The Girl with No Name Copyright 2013 by Edward -EC- EC's Erotic Fiction - /~caligula97030/ (warnings: public nudity, sex between adults, corporal punishment, maledom, humiliation, war violence, occult, language) Chapter Fifteen – The Grand Duke's Favorite By the end of 1753, The Grand Duke was becoming increasingly concerned about the disappearance of the Cult of the Ancients. Their absence meant an end to the vaccination campaigns against smallpox and other illnesses. The mortality rate among the villages due to lack of medical services already was worsening, according to reports he was receiving. Contemporary European medical practices that had been discredited in the Duchy, such as bleeding, were making a comeback in some areas of the country. Meanwhile, the True Believers were encouraging their adherents to accept sickness as punishment from God and turn away from medical treatment altogether. The True Believer priests gleefully filled the void of medical services with the idea that physical suffering was the result of Divine Judgment for sin and idolatry, and for the Duchy’s refusal to submit to the Roman Church. The Grand Duke pondered how to confront the deteriorating situation of public health in the Duchy and counteract the ignorance being spewed by the True Believers. He had seen the horrid conditions in neighboring countries and did not want his realm to resemble the rest of Europe. The Cult of the Ancients had been the main reason the Duchy’s people were relatively healthy. Well, the Cult was now gone, so their services would have to be replaced. Replaced by whom? The ruler first considered trying to convince the Prophets of the Old Believers to fill the void left by the Followers of the Ancients. Their attitude towards the cosmos and to role of science certainly was better than that of the True Believers. However, relying on the Old Believers to expand their activities into medicine would increase their control of the Duchy’s society at the expense of the Royal Family. The Old Believers were strong enough as it was…the Grand Duke had no desire to see them become even stronger. The only other Danubian entity organized enough to provide health services was the Crown itself. Over time the Grand Duke would come up with a solution that would seem perfectly logical in the 20th Century, but in the middle of the 18th Century was a radical idea. Why not have the Crown control the nation’s health services? If the nation’s best medical staff were working under the direction of the Grand Duke, the True Believers would not be in a position to oppose modern medicine, because to do so would entail rebelling against the government itself. Choosing which cities would receive medical services would allow the Grand Duke to leverage support from the town councils: if a town council did not support him, he simply wouldn’t send any medical staff. The Grand Duke faced a dilemma with his idea: he did not have any precedent to provide guidance concerning how he could organize the Duchy’s doctors and bring medicinal services under his control. He understood that he needed to hire a large number of doctors as government employees, which would involve creating an organization to control their services and travels, pay them, provide supplies, compile records, and conduct medical research. The ruler would need to create a Ministry of Heath, but he did not yet understand the concept in those terms, since such a project had never been attempted by any other ruler in that part of Europe. The Grand Duke spent restless nights thinking about the Duchy’s medical dilemma. The problem was simple: the Cult of the Ancients was gone, the medical services they provided needed to be replaced, and it was up to the Crown to figure out how to replace those services. But…how? The sovereign desperately cast about for ideas; talking to his advisors and sending letters to his ambassadors asking how medical services were provided in the countries where they were stationed. At the same time he was seeking ideas from foreign capitols, he thought about the most unusual member of his concubine group, the educated peasant girl. He continued probing her knowledge of medicine and alchemy throughout November. He ordered her to assist with the delivery of some babies, including the children of several ex-concubines who had moved to the maternity area before Silvítya was brought to the castle. He was impressed with her skills and knowledge. When workers were injured from falls or soldiers were injured during combat practice, he ordered her to tie her hair and cover it with a scarf and assist with surgeries and setting broken bones. He observed her as she performed her duties with confidence. There was no doubt about it: Silvítya had received training to be a doctor from the Cult of the Ancients. At the end of November, the Grand Duke ordered Silvítya to kneel in front of him in the throne room and talk in detail about the university in Sebérnekt Ris. Then he stunned her by commenting: “I find it very interesting that you did not start your medical studies in the university. You were an advanced student, which means you were already trained by the Followers of the Ancients. I understand that you traveled