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Updated: June 22, 2025
There was little reminder of the girl of the mountains in the stony-eyed woman he had left sagged low by the fire. Once out in the open air, the King of Karnia drew a long breath. The affair was over. It had been unpleasant. It was always unpleasant to break with a woman. But it was time. He neither loved her nor needed her.
To place the little King Otto IX on the throne and keep him there in the face of opposition would require support from outside. Karnia would furnish this support. For a price. The price was the Princess Hedwig. Outside, Nikky Larisch rose, stretched, and fell to pacing the floor. It was one o'clock, and the palace slept.
In the alliance with Karnia he had given the Terrorists a scourge to flay the people to revolt. Now he waited for the King's death. Waited numbly. For, with the tolling of St. Stefan's bell would rise the cry for the new King. And there was no King. In the little room where the Sisters kept their medicines, so useless now, Hedwig knelt at the Prie-dieu and prayed.
Now commenced a curious scene, curious because one of the actors was Karl of Karnia himself. He seemed curiously loath to bring in assistance, did Karl. Or perhaps the novelty of the affair appealed to him. And Nikky's resistance to search, with that revolver so close, was short-lived. Even while he was struggling, Nikky was thinking. Let them get the letter, if they must.
Yet the bargain came very close to being made the other way that day, and by Karl himself. Preparations were being made for his visit to Livonia. Ostensibly this visit was made because of the King's illness. Much political capital was being made of Karl's going to see, for the last time, the long-time enemy of his house. While rumor was busy, Karnia was more than satisfied.
He should have done better. These things, taken early enough, could have been arranged. And something of this she did not hesitate to say. "Karnia is quiet enough," she finished, a final thrust. "Karnia is better off. A lowland, most of it, and fertile." But a spot of color showed in his old cheeks. "I am glad you spoke of Karnia. Whatever plans we make, Karnia must be considered." "Why?
A dual monarchy, one portion of it restless and revolutionary, was less desirable than the present peace and prosperity of Karnia. And unrest was contagious. He might find himself in a difficult position. He was, indeed, even now in a difficult position. He glanced about his rooms. In one of them Prince Hubert had met his death.
The chauffeur muttered something in the peasant patois of Karnia. "Come, come!" Nikky observed. "Speak up. No hiding behind strange tongues. But first, I have the letter. That saves your worrying about it. You can clear your mind for action." Suddenly Nikky dropped his mocking tone. To be quite frank, now that the man was not dead, and Nikky had the letter, he rather fancied himself.
One cause of discontent was the expense of the army, and of the fortifications along the Karnian border. If Karnia were allied with them, there would be no need of so great an army. They had the mineral wealth, and Karnia the seaports. The old dream of the Empire, of a railway to the sea, would be realized. He pleaded well. The idea was not new.
By late afternoon all was arranged, papers signed and witnessed, and the two signatures affixed, the one small and cramped a soldier's hand; the other bold and flowing the scrawl of a king. And Hedwig, save for the ceremony, was the bride of Karl of Karnia. It was then that the Chancellor rose and stretched his legs.
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