Under the high sun, an engulfing wall of water, dark stone, and brick reached into the sky, as the faint winds carried the scattered clouds and their shadows over the barriers of men with ease. The towers and the archers that manned them could do naught against the tide that brought them forth. Though their eyes were not turned to the vast space above, but rather to the mob that snaked their way through the city, all for the chance of a view of a motionless body that held royal blood.

In Székesfehérvár they gathered, their bodies pressed against each other, from the rich to the laziest of beggars, as they crossed below the gatehouse and into the shadow of great cathedral.

Its tall two towers tried to scratch the sky, as their ornate design left the jaws of those to see them fall to the ground. Though, while most gazed up at it with the wonder of a child, those of wisdom and invitation kept their eyes focused on the closed doors as they waited.

With a sudden sound that shook the sky and forced the birds that clung to the city to take flight, the bells rang loudly. Their rings echoed one after another, summoning all to heed the event and forcing the mob to grow vibrant and restless.

"LOOK!" a soul in the mob shouted.

A procession of substance and wealth, those of nobility, affluence, and connections rode their way through the city streets, past the eyes of the world beside them and into the cathedral. There they embraced the scene of some who mourned in its sheltered embrace, while for the majority, they cast aside such commotion and settled into the politics that dominated even a widow.

Queen Elizabeth stood draped in black, her position fixed and her eyes on the altar and those who contended with the ceremony. She watched, as those who had been granted entry made their way to her late husband and offered the illusion of respect, before they quickly vanished to their task of securing their purses and coffers under the rhetoric of a once again great Kingdom. They gathered in their groups, buzzing to one another like busy bees. Though, while they caught the Queen's eyes, her gaze was suddenly pulled as her own daughters made an appearance at the altar.

They stood side by side, under the watchful eyes of the world, one with fair hair falling to her shoulders, the other with dark hair nestled tightly beneath a hairpiece and accompanied by Helene's husband Johann. Though, even such things as being left to mourn could not go undisturbed.

"How are you my queen?" Count Ulrich Cillei said with a bow. Silver trimmed his hair, as the otherwise brown head and dark eyes gave him an air of elegance and grace. Only the stubble of a beard permeated on his face, though a large gut pressed out his belly.

A weary smile formed on Elizabeth's lips as she reached for his hand and took it in hers and ushered him to rise. "I am well, all things considered. Tired, but I seem to have my health."

"And your daughters?" Ulrich asked, gesturing to them. "They seem to be taking it well. It seems they have inherited your resolve."

"I fear it is because they did not know their father that well," Elizabeth confessed. "All day with the nanny or tutors. Interactions with their father were limited to a simple passing embrace, where masks and customs must be worn and enforced. It is a hard thing to feel sorrow for a stranger and they are too young to know any better. I think they will one day understand. I know I eventually did."

"The cost of power some would say," Ulrich said with nod. "I'm sure they will one day understand. As we will as well."

A faint smile grew over Elizabeth as she gave the man a subtle nod. "Even though my husband, the King, still lays above the ground, there seems to be no shortage of men who wish to fill the void left by him."

"If there is anything you need, you simply need to say the word," Ulrich quickly stated. "Anything. As you are the Queen and may shape the world to your liking. I would be happy to lend you my support."

"There was something," Elizabeth mentioned. "More of a question than a favor."

"One often comes before the other," Ulrich replied with a smile. "I will try to complete both if able."

"Well it is something I noticed," Elizabeth said softly as the ceremony progressed. "Where are the Crown Jewels?"

For the briefest of moments, Ulrich was taken aback, as the weight of the words seemed too heavy for his shoulders to bear. Yet, while he seemed trapped by the Queen's words, he stroked his beard, washing away the shocked expression and replacing it with a deep look. "They were moved. They were moved to Plintenburg Castle for safety."

"Why were they moved there?" Elizabeth asked.

"Customary," Ulrich replied suddenly and seemingly calmly, as if contended to the path he had chosen. "Unfortunately. The Bishop of Gran died and now with the succession it must be held carefully to avoid a disaster. That is what the new keeper of the Crown, Count Gorge, along with all the others are thinking. Can't have any fool that wants to simply put on the Crown and claim the throne. Too dangerous, even for an unjust successor. Could you imagine, anyone you wanted could be made King."

"I can only hope then that it will be kept safe," Elizabeth said giving a few nods to those who passed before her. "I would not want anyone getting their hands on it. Not until they are needed for a rightful heir."

"That would be very hard," Ulrich said as he too gave a few nods to those that passed before them. "It is under Count Gorge's watch. The man is not good at much, but at defense and keeping a tight grip, he is second to none."

"And with women," Elizabeth added. "Spends a lot of time chasing women. Married women, noble women, women who do not want his attention or advancement. All manner of women."

"And with women," Ulrich agreed with a nod. "That he does too. That he does."

"One might think that it would create a hole in the Crown's protection," Elizabeth said, pondering out loud. "But I'm sure that there are other means besides one man to cause the Crown to be taken."

