Marriage of the Emir of Wadiya [IC/OPEN]

[Soveiniesberg]

It seemed very odd that Karl had decided to arrive, as he took a seat in the back. He took out a cigarette and began to smoke it, although this may be frowned upon in Wadiya.

OOC: is this Karl the mafioso?

OOC: yes. yes it is.

[Yusufzai Swat]

OOC: is this Karl the mafioso?

OOC: yes. yes it is.

OOC:
Thanks.

IC:

It seemed very odd that Karl had decided to arrive, as he took a seat in the back. He took out a cigarette and began to smoke it, although this may be frowned upon in Wadiya.

The educated and socially elite monarch and former military officer is bemused at the invitation of a gangster to a royal wedding.

[United Wadiyan Emirates]

The Emir was meeting all the guests, shaking their hands and talking to them when suddenly he heard someone asking him something. He turned around to see a man, who appeared to be a news reporter of some sort. He also happened to come from a foreign country, notably a Western country. Emir isn't really fond of Westerners, he considers them infidels, and he certainly isn't fond of news reporters either. In an absolute state like Wadiya, no foreign press is allowed. There is just a single domestic press which is under the direct control of the Royal family. He stopped smiling and became dead serious, and replied: "It is indeed true that Princess Hagar is my second wife. My first wife Princess Ameerah is pregnant with my child. And, according to Islam I am legally allowed to have four wives simultaneously."

He was about to say more, when the Sultan of Sale-Rabat intercepted and began showing the Western reporter his place, and so the Emir stopped short and swiftly moved away from the scene.

The Emir of Wadiya smiled and greeted the Crown Prince of Portugal. He walked up to them and extended his hand, while saying at the same time: "It's such a pleasure to have both of you here. I hope the journey was without any incident?"

The dress of the women and the men shook all those who attended to the core. Especially the dress of the women. A lot of people gasped on seeing the obscenly dressed people, most men dragged away their burkha-clad wives and children away from them, while those who stayed behind tried their best to ignore them.

General Sheikh Mohammed Al-Sharawyi, the younger brother of the Emir and one of his most trusted confidants, was casually strolling the place with his 2 wives. Suddenly his eyes fell on the people of the Society of Rhea, especially the Mother, and he gasped. He ordered his servants to immediately remove his wives and three children from the site. After they had done so, he gathered up enough courage to walk up to the Mother, while trying his level best to not stare at her revealed breasts. "Who the hell are you and what are you people doing here? Your dress has crossed all levels of obscenity." he shouted at her.

The Wali of Swat asks the police to escort them out, whilst his wife looks away.

General Mohammed raises his hand, indicating that the police should stop. After they have did, he says: " Don't. Until and unless I get reply from this lady here, no one is allowed to remove her from my presence." Saying this, he once again looks at the lady and nods his head.

[Soveiniesberg]

Well, it was quite odd that Karl was there, but he continued to sit around. Maybe he would be interested in small talk, or something else.

[Yusufzai Swat]

Well, it was quite odd that Karl was there, but he continued to sit around. Maybe he would be interested in small talk, or something else.

“Hi, how’s the wife?” The Wali of Swat asked.

[Soveiniesberg]

"Oh, Yes. Yeah, uhh, she's doing fine. How's yours?"He asked, taking a look around.

OOC note: sorry for short posts, I'm a bit busy

[Yusufzai Swat]

"Oh, Yes. Yeah, uhh, she's doing fine. How's yours?"He asked, taking a look around.

OOC note: sorry for short posts, I'm a bit busy

IC: “mine is good, aren’t you dear?” He says, turning to look at his wife, “yes I am.” She says.
OOC: ok.

[Soveiniesberg]

"Well, great to know!" He chuckled, and leaned back in his seat. "Hey, do you suppose they have food here?" He asked.

[Yusufzai Swat]

"Well, great to know!" He chuckled, and leaned back in his seat. "Hey, do you suppose they have food here?" He asked.

“I’m sure they do” he said, “hospitality is very important in our religion.” He continued.

