Present Day...
Rhynovia…. the city that was the namesake of a province of the Empire of Velikoslavia ruled over by princes of a branch of the royal line of Emperors since the 11th Century. The city was built at the mouth of the Rhy River which ran north to inland seas and rich fertile farmland. Princes and Princesses had ruled over this land for thousands of years as their people prospered and grew. At the dawn of the 17th Century when the Empire fell, Rhynovia was the last echo of Velikoslavia to live on and prosper, reigning over the lands south of the Nekulturnyan mountains for centuries to come. The city of Rhynovia continued to grow over time as its deep water port was the entryway for many goods coming from the east and its beautiful waterways making it a stunningly romantic city.
Only in the dark times of the early 20th Century as poverty grasped the people of Rhynovia and the Red Revolution found itself at the gates of the majestic city did Rhynovia fall into decay. But now, as the bells tolled over the Victorian architecture and the streets were mantled with Rhynovian Orange, White, and Green did the city begin to shine once more… because the Grand Duchess had returned to it.
At the heart of the city sat acres of green lawn and trimmed trees, statues of Princes restored since their destruction under the communists and white stone driveways leading to a grey palace of immense scale. The Grey Palace has been the seat of the Aristov family since the 16th Century, a complex of Victorian buildings and hundreds of rooms of various purpose. Under the new monarchy formed in 2005 the Grey Palace became the seat of the government as the residence of the Lord Governor and the massive hall that houses the Assembly of Ranks. But it did not return to its true purpose until 2016 when the Grand Duchess Karina was found and brought home to fulfil her destiny as the last Aristov heir to the crown.
She was 16 at the time of her finding, and while the government still had yet to release details of where she had been hidden up until this time, the people of Rhynovia had forgotten such questions as today was the Grand Duchesses 18th birthday. While celebrations specific to her turning 18 had been postponed, thousands from across Rhynovia and the world descended on the Grey Palace to bring forth a new chapter in the Grand Principality’s history today… the coronation of Grand Princess Karina the I.
While thousands stood on the lawn of the Grey Palace staring at large screens set up for subjects of Rhynovia to witness this event, a few hundred dignitaries of Rhynovia and from across the world gathered at the Cathedral of St. Michael the Orange just behind the main palace building to view the coronation first hand.
“Are you ready?” Grand Duke Emil Medved came behind Maria and placed a hand on her bare shoulder. The Lord Governor of Rhynovia had ruled as the interim head of state of the country since the new monarchy’s formation. However, he would be stepping down from that role today, as the young girl before him stepped up to claim her rightful crown and country. Emil was happily relinquishing this title, a burden the old man felt too heavy and grand for him. But as he swore on the first day he met the young royal come out of hiding, he would be with her to whatever end.
Maria took a deep breath in, holding it in until the last dire second as she peaked out the slit in the curtains at the thousands gathered on the lawn of the palace to watch her be crowned as their Princess. Was she ready? The wise answer to that would be no. While Maria did not see herself as wise, a touch of humility few normal 18-year-olds have, she had learned in the past 2 years since she had been brought to Rhynovia and learned of this fate that the responsibility of a nation lay on her shoulders that she better seek wisdom where she could find it. It was a burden still the thought of her running a country. It was a thought that she could not see herself bearing those 2 short years ago. Many times she woke up in cold sweats during the night as the nightmare of such power gripped her tightly.
Looking over at the Grand Duke she smiled, putting her own hand on his that lay on her shoulder as she stood there. Maria was dressed in a light pink gown with the circumference of the earth itself at her feet, a thought she had jested to the Grand Duke when she first saw it presented to her. At her tiny waist and to her shoulder she wore a sash with the colors of the Rhynovian flag, and at its peak the crest of the House of Aristov. Her brown hair was styled by the best in Rhynovia, flecked with glitter to make it sparkle as she entered the cathedral. But the one thing they could not highlight with any means of fashion were her brown eyes, their glistening that looked towards the Grand Duke was only natural as she stood there.
“How can I be ready?” She knew of all people in her life the father-like figure of Emil Medved she could truly express her feelings. She held back the tears for fear of her makeup streaking, but within herself she felt so afraid.
The Grand Duke smiled at Maria, holding her shoulder firmly despite the beautician behind him cringing as he smeared the makeup on her shoulder.
“The only time when faced with uncertain challenge that you know you are ready is when you fully understand that you cannot prepare of all uncertainty.” The Grand Duke often spoke in riddles that Maria wondered if only he could understand, yet strangely she sort of got the point he was trying to make.
Taking a shorter deep breath this time, the young girl smiled.
“Well then, I have only to dive in.” Her bravery and confidence always impressed the Grand Duke since the day they met, a girl very well composed despite the adversity that faced her. It sorrowed Emil’s heart to think that she might be this way because of the abuse she endured at Dunet’s hand.
A knock came to the door of the room just before it slid open. The guard letting in a man who was similarly dressed to the Grand Duke in ceremonial military garb with sashes and medals and honors. This man however who was much squarer of jaw and firm of flesh looked far more militaristic than the older Lord Governor.
“I have come to wish the Grand Duchess well.” The man bowed his head as he stated his intentions to the Lord Governor.
Emil’s lip turned upwards as his facial expression told the tale of his feelings towards the man before him. It was no secret he strongly disliked Duke Volodymyr the Defense Minister of Rhynovia. A man whose policies and methods were contrary to the Grand Duke’s. But while they did not see eye to eye, Emil knew that Alexi Volodymyr had Rhynovia and her people at heart. Thus, when the Assembly of Ranks suggested to the Grand Duchess he become defense minister, he left it to Maria to decide if he was the right choice.
“Very well.” The Grand Duke said in a cold manner turning towards the window, his back towards the Defense Minister.
