of sight does not necessarily mean out of mind.

And I needed both. And you could do that? Well, in a manner of speaking. Although it did take me a while to come up with a way to make it happen. And even longer to make it all come together. By the next time I saw the Queen, another 13 years had gone by. Oh, you're infuriating! What?

Thirteen years! It was a very detailed plan! Your Majesty. Well, well. Your timing is impeccable. I suppose you might call it that. What is happening here? Oh, what does it look like? You're tearing down my castle. There's a shortage of stone, and parts of the city need to be rebuilt after the flood. It was the most practical solution.

I see. Besides, it was inevitable. You said it yourself all those years ago. Sooner or later we would have to rid ourselves of anything that pointed back to the kings and queens of this land. Any evidence of me or my family were ever here would need to be erased. Still, it was a lovely, if unfortunately moat-free, castle. Isn't it hard to just tear it down? Hard? This castle was constructed by my great, great-grandfather.

It was a jewel upon the sea, in the seat of my family. My father's bones rest in the crypts beneath it, the ones that we finished filling with dirt last week. Is it hard? Yes. It, like everything else about this process, is extremely hard. Yes.

My travels go well. It's been a few years now since any map in Europe showed even a trace of your nation. I've made sure of that. Good. made sure of that. Good. Yes, I've also been bribing, cajoling, tricking, or simply blackmailing as many record-keeping officials as I could get under my thumb. I figure by now the official paperwork in most of the continent describes a Europe without your nation in it.

And the...other matter? Yes, the matter of your psychic footprint, as it were. How do you get the world to completely forget about a country? Ah, see, this was the masterstroke. You don't. We take the shared idea of your kingdom existing and displace it, move it into the realm of folklore, of superstition. We make you a legend, an ancient legend. Is that so?

Oh, it very much is. I've visited all manner of scribes, libraries, archives, even some churches. Anywhere they keep things written down, and everywhere I go, certain key texts get lightly altered. Just a few superficial changes to make it so that your nation is named as part of the mythology of peoples from bygone ages. Then I've made sure copies of those documents have spread far and wide. There are some discrepancies here and there. I was working quite quickly, but I think we can shrug that off as a bit of shoddy record-keeping

work. Oh, why? There goes the foundation of the King's Tower. Well, you see, as I was saying, that's the brilliance of it. You see, we don't pretend your nation doesn't exist anymore. We pretend it never existed in the first place. It was a fairy tale, something out of a half-remembered rhyme from a far-off place. That way, if anyone claims that you and your kingdom really were here, they're suddenly not someone with an unusually sharp memory for detail, they're a delusional old fool

who can't separate fact from fiction and who's spent too much time listening to travelling minstrels and their songs. It's perfect. Heh. Your... Your Majesty? You don't seem pleased. Is everything all right? It's a brilliant plan.

I can't deny it. But? But... it's a challenge. Well, it's all been a challenge. This part especially.

To let go of our history. Of our heritage. Of everything that made us... us. I started this all those years ago to save my people. And you did? Yes, but soon they won't be my people. Many of us who were here when we started have passed on.

Others have started to believe our own lies. They think they're French, or Iberian, or Germanic. There won't be much left of us soon. You're... you're not having second thoughts, are you? Because... Of course I'm not. It was the right thing to do. And I would do it again in a heartbeat. But while I'm still the queen of an invisible kingdom, having torn down my ancestor's castle and sold my father's crown, can I not pause to feel the weight of it all? Can I not feel a twinge of pain for the fact that all my history will soon be non-existent?

Of course you can. Of course you can, Your Majesty. My sincere apologies. Of course you can, your majesty. That's better. I... Oh, oh, I've got you, I've got you. Are you all right? Fine, fine, fine. It's just a bit of a stumble. My legs are not what they used to be. I see. Well, I suppose time makes stumblers of us all, as they say.

It doesn't seem to have much of an effect on you. You seem to have scarcely aged a day since we first met. Almost 30 years ago. What's your secret? I'm sorry, Your Majesty. That's, uh, rather complicated. A story for another time, perhaps? I'm guessing that would be a challenge. And a reason for you not to hang around one place for too long.

Yes. Did you ever see the Queen again? Just once. Eighteen years later. Eighteen years. Hello? Hello, Your... Your Majesty? Ah. It's you. Oh, Your Majesty.

I've been looking for you for days. What are you doing in this... this... Oh, this ramshackle. Oh, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry.

I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh, Your Majesty, I've been looking for you for days. What are you doing in this... this... Oh, this ramshackle hut. Call things as they are. Well... Cough, cough, cough, cough, cough... Oh, um... Oh! I live here. It's a quiet place. where an old woman can see out what remains of her

days. But it's squalid. How can you be here? I mean, you're que- Oh, I know who I am. And, well, I don't have much left besides that these days. I gave it all up for the plan. Eventually, everyone that served me had to move on, had to find new parts to play. They had to feed themselves after all. Well, yes, but... What about Nestor? He doesn't seem like the sort that would abandon his queen in a place like this. No.

