Bride to the King Read online

“He was the King of France, Sire, in 1515.”

  “I have never heard of him, but he obviously had the right ideas.”

  “Are you interested in history?”

  “No, I am not!” the King replied. “I found it extremely dull and boring, but then I was never told anything interesting about the Kings and certainly not the sort of anecdote you have just mentioned.”

  “One is not taught personal details about Royalty,” Zosina replied. “One has to find it out in books.”

  “I have no time to read,” the King said firmly.

  They lapsed into silence and Zosina thought he was certainly very difficult. Perhaps the only person who could have coped with him would have been Katalin.

  She would chatter on regardless of whether anybody answered her or not and always seemed able to find a new subject.

  With almost a sigh of relief, she saw the Queen Mother turn from the Prime Minister to speak to the King.

  Almost as if she was unable to prevent herself, Zosina turned back to the Regent.

  “Do tell me about the gentleman with the huge moustache,” she pleaded.

  She saw the Regent’s eyes were twinkling as he began the life story of the gentleman who she learned was one of the most redoubtable Generals in the Dórsian Army.

  Afterwards, when the ladies withdrew to one of the exquisite salons, Zosina found herself sitting next to one of the King’s aunts, who she soon found was an irrepressible gossip.

  The Princess chatted away about other members of the family, relating some of the most intimate details of their lives which Zosina was sure that the Regent would not have told her. “The woman with the dyed red hair is my cousin Lillie,” she said. “She was very pretty ten years ago, but now she is married to a terrible bore. What is more, he is deaf and everything has to be repeated three times. It also makes him shout, until in his presence I feel I am permanently standing in a barrack square!”

  Zosina laughed, then the Princess said in a low voice,

  “And what, dear child, do you think of my nephew Gyórgy?”

  It was a question which Zosina was not expecting and for a moment she found it difficult to find words in which to reply.

  Then, because she knew that the Princess was waiting, she said,

  “I did not – expect His Majesty to be so – dark-haired.”

  The Princess raised her eyebrows.

  “Has no one told you that his mother was Albanian?”

  “No,” Zosina answered.

  “Oh dear, I see you have a lot to learn,” the Princess said. “My brother, the late King, who was the eldest of eight children, had unfortunately four daughters by his first marriage.”

  “Like Papa!” Zosina remarked. “Exactly!” the Princess replied. “And very disagreeable it made him.”

  Zosina was about to say again, ‘just like Papa’, but thought it would be indiscreet. “When the Queen died,” the Princess went on, “as you can imagine, it annoyed the Prime Minister and the Councillors when my brother announced that he intended to marry an Albanian Princess who none of us had ever heard of.”

  “It must have been a surprise!” Zosina murmured.

  “It certainly was, especially as we had always thought the Albanians to be a strange people, many of them being nothing but gypsies!”

  There was so much disparagement in the Princess’s voice that Zosina looked at her in surprise. “However, my brother the King achieved what he had thought was an impossibility, when his second Queen produced a son and heir.”

  “He must have been very pleased,” Zosina said. As she spoke, she thought how thrilled her father would be if only he had a son to inherit the throne. “You can understand,” the Princess continued, “that Gyórgy has naturally been very spoilt all his life. My brother doted on him until the day of his death and his mother, in my opinion, spoilt him abominably.”

  The fact that the King was half Albanian, Zosina thought, accounted for his dark hair and complexion and it might also be the reason for his wildness.

  As if the Princess followed her thoughts, she said,

  “You have to be very understanding, dear, and gain Gyórgy’s confidence. I believe, as does dear Sándor, that if he will settle down and assume his responsibilities he will make a good King.”

  At the mention of the Regent, Zosina said what had surprised her since she first arrived,

  “I expected His Royal Highness to be much – older.”

  The Princess smiled.

  “It does seem strange, as he is Gyórgy’s uncle. But Sándor was the youngest of my father’s large family of eight children and my only other brother, and, of course, until Gyórgy arrived, we always expected he would be the next King of Dórsia.”

  Zosina wanted to ask if he had been very disappointed at finding himself no longer the heir, but then she thought it would be a tactless question.

  “All I can say,” the princess said, “is that you are not only very lovely, my dear, but exactly the sort of person we hoped you would be.”

  “Thank – you,” Zosina replied, suddenly feeling shy. Then, before it was possible to say any more, the gentlemen came into the room.

  *

  The following day there were deputations of people calling on the Queen Mother from first thing in the morning until they had to leave the Palace for the civic luncheon that was being given for her by the Mayor and Corporation of the City.

  Once again they drove behind six white horses in the open carriage and now the crowds on either side of the roads seemed more enthusiastic than they had been on the day of their arrival.

  The Queen Mother had sent a message to Zosina by one of her Ladies-in-Waiting early in the morning to say that she was wearing pale mauve.

  She suggested that Zosina should wear a white gown trimmed with lace and a bonnet wreathed with white roses.

  “I look very bridal,” Zosina remarked, as she joined the Queen Mother in her bedroom before they proceeded downstairs.