Alexi approached Maria with a smile, his hands stretched forth as he took Maria’s palm into his and kissed the top of her hand.
“My lady, you look stunning. Never was and never will there be a more beautiful Princess of Rhynovia.”
The Lord Governor scoffed to himself. What empty words for those who knew the history of it, the only other female to have ruled over Rhynovia was Princess Anya the III and she was NOT a looker.
Maria knew little of the animosity between the Grand Duke and Duke. Only that Emil’s mood oft turned sour in his presence. The Lord Governor had been careful to not sell his personal feelings about others within the government to Maria, allowing her to form her own opinions of people and not burden her politics with the experiences of an old man. Unfortunately, this meant the silvered tongue Defense Minister was able to crawl his way into the trust of the future Princess, his military minded ideals ever in her ear.
As a girl of youth however she saw only a handsome man who had been an ex-special forces soldier with many connections as to effectively run her armed forces. And run them well as his organizational skills had set the Royal Armed Forces on a path towards total modernization, making Rhynovia’s military a force to be reckoned with.
“Thank you minister.” Maria smiled brightly as she let him kiss her hand. “I am honored to have a man such as yourself as my minister as I take on this great role.”
The Grand Duke was pleased as he had taught Maria much over two years about the pleasantries expected of her as Princess and how to woo the members of her court.
“The honor is mine, we will see the glory of Rhynovia restored together.” He bowed his head.
Emil turned around suddenly as to interrupt their pleasantries with a previous conversation the three of them has days ago. “So, you mean to go through with it?” The Grand Duke looked to Maria and the Minister.
Maria took a deep breath, knowing the Defense Minister's proposal did not meet the approval of the Lord Governor. Yet Maria trusted Duke Volodymyr, that his plan would see both the glory of Rhynovia restored and its strength apparent.
“Yes… I do.” She looked to Emil, no regret in her eyes.
“So, bet it.” Emil turned his head once more, shamed he could not talk her out of what he saw as a mistake.
At this time the door opened once more, and yet another man dressed in ceremonial garb stepped through the doorway. This one however was less decorated and plainer, yet as he entered the room Maria’s heart jumped. Kaptain Jae had been the harbinger of this new life in Rhynovia, as he led the investigation to find her and was ultimately the one to have carried her from Dunet’s grasp. Though getting to that point meant Jae had to do things that made Maria uncomfortable, so to this day when she saw the Grand Duke’s chief aide a certain tension filled her.
“Your grace, your eminences, it's time.” Jay looked at Maria standing there in her gown, a sight of angelic beauty. Yet Maria looked at Jay wide eyed, the feeling of his fingers around her throat in the street all those years ago. Jae’s eyes averted as he waited for the trio to make their way towards the cathedral.
Moments Later, In the Cathedral of St. Michael the Orange…
The nobility and dignitaries of the world had gathered. The stone cathedral with trimmings of dark Rhynovian Oak was decorated with flowers of all colors and banners of noble houses and Rhynovian royalty lining the rafters. Anthems of Rhynovia past and present were played on the organ as the patriarch of the Rhynovian Orthodox church prayed for the strength of a young girl who would lead a nation. And before the altar on which god looked down the choir of boys and girls sang praises in his name.
Suddenly the trumpets called out, their song echoing along the walls as all people rose to their feet in reverence. The rear doors to the cathedral opened, and thus began the march of fifty young girls, dressed in light pink as they threw flowers of orange, green, and white along the aisle of stone while stepping to the beat of “Royal on the Shore” played on the massive brass pipe organ.
Behind the troop of young maids came a troop of ceremonial guard, dressed in the black and green ceremonial garb of the Royal Territorial Army bearing against their shoulders pole-axes, the official national weapon of Rhynovia. They marched in two lines down the aisle, coming to the front pews where the Lord Governor and other ministers sat before they turned and faced, their unit flanking the aisle from the entrance to the altar.
Finally, the final momentous trumpet call, their sound all the louder as before the occupants of the cathedral stood the young Grand Duchess, in all the glory of the House of Aristov her beauty filled the temple before her. Taking a deep breath, the girl stepped between the ranks of her ceremonial guard, looking from side to side and smiling at the guests from around the world that had come to see her take this step. Behind her a group of young girls dressed in all colors of the Rhynovian flag held her train, and the organ music continued until she arrived at the altar where she took to both her knees and bowed her head in prayer.
“Please be seated.” The patriarch beckoned the guests to sit.
Then came what amounted to about 20 minutes of prayer and preaching, a true traditional Slavic service that seemed to go on for a time as the patriarch both spoke in English and Slavic. All the while the Grand Duchess sat upon her knees.
“And now, God has chosen unto us his master of our mortality, a girl brought back from death who he has christened to be the guardian of our nation.”
The patriarch pushed up the Grand Duchesses head, taking oil from a cup and using his thumb to spread it upon her brow as a blessing. From behind, a young boy carried a rather regal looking pillow of violet with gold trim, upon it the jeweled crown of Rhynovia in all its glory. The patriarch took it into his hands, raising it up high above the Grand Duchess’ head as he looked to heaven and said a long prayer in the Slavic tongue.
Grand Duke Emil looked across the aisle at the Defense Minister and scowled. Duke Volodymyr returned the glance with only a serious expression, it had to be done in his mind.
After the last few words of the Slavic blessing the patriarch began to lower the crown to the Grand Duchess’ brown hair that glistened with the lights of the sun stealing through the high windows of the cathedral. Just before he placed it on her, he said the words that would begin her reign.
“I now crown you Grand Princess of Rhynovia Karina of the House of Aristov, Lady of the Peariclean Sea, Protector of the Rhylands, Duchess of the City of Rhynovia, and HEIR to Velikoslavia.”