[The Neo-Minoan League]

The Wali of Swat asks the police to escort them out, whilst his wife looks away.

General Mohammed raises his hand, indicating that the police should stop. After they have did, he says: " Don't. Until and unless I get reply from this lady here, no one is allowed to remove her from my presence." Saying this, he once again looks at the lady and nods his head.

"Leave us."

In two words of Tone, the Reverend Mother dismissed the police without so much as a semblance of worry. Turning towards the general, the Reverend Mother curtsies low.

"I have been dispatched to this event as a representative of the Society of the Great Mother, as well as the League of Mount Ida, the government of the independent and neutral island of Krete. The Neo-Minoan League. We're here to represent our state and offer congratulations on your marriage." Aisha spoke politely but dismissively. "The Motherhood has taken interest in the Emir's marriage because of his bride to be. We consider the various royal families as gene pools, sources of teachings and teachers, sources of the possible. An ancient Jewish bloodline intermingling with the Wadiyan dynasty should produce interesting results. We would also give her, should [i]she accept, basic training in the arts of our order. Mental and physical conditioning, meditation techniques, self defensive martial arts."

She smiled.

"Our dress would not be required for her. This is only for those who join us on Krete."

[Yusufzai Swat]

General Mohammed raises his hand, indicating that the police should stop. After they have did, he says: " Don't. Until and unless I get reply from this lady here, no one is allowed to remove her from my presence." Saying this, he once again looks at the lady and nods his head.

"Leave us."

In two words of Tone, the Reverend Mother dismissed the police without so much as a semblance of worry. Turning towards the general, the Reverend Mother curtsies low.

"I have been dispatched to this event as a representative of the Society of the Great Mother, as well as the League of Mount Ida, the government of the independent and neutral island of Krete. The Neo-Minoan League. We're here to represent our state and offer congratulations on your marriage." Aisha spoke politely but dismissively. "The Motherhood has taken interest in the Emir's marriage because of his bride to be. We consider the various royal families as gene pools, sources of teachings and teachers, sources of the possible. An ancient Jewish bloodline intermingling with the Wadiyan dynasty should produce interesting results. We would also give her, should she accept, basic training in the arts of our order. Mental and physical conditioning, meditation techniques, self defensive martial arts."

She smiled.

"Our dress would not be required for her. This is only for those who join us on Krete."

“Would this mental conditioning have an ideological basis?” Asked the Wali of Swat.

[The Neo-Minoan League]

"Leave us."

In two words of Tone, the Reverend Mother dismissed the police without so much as a semblance of worry. Turning towards the general, the Reverend Mother curtsies low.

"I have been dispatched to this event as a representative of the Society of the Great Mother, as well as the League of Mount Ida, the government of the independent and neutral island of Krete. The Neo-Minoan League. We're here to represent our state and offer congratulations on your marriage." Aisha spoke politely but dismissively. "The Motherhood has taken interest in the Emir's marriage because of his bride to be. We consider the various royal families as gene pools, sources of teachings and teachers, sources of the possible. An ancient Jewish bloodline intermingling with the Wadiyan dynasty should produce interesting results. We would also give her, should she accept, basic training in the arts of our order. Mental and physical conditioning, meditation techniques, self defensive martial arts."

She smiled.

"Our dress would not be required for her. This is only for those who join us on Krete."

“Would this mental conditioning have an ideological basis?” Asked the Wali of Swat.

"Not in the way you're implying, Wali." Aisha said politely. "We aren't going to have her preaching against Islam, nor the tyranny of men. We have two teachings for mental conditioning. Show him. Recite from memory the teachings, 'daughter.'"

One of her attendtants stepped forward and bowed. Standing again, her eyes seemed to flicker. She recited, word for word, from the Book of The Motherhood.