with the Cult as a doctor before you ever set foot in Sebérnekt Ris. I presume you must have spent the summer of last year in Nagorónkti-Serífkti and Dagurúckt-Tók, marking the people against the pox. Before that, you spent the previous winter in the forest, receiving training and practicing your skills. Is that not so?” “Yes, Your Majesty. Your humble serving girl was there, marking the people against the pox.” “…and I am correct about your winter in the forest?” “Yes, Your Majesty. Your humble serving girl received medical training in the forest.” “…and when you were in the towns, you showed yourself to the public and performed your duties wearing a Follower’s dress?” “Yes, Your Majesty, your humble serving girl was wearing a Follower’s dress.” “…and you carried a skull staff. The Followers did not let members practice medicine if they were uninitiated and had not received their staffs. Is that not so?” “Yes, Your Majesty. Your humble serving girl carried a staff.” The Grand Duke switched to archaic Danubian. He didn’t speak it fluently, but did speak well enough make himself understood: “Excellent. So…I have, in my castle and under my command, a Follower of the Cult of the Ancients. A witness to the Old World. A woman with knowledge of the Old Ways. And…most importantly…a woman who can train my staff and teach me the secrets of the Cult’s alchemy.” Silvítya went white and tried to catch her breath. There was no point in trying to deny anything. As much as she hated the Grand Duke, she had to admire his perception, his patience, and his talent for uncovering people’s secrets. Silvítya had taken oaths not to disclose anything about her activities as a Follower. The ruler was well-aware of her oaths, so he gathered information and clues through casual comments and waited until he needed to do nothing more than force her to confirm what he already knew. The Grand Duke continued, still struggling to express himself in archaic Danubian: “I know your secrets, but not because you betrayed your oath. You remained loyal to your beliefs and your fellow Cultists. I simply outsmarted you. There are other details about your life that I know, which I will reveal to you when the moment suits me. Do you understand me, Follower Danka?” “Y…yes Your Majesty…your humble serving girl understands.” The Grand Duke switched back to speaking modern Danubian. “Excellent. I am sworn to serve the needs of the people of the Duchy and, as my humble serving girl, you will assist me. We will begin by having you tell me about the pox mark. I want to know how the scarring works. I understand there is a paste that you put on the knife before you cut a patient. So, I need to know how you create the paste, what ingredients go into it, and how you prepare the knife and the paste for making the mark. You will first tell me; then you will write the instructions on a sheet of parchment.” In a trembling voice, Silvítya obeyed, explaining how the vaccine was created, using pox from sick cows. The Grand Duke was delighted. “So…that’s the secret. Cows. Who would have thought…cows? No wonder no one else could figure it out. Now, Follower Danka, you will sit at my desk and write your formula and instructions in detail. I will re-create the pox remedy, so if you need to add any research or outside sources, you’d best include them in your report.” The Grand Duke spoke with an implied threat in his tone of voice. Silvítya suspected he knew about her relationship with Antonia and was perfectly willing to use that vulnerability against her. It would be best to avoid risking any mention of Antonia, so Silvítya humbly responded: “To hear is to obey, Your Majesty.” For several weeks the Grand Duke continued questioning Silvítya, as she knelt on hard stone floors in the cold throne room, with a shivering body and aching knees. He forced her to give up everything she knew about the Followers’ medical knowledge and Babáckt Yaga’s research. Finally he sent her into his study to write about the information she had given him. She knew that she needed to provide him with reports that were completely accurate, so she included references to Babáckt Yaga’s studies and research, which were locked in the dean’s office at the university in Sebérnekt Ris. The Grand Duke ordered soldiers to go to the university and demand the current dean surrender the Followers’ writings. When the shipment of secret documents arrived, the Grand Duke built a hidden annex to the Royal library in which to store them. He kept the only key to the room with him at all times. For months Silvítya wrote her reports, wondering what the Grand Duke planned to do with them. She answered his questions, only to be rewarded with yet more questions or a writing assignment. She dreaded the thought of the ruler asking her about Antonia, but fortunately she kept him pleased enough that he never felt a need to use that weakness against her. She also wondered if anyone from the Cult of the Ancients would attempt to retaliate for the information she was giving up. It seemed unlikely, with Fítoreckt dead and no successor taking his place, but really she had no way of knowing what was going on in Sebérnekt Ris. All she could hope was that she would be