"It comes with a heavy heart to announce the death of my father. But I promise you, my people, that in his death, I, Nasr Safrid II, promise to become the protector of the people and realm that is worthy of his trust." Nasr stood in front of the Safrid tomb, the heavy doors closing behind him, sealing his father away.
The guard beside him came forward. "ALL HAIL NASR SAFRID II, PROTECTOR OF THE PEOPLE AND REALM." The crowd returned the cry. They did not care who ruled them as long as it was someone who looked after them. They would happily accept someone who wasn't the eldest if the previous Sultan had allowed it.
Nasr bent his head. His second oldest sister came along and lightly kissed the gem on the crown before placing it on his head. His eyes went cold not seeing his eldest, but he knew that she wouldn't side with being Harun's twin. With the crown on his head, the guards created a tight cacoon around him leading him down the stairs. He wasn't stupid enough not to have a strict guard, but he knew his brother wouldn't kill him at the ancestral tomb, giving him the confidence to come.
"Your Grace, what would you have us do with the Kingdom? Word has reached us that your sister has birthed a son." Within the council room, a short man wearing a mask, Adrian, spoke. His eyes were cunning, holding a series of plots behind them.
Nasr leant on his arm. "Leave her. The Alliance with the Kingdom was with my father, not mine. She took her opportunity to marry when father fell ill, it's a surprise it took this long for her to have a child." He waved off Adrian who retook his seat turning to his right Nasr looked at a man in heavy armour.
"My brother. He will make a move. How much of the Sultanate supports his claim to the throne." His voice was full of displeasure, but he knew it was something that couldn't be ignored or all his hard work would go to waste.
"His mother's family have already distanced themselves from you. Since last month when you were crowned heir, he fled towards that direction. Their representatives in the capital leaving with him. Although his mother is dead, his grandfather still holds great sway over the northern lords." The man in heavy armour, Mansa, spoke.
"Muscleheaded bastard." Under his breath the insult flew out, full of venom. "Send summons to the lords. With my father's death, they have to swear an oath of fealty to me. I know summons usually go out after a week of mourning but we don't have time to spare. Any refusals will be seen as traitors and will have their assets seized."
"Of course my lord." He bowed yet didn't stop, cutting off Nasr before he could speak again. "But it may be a risk. The vassals don't care who sits on the throne as long as they don't suffer. For you to threaten them like this when your position is shaky could have more dire consequences in the future. Not every Sultan got oath of fealty from all vassals."
Nasr's fist slammed on the table, his eyes cold. "I am their rightful Sultan chosen by my father himself. For them to even have any other thoughts is treason alone. They will come and bend the knee and if they don't I will cut their Achilles and force them to." Mansa locked eyes with Nasr but tactfully looked down muttering 'of course' under his breath.
"Aswad. How are the dancers." The one, who stuck out like a tumb within the council looked up at Nasr. He wore a hood and black mask showing no identifiable features. Being the head of the Dancers of the Sultanate he had to forgo his entire existence, donning the name of all previous heads.
"They are spread across the Kingdom, however, the north has slowly removed them. I'm assuming your brother's grandfathers know who they are. But it's a minor setback. Within half a year they will be back in place." His voice was emotionless. The rest of the council made sure to keep a person's length away from him, seeing a dark aura surround him.
"That old cunt has lived too long. Make him your priority." Taking a sip of water he looked at the final person in the council. "Yusuf. Cut any and all business towards the north. Grain, gold, and even a fruit stand are forbidden from heading that way. Starve them out."
"Your Grace that may be... hard," Yusuf, in a condescending tone spoke. "We cut funding, the Grand Prince of Vladmire will surely notice and prepare to attack. Without the supplies to last against the initial siege, the north would collapse." He shrugged his shoulders acting as if there was nothing to do taking his seat again.
"Are they so useless that they can't produce enough food themselves?" Nasr complained but he knew Yusuf's point. The North was always suffering raids. Although they could produce enough grain to feed themselves under normal circumstances, a quarter of it was usually lost during raids and had to be provided by the crown in return for greater obligations.
"Your Grace if that's the problem then all we have to do is give a reason for the Grand Prince to stay his hand," Adrian spoke up getting the attention of everybody. "We all know that Prince Harun will try to rebel to claim the throne. With the Barbarians and the Grand Prince in a marriage alliance, it is safe to assume they will seize the opportunity to attack us when this happens. Adding the Blood-Child south and we have no chance of surviving."
Adrian stood up walking to the opposite end of the table. "That's why we have to look outwards. We have a couple of options. The first and least likely is getting a marriage alliance with the Commonwealth. But as we all know that is unlikely due to their lack of children. The second would be to make an alliance with the Blood Child and marry your daughter to his son, but once again I doubt it will happen."
"So I propose we return to our roots, what made people truly fear the name Safrid originally." Turning towards Aswad, Adrian smiled. "How hard would it be for you to capture the Grand Prince's grandson?"