The basic premise of the training is found in ancient Greek in which the path to the truth is called “Aletheia”. Aletheia allows an internal realization of truth which identifies the knower with an immutable reality. The Rhean Motherhood Way also identifies the knower with reality, but denies immutability. Thus the axiom: "The purpose of argument is to change the nature of truth." The same conditioning processes, however, are used to attain Aletheia. The key to both is achieving harmony and tranquility through establishing balance within the individual. This balance is achieved through austere regimens which control and organize the psychic and physical forces of the body, and concentrate one's powers; meditation which allows one to go deep within oneself to find the link between the internal forces, the point of balance between knowing the body and knowing the mind.

The mental self is trained through “Logos” - a discipline which controlled reasoning. Logos pairs linguistics and logic in order that the individual can distinguish between language and meaning. The student is constantly taught that a sentence means more than the meaning of the individual words, that it includes the physical activity which accompanied the act of speaking. The observer, therefore, has to be able to "read" and "register" the gestalt of the speaker, has to be able to understand the linguistic patterns of thought conveyed through the immediate language, and has to be able to synthesize all these channels instantly in order to understand completely what actually was being "said." Thus, in the process of learning, the student has to completely control the internal sources - her own physical, mental, and emotional condition at the time of synthesis - and totally perceive the external sources - the environment of the speaker, the physical and psychic gestalt of the speaker, the cultural undertones of the language, and the actual overtones of the word sets being used.

Reverend Mother clapped and congratulated he student. The student also noted that any training for the Emira would be a limited version of this, as a full regimen requires the woman be trained from early childhood.

"As you see Wali, we're not brainwashing our trainees. The opposite." She spoke. "We train them to rid their minds of the Ghafla."

[Yusufzai Swat]

“Would this mental conditioning have an ideological basis?” Asked the Wali of Swat.

"Not in the way you're implying, Wali." Aisha said politely. "We aren't going to have her preaching against Islam, nor the tyranny of men. We have two teachings for mental conditioning. Show him. Recite from memory the teachings, 'daughter.'"

One of her attendtants stepped forward and bowed. Standing again, her eyes seemed to flicker. She recited, word for word, from the Book of The Motherhood.

The basic premise of the training is found in ancient Greek in which the path to the truth is called “Aletheia”. Aletheia allows an internal realization of truth which identifies the knower with an immutable reality. The Rhean Motherhood Way also identifies the knower with reality, but denies immutability. Thus the axiom: "The purpose of argument is to change the nature of truth." The same conditioning processes, however, are used to attain Aletheia. The key to both is achieving harmony and tranquility through establishing balance within the individual. This balance is achieved through austere regimens which control and organize the psychic and physical forces of the body, and concentrate one's powers; meditation which allows one to go deep within oneself to find the link between the internal forces, the point of balance between knowing the body and knowing the mind.

The mental self is trained through “Logos” - a discipline which controlled reasoning. Logos pairs linguistics and logic in order that the individual can distinguish between language and meaning. The student is constantly taught that a sentence means more than the meaning of the individual words, that it includes the physical activity which accompanied the act of speaking. The observer, therefore, has to be able to "read" and "register" the gestalt of the speaker, has to be able to understand the linguistic patterns of thought conveyed through the immediate language, and has to be able to synthesize all these channels instantly in order to understand completely what actually was being "said." Thus, in the process of learning, the student has to completely control the internal sources - her own physical, mental, and emotional condition at the time of synthesis - and totally perceive the external sources - the environment of the speaker, the physical and psychic gestalt of the speaker, the cultural undertones of the language, and the actual overtones of the word sets being used.

Reverend Mother clapped and congratulated he student. The student also noted that any training for the Emira would be a limited version of this, as a full regimen requires the woman be trained from early childhood.

"As you see Wali, we're not brainwashing our trainees. The opposite." She spoke. "We train them to rid their minds of the Ghafla."

“Mashallah.” Said the Wali, who clearly thinks the Emir should approve this kind of training for his wife.

[Soveiniesberg]

Well, Karl listened to this whole conversation. "Interesting, to say the least!" He leaned back in his chair.

