Bride to the King (19 page)

Because the Palace ahead of them was overpowering, they rode in silence and the soldiers drew nearer as they entered the streets of the City.

There was only the sound of the horses’ hoofs and the jingling of their bridles and, Zosina thought, the beating of her heart.

She was nervous, apprehensive and afraid of what lay ahead.

But one thing, she thought, had been worth every difficulty, every question and every problem she had to face, the fact that once again the Regent had kissed her.

His lips had taken possession of hers and she had known the incredible ecstasy and wonder of being close to him, of knowing they belonged, of feeling that nothing else was of any consequence except the glory of their love.

She wanted to tell him how much he meant to her, how wonderful she thought he was.

But, because that was impossible, Zosina just turned her head to look at him and as his eyes met hers, she knew that he too remembered their kiss.

They entered the Palace grounds by a back drive where there were only two sentries on guard who came smartly to attention as their party appeared.

Then they were riding between flowering shrubs where the pink and white blossom from the trees was scattered on the ground in front of them.

It was then, as if the last remnant of the drug that had precluded clear thinking was swept from her mind, that Zosina asked in a very low voice that only the Regent could hear,

“What will – happen now that I have – missed the ceremony in Parliament?”

“I imagine it has been postponed,” he replied. “Leave everything to me.”

“That is what I want to do – always – ” But she thought as he did not reply or turn his head that he had not heard her.

They dismounted at a side door of the Palace and, as they entered, Zosina had an irrepressible impulse to slip her hand into the Regent’s.

She felt that if she could hold onto him, nothing else would matter, even the scolding she anticipated from her grandmother and doubtless the Prime Minister because she had disappeared when she was most wanted.

There was one slight consolation in that the King would not be in the least perturbed.

But she knew now how rude it would seem to the Members of Parliament and she thought humbly that she must make abject apologies to everybody concerned and never again do anything so wrong and reprehensible.

They walked down a long corridor until they reached the main hall of the Palace.

An
aide-de-camp
hurried forward to meet them.

“A guard on the roof spotted you in the distance, Sire,” he said to the Regent. “The Prime Minister is waiting in the salon.”

As if she knew, without being told, that she could not escape the repercussions of her behaviour, Zosina walked towards the salon as two flunkeys opened the double doors.

As they entered, she saw the Prime Minister and the Queen Mother at the far end of the room.

Feeling rather like a naughty schoolgirl, Zosina walked towards them.

Then, as the Regent moved beside her, the Prime Minister came to meet them.

Zosina drew in her breath trying frantically to find words in which to express how sorry she was.

But to her surprise as they met in the centre of the salon, the Prime Minister was looking directly at the Regent.

As if he was also surprised, he stopped moving and Zosina did the same.

“It is with deep regret, sire,” the Prime Minister said in a low voice, “that I bring you bad news.”

“
Bad news
?” the Regent questioned.

There was no doubt by the way he spoke, that this was not what he had expected.

“We learned a few hours ago,” the Prime Minister went on, “that His Majesty was involved in a riot that took place last night in the centre of the City.”

The Regent stiffened, but he did not speak.

“A piece of flying glass from a bottle or a glass struck His Majesty in the jugular vein,” the Prime Minister went on. “It happened apparently very late last night and, when His Majesty’s body was discovered this morning, he had bled to death!”

There was a silence in which it seemed neither the Regent nor Zosina could move or even breathe.

Then the Prime Minister added in a loud voice,

“The King is dead!
Long live the King
!”

He went down on one knee and kissed the Regent’s hand.

*

Zosina walked across the room to the window and then gave a little cry of sheer delight.

She was looking out on a panorama of high mountains and both they and the valley beneath them were white with snow. The lake on which the huge house was built reflected the steel blue of the winter sky.

From it arose a transparent mist that she had already learnt was the heat rising from the water into the chill of the atmosphere.

It gave a fairy-like quality that made it seem not real, but part of the magic which she felt in herself.

Her husband came to her side and she turned to him to say,

“It is lovely – even lovelier than you said it would be! Oh, Sándor, is this really true?”

“It is true, my darling,” he answered. “Have you forgotten that we are married and you are my wife?”

“How could I – forget that? I felt as if the months we had to wait would never pass and perhaps you would – forget about me.”

He smiled.

“That, you know is untrue, but I felt the same. I thought that seven months was like seven centuries, but I dared not make it any shorter.”

Zosina gave a little laugh.

“As it was, Papa was shocked that it was not the conventional twelve.”

The King smiled.

“I was very eloquent on the fact that stability was more important than conventional protocol and, as Parliament in both countries agreed with me, your father was, as you know, overruled.”

“You mean – Mama was!” Zosina said mischievously, “but that was because she was delighted to be rid of me.”

“I cannot believe that.”

“It’s true,” Zosina insisted, “and Katalin said I had grown so pretty because I was so in love and so happy, that it was more than Mama could bear to have me about the place.”

“And why were you so happy?” the King asked, in his deep voice.

“You – know the answer to that,” Zosina said, “it was because I was in love, madly,
crazily in love
with the man I was to marry.”

There was so much passion in her voice that the King put his arms around her and held her close.

Then, when she thought he was about to kiss her, he pushed back the hood edged with white fox that covered her hair and unfastened the ermine-lined cloak.

She had worn it when they had driven through the streets filled with cheering crowds to the railway station where the King’s special train was waiting to carry them on the first part of their journey to his house on the lake.

For the last part there had been a sleigh drawn by two magnificent horses which had travelled over the snow at breath-taking speed and which Zosina said was like being in a chariot of the Gods.