  “That is what you will soon be,” her grandmother replied.

  Her words sent a shiver through Zosina, who had almost forgotten in the excitement of all that had been happening that the disagreeable and argumentative King was to be her future husband.

  Thinking over his behaviour last night after she had gone to bed, she told herself he was behaving like a rather rude schoolboy and it was difficult to think of him as a man.

  She had always thought her husband would be somebody who would protect her and on whom she could rely, whose advice she would seek and who would direct her life in the way it should go.

  She could not imagine finding any of these qualities in the King and she thought, if she had to spend a lifetime trying to talk to him, that in itself was a terrifying prospect, especially if he was going to be as disagreeable as he had been last night.

  However, because she wanted to do what was required of her and behave in an exemplary manner, she tried to excuse him on the grounds that they were strangers.

  But she could not escape from the conviction that he disliked the idea of being married and more especially disliked the bride who had been chosen for him.

  In which case, she thought, surely it would be better if he waited until he was older?

  Then she remembered that the whole reason she was here was that Lützelstein and Dórsia must be united if they were to oppose the growing power of Germany.

  ‘I wonder if anyone has explained that to him?’ she questioned, then was certain that the Regent would have done so.

  ‘Prince Sándor is clever,’ she thought, ‘clever and well read. At least he will be there for me to talk to.’

  Then she wondered what happened when a Regent relinquished his post.

  Did he retire into obscurity or was another position found for him in the Government?

  It was a question to which she did not know the answer and she had a feeling it would be difficult to know who to ask.

  The King was looking sulky and bored all the way to the
Guildhall where they were to be entertained.

  He made no effort to speak either to the Queen Mother or to anyone else and Zosina, waving to the crowds who were obviously excited by her appearance, told herself that the only thing to do was to ignore him.

  ‘He puts a damper on everything!’ she thought. ‘I cannot think, as this is his own country, why he does not enjoy seeing his people so pleased and excited.’

  To her relief, when she reached the Guildhall, she found that she was not sitting beside the King, but had the Prime Minister on her left and the Chancellor of the Exchequer on her right.

  She found the ‘thumbnail sketches’ which the Regent had given her the night before, very helpful, although they seemed surprised that she should know how many children they had and, in the Prime Minister’s case, that his wife was French.

  They were soon talking animatedly and answering Zosina’s questions about Dórsia in a manner that told her they were extremely gratified by her interest.

  “Thank you very, very much!” she enthused, as she said goodbye to the Prime Minister. “It has been the most thrilling luncheon I have ever attended and I shall never forget it.”

  “You have made it a memorable occasion for me, Your Royal Highness,” the Prime Minister replied, “and I can only assure you that you will find Dórsian hospitality is as boundless as our affection.”

  He spoke with an obvious pride in his voice and, as Zosina smiled at him, he told himself that she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen in his life.

  When he said goodbye to the Regent, he added,

  “I can only thank you as well as congratulate you, Sire, on your choice. You were far wiser than I was. I am therefore prepared in the circumstances never again to doubt your judgement, especially when it concerns women!”

  The Regent’s eyes twinkled.

  “Shall I say I am thankful not to have made a fundamental mistake in this particular instance?”

  “That I can now say categorically is an impossibility,” the Prime Minister replied.

  The Regent was still smiling as he hurried down the steps to take his place in the Royal carriage.

  When they arrived back at the Palace, the Queen Mother announced that she was going to her private apartments.

  “I hope, Gyórgy, you will join me,” she said to the King. “We have had no chance to talk intimately with each other since I arrived, so this is a welcome opportunity.”

  Zosina thought the King looked as if it was not a very welcome one to him, but it was obvious that there was nothing he could do but agree.

  Having taken off her bonnet, Zosina went to the Queen Mother’s sitting room to find her grandmother waiting for her and seated beside her, looking very sulky, was the King.

  Zosina curtseyed and when she had done so, the Queen Mother said,

  “I am going to do something very unconventional, but I feel, as no one will know about it except ourselves, we can forget protocol for a moment. I want you two young people to get to know each other and so I am going to leave you alone without being watched by curious eyes and listened to by inquisitive ears.”

  She gave the King and Zosina her famous smile before, with a quickness of movement which belied her years, she went from the sitting room, closing the door behind her.

  Zosina, realising that the King had said nothing, looked at him nervously.

  He rose and walked across the room to stand at the window looking out and there was an awkward silence until she said,

  “Grandmama – always tries to make things as – easy as possible.”

  “Easy!” the King replied, his voice rising on the word. “I see nothing easy about your being here or this damned marriage!”

  Zosina started when he swore, because, although she knew it was a swear word, she had in fact, never heard a man use it in her presence.

  “Do you – hate the idea so – much?” she faltered after a moment.

  “Hate it? Of course I hate it!” the King snapped. “I have no wish to be married. All I want is to be free, free of being ordered about, free of being told what to do from morning until night.”

  “I can understand your – feeling like that,” Zosina said, “but you know why our marriage has been – arranged?”