[Reorganized Portugal]

Crown Prince Afonso and his wife Maria arrive. Afonso is wearing a plain black suit and tie, with a Portuguese flag pin, and Maria is wearing a red dress with a hat with the Portuguese coat of arms embroidered onto it.

The Emir of Wadiya smiled and greeted the Crown Prince of Portugal. He walked up to them and extended his hand, while saying at the same time: "It's such a pleasure to have both of you here. I hope the journey was without any incident?"

The Crown Prince smiled. "There was mild turbulence on our flight over, but nothing serious."
*a large group of men in camouflage suits and pistols arrive. They step out of their cars and take place around the Crown Prince*
"I apologize for the large security, my father wanted to ensure my safety."

[Mareyland]

Reverend Mother clapped and congratulated he student. The student also noted that any training for the Emira would be a limited version of this, as a full regimen requires the woman be trained from early childhood.

"As you see Wali, we're not brainwashing our trainees. The opposite." She spoke. "We train them to rid their minds of the Ghafla."

This was all far more interesting to Daniel Jessup than pestering the Sultan of Sale-Rabat. "Excuse me," he said to the monarch. "I'll come back for your answers later. I need to go speak with this Reverend Mother of theirs." Without waiting for any sort of reply, Daniel turned his back on the Sultan and strode quickly over to the menagerie from Krete.

"Ma'am? Daniel Jessup, the National Gazette of Mareyland. Do you mind answering some questions?" He did not wait for an affirmative response. "What is that thing you mentioned, the Ghafla?" He no doubt horribly mispronounced the word.

[The Neo-Minoan League]

Reverend Mother clapped and congratulated he student. The student also noted that any training for the Emira would be a limited version of this, as a full regimen requires the woman be trained from early childhood.

"As you see Wali, we're not brainwashing our trainees. The opposite." She spoke. "We train them to rid their minds of the Ghafla."

This was all far more interesting to Daniel Jessup than pestering the Sultan of Sale-Rabat. "Excuse me," he said to the monarch. "I'll come back for your answers later. I need to go speak with this Reverend Mother of theirs." Without waiting for any sort of reply, Daniel turned his back on the Sultan and strode quickly over to the menagerie from Krete.

"Ma'am? Daniel Jessup, the National Gazette of Mareyland. Do you mind answering some questions?" He did not wait for an affirmative response. "What is that thing you mentioned, the Ghafla?" He no doubt horribly mispronounced the word.

"Ghafla, an Arabic term important to the Sufis, means anything that distracts one from God." The Reverend Mother replied. "Our trainnig teaches women to parse every bit of information they hear or observe, remove any unnecessary nonsense, and come to a better understanding of the world from an objective viewpoint. We create analytical, critical, and strong minds."

[Sale-Rabat]

The Sultan tells him that if he keeps behaving like that, he might get expelled of the country by the Emir of Wadiyah, and that he would gladly help him to.

-Listen, I know in your country people have no respect to your rulers, because instead of being elected by ALLAH, they are elected by the people. I am not going to change that, but in my country and in Wadiyah, leaders, be it sultans or emirs are respected and feared, because fearing them is fearing Allah.

Daniel Jessup looked up from his notebook in confused. He had not noticed the Sultan return to the wedding venue after being carried out on his palanquin.

"I live in a democracy, sir," Daniel said. "And proud of it. But since you want to talk, I have some questions for you - how did you come to adopt this woman, exactly? Was this marriage your idea? Did she have a chance to say no to your choice of husband?"

I adopted her in a state visit to Israel, in an orphanage, after their parents had been killed by gangsters and terrorism and no, she didn't have a choice, so what? We do not believe in this stupid western thing called "free love". Yes, it was my idea.

[Soveiniesberg]

Karl, upon hearing this being said by the man from Sale-Rabat, frowned. He started to back away a bit, and sat down in his seat again. He mumbled something about something and turned his head over at the Minoan woman.

[Sale-Rabat]

Karl, upon hearing this being said by the man from Sale-Rabat, frowned. He started to back away a bit, and sat down in his seat again. He mumbled something about something and turned his head over at the Minoan woman.

