The ancient European Union is as accustomed to self-reform as a maple to dropping its leaves, but this was different. This named an Emperor, modeled on the MASONS, to “approve but not appoint” the popularly elected Prime Minister, and to “stand above” the European Parliament, Council, and Commission “as their guide, governor, and conscience.” All the old institutions would continue: the European Council composed of the heads of member nation-strats, the European Commission elected one from each member nation-strat, the Members of Parliament elected proportionally from European Members, and the Prime Minister shepherding the cats. Even Europe’s signature idiosyncrasy survived, the policy that all nation-strat Members may vote for their Commissioner and MPs, even non-Europeans, so Blacklaw Chagatai can have her say in who should represent Mongolia, Achilles in our dear Greece, and France receives votes from Humans Ganymede and Ancelet, Mitsubishi Danaë, Utopian Voltaire, even the Blacklaws at Madame’s. The creation of a European Emperor was the only real change, proof that, when burned, human habit still trusts the legends of Augustus and Charlemagne over democracy. To this new throne, a more modest proposal might have nominated Isabel Carlos de Borbón, and some modern method for selecting his successor. Instead the draft named “the Bourbon Royal House of Spain,” one line, unlimited, forever. Those who remembered the Spanish dynasty’s generations of ceaseless and heroic public service cheered. Those who, like Martin, thought of Caligula and Commodus shuddered. Those who thought of not-yet-officially Crown Prince J.E.D.D. Mason armed for war.