Spring had come to Bendas. And with it, like the blossoming of new flowers, the offers for the hand of the most eligible woman on the continent, Queen Oiyora of Turanda. Must to Her Majesty’s own annoyance.
At 22 the Queen of Turanda had reigned for five years, and it seemed to her from the moment she took the throne that there was the push to marry her off. Quietly literally dozens of princes, nobles even an odd king had sought after her hand in matrimony. And while the Queen had show interest in some, in the end she had thus far rejected them all. And yet with each passing day the offers arose, and her ministers persuaded her to consider the matter seriously.
This pressure has only grown under the oppressive presence of Prime Minister Oluwafuntun Mayowa, who thought it a necessary aspect of a queen to have a spouse. Having rejected half the noblewomen thrown at her from Wattingham, she had relented at the suggestion of her cousin and friend, the Queen of the Meyarines to meet with her stepsons. Thus once again the Queen opened the doors of Ahamigaba, that grand palace of grand golden gates, bejeweled arcades and beneath domes topped with green tinted glass oculus, its fountains bubbling with cheerful sounds, the air perfumed with the scent from flowers and fruits to courtship.
The city of Bendas sat on the southern shore of the Bay of Bendas, a crescent of white and red brick buildings, it hugged water. Far in the distance, rising inland were the Turandan Alps, mountains that ran down the spine of Turanda proper, while to the north, just sixty miles across the waves lay the vast flat Northern Territories that had been conquered shortly before the inception of the kingdom. Bendas, like the vast majority of the realm over which it ruled, was a hot arid city, only moderated by the winds from the bay which brought with it moisture and gave birth to fine clutches of greenery and palms. Neither the largest city, nor particularly large, its historical value and central location won it the position of the capital.
In the heart of the city was Independence Square, where a great obelisk had been erected to honor those who had seen the nation freed. In that square too was the great Saint Abbaguba’s Cathedral, the nation's center of religious life. A few blocks to the northwest of the square were the great bone white ruins of the Pupalcazar, where the government of the Obasey Regime had ruled and had collapsed. A few blocks to the southeast of the square rose the General Assembly Building and the Awo Ewe Mosque, for while orthodoxy ruled the nation, Islam came in second for most adherents, though the number grew smaller and smaller with each day. Directly south of Independence Square along the main boulevard was the Great Al-Oja, a great colorful open-air market.
It was further south of the Great Al-Oja that the monuments of Queen Oiyora's reign appeared. There was the Queen's Circle, a roundabout that had in its center a golden bronze statue of Turanda's lovely young queen. The west on the outskirts of the city, where palm trees fell away to shallow hillsides of savanna, was the Bendas International Airport, a small if new structure rarely used as few made their destination to Bendas, and few Turandans could afford flights abroad. But outshining all of the above, resting on the red hills that rose up from the southern edge of the city so that it could look over all that the Queen ruled, was her thus far crowning achievement, the Ahamigaba.
Having after years on construction finally completed, the Ahamigaba was designed by Sisi L.V. Nongxa, whom Queen Oiyora had hand selected. Nongxa had thus produced for the young queen a residential fortress that befitted an empress. Its high red walls were artfully decorated in the mudejar style, its ornate geometric designs dazzling in patterns of green and gold octogons that resembled the extended features of the Valwa peacock. Its red towers were caped with golden domes that, when the sun struck it in the afternoon, blinded those who approached. Perched between the stones of the city and yellow grasses of the wild savanna the great awe of the Ahamigaba was its greenery.
Palm trees, bananas trees and chestnut trees intermingled with hyacinths, carnations, and jacarandas. Gardens were nestled in vast lush courtyards, lined with arcades and colonnades with breathtaking tiles, and ever bubbling fountains in their hearts. Guinea fowl and peacocks and their mates walked freely amongst the fruit trees and manicured lawns. The peacocks, a gift from her grandaunt, were specifically bred ones to look like those on the Queen's coat of arms, with gold yellow feathers and ornate tail feathers.
It’s sprawling galleries and staterooms, grand wings and courtyards made it a miniature city in it own right. The expense had been outstanding, so called heart attack inducing and yet one need only to see it to know it well worth every penny. It was said that as much water was used at the Ahamigaba was used by a quarter of the capital's populace. And the fountains in truth only ever ran when the Queen was around. Still, it was agreed by all who lived in its shadow (figuratively at least as Nongxa saw to it that its position saw the palace constantly bathed in sunlight) asserted that it was the most beautiful structure in the nation, perhaps the whole of the world. It was the true crown jewel of the Queen’s realm.