-Why are you so surprised? Why you all Westerners think that we have the same depraved ideas than you all?-says the sultan.

After that, he leaves to his hotel, having gone to search something.

-Remember Isabelle? He says to the Emir of Wadiyah?

[United Wadiyan Emirates]

"Leave us."

In two words of Tone, the Reverend Mother dismissed the police without so much as a semblance of worry. Turning towards the general, the Reverend Mother curtsies low.

"I have been dispatched to this event as a representative of the Society of the Great Mother, as well as the League of Mount Ida, the government of the independent and neutral island of Krete. The Neo-Minoan League. We're here to represent our state and offer congratulations on your marriage." Aisha spoke politely but dismissively. "The Motherhood has taken interest in the Emir's marriage because of his bride to be. We consider the various royal families as gene pools, sources of teachings and teachers, sources of the possible. An ancient Jewish bloodline intermingling with the Wadiyan dynasty should produce interesting results. We would also give her, should she accept, basic training in the arts of our order. Mental and physical conditioning, meditation techniques, self defensive martial arts."

She smiled.

"Our dress would not be required for her. This is only for those who join us on Krete."

General Mohammed looked sceptical. He was about to ask the Mother something, when the the Wali of Yusufzai Swat asked her another pertinent question to which he simply nodded his head. After he had heard the answer, he went up to the Mother and told her: "Look, it's not my wedding it's my brother's wedding, so I think you are here to congratulate him not me. Also the women in question is his wife and I can not take a decision unilaterally. I highly doubt whether he would accept this request of yours, but there is no harm in asking I guess. So please wait here, while I go and call him."

He turned to leave but stopped midway. He once again turned back and looked at the Mother and spoke with a tone of determination "Although I would like to insist that all the representatives of the Society of Great Mother please go to that room." He pointed towards a large airconditioned luxury room near the place where they were standing. He gave a small smile, and continued: "You see, your dress is not really permitted according to the values of Islam. On the contrary it is considered blasphemy according to Wadiyan laws. I have already seen these people getting enough cultural shocks on seeing our dress, I dont any more people to get any more cultural shock. So please wait in that room."

Saying this, he finally turned to leave.

The Crown Prince smiled. "There was mild turbulence on our flight over, but nothing serious."
*a large group of men in camouflage suits and pistols arrive. They step out of their cars and take place around the Crown Prince*
"I apologize for the large security, my father wanted to ensure my safety."

"Oh that's alright I understand." the Emir smiled as he said this. He was having a pleasant conversation with the Royal Couple, when his brother came from behind and began nudging him. "What's this Mohammed? Cant you see I am talking to a guest?" he whispered angrily. "It's urgent brother." Mohammed replied.
"Is it?" saying this the Emir turned to the Crown Prince and smiled aplogetically "I have been reminded of a very important work, Mr. Alonso. Please enjoy the food. I will be back in a moment."

As he was walking, Mohammed explained to Emir Khalifah everything. On entering the room and seeing the guests from Krete, the Emir gasped in horror "Shubanallah! What is this?!" he shouted and pointed at her dress. Mohammed calmed him and told him everything. The Emir was still suspicious, yet he now looked at the Mother and told her: "Yes, I am the Emir and this is my wedding. What is that thing you were talking about earlier?"

[The Neo-Minoan League]

General Mohammed looked sceptical. He was about to ask the Mother something, when the the Wali of Yusufzai Swat asked her another pertinent question to which he simply nodded his head. After he had heard the answer, he went up to the Mother and told her: "Look, it's not my wedding it's my brother's wedding, so I think you are here to congratulate him not me. Also the women in question is his wife and I can not take a decision unilaterally. I highly doubt whether he would accept this request of yours, but there is no harm in asking I guess. So please wait here, while I go and call him."