"Indeed, there are," Ulrich replied with the faint hint of a smile, though quickly brought his hand to hide it. "But the structure that it is kept in makes up for certain shortcomings, or as you said, holes. Many call it a castle, but it is much more than that. It is one of the greatest structures in the Kingdom, in terms of defense and security. Anyway, the structure it is in now, is one of the great ones. It could hold out for months in a bad situation. And in a good one, possibly years. Its walls are thick and high..." Before he could finish, he drifted off for a moment, as the stifled hint of a smile grew once again.

"Thinking about something thick and high, perhaps?" Elizabeth asked, as she forced a faint and nearly indistinguishable blush on her company's cheeks. "Your wife?"

A faint cough left Ulrich's lips, as he shifted his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. "Right then. Where was I?"

"High and thick," Elizabeth replied, much to the amusement of Helene who giggled and smiled under her veiled hand before moving to tend to the next task required of her.

"Well, there are many guards," Ulrich continued with a nod. "Many within on watch. Many on the wall on watch. Many on the towers on watch. Even many on horseback to depart and peruse on watch. We can thank the Ottomans for the need of so many."

"And I suppose that the stone and men are not the only obstacle?" Elizabeth asked.

"Quite right, then there is the door," Ulrich confirmed with a nod. "I don't mean to say the door to the castle, which in itself I would call impenetrable without the right numbers. No, not the gate. I mean to say, the door the Crown is kept behind. That is as thick as the royal vault and with locks that would take ages to break. But, that is just my observation. One observation I have made in person a few times, but one none the less I have made."

Elizabeth was silent for a moment, as she mirrored the nods of those that continued to pass by; playing her part as widow.

"By the sound of what you have told me, it would seem that an army would be needed to get the Crown from where it has been placed," she finally said. "Either that, or another way in."

"I pray you don't take this the wrong way," Ulrich began to say, as he searched for the right words. "But, you seem to have an interest in this."

"That is why I ask," Elizabeth replied. "Is that not why we have interests, if not to inquire on them?"

"No, no," Ulrich explained. "I mean to say, if someone like me were to hear what it is you were saying, they would get ideas."

"I merely wish to see what options lay before me," Elizabeth replied. "The world may gather what ideas they wish. All that matters are actions in the end. Anything else and, I think it would be safe to call it gossip, or speculation. And there is no need to fear that, is there, my ally Count Ulrich?"

Ulrich nodded slowly turning his eyes to the scene before him. He nodded to those that passed, throwing a few fellow mourners looks of condolence, accentuated by a certain shimmer in his eyes. "My Queen, I do not know what the future of the Kingdom may hold, but I am sure that it has ideas with you. Whatever they may be, I hope you know that I will gladly aide in whatever way I can. Whether it be from my informants, my wealth, or my allies. I only pray that if that day should come, you do not forget who was happily by your side."

"Thank you, Ulrich, I will not soon forget it," Elizabeth replied pulling the faintest hint of a smile from her hiding. Though, before it could blossom and grow, before it could spread, it was stunted like a flower that tried to touch the sun in a late winter storm.

"What are you two whispering about?" Istvan asked approaching with rolling shoulders.

"Probably the same thing you have been talking about over there," Elizabeth replied with a point of her noise and a calm face, to the nobles he had departed from.

"A fitting ceremony," Istvan said, as he shifted his eyes across the room in an attempt to disguise those whom he had been with. From one to the next he watched with a long stare, deciding who would be his next company before he returned his attention to those before him. "You have done well to arrange it so quickly. I think the King would be pleased. If there is anything that you wish to discuss, anything that you want me to convey to the other nobles, don't be afraid to ask. I am someone they will listen to." With a subtle bow bound by convention and the eyes of the Kingdom upon him, he readied to take his leave, but was stopped in his tracks before he could.

"I do have a question for you," Elizabeth said. "Have you seen Helene, my governess?"

"That woman," Istvan replied with a grunt. "Why would I have seen her? You're the one who sends her out on errand after errand. Have her running all over the Kingdom. Travels more than a merchant who peddles foul goods."

"It sounds like you care," Elizabeth stated. "You do know she is married."

A scoff a tad bit too loud echoed in the holy place, as eyes searched for the source that was Istvan. "The placement of one servant is hardly worth an eye."

"Are you trying to say she has your eye?" Elizabeth asked as she subtlety taunted him.

Istvan opened his mouth to protest, though before a word could emerge from it, he pulled it closed and held his silence, if for only a moment. "I will take my leave, Queen Elizabeth. I have a great deal of other nobles I must meet with."

"I'm sure you do," Elizabeth replied. "As do I."

"Oh, just one last thing, my Queen," Istvan said with a grin. "You can cry if you want. It would be expected of you."

A smile that was nothing but forced grew over Elizabeth's lips, as she held the man before her gaze. "I thank you for your concern. As well as what is expected of me. But, I should only say, that if you want to see some tears, you can let them fall. It wouldn't be the first time, would it? It is the chatter amongst many of the nobles, as well as the commoners. But, I'm sure you already know that, right? It was what you have been talking about with the others?"

Istvan was silent, as the drum of his heart rose and rang in his ears. With a jerked nod that was an offering not of conviction, but of custom and necessity, he turned his back and quickly stormed off into the crowd, his face red out of rage and embarrassment.

"Well, let's get this ceremony started,"Elizabeth said to herself, a faint smile growing over her lips as she savoredthe temporary victory.