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.