forgotten and that the Cult of the Ancients truly was defunct. ---------- Although he knew part of her real name, the ruler continued calling his concubine Servant Silvítya. It turned out he wanted her to conceal her identity from outsiders as much as she did, and had no interest in letting anyone else in the castle know that her real name was Danka or that she had been a Follower. He was not interested in protecting her, but instead protecting his own reputation and plans. Years later Silvítya would discover the sovereign copied her reports into his own handwriting so he could present them to the public and claim credit for the Followers’ discoveries. The Grand Duke impressed his ministers and foreign ambassadors with his “research”, his amazing intellect, and his understanding of science. Throughout the winter of 1753-1754, it seemed that every week he emerged from his study with a new discovery to benefit the Duchy’s people. One of his most impressive works was an account of the rat-plague that struck down the citizens of Rika Héckt-nemát, in which he speculated that it was not rats, but instead fleas, that were the culprits transmitting blood poison from person to person, which would explain why people not in direct contact with rats were still getting sick. He concluded by noting sanitation and measures to control rats (and their fleas) would prevent a similar tragedy from happening to another city. Drawing upon his tireless hours with medical journals, dedicated research, and amazing discoveries; the Grand Duke set up field hospitals and alchemy labs on the outskirts of the capitol to produce medicine and potions. As the Royal Ministry of Health and Alchemy began to take shape, the Crown hired medical students to resume the Followers’ abandoned vaccination campaign. The Grand Duke’s employees fearlessly entered towns and villages still under the control of the True Believers. Unlike the Followers, they did not have to appease town councilmen or negotiate with clergy members. They simply entered where they were ordered to go, conducted their vaccinations, and moved on. Any clergyman who objected quickly received five arrows to the chest. The townsfolk were impressed with the medical care provided by their ruler, which gained their loyalty and made them more willing to pay taxes and provide soldiers for upcoming military campaigns. The former Followers of the Ancients were not in a position to object to the Danubian ruler’s actions, claims, and plagiarisms. They were scattered, not in frequent contact with each other, and would have had to emerge from hiding to say anything. The Grand Duke’s claims that the research was his thus went uncontested. As the years passed and the Crown’s efforts to address the Duchy’s public health concerns improved, ordinary Danubians gave praise to the Creator for having granted them such a wise ruler who had taken so much trouble to become an expert in medical research. He became known as the “Great Visionary”, an unofficial title he would keep throughout the 18th and 19th Centuries. The Grand Duke’s priority was securing the Cult of the Ancients’ medical studies, but he was aware the Followers had some other interesting achievements that could benefit both the Royal Household and the people of the Duchy. Over the ensuing decade the “Great Visionary” would claim responsibility for inventing some soil management and water conservation practices, a cast-iron stove, removable wooden panels for utility buildings, and the introduction of cave- charcoal as a source of heating. The cave-charcoal was the most significant innovation introduced by the “Great Visionary”, one that would greatly reduce the unnecessary destruction of trees. As a child he had heard stories about the Followers burning magical black rocks instead of firewood. He questioned his concubine about the rocks and found out that, sure enough, the rocks really existed and there were several places in the mountains where they could be dug out. During the summer of 1754, a Royal expedition would locate the Followers’ abandoned mines and bring back the first samples of cave-charcoal to Danúbikt Móskt, allowing the Grand Duke to claim credit for introducing the Duchy to coal. ---------- During her internment in the Royal Residence, Silvítya didn’t have much news from the outside world, apart from what little the ruler chose to tell her. Every day she saw dozens, or even hundreds of castle servants, Royal Guards, ministers, scribes, soldiers, and ordinary workers, but she felt unable to talk to them about anything going on outside the fortress walls. The only source of news from the outside came whenever a new concubine was brought in to replace one who had become pregnant. The new girls rarely had anything to say that was of interest to Silvítya, since for the most part they only knew about their respective towns and families. Magdala continued leading the group and introducing newcomers to the lifestyle and shared community of the concubines. However, her stomach continued to grow, a constant reminder of her pending departure from the group and her replacement with another spokeswoman. The women were not looking forward to her exit, because she had been an excellent