He wasn't. Unfortunately, he's been dead for eleven years. Oh. Right. It Oh, right. It's all right. It's what was meant to happen. Remember? Well, yes, but...

Yes, come, come, sit. Tell me, how goes the plan? Well, the plan is... The plan is done, Your Majesty. And it's been a marvelous success. What was once your kingdom is now different parts of France, Aragon, the Holy Roman Empire, and a few other kingdoms. The simulated outbreaks were slowly phased out over the course of the past two decades. Trade and travel slowly started up again and are now thriving. A generation passed on and a new one arrived. And precious few even remember that a kingdom once stood here.

Just few even remember that a kingdom once stood here. Mmm. You made us disappear. And you gave us a new life. Thank you. Oh. Oh. Oh, are you... Are you... Are you all right? Right, um... Well you're very welcome.

Nothing to thank me for really. You paid for the service and you followed every instruction to the letter. But you know, I think the plan actually worked even better than I foresaw, because I do think the legacy of your kingdom will live on after a fashion. I planted a few stories back in the day about your lands being a place of myth and legend, but even now I'm starting to see new stories emerge, ones I had nothing to do with. I mean, just this past month while waiting for breakfast at a roadside inn I heard this minstrel tell this fantastic story about three sailors who well, I won't bore you with the details But honestly your majesty, I think they'll be talking about you 1000 years from now. No 2000 years

I've even started to hear some sailors refer to the… refer to the… your majesty? Oh, right. Here lies her most imperial majesty, Basilia, first of her name, ruler of this territory and supreme protector of the ocean lands, the greatest queen of the kingdom of Atlantis. Long may she reign. Goodbye, Your Majesty. The Amelia Project is a production of Imploding Fictions. This episode featured Maeve de Bruyn as Queen Basilia, Alan Bergen as the interviewer, Julia C. Thorne as Alvina and Torgny G. Ondiro as Nesta. The episode was written by Gabrielle Urbina, with direction by Philip Thorne and Einstein

Braga, dialogue editing by Philip Thorne, sound design by Paul Kraner, music by Frederik Barden, production assistance by Marti Pazival and graphic design by Anders Perez. This is a difficult time to be making art on the internet, and sadly, we can no longer release twice monthly. From now on, we will be releasing once monthly. If you would like to support us so we can keep bringing you stories, we would be really grateful. We're a small independent team, and any support really makes a difference. The best way to support the show and team is by becoming a patron from just $5, which also gives you access to bonus content, invites

to listening parties, and new episodes a month early. To find out more, go to AmeliaPodcast.com and click on Support the Show. Thank you from the bottom of our hearts to everyone who is already a patron, and a shout out to our super patrons. At the time of recording, that's… Celeste, Joes, Heat312, Gemphidic, Alban, Asant, Amelie, and Allison, Stephanie Weithenhiller, Raphael, Eduardo, Vifas, Verastaki, Allison Thro, Patricia Bornwagner, Bryce, Godmer, Cliff Heisinger, Michael West, Tim McMackin, Lee Envy, Huardine, Mr. Squiggles, Tony Fisher, Tibby, Florian Byers, Kirtley Mays Rensen, Boo, Astra Kim,

Olivia Dodson, Philip Hanson, Michael David Smith, Alicia Hall, LG, Heldon Inkheart, Ryan Burnett, Supercali Fragilistic, xpalex, Nikol, Timoteos, Doctimus, Ben Carlisle, Miss Nixie, Mystic Sybil, Tiffany Duffy, Jason Woods, Ryan O'Mara, Christine Bayuga, Stefan Hartinger, We'll be back next month with King Arthur. The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish. My friend Shana was like, just so you know, everyone in the Villainous League is coming to kill you. And I was like, oh boy. Imagine NPR in the MCU, the Daily Planet's style desk, car talk for jet packs.

It's these American supers. 100% invisible. The speech bubble. It's sequential. The utility belt. Superhuman Public Radio is a fiction podcast telling the hilarious and heartbreaking stories of people in a super powered world.

I thought I was going to die. An invisible car in Chicago. A wee super villagevillage? These are the stories that fall between the panels of comic books. I think they knew that I didn't mean to do that to Arizona. Wasabi! Oh my god, come on, Sam! He could kill himself!

Kid, I feel like you're not giving this problem your all. No, no! But yes, I guess most people would call them a death squad. Ta-da! Superhuman public radio. Super. Human. Stories. The Radio. Superhuman stories. The only limits are your imagination,

and I have a wild imagination. New episodes every Wednesday, wherever you get your podcasts. This is SPR. Name the supervillain, and we've done the gig. But these Wall Street types that lack the answers to, yikes.