Bastions
Chapter Forty Two: Twilight in the East
Part 5
Prelude:
Despite Doyvát the Elders's assurances, King Gunvald II died in 1367, leaving the Kingdom in the hands of his only child and his only grandson, Doyvát the Younger. The widowed King-Mother was allowed to remain in the palace, running the day-to-day affairs of the capital city. The new Queen, Mareth quickly went about asserting her own authority over the palace grounds. Doyvát the Younger was far too young to take command of Poland on his own, though he was crowned Lord-Protector of Poland shortly after his father was crowned himself. Unlike many royal families before them, the current ruling family of Prussia formed a small nuclear group that could actually live with one another in the same building. It was a strange period in Prussia's history, the number of potential heirs was quickly reduced by the civil war. The monogamy of Gunvald II and Doyvát I kept this number restricted. However, many other already existed from the descendents of previous Kings, especially Kiten. As one got farther and farther away from the current King, though, the likeliness of strong enough claim being made became less and less likely. Then eventually you got into the royalties of other countries, and not just those with former ties to the old Prussian Empire (like Hungary or Bohemia). The Mordvin Dukes, the Roman Emperor, the King of the Qurati, and the King of England all carried some amount of the Hwicce bloodline in them.
May 6th, 1367
Viba was in a mad rush to prepare the palace, much to the chagrin of the Queen. Some of the more distant members of her family were arriving to help her grieve, as well as making the first state visit to Prussia since the crowning of her new King. While his mother panicked and his wife grew more and more solitary, Doyvát enjoyed a quiet nap away from the others out in the gardens. He was surrounded by four guards, who stood at attention despite their King's loud snoring. The Queen entered the gardens surrounded by several of her personal courtiers as well as her own guard. As they grew closer to the King, one his own guards stepped out and very softly put his finger to his lips, "Shhhh... I am sorry, m'lady, but his majesty has asked for silence."
Mareth gave him a strange look and then walked past him with a huff. She stood next to Doyvát and to the surprise of all kicked his chair over without so much as saying a word. Doyvát looked up from the ground holding his head, "Indrátsak! What the hell was that for?"
"Your mother is decorating the palace in... Muslim things," the last part was said in a quiet hush as if the neighbors were listening in to their embarrassing problems.
"Muslim things? Are you serious? She is very worried about making a good impression to the diplomatic mission from the Caliphate."
"I don't see them hanging crosses up everywhere if we were to go to Barcelona! Why do you let her do these things?"
"She's my mum? Much of her family outside of Prussia is either Sunni or Frandist."
"She isn't."
"Yes, but she loves her family."
"What about us?"
"I am certain my mother loves us too; we are family after all. However, she doesn't see these people every day," Doyvát said while turning his lounge back over. He thought that the whole thing was a non-problem. He wasn't a Muslim, his mother wasn't a Muslim. Plus none of the lay actually knew what went on inside the palace; so if a Muslim paraded its halls, no one would be the wiser. "You should not worry so much. It is not like I am converting or anything."
"Why is the House of Hadad not made to convert? After everything that was done to Pagans and Catholics your family has let this infidels reside in our capital and run our armories. Can they really be trusted? Who does your mother really feel loyal to? You? Or her family?"
"That is quite enough," Doyvát said. He stood up and brushed off his jacket. "Do not point fingers at my mother. Her family keeps us linked into the mind of the Caliphate. Their friendship with Peer Txomin means that we can get information directly from the source."
"They only give you what they want you to know, Doyvát."
"And I'd be an idiot to think we got more... but knowing that little is still better to not knowing anything. Plus I feel that Txomin has a kindling love for our Kingdom. He has been instrumental to keeping the relationship between Prussia and the Caliphate cordial. That is a lot to ask for in times like this, and in a system as volatile as the Taifa system."
Mareth gave Doyvát a strange look and then shook her head and walked off. Doyvát was not particularly happy with his wife's growing rivalry with his mother, but had the feeling that there was little he could do about it. If two people wanted to fight, they would. Even a King could not stop that. But he'd be damned if he didn't try. The King walked off in the opposite direction as his Queen and headed back inside. After a bit of searching, he found his mother chatting idly with other members of her family.
"You look like you have something to say," she said. She turned to him attentively and put a smile on her face, leaving a conversation with a friend behind. "What is it?"
"I am just going to warn you that Mareth is not reacting kindly to your choice in decor for the next state visit. I am not certain what you have done, nor do I have the patience to find out. But if you could tread lighter on her feet, I would be much obliged."
Viba looked slightly hurt, "Thank you for the warning... but I have done little if anything recently regarding the decor of the palace. I have repurposed one of the rooms of my wing to be a receiving room, it has an Iberian motif."
"A Muslim motif?"
"No... well... maybe to an outsider... not just the style of painting and fresco. The only thing that might have angered her otherwise is that I had paid a cartographer to determine where to place a sun as a subtle marker for my Sunni relatives."
"Hmm..." Doyvát hummed, having already drifted out of paying attention.
"Is that a problem, my son?"
"Huh? No, not for me. As long as it is in your wing, I feel I have little right to interfere. Mareth is just not used to having to compete for control over the palace. Years in Krakowgrád have left her with a sense of control. That is all."
"I would be wise, though, not to anger the Queen. I can have it painted over." Doyvát looked at his mother; her skin was pale and freckled from the spring sun. Her hair was a golden color, unlike his dark brown. Was this the face of Islam? She looked at him uncomfortably as he stared longer.
"Sorry," he said. "Just... thinking about something else. No. I am King, and I will welcome my family be they Christian or Muslim with no worry to what any wife of mine might have to say." With a little bow he left his mother attending to her company. He had never seen Duke Mohammad von Zähringer-Holstein, but he had heard him described as a tall, fair-skinned and blond man; like a Viking of old. Doyvát looked in the mirror; the face looking back was a far cry from the Saxons of old. He suddenly felt very foreign. He shook such thoughts out of his head and walked away. But the feeling lingered, despite his efforts.
End of Chapter Forty-Two