He turned to leave but stopped midway. He once again turned back and looked at the Mother and spoke with a tone of determination "Although I would like to insist that all the representatives of the Society of Great Mother please go to that room." He pointed towards a large airconditioned luxury room near the place where they were standing. He gave a small smile, and continued: "You see, your dress is not really permitted according to the values of Islam. On the contrary it is considered blasphemy according to Wadiyan laws. I have already seen these people getting enough cultural shocks on seeing our dress, I dont any more people to get any more cultural shock. So please wait in that room."

Saying this, he finally turned to leave.

Daniel Jessup looked up from his notebook in confused. He had not noticed the Sultan return to the wedding venue after being carried out on his palanquin.

"I live in a democracy, sir," Daniel said. "And proud of it. But since you want to talk, I have some questions for you - how did you come to adopt this woman, exactly? Was this marriage your idea? Did she have a chance to say no to your choice of husband?"

I adopted her in a state visit to Israel, in an orphanage, after their parents had been killed by gangsters and terrorism and no, she didn't have a choice, so what? We do not believe in this stupid western thing called "free love". Yes, it was my idea.

"No." The Reverend Mother responded politely. "Come." Signalling to her attendants, they entered the mosque and took their seats for the wedding. There they overhead the Sultan's discussion with the gentleman from Mareyland. The attendants did little to mask their looks of disgust and condescension towards the sultan as he blithely admitted into forcing his own adopted daughter into marriage.

Turning to the gentleman from Mareyland, the Reverend Mother spoke honestly with a tone of derision.

"As we can see, this is no wedding. It is a mercantile sale. A peddling of flesh for personal political power." Aisha said. "This is why our country (my true country, even though I was born not far from here) was founded, why our organization exists. To aid in the end of horrific barbarity such as this. We have our own breeding program, that is true. Yet ours is voluntary. At its worst, coercive, from a certain point-of-view...but only coercive towards the male side. 'The work to which we have set ourselves is the liberating of the imagination, the harnessing of imagination to humankind's deepest sense of creativity.' We are cultivating humankind's nobility, this...."

She gestures towards the rest of the room, and towards the mosque itself

"....cultivates its continuing degradation."

[Sale-Rabat]

General Mohammed looked sceptical. He was about to ask the Mother something, when the the Wali of Yusufzai Swat asked her another pertinent question to which he simply nodded his head. After he had heard the answer, he went up to the Mother and told her: "Look, it's not my wedding it's my brother's wedding, so I think you are here to congratulate him not me. Also the women in question is his wife and I can not take a decision unilaterally. I highly doubt whether he would accept this request of yours, but there is no harm in asking I guess. So please wait here, while I go and call him."

He turned to leave but stopped midway. He once again turned back and looked at the Mother and spoke with a tone of determination "Although I would like to insist that all the representatives of the Society of Great Mother please go to that room." He pointed towards a large airconditioned luxury room near the place where they were standing. He gave a small smile, and continued: "You see, your dress is not really permitted according to the values of Islam. On the contrary it is considered blasphemy according to Wadiyan laws. I have already seen these people getting enough cultural shocks on seeing our dress, I dont any more people to get any more cultural shock. So please wait in that room."

Saying this, he finally turned to leave.

I adopted her in a state visit to Israel, in an orphanage, after their parents had been killed by gangsters and terrorism and no, she didn't have a choice, so what? We do not believe in this stupid western thing called "free love". Yes, it was my idea.

"No." The Reverend Mother responded politely. "Come." Signalling to her attendants, they entered the mosque and took their seats for the wedding. There they overhead the Sultan's discussion with the gentleman from Mareyland. The attendants did little to mask their looks of disgust and condescension towards the sultan as he blithely admitted into forcing his own adopted daughter into marriage.

Turning to the gentleman from Mareyland, the Reverend Mother spoke honestly with a tone of derision.

"As we can see, this is no wedding. It is a mercantile sale. A peddling of flesh for personal political power." Aisha said. "This is why our country (my true country, even though I was born not far from here) was founded, why our organization exists. To aid in the end of horrific barbarity such as this. We have our own breeding program, that is true. Yet ours is voluntary. At its worst, coercive, from a certain point-of-view...but only coercive towards the male side. 'The work to which we have set ourselves is the liberating of the imagination, the harnessing of imagination to humankind's deepest sense of creativity.' We are cultivating humankind's nobility, this...."

