Queen at the Crossroads

November 1319

Elzbieta and her sister Jadzia were in their chamber with Magda and some other girls of the court.  A new chest of clothes for the court girls had recently arrived, along with some jewelry.  The girls were having a fun time trying on the different dresses.  

Elzbieta looked into the mirror wearing a firm trimmed red velvet dress.  "It fits me perfectly."  she said.  "Now all that is missing is a crown, and then I'll look like a true queen."

"Like Mama?" Jadzia said.  

"Yes, like Mama... when she becomes queen."  said Elzbieta.  

Despite the Hungarian king's treacherous marriage, or so as Wladyslaw saw it, his influence had not weakened.  In August 1319, the Pope had finally allowed for Wladyslaw to be crowned king of Poland.  The coronation was scheduled for January.  His whole family felt much excitement to be elevated to royal status.  A set of fine, new dresses were ordered for Elzbieta and her sisters for the coronation day.  

Elzbieta pulled a lace out of one of the caskets, and handed it too Magda.  Magda fastened it around Elzbieta's throat and handed her a mirror.  She looked into the mirror and smiled.  Elzbieta was looking more and more like a woman lately.  She had considerably grown.  However, her face was not as flawless as she would had liked.  Now and then, tiny red spots would show up on her face, which she always covered up with powder.  

The chamber door opened unannounced.  Elzbieta's mother stood in the doorway.  

"I would like to speak with my daughter, the Lady Elzbieta."  she said.  Elzbieta rose from her stool, and faced her mother.  "In private."  Jadwiga added.  Everyone else left the room.  

Jadwiga put her arm around Elzbieta, led her to a settle by the window and sat down with her.  "We have just received important news from Hungary."  she said.  She then moved her hand and set it on Elzbieta's knee.  "The new Queen of Hungary has died in childbirth earlier this month, and the child with her.  When the mourning period is over, we will send a proposal to the King of Hungary, and offer your hand in marriage."  

Elzbieta shivered.  She remembered hearing that the young Hungarian Queen was the same age as her- only fourteen.  And now since she was dead, Elzbieta's parents were offering their daughter as a replacement, wanting to send her to another country and risk childbirth for this king who was the first of his dynasty, desperate for an heir.  

Elzbieta said nothing, and looked away.  Jadwiga grabbed her hand.  "I know it's tragic." she said.  But this opens up a whole new opportunity for you- and for your father and I."  

"I'm scared."  Elzbieta said.  "His first wife gave him no children, and then his second wife dies giving birth to his first one.  If I become pregnant by him, the same thing could happen to me."  

Jadwiga squeezed Elzbieta's hand, and grabbed her other one, looking her straight in the eyes. 

"Dear, I have birthed six children and survived.  Your sister has birthed four so far and survived.  You have always been a strong and sturdy girl.  I can't think of a single woman in our family who had not survived childbirth."

Her words were of some comfort to Elzbieta, but she still felt scared.  She knew that one day she would marry, and quite possibly far from home.  She knew that she very likely would have to face childbirth.  But she never imagined marrying a man who had such bad luck with wives and offspring.  Elzbieta knew very well about the king of Hungary's marital history.  The girl who was to be his first wife died soon before their scheduled marriage.  His first actual wife was married to him for some years, but not once did she get pregnant.  Then his second wife died giving birth to a dead child just a year after their marriage.  

Jadwiga pulled Elzbieta closer to her.  "If this marriage goes ahead, you will already be fifteen by then.  You are growing each day, and I'll make sure that you don't go to your wedding bed underdeveloped like that poor previous queen."  She then pulled Elzbieta into a tight embrace.  Elzbieta, however, looked over her mother's shoulder thinking of that poor Queen Beatrice of Hungary, forced to fall pregnant before her time.  That night Elzbieta could not get any sleep.  The image of a young girl screaming in pain as she gave birth filled her mind.