leader that kept problems and disputes to a minimum. It seemed that even the Grand Duke was reluctant to pull her from the concubine group and assign her to the maternity ward. She was obviously pregnant and the ruler had long since stopped having sex with her, but he left her in her position until her pregnancy had completed five months. Meanwhile, Silvítya spent endless hours with the sovereign, bathing him, massaging him, allowing him to run his hands over her body and through her hair, and submitting to his sexual desires. He enjoyed teasing her. He knew that she did not like being sodomized, so he made her bend over and traced his fingertip around her sphincter. And yet, as much as he teased her and silently threatened her, he did not actually enter her bottom. Even when having normal sex with her, he treated her decently. He did not make her participate in group sex sessions with other concubines or overtly humiliate her. He shared his supply of imported treats such as Turkish delight, flavored honey, and dried fruit. He talked to her in a perfectly normal manner, although Silvítya continued to refer to herself as “your humble serving girl”. It was obvious, to both Silvítya and the other concubines, that she had become the Grand Duke’s favorite. She suspected she would become the group’s next spokeswoman. Assuming the role of leader was not something she anticipated with happiness. She would have to deal with nine other personalities, of young women whose backgrounds were totally different from hers, and keep them out of trouble in an environment that was very stressful and very artificial. Her only recourse was to talk to Magdala about leading the concubines and speaking on their behalf. Magdala appreciated that her likely successor was seeking her insight instead of trying to do everything according to her own wishes. “The most important rule is to remember that you are responsible for everything that goes on in the group. Never try to shift blame for a problem away from yourself, even if you feel another sister is at fault or has acted foolishly. Be prepared to face the switch for someone else’s mistake. Make everyone feel included, but at the same time, make sure everyone conforms to the practices of the group. Don’t be afraid to discipline a sister for errant behavior or to correct ignorance. Do you remember how I handled you, when you dishonored yourself at the dinner table?” “Yes, Sister Magdala.” “I didn’t strike you or humiliate you or raise my voice at you, but I spoke to you in a firm manner, telling you that you needed to correct your eating habits. You will remember that I told you how to correct them, to go into the kitchen and request instruction. You always need to do that when a sister shows ignorance. Point out the problem, tell her how to correct it, and make her understand that she is responsible for doing what is needed to conform. Remember that our Paths in Life are, in some ways, very difficult, and that we must do what is needed to conform and get along with each other.” Magdala shifted uncomfortably, trying to adjust her growing stomach. She continued: “With every decision you make, every single thought that passes through your head, ask yourself: ‘how will what I’m doing benefit my fellow sisters? How will my actions and words make their Paths in Life easier?’” Silvítya interjected: “I had an idea…not to make the sisters’ lives easier, but to make our lives more useful. When you leave, there is something different that I’m planning to do…a change from the way you do things…and I want to hear your opinion. If His Majesty does indeed place me in charge of the others, I think everyone should read more and be able to discuss what they’ve read. Also, I’d like to provide some medical training.” “Medical training? You know medicine?” “Yes. And I want to teach the others.” “Where did you learn medicine, Sister Silvítya?” “Well, I didn’t tell you this earlier, but His Majesty has figured out my previous Path in Life, so I see no harm in sharing it with you. I remember you telling me that when you were in your grandfather’s house, you wanted to meet a young female Follower who was working in Dagurúckt-Tók. You’ve met her.” “You, Sister? You were a Follower?” “Yes, I was a Follower.” Silvítya could see from Magdala’s expression that a hoard of questions had crowded into her brain. It was too much to explain…to painful to have to re-tell. She didn’t want to go into detail about her time as a Follower: she had just wanted Magdala to know she was a competent field doctor. She forestalled the pending barrage of questions by giving up another piece of information. “I have a question for you, Sister Magdala. When the Followers marked you with the pox scar; who did it? Was it a young nobleman, or an older man?” “The older man.” “The older man gave up his life, a few weeks after he marked you. I was close to him when it happened. And when he died, a lot of me died with him. My Path in Life never recovered.” Silvítya paused, fighting off a sudden surge of emotion. “…and now I’m here. I’m just…here…” ---------- Magdala left the concubine group the very next day. The hairdresser braided her hair, handed her a maternity dress, and the young woman