She gestures towards the rest of the room, and towards the mosque itself

"....cultivates its continuing degradation."

It has always been the tradition of Islam that parents decide who will their daughter marry. Hagar! Come here, my diamond.

-Yes, father?-says the newlywed 18year old, making a slight reverence to the Sultan of Salé-Rabat.

-Were you forced in your marriage?

-No, father, in Islam, parents, not the future newlyweds, choose who their children will marry, not children themselves, because otherwise, lots of persons, be it males or females, will not be able to marry due to being rejected by physical or emotional reasons. It doesn't matter if I like or not my husband, it only matters that ALLAH (all praise be to ALLAH!) decided that my father will marry me to the Emir of Wadiyah, and I not have the right to contradict the will of ALLAH, because he is most powerful, more compassionate, she says.

-See?-says the Sultan, will you believe it if she says it? GO ALREADY!-he says to his daughter when he sees she stood there listening to the conversation.

[The Neo-Minoan League]

"No." The Reverend Mother responded politely. "Come." Signalling to her attendants, they entered the mosque and took their seats for the wedding. There they overhead the Sultan's discussion with the gentleman from Mareyland. The attendants did little to mask their looks of disgust and condescension towards the sultan as he blithely admitted into forcing his own adopted daughter into marriage.

Turning to the gentleman from Mareyland, the Reverend Mother spoke honestly with a tone of derision.

"As we can see, this is no wedding. It is a mercantile sale. A peddling of flesh for personal political power." Aisha said. "This is why our country (my true country, even though I was born not far from here) was founded, why our organization exists. To aid in the end of horrific barbarity such as this. We have our own breeding program, that is true. Yet ours is voluntary. At its worst, coercive, from a certain point-of-view...but only coercive towards the male side. 'The work to which we have set ourselves is the liberating of the imagination, the harnessing of imagination to humankind's deepest sense of creativity.' We are cultivating humankind's nobility, this...."

She gestures towards the rest of the room, and towards the mosque itself

"....cultivates its continuing degradation."

It has always been the tradition of Islam that parents decide who will their daughter marry. Hagar! Come here, my diamond.

-Yes, father?-says the newlywed 18year old, making a slight reverence to the Sultan of Salé-Rabat.

-Were you forced in your marriage?

-No, father, in Islam, parents, not the future newlyweds, choose who their children will marry, not children themselves, because otherwise, lots of persons, be it males or females, will not be able to marry due to being rejected by physical or emotional reasons. It doesn't matter if I like or not my husband, it only matters that ALLAH (all praise be to ALLAH!) decided that my father will marry me to the Emir of Wadiyah, and I not have the right to contradict the will of ALLAH, because he is most powerful, more compassionate, she says.

-See?-says the Sultan, will you believe it if she says it? GO ALREADY!-he says to his daughter when he sees she stood there listening to the conversation.

"The words of a slave in front of her master. We have seen it many times before." Aisha replied with venom. "Girl, you are an adult, free to make your own choices. If you wished to marry the emir out of your choice and your choice alone, than that is reasonable. But this? Slavery. If it is the will of Allah, then Allah is not worth an ounce of worship. Nor even the minimum of respect."

[Reorganized Portugal]

"Oh that's alright I understand." the Emir smiled as he said this. He was having a pleasant conversation with the Royal Couple, when his brother came from behind and began nudging him. "What's this Mohammed? Cant you see I am talking to a guest?" he whispered angrily. "It's urgent brother." Mohammed replied.
"Is it?" saying this the Emir turned to the Crown Prince and smiled aplogetically "I have been reminded of a very important work, Mr. Alonso. Please enjoy the food. I will be back in a moment."

"Well, that was interesting." Maria said to her husband.
"I suppose so. Well, might as well try some Wadiyan cuisine."

The couple tried some of the food.