Chapter 53 Her Rival
Here's an OC for the province of Posen, courtesy of a question of JLBB.
The New Year, 1874, came and went. Adeladja prayed out loud for Prussia in the morning and evenings. He seemed pleased with her prayers, but as she emerged from the fog of fear and gratitude, she silently added her own words. She prayed that the West Prussians would discount her spoken words and pay attention to her wishes for their fortitude. It pleased her that West Prussia was not the only province that resisted Prussia's laws; he was annoyed at the reports coming from the Rhineland, Alsace-Lorraine, and even Hanover. One of Monika's mortals, a politican named Ludwig Windhorst, was rumored to be the next Zentrum Party leader to replace the current, ailing one. Adeladja admired how the German personification proudly ignored Prussia's jibes in public gatherings; indeed, she envied her.
But it wasn't until February 1874 and a note from the Rhineland, when Adeladja was reminded of another entity who struggled under the anti-Catholic laws. She was surprised when Hedwig handed her the note and she saw Charlotte's name. She tore it open and read:
Dear Fraulein Łukasiewicz,
As you may have heard or read in the papers, the Primate of Poland and Archbishop of Posen has been imprisoned for refusing to obey the Prussian government's demand that he resign. It may interest you that I have heard that Prussia has ordered that the personification of the Province of Posen be brought to Berlin. He has been arrested and is being held for interrogation. He is at the Plötzensee Prison. Although I still consider you German, I know your sympathy for the Polish people and entities. I am sure that Posen would be grateful for a visit from one of his supporters.
Sincerely, your sister,
Charlotte , Province of the Rhineland
Little jab aside, Adeladja was stunned and grateful for the news. She had not had much contact with Boreslaw Konstantyn Łukasiewicz over the past few decades. Their interests had diverged over the past couple of centuries. She had both admired and worried about the uprisings he had led in the 1830s and 1840s that had demoted him from a duchy to a province. But now an opportunity presented itself for her to see him again and offer him consolation and support. Maybe, she hoped, he would even have news about Feliks. She would go to Plötzensee, she decided.
It took her a few days to plan the trip. She had agreed with Prussia to go nowhere without a maid and a guard. She chose Hedwig because the mortal seemed more taciturn and loyal to her than silly young Berta. The guard was harder; she finally decided on a young mortal man who had recently joined Prussia's household. He seemed a little unsure of his duties and she thought she could swear him to secrecy, while pretending the trip was nothing but an errand of mercy. Finally, she arranged for a hansom cab, promising Hedwig payment in jewelry if she agreed to spot the Deutschmarks for the fare. The trio headed out to the city limits near the Tegel forest, where the prison was located.
As they passed through the red brick buildings, Adeladja shuddered. It was cold, but that didn't bother her as much as the still, forbidding atmosphere. She had presented herself as a sister to Boreslaw, and she was relieved when his guard permitted her to enter the cell. As she adjusted to the thin lines of winter sunlight in the small room, she noticed the hulking male figure sitting chained at his wrists and ankles on a chair near a plain table.
Boreslaw had not changed much since she had last seen him in 1848, when she had tried to urge him to use legal reforms instead of violence against the Prussian government. He was still tall, muscular, and with his close-cropped hair and fierce mustache, she thought he resembled a younger, handsomer version of the great Polish king, Jan III Sobieski. His strong face was marred by a chemical burn on his cheek, part of the punishment he had received from Prussia for the Polish Uprising in 1848. When she entered, he looked up, and his fierce gray-green eyes bore into her.
"So, Pani Łukasiewicz, you have come to tell me 'I told you so'?" He raised one bristly eyebrow. "I should have obeyed the laws, urged the Archbishop to surrender his God-given authority to the temporal one?" He smiled. "Isn't it too late for that?"
"Nie, Boreslaw, I have not come to chastise you. Rather to sympathize and offer support." Adeladja looked about, wondering if there were another chair. As if on cue, Boreslaw stood up. With a little bow and gesture of one chained hand, he offered it to her. She curtseyed, sat down, and he shuffled over to the rough wooden cot.
"You pity me, do you? You think I am stubborn and foolish, tak?" Before she could protest, he shook his head. "I am proud of the archbishop and my mortals, proud that they risk their fortunes and freedom to protest those laws." He lifted his chin and looked defiantly at her.
"And you should be proud of them," Adeladja replied. "They see the injustice of the laws and their true intent and they refuse to be cowed by them." She smiled. "It is good to see you, Boreslaw."
"Really, Adeladja? I see your people are not kicking up a fuss. Why is that?"
"Because most Danzigers are Protestant. But the West Prussians in the small towns and countryside are standing up against the laws," she added that so he wouldn't think she had completely submitted to Prussia's rule.
"Tak, they are. There are still some good Poles left in West Prussia."
Adeladja was stung by Posen's words and the sly glance he cast at her. "Boreslaw, what do you mean by that?"