Leaning back against silken cushions, covered with fur rugs, she had held tightly onto the King’s hand beneath them and felt that everything that had happened since she had arrived in Dórsia had been a dream.

When she had returned to Lützelstein with the Queen Mother, it had been hard to pretend that she was sad that King Gyórgy was dead.

The manner of his death had been presented to the outside world in a very different fashion from what had actually occurred and only a very few people knew that the King and his friends had gone from the Palace drunk and aggressive deliberately to smash up a beer hall where people were enjoying a quiet evening.

The mugs in which the beer was served had been glass ones and the King and his friends had used them as missiles, not only to throw at the bar and the bottles behind it, but also as weapons against those drinking peacefully and inoffensively.

It had been a beer garden in the more crowded district of the City and among the drinkers there were some tough characters who were determined to oppose such interference with their evening’s pleasure.

The fight got out of hand, a number of men were badly cut about the face and hands and one onlooker described the place as ‘covered in blood’.

The proprietor of the beer hall called for assistance from the City Police.

When they arrived, they turned everybody out of the shattered beer hall and several of the King’s friends were arrested.

None of them enquired what had happened to the King and it was only late the following morning that the proprietor found him lying under the bar with a huge splinter of glass in his neck.

By that time he had been dead for some hours and there was nothing anybody could do to save his life.

The Queen Mother and her granddaughter immediately returned to Lützelstein where Zosina was quite content to wait, knowing that her future was suddenly and miraculously golden.

Her sisters, Helsa and Theone had asked apprehensively, “Now that the King is dead what happens?”

It was, of course, Katalin who knew the answer.

“There will be another King of Dórsia and Zosina will marry him.”

She did not miss the radiance in her sister’s face, which she could not suppress or the fact that she was encircled with an aura of happiness that was inescapable.

“You are
in love
, Zosina!” she said accusingly, as soon as they were alone.

“Yes, Katalin, I am in – love!”

“With the man who will be the new King?” Katalin questioned. “Then everything I prophesied will come true. You love him and he loves you and you will live happily ever after.”

“It cannot be quite as – easy as – that,” Zosina said, as if she could hardly believe herself that the nightmare was over.

At the same time she was sure that Katalin was right. She would live happily ever afterwards. It was only a question of waiting.

The newspapers proclaimed the King’s death and, watching the German Ambassador in Lützelstein, Zosina was certain that at first he thought it would be a good opportunity to press Teutonic claims on Dórsia.

Then the speeches from the new King proclaiming their independence and dedicating himself to the service of Dórsia were so impressive and meant so much in Lützelstein, that the Ambassador looked glum.

“Everything will be all right now, Papa,” Zosina said delightedly to her father.

“What are you talking about?” he enquired.

“Sándor will stand up to Germany in a way that Gyórgy would never have been able to do. We shall be safe, both Lützelstein and Dórsia. Germany will never coerce or force us into the Empire.”

“What do you know about such things?” the Archduke asked automatically, as if he felt he must assert his authority over his daughter. Then he added unexpectedly,

“Perhaps you are right. I always thought that Gyórgy was too young to be King and from all your grandmother tells me Sándor is an excellent chap in every way.”

“He
is
, Papa!” Zosina enthused.

Then because she felt she must share her happiness with her father, she put her hands into his and said,

“I am so lucky, Papa. He is everything a King should be. I love him and I shall try in every possible way to help him.”

For a moment the Archduke seemed too surprised to answer. Then he said,

“You are a good girl, Zosina. It’s a pity you were not a boy, at the same time, I have a feeling I shall be very proud of you in the future.”

“I want you to be, Papa.”

She bent and kissed her father on the cheek, then hearing her mother’s voice outside the door, she moved quickly away from him to the other side of the room.

*

From the moment Zosina stepped out of the train at Dórsia to find the King waiting for her, she had known that she had come into a special Kingdom of her own, which was like reaching Heaven.

Once again, because her father and mother were unable to travel to Dórsia, the Queen Mother accompanied her and also in the train were Helsa, Theone and Katalin, the latter in a wild state of excitement from the moment they left Lützelstein.

There was to be one night spent at the Palace before the wedding and the King had arranged a State dinner party.

But this time there were no speeches except the one he made and it seemed to Zosina as if everything glittered and glistened with happiness as they walked into the candlelit Banqueting Hall.

The flowers were just as lovely, the candelabra shone on the table and there was a very gay band playing Viennese waltzes in the musicians’ gallery.

But there was too, she thought, a happiness she had never seen before on everybody’s face, including the older Councillors who she learned had all been persuaded to stay on.

It was as if they knew that everything would be all right for their country because they had the right King to rule them and he would also have the right Queen at his side.

“Promise me one thing,” Katalin said, as they went up to bed.

“What is that?” Zosina asked.

“That when you are married, you will find Kings just as handsome and just as charming as Sándor for Helsa, Theone and of course, for me!”

Zosina laughed.

“That may be impossible, but I will try, although you will have to wait a little while.”

“Only four years,” Katalin said. “Grandmama was married at sixteen.”

“Four years is a long time,” Zosina replied, “and Helsa must be married first.”

“We will go through the
Almanach de Gotha
as soon as you come back from your honeymoon.”

“I may have something more important to do,” Zosina teased.

“The family comes first,” Katalin objected. “That is, until you have one of your own.”

Zosina felt that if Sándor had been there she would have blushed.

But when she was alone she thanked God with all her heart that she was to marry the man she loved and that she was not afraid, miserable or apprehensive as she had been when she had last slept in the Palace.

The wedding in the big Cathedral had been as beautiful and inspiring as any bride could have wished and what made it different from any other Royal marriage was that few Queens had ever braved being married in December.