departed to lead a more normal existence in the maternity wing of the castle. Her Path in Life would return her to Dagurúckt-Tók, where she would have her own house and live on the Grand Duke’s coin as compensation for raising his child. Silvítya could tell that she was happy to be leaving behind her life as a concubine. For a moment she was envious. The Grand Duke called the nine remaining concubines into the throne room. Their naked bodies trembled in the cold, drafty chamber. Ignoring their discomfort, he ordered them to kneel in the traditional submissive posture, with the exception of Silvítya, who had to stand at attention in front of the others. “Servant Silvítya, you are now the spokeswoman for your companions. You are responsible for ensuring compliance with my wishes. You will speak on behalf of the others. You will receive and relay my orders. Do you understand?” “To hear is to obey, Your Majesty.” “Everyone else! I have made my decision concerning who speaks for you! Understood?” “To hear is to obey, Your Majesty.” ---------- Silvítya knew that she needed to start out leading the group in the same way Magdala had lead. Conformity with etiquette and protocol was important, disputes between the women needed to be avoided or settled as harmoniously as possible, and every member of the group had to look upon herself as a guardian of the well- being of the others. Silvítya did not care for the “sisters” title, but she decided to leave it in place out of deference to her predecessor. Magdala never spoke badly of another concubine, nor did she tolerate criticism of any “sister” by any other “sister”. For that reason, it was not until she left that Silvítya found out why the Grand Duke took away the position of favored concubine from Desislava. Through some comments from the other “sisters”, Silvítya found out that Desislava had not been able to keep conflict within the group under control. One personality conflict became so bad that a girl who felt wronged actually went to a matron with a complaint. The older women quickly took advantage of the situation and used the disputes as justification to whip three concubines. The Grand Duke regretted his decision of appointing Desislava to lead the group and decided to remove her. Desislava continued to be his favorite woman in bed, but she was not suited to be a leader. So, he handed to position to Magdala, a girl who he liked considerably less than Desislava, but one who was smarter and better at handling others. He replaced Magdala with Silvítya as his favorite because of her intellect, but was not sure if she would be as good a leader. Silvítya had no illusions that she could turn her companions into intellectuals and field doctors overnight. She suspected that the concubines were so set in their ways that encouraging them to alter their daily routine in any way would have to be handled with extreme tact. So, she would start out with having her companions read novels. The Royal library included a collection of light reading, which was mostly used by the matrons and some of the guards’ wives. It had never occurred to anyone to make that reading available to the concubines. She wanted to make sure the Grand Duke did not have any objections, so she openly asked if the library could provide the “sisters” with some novels and poetry. The sovereign responded that Silvítya, because she already had access, could sign-out novels just as easily as she could sign out the works she used to write her reports. She figured that she’d start by making reading voluntary, then eventually apply group pressure to force any holdouts to start reading. Her plan was to have the concubines discuss and critique novels before eventually moving on to topics such as history and religion, and finally, to medicine. ---------- Two concubines, including a girl who had been in the group before Magdala arrived, became pregnant at the beginning of 1754. That brought the number of women down to seven, the lowest number of concubines in years. The ruler continued to moderate his sexual demands with his current favorite, which meant that only six women were available to satisfy his sexual cravings. The morale of the concubine group deteriorated due to not being able to take turns resting from his rough treatment and constant demands for sex. The ruler’s guards looked around the Duchy for possible candidates to resupply the concubine pool. They found four new girls: an indebted guildsman’s daughter, a peasant girl who was spotted taking a pair of sheep to market, the illegitimate daughter of a True Believer priest, and a girl seen traveling with her family among a group of refugees. The Grand Duke’s men paid silver for the guildsman’s daughter and the peasant girl. The True Believer Priest simply handed over his daughter as a way to prevent a scandal within his church. The guards took the refugee girl in exchange allowing her family and their companions to stay in the squalid camp outside the capitol. The matrons processed the four new concubines during the last week of January. They were delighted to have the opportunity to bully and humiliate the young women, especially the peasant girl. Silvítya and Antonia stood shivering on the balcony