He shrugged. "I mean, look at you. Dressed in your fine, rich clothes, spending time in Berlin instead of West Prussia or your own city. Tell me, Adeladja," he leaned forward, resting his powerful forearms on his thick thighs, "Why aren't you there, close to your people, where your thoughts and energy may reach them more easily? Jasne, stay in Danzig, but even from there, you can do more good for your mortals in these harsh times."1
"Because I wanted to spare Feliks's existence. Travelling from Prussia to Russia to Austria was killing him, so Krakow and I volunteered to stand in his stead." Adeladja didn't like the amused expression that spread on Posen's face. "No one else came up with the idea."
Boreslaw snorted a hard little laugh. "So that's the official story, eh? Feliks is too proud to ask for help, but he allows his sisters to browbeat him into accepting it? How amusing. Didn't it ever occur to you that he wanted all of us to stay with our mortals, to keep their hopes and identities alive by being amongst them?" His eyes twinkled. "Or was this an excuse to run away to Berlin, to join your Prussian lover?"
Adeladja gasped. "Prussia is not my lover, Boreslaw! I am here as a glorified hostage, to save Feliks from destruction! How can you say such a hurtful thing when I have come to offer support and comfort to you?"
Boreslaw's face hardened, casting a chill in the already cold room. "You offer no comfort coming here, Danzig." He pronounced her German name crisply and perfectly. "You are filled with Germans, infested with them. You always said to play nice, to work for Poland within the laws. How can we do so when they are against us? The diabeł pruski makes the laws and laughs at us.2 He only understands shows of force."
"Of course, he understands them." Adeladja was shaking. "And you fall into his trap, by stirring up your mortals so he can put them down with soldiers and martial law!"
Boreslaw laughed mirthlessly. "So you have not changed at all, Danzig. Still advocating 'peaceful, legal' measures. Is that why you are here? One last plea to get me to back down, before your keeper arrives to knock me about?"
Adeladja bristled at his word. "I don't deserve these insults from you. I come here as your friend, as a siostra—"3
"You are not my sister," Posen sneered. "You sleep with my enemy, Feliks's enemy. You wallow in his bed, wear a French whore's clothes—" Adeladja tried to interrupt, but he stood up, his voice growing louder. "Tak, you have betrayed us all for your comfort, and you would beg us to do the same." He glared at her, his contempt out in the open.
Adeladja rose up, trembling. "For the last time, I have betrayed no one! I came here to save Feliks's existence! Where were you when he came through Prussia, looking so weak and pale? You didn't volunteer to save him!"
Boreslaw narrowed his eyes at her. "I knew my place. I knew my duties," he growled. "I didn't sell myself to the diabeł pruski ."
Adeladja felt her face and chest grow hot in anger. Combined with the cell's cold air, she felt sick. "Stop saying those things!" She demanded. "They are not true!" When Boreslaw smirked at her, she stamped her foot. He laughed, and Adeladja caught herself. She glared back at him, gathering her thoughts and weapons.
"Of course you're angry at me, Boreslaw." She forced herself to speak calmly and coldly. "How humiliating it must be for you to see a female city volunteer to sacrifice herself for Poland, while you sit safely in the countryside, watching your mortals struggle on their farms." She drew herself up, remembering how she had held herself when she was a Royal City of Poland with special privileges.
Boreslaw stepped forward, his chains dragging ominously on the wooden floor. He loomed over her. "Little upstart," he growled. "I was where Feliks buried his first kings, I was one of his first capitals!4 You think you are so special with your merchants? I ruled the fur trade while you were a child!" Adeladja forced herself to stare back into his piercing gray-green eyes. He jabbed his finger at the chemical burn on his face. "I earned this by resisting the pruski bydlę.5And you?" He gestured contemptuously at her fine wool coat and walking dress. "You earn this by falling on your back for him."
Adeladja raised her hand to slap him, but when Boreslaw clenched his fist, she froze. Even chained, she realized how dangerous he could be. He had shown that he disrespected her, so she didn't dare risk attacking him. She tried to steel her body and voice. "For the last time, Boreslaw," she said through gritted teeth. "Stop with your lies. Stop making up stories in your head."
He laughed again, that cold joyless sound. "Lies? You think I entertain myself by making up stories about what you are doing here in Berlin?" He looked knowingly at her. "You don't think personifications talk? You don't think I hear things, even in the countryside?"
Rage flared up in her, but then a chill followed, killing the heat. Adeladja froze as Posen grinned at her. Bóze, someone had told Boreslaw more than that she had volunteered to go to Berlin to save Poland's existence. Her mind turned blank as her legs trembled. She swallowed hard and tried to sound calm. "Do you believe every rumor you hear? That is very foolish of a smart province like you."
"I believe it when it comes from credible sources." Boreslaw's grin broadened.
She panicked, trying to think of which German personification would bother corresponding or speaking to a Polish entity. She couldn't imagine Hanover doing so, nor Saxony doing something so malicious to her; was it the Rhineland? Had Charlotte set up this visit to humiliate her? "Who told you these things?" She demanded.
Boreslaw shrugged. "Who didn't? Personifications see things, they talk. And I hear them, even on my farm."
"Well, personifications don't always speak the truth; they exaggerate, they lie," Adeladja replied. She could feel the heat prickling her face again. "Tak, I am here. I work for Prussia, keeping his account books." It wasn't a complete lie, she told herself.