  “I know why they say it has been arranged,” the King answered, “but the real truth is that Uncle Sándor wants someone to take his place, someone who will manipulate me, as he has always done.”

  “I am sure that’s not true,” Zosina cried, “and if it were, they would not have chosen me!”

  “That is why they have chosen you,” the King said. “It is well known that your mother bosses your father and that Lützelstein has a petticoat Government.”

  “That is a lie!” Zosina protested. “Whoever told you that has deceived Your Majesty with a lot of rubbish!”

  The King laughed and it was not a pleasant sound.

  “It is a fact whether you know it or not,” he said, “and if you think you are going to rule my country I promise that you will be disappointed!”

  “I have no wish to rule anything or anybody!” Zosina said.

  She saw the King did not believe her and after a moment she said more quickly,

  “I did not wish to – get married either – I was merely told – that I had to do so.”

  “Do you expect me to believe that?” the King asked. “Every woman wants a crown on her head.”

  “Then I am the exception. I want to – love the man I marry.”

  The King laughed jeeringly.

  “Love is a cheap commodity – ” he said. “There is plenty of it about, but one cannot marry it. Oh, no! That is arranged by one’s Councillors or in my case by my uncle.”

  He spoke in a manner which told Zosina that he hated the Regent.

  She had been standing while they were talking, but now she sat down in a chair as if her legs would not carry her. “What – can we – do ?” she asked helplessly.

  “Do?” the King questioned. “What we are told to do, of course! Uncle Sándor has it all neatly tied up, while the Prime Minister and all those idiotic creatures who kow-tow to him behave as if I was a performing animal in a circus. ‘Jump through a hoop, Your Majesty! Turn a somersault, Your Majesty! Fly on the trapeze, Your Majesty!’ You don’t suppose I have any chance of refusing them?”

  Zosina clasped her fingers together.

  “I know it seems – unfair – and perhaps cruel,” she said in a small voice, “but the menace of the – German Empire is real – very real!”

  “That is what they tell you,” the King answered. “Personally I don’t care a damn if the Germans do incorporate us in their Empire. We would very likely be better off than we are now.”

  “No! No!” Zosina cried. “How can you say such a thing? We have to keep our independence. How could we be ruled by the Prussian Emperor?”

  “He would leave me on my throne.”

  “For as long as you did as you were told,” Zosina said. “If you think you are badly off now, it is nothing to the position you would find yourself in under the Germans.”

  “Now you are talking like Uncle Sándor,” he sneered. “I think it’s all a lot of ‘bogey-bogey’ thought up by politicians who have nothing better to do!”

  “Oh, it is real – it is true,” Zosina insisted. “I read the newspapers and I have also heard what my father says about the menace of the German might. We cannot let Lützelstein and Dórsia come under Prussian rule!”

  “All I want,” the King replied, “is to enjoy myself and to have a good time. If I tried to interfere in politics, they would soon stop me, so what is the point of my wasting my time on trying to understand them?”

  Zosina gave a little sigh.

  The King, she thought, was more than ever like a truculent schoolboy and she had the feeling he was so angry that whatever she said he would never understand the seriousness of the situation or that she was not trying to manipulate him in some manner.

  She rose
to walk across the room and stand not beside him but at the next window looking out as he was.

  The sunshine made the snow on the peaks of the mountains a dazzling white against the blue of the sky and she thought she could see the cascades of water running down the sides of the hills.

  In the distance like a silver streak, the river which passed through the City flowed towards the distant horizon.

  “Dórsia is so lovely!” she said, “and it is yours. It belongs to you!”

  The King laughed loudly.

  “That is what you think, but the person who rules it is Uncle Sándor and everyone from the Prime Minister to the lowest crossing-sweeper knows it.”

  His voice had a jeering note in it as he went on,

  “Have you not been told by now that I am an unfortunate ‘afterthought’? The son of an Albanian gypsy who ought never to have got into Dórsia in the first place?”

  “You are the King,” Zosina replied, “and surely it is up to you to gain the love and respect of your people? When you have done that – and kept your country free – you may justifiably feel very proud of yourself.”

  The King laughed again and this time there was a note of genuine amusement in his voice.

  “Now you are really starting in the way you mean to go on,” he said. “‘You must be a good King! Be kind to your people! They must learn to love you! You must do the right thing!’”

  He threw up his hands in a gesture that was somehow derisive.

  “Uncle Sándor has done it again!” he jeered. “He has picked the right ‘petticoat’ to rule Dórsia – and who could have learnt how to do it better than a Princess who comes from Lützelstein?”

  Zosina felt her temper rising.

  “I think you are being needlessly insulting!” she asserted. “If I could do what I wish to do, I would go back to Lützelstein, stay with my father and tell him I will not marry you, when everything I say or do is suspect.”

  “So you have got a temper!” the King said. “Well, that’s better than all that mealy-mouthed preaching anyway.”

  Zosina suddenly realised that she was being almost as rude and angry as he was.

  “I am – sorry,” she said with genuine humility. “I do not wish to preach – and I promise you I don’t wish to coerce you into doing anything you don’t want to do.”