that overlooked the castle courtyard, watching the matrons yell at and switch the newcomers. Silvítya noted the older women seemed to have become rougher and crueler in their treatment of the new recruits. Silvítya took advantage of the Grand Duke’s absence and the arrival of four new women to implement changes in the concubine group. She realized that having four new girls entering the same week gave her the opportunity to change the dynamics of the “sisters” and the small world in which they lived. She decided to keep Magdala’s “sister” for addressing the others, even though she found it annoying. However, the idle afternoons sitting in the bath and playing chess were about to end. The spokeswoman was determined that her companions could talk about outside topics, partly because she was hideously bored with the daily routine. The concubines’ Path in Life was to sit around and wait to become pregnant, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t use their time trying to improve their minds. Three of the new girls were literate, so their spokeswoman showed them a stack of novels, told them to select one, and to be ready to discuss it with the group within two weeks. A couple of the other concubines already had started reading fiction, so their leader’s plan to start a literature discussion group was about to implemented. ---------- The new peasant girl didn’t know how to read, so it would be up to the other women to correct that deficiency. When the others argued they didn’t have any experience teaching, Silvítya handed them some children’s literacy manuals borrowed from the Grand Duke’s library. She tasked Antonia with teaching the peasant girl how to eat with proper etiquette. The guildsman’s daughter was the most “typical” newcomer to the concubine group, so she fit in with no problem. She was from Starívktaki Móskt, so Silvítya was able to receive an update on the news from that city. The Senior Priest had become too sick to work and the Temple had to replace him. The scandal over what happened to his son Bagatúrckt had not died down at all. The entire province had immortalized the saga of the sophisticated but flawed young man, a man who had fallen in love with a beautiful temptress and was handed over to the Destroyer. The tragic tale and outlandish descriptions of the beauty of the seductress had become a popular topic of tavern songs and campfire poems. Silvítya thought to herself: well, I guess I won’t be returning to Starívktaki Móskt anytime soon… The priest’s daughter brought news from Sevérckt nad Gorádki. The True Believers in that city were in crisis. A group of elite families, lead by a young nobleman called Káloyankt, had publicly re-affirmed allegiance to the Grand Duke. They took their oath from a Priest and Priestess from the Great Temple in Danúbikt Móskt, which meant they had officially declared themselves Old Believers. It turned out the True Believers faction of the Danubian Church was about to lose its influence in the entire western half of the Duchy. They had been chased out of Nagorónkti-Serífkti, several leading citizens of Sevérckt nad Gorádki had defected, and no one had any news from the True Believers’ other stronghold, Rika Héckt-nemát. Silvítya sat quietly in the bath, staring at the water and lost in thought. Antonia was occupied trying to teach the peasant girl proper table manners, and thus not with her. She was glad to be alone and have the opportunity to reflect on her memories of the Cult of the Ancients and her lovers Káloyankt and Ermin. They had been so different from each other, and her relationship with each was so different. She loved them both…in different ways and for different reasons. She missed them. Ermin was dead, and as far as she was concerned, Káloyankt also was dead. The Káloyankt she had known and shared a winter with no longer existed. He was gone, nothing more than a memory. Silvítya thought about her former lover and pondered how he must have changed over the past 18 months. From the way the priest’s daughter had described him, it seemed he had become a leading voice among the town’s aristocracy. So…he had indeed found his Path in Life. She tried to imagine Káloyankt, standing in his best clothing, speaking with confidence in the city hall or from a platform in the main plaza, discussing the most important issues of the day and persuading others to follow his decisions. How different he must be from when I knew him. How different. So…Babáckt Yaga was right. It was not my Path in Life to stay with him. I would have prevented him from fulfilling his destiny. I wonder how often he thinks of me…what he remembers… I won’t ever see him again. I want Káloyankt to always remember me as I was when I wore my Follower’s dress and carried my staff. I don’t want him to think about me in any other way. I can be grateful…I guess…that he can’t see me now…I certainly wouldn’t want him to see me like this…as a concubine… ---------- The fourth new concubine’s name was Crysánkta. She was a nervous and jumpy girl, who looked around whenever she heard shouting or loud noises. Crysánkta’s family originally lived in the southernmost province of the Duchy, to the southeast of the regional capitol Hórkustk