But Boreslaw laughed again. "You, a mere clerk?" He scanned her outfit disapprovingly. "A clerk doesn't dress like a French courtesan, doesn't have a suite of fine rooms at the Stadtchlosse, or go on holidays to Zopot with her lover ." She opened her mouth to speak, but he again raised his hand to silence her. "Spare your breath, Adeladja. Your lies are childish. We all know."
Adeladja felt a wave of energy rush through her legs, through her rapidly beating heart, and to her head. She felt dizzy and sat back down. Bóze, she thought, it didn't matter whether it was a trick of the Rhineland's or not; others knew and gossiped about her. She thought of her damaged reputation and could have wept for begging Poland to let her go to Berlin in his stead. Then a new thought came to her and it chilled her.
"You say personifications talk, that 'we all know,'" she said slowly. "Do you mean just the provinces under Prussia's rule or 'everyone' everyone?"
Boreslaw studied her. She felt like she was going to faint if he didn't say anything. Finally, he spoke. "Definitely the provinces. And you know we have other friends outside of Prussia. Personifications need something to put in their letters." His face was inscrutable.
Adeladja sat there, her stomach sinking. Everyone knows. She thought of asking Posen if he had written to Poland, but realized she couldn't bear the answer. She got up, legs shaking. She forced herself to keep her face as composed as she could, while she curtseyed to the tall Polish province.
"I am sorry that I have disturbed you with my presence." She called on centuries of public speaking to keep her voice from breaking. "I thought this would be a pleasant visit, but I see it has not been so for the both of us. Good luck with your interrogation, Boreslaw. Do widzenia."6
"Auf Wiedersehen, Fraulein,"Boreslaw said to her back. For a second, she was tempted to fly at him, demanding he apologize and call her Pani Adeladja, Miasto Gdańsk, but the prospect of seeing his contemptuous face cowed her.7 She forced herself to stand tall and glide out. Only when she saw the hansom cab waiting for her, did she exhale and slump. She dragged herself into the cab and she, Hedwig, and Prussia's guard rode back to the Stadtschlosse in awkward silence.
As they entered her rooms, Adeladja asked Hedwig to undress her so she could lie down and rest. She felt light-headed and sick, as if a heavy weight were churning in her stomach. She also told both maids to inform Prussia that she could not dine with nor entertain him. "Tell him that I'm not feeling well and would be poor company," she said. She had them draw the blinds against the gray February twilight and leave her alone.
We all know. She tried to rally up some feelings of betrayal and anger at the Rhineland, but they felt weak and false. It was clear that the other personifications regarded her relationship with Prussia as common knowledge, and discussed it, whether with sympathy, curiosity, or malice. Saxony, Hanover, the Rhineland, even Prussia's sister, the city of Königsberg, all knew and must have discussed it with other provinces, not to mention all the other kingdoms, duchies and states of the German Empire. The rumors would even have spread beyond borders; the United Kingdom was aware of it, and Austria and Russia must have figured it out. Even Holstein and Schleswig, and Alsace and Lorraine would have told Denmark and France. And now she knew Posen, one of the Empire's predominantly Polish provinces, was aware of it. And if Boreslaw knew, she despaired, then what would keep him from informing Poland and Krakow? He was not imprisoned in Prussia's palaces, he did not have to have his letters reviewed, censored, and possibly sent off to oblivion.
It all makes sense now, she thought as tears brimmed in her eyes and her throat tightened. Of course, Feliks and Elena weren't writing to her; they felt betrayed and repelled by her. They knew she had slept with the enemy and no amount of explanation or pleading would appease her siblings. She knew her brother well; Feliks fumed and scolded over minor insults and disagreements, but true injuries and betrayals only brought his silence. And poor Elena, always willing to forgive, must be so appalled and ashamed, she could have nothing comforting to say. Proszę mi wybaczyć, bracie, she wept into her pillow, wybacz mi, siostro.8 She sobbed until her head ached and her tears ran dry. She then lay still, wrapped in a fine quilt and her misery until she heard a knock and voices at her door.
Uh oh, that didn't go well. What did you think of Posen and his attitude towards Adeladja?
1 Polish: Sure
2 Polish: Prussian devil. Favorite insult of all Poles for Prussia
3 Polish: sister
4 The first Polish kings were buried in the cathedral on Ostrów Tumski, an island in the Warta River that runs through the city of Poznań (Posen). It is similar to the Île de la Cité in Paris. Poznań was also briefly Poland's capital in the 13th century.
5 Polish: Prussian brute, beast
6 Polish: Goodbye. This is the formal version.
7 Polish: Lady/ Mistress Adeladja, City of Gdansk/Danzig. I learned something interesting from Wikipedia. Using Pan or Pani with a person's first name indicates a mix of familiarity and respect, whereas using the honorific with the last name can be seen as less respectful, even slightly condescending. This is the exact opposite of how English-speaking people would use honorifics with first or last names. Hmmm, you learn something new everyday.
8 Polish: Please forgive me, brother, forgive me, sister.
