"It's not a multiple choice, Sir. That is your correct title now. The Emperor should of course be Majesty, but since that's also the title of any ruler to any Royal House, it was felt that a distinction should be made and Excellency is also an acknowledgement of his previous position as High Chancellor. His Imperial Majesty is however, also correct, which makes your title as Highness correct Form, as it would be for any heir to a throne."
Luke frowned, pushing back his plate, his provincial accent coming defensively to the fore as Reece had known it would. At the Emperor's command, after almost a year of avoidances, the Commander had finally relented and an etiquette tutor had invested a great deal of time in eradicating his Rim accent, but one could only ever overwrite such an old habit, Reece knew, never remove it entirely. It now faded in and out as Luke saw fit, depending on his audience, mood or provocation at any given time.
"Highness is just a little... you know..." Memories of Han regularly referring to Leia as 'Your Highnessness' drifted unbidden through Luke's thoughts.
Reece stifled a sigh, considering. "You could perhaps petition to be referred to on official documentation as 'The Heir'. The request could reasonably be made on the grounds that, like the Emperor, some distinction should be made between yourself and any Crown Prince to a planetary house. The title could also be used when referring to you in the third-party, which is general etiquette for someone of your stature anyway. Recognized 'Form' is for someone speaking directly to you to acknowledge you for the first time each meeting as Your Highness and subsequently as Sir."
Luke glanced at Hallin, who shrugged elaborately into his friend's distaste, "Who'd have thought a name could be this complicated?"
"Can't they just call me sir like they do now?"
"No, Sir." Reece said flatly.
"You just did."
"That's because I have already addressed you several times in this meeting, so I may now properly address you as Sir." Reece clarified in his most stately manner, always the experienced voice of decorum and Form, his many years in the Palace gaining him an extensive knowledge of such matters; surprisingly so considering he had an ex-military background, having originally come here as a Royal Guard.
Luke leaned back, uneasy; Reece's formal manner always got his back up; it was like talking to Threepio on a bad day.
"This is nothing." Hallin dismissed, "Wait until you get to who may and may not properly address you directly and how close they may stand and how they enter and leave your presence..." he paused momentarily as Luke turned to him, appalled, then shrugged apologetically; "They gave us all lessons the day before yesterday."
Exasperated, Luke twisted up and out of the chair, turning on the other two men as they both made to rise, finger pointing in warning, "Do not stand up!"
Both men froze uncomfortably as he turned and left, heading for the privacy of his withdrawing room. The silence stretched out for long minutes before Hallin asked casually, "Happy now?"
Reece settled back down, eyes on the large autoreader he had brought in with him. "I haven't even mentioned the flag yet."
"Flag?"
"He has to pick a flag.... for when he's in residency."
Hallin rose, quietly sliding the heavy carved chair back against the table with exaggerated care.
"Where are you going?" Reece asked of the medic.
"I think I'll be giving The Heir a wide berth for a few hours," Hallin observed matter-of-factly, "But good luck with that flag thing."
.
It was Mara who came to Reece's aid when she passed on yet another message from the Master of Ceremonies and Palace Protocols - apparently his fifth today - politely requesting clarification on the new Heir's decision, Reece having to admit that he had not found 'the right moment' to broach the subject of the flag yet. Mara had raised finely-arched eyebrows and turned about, retrieving the designs from the staff offices. Not even close to shoulder-height with Reece's hefty bulk, her trim, almost delicate and misleadingly non-threatening form often bought her immunity in many situations where Reece would hesitate to tread.
Knocking on the door to the drawing room she entered without hesitation, the large Autoreader under her arm, images already called up. She was her usual direct self; "You need to choose a flag."
Luke didn't even glance up from the table where he was working, automemo and stylus in hand, doors once again flung open to the morning, "Aren't you supposed to call me Highnessness or something?"
"You need to choose a flag, Highness." Mara stated without hesitation.
It had come as less of a shock to her when she'd heard a few hours before the official release that Palpatine was about to name Luke as Heir; he'd always privately made it clear to Mara that this was his ultimate aim, from the very first time she had seen him when he'd arrived unconscious, battered and bruised from Bespin. It hadn't exactly been a seamless transformation from Rebel pilot to Sith advocate and judging from Luke's less than gracious reaction to the news, more was undoubtedly still to come, but essentially the change was made and set in stone; even she could see that.
"Where's Hallin?" Luke countered as she stepped forward, throwing Mara momentarily.
"What?"
"Hallin- where's Hallin?" he repeated expectantly in that particular tone that everyone, even Mara, couldn't help but react to.
"I don't know - do you need him?"
"Yes- find him."
Mara turned about and was three steps to the door before she faltered; oh, he had the whole confident authority thing down to a tee now, she reflected irreverently. The amount of time he'd spent at the Palace and in Court, no matter how unwillingly, had forced him to learn to use every tool in his box to prevail, and his position and people's perception of such, was just one more.
Did he realize that these too were lessons Palpatine had forced upon his advocate? If he did, it didn't stop him utilizing them, but then Skywalker was nothing if not pragmatic.
"I'll organize that." Mara said aloud, turning about to set back towards him, "In the meantime, you need to look at this."
Skywalker raised his eyebrows, glancing from her to Reece, who had entered with her, clearly seeing that he was under a two-prong attack here. "Reece, find Hallin please; Commander Jade seems incapable."
Reece automatically backstepped and left the room with a sharp bow, leaving Luke and Mara to square off, Mara realizing she had just lost half her team.
Still, she kept walking, placing the automemo on the table before him, "Flags; would it kill you to choose one?"
Luke sighed, sliding the automemo away, "No, not really- I'll choose one later."
"Chose one now and then it's done."
He glowered, squinting up in the morning sun, "What - have you got someone sat at a table with needle and thread, waiting?"
Mara sat opposite him, unfazed, "If I said yes, would you pick one?"
"Aren't you supposed to wait until you're invited to sit now?"
"Who told you that?"
"Reece, and he's seldom wrong about pointless etiquette." Luke countered, pulling his own automemo back to him, which Mara had subtly slid aside when she'd put hers down before him.
"See, some of it does sink in." Mara countered, of Reece's constant lessons, turning as he re-entered the room.
"Hallin is on his way, Highness."
Luke glanced up, unamused at the title, however 'correct form' it was. "I think I'm gonna ban that right now- in fact I am. No-one uses it again."
Reece turned a long-suffering look to Mara, who shrugged; she didn't like it anyway, it didn't suit him- it was a pretentious title and he was many things but that wasn't one of them. "Well now that's sorted, could we move on to choosing a flag?"
Luke sighed, placing his automemo down with exaggerated frustration, "Why?"
"Because one needs to be flown on the pole in front of the main Monolith whenever you're in residence- which is now."