Ris and very close to the Duchy’s southern border. Crysánkta brought news from the outside, but it was news of the Duchy’s future, not of Silvítya’s past. From her reading, Silvítya was aware that the southern province of the Duchy was different from the central and eastern regions because it was not inhabited entirely by ethnic Danubians. Hórkustk Ris was a Danubian city, but the villages to the east and south were a mixture of Danubians and people who had entered from the Ottoman Empire and more recently from the Kingdom of the Moon. Danubian writers generally agreed there was likely to be a crisis in the region and that it was possible the Duchy could lose the province if nothing was done to address the rising number of foreigners. However, until late 1753, talk of a crisis was nothing more than speculation. During the 1740s and 1750s, the Duchy did not share a border with the Ottoman Empire. A Christian rebellion in the northern Ottoman territories of the Balkan Peninsula resulted in the independence of new nation called the Kingdom of the Moon. The Grand Duke’s father had welcomed the new Kingdom and even offered to send some troops to help secure its independence. However, the Kingdom’s current ruler, the Lord of the Red Moon, had not been friendly to the Duchy. When the old Grand Duke died, the neighboring ruler demanded that the new Danubian Grand Duke swear subservience to the Kingdom, pay tribute, and cede some territory. When the Grand Duke refused to cede territory, the Lord of the Red Moon quickly turned hostile. If the Danubians wouldn’t cede the territory he wanted, he’d simply take it. During late 1753, the Kingdom of the Moon sent troops into Hórkustk Ris province to seize villages and drive out ethnic Danubians. Crysánkta’s village was invaded at the beginning of December and nearly half of the Danubian civilians living in the area were massacred. The survivors fled, first to Hórkustk Ris, but then Crysánkta’s uncle decided to take the surviving members of her family to the capitol. The Grand Duke took an interest in Crysánkta and the information she provided concerning the loss of her village and the deteriorating military situation along the border. He angrily confronted his commanders for not telling him how dire things were the south. Finally, when they failed to convince him things were not as bad as he thought, the ruler decided to see for himself what was going on around Hórkustk Ris. He ordered one of his generals and two Royal Guards to disguise themselves as messengers and accompany him on a scouting trip. The Grand Duke burned with resentment that he had to ride disguised through territory he supposedly controlled. He was gone for a month, which gave the concubines a welcome break from his maniacal sex drive. ---------- Silvítya decided to take initiative with the concubines’ duty of posing for portraits. She requested an audience with the castle’s two painters to suggest they produce as many pictures as possible while the Grand Duke was absent. She hoped that if the pictures were already painted before the ruler returned, posing for portraits would be one less duty for her and her companions to worry about in the future. Silvítya took it for granted the painters knew the ruler’s preferences for art and would create paintings that pleased him. The artists agreed the idea was a good one and were happy to create works according to their own criteria and without worrying about the Grand Duke impatiently awaiting their completion. One of the paintings created that month later became the most famous piece from the Grand Duke’s collection. It was a simple image of Silvítya posing with Antonia, in which the artist captured the intimacy between the two women through their expressions. The image remained in the Grand Duke’s private study and out of public view throughout his life. It was made known to the public only after his death. While popular among foreign art fans, the picture’s portrayal of the concubines’ attachment to each other has remained controversial within Danubia. When they were not posing for portraits, the concubines spent their month-long break locked in their assigned area of the castle. Silvítya took advantage of their boredom and seclusion to implement the changes she wanted for the group. Everyone started reading and discussing novels. It was an activity the women enjoyed, so their spokeswoman decided to make them draft written reports to present to the others. It was a chance for the women to place their thoughts on paper and talk about them to a sympathetic audience. Even Antonia, who by then was sufficiently fluent in Danubian to participate, was able to give presentations to her “sisters”. Silvítya also began teaching introductory medicine, starting with the basics of childbirth and caring for common illnesses. She was pleasantly surprised when most of her companions displayed interest in what she wanted to teach. She went to the library and brought back the illustrated medical guides that were not locked away with the Followers’ books. As she led and instructed, her confidence in herself returned. She could see herself as more than the Grand Duke’s sex servant; she was actually training and guiding others.