Lucy Gordon - Princess Dottie

Then reality kicked in and she gave a little sigh. “It's no use. Mike never really loved me. He just thought he did because-” she gave a jerky little laugh, “because I kept telling him. Like he said, I'm a steamroller.”

“A sovereign needs to be a bit of a steamroller. But she also needs the gift of winning hearts, which you have. I'll help you all I can, but you must give me your word that you're totally committed. We can accept nothing less.”

“We?”

“Your subjects,” he said quietly.

“But-”

“That's what we are,” he interrupted her. “Every one of us. We've given you our hearts, and all we ask in return is-everything. Your life, your freedom, your independence, your time. We ask you to think of us day and night, to put us first no matter what your own feelings dictate. In other words, we ask your love.”

“Everything,” she whispered.

“Yes, it's a lot to ask. This is your last chance to escape. After today there's no going back.”

Dottie gave a wry smile. “There never really was, was there?”

“No. There never really was.”

She put her hand in his.

“I think we should go now,” she said. “They're waiting for us.”

Two cars left the palace for the parliament building. In the second was Aunt Liz and another lady-in-waiting. The leading vehicle was a black limousine that had been specially constructed for the purpose of transporting a monarch. The entire rear was one huge window made of bulletproof glass, so that the sovereign should be easily visible.

Dottie sat there by herself. Randolph had chosen to sit in the front, beside the chauffeur, and by now she was sufficiently attuned to protocol to understand that this detail was significant. On this important day her people would see her alone.

She couldn't know that Randolph had another reason. He sat apart from her because he needed time to sort out the turmoil of his feelings.

Dottie's harsh judgment of him had briefly been right. He'd left the palace in a mood of bitterness, and headed for his estate, meaning to stay there. Dottie's mistrust, her accusations that he'd acted from base motives, infuriated him, and the look on her face when she'd said “I can't bear to look at you,” had struck him like a blow. He'd put as much distance between them as he could.

But he'd barely arrived at his country house when his more generous self reclaimed him. He'd brought her here, dumped her in the middle of a crisis and then abandoned her. And why? Because his pride was hurt. He, who'd always said that feelings didn't count beside his duty to his country, had done something so cruel.

He'd spent the night pacing the floor, and next day he'd returned to the palace, arriving just in time. He'd searched her face as he entered, for any sign that she was pleased to see him, but her manner had all the regal austerity that he'd tried to teach her. It should have been a triumphant moment.

Now they were entering Wolfenberg, drawing up before the parliament building, an elaborate edifice that looked incongruously like a wedding cake on the outside. But inside it was redolent of history. Tapestries, depicting battles, hung on the walls. Statues of monarchs stood gloomily in niches. Red tiles streamed across the floors.

In a small chamber that led directly to the cabinet room Randolph said to Dottie, “Would you oblige me by waiting here a moment, while I go in first, to make sure everything is in order for you?”

She nodded and he strode into the next room. The ministers were already in place, and they greeted him with relief.

“If you're going to direct proceedings, sir, we'll all be very relieved,” Sternheim announced. He was one of the few who hadn't warmed to Dottie.

“I'm not,” Randolph announced flatly. “And you must put any such thought out of your head.”

There was a universal groan.

“A woman,” Sternheim said. “And a stupid, ignorant foreigner at that.”

“Keep your voice down,” Randolph snapped. “That is exactly the kind of attitude I came to warn you about.”

“Be assured we shall observe all proper respect,” Durmand said soothingly.

“I meant more than that,” Randolph told him. “Let me tell you something about your crown princess. She might be naive but she isn't stupid, especially about people. Don't ever make the mistake of underestimating her, because she'll pounce on any slip you make like a ferret up a drainpipe.”

Sternheim was aghast. “Like a what?”

“Never mind,” Randolph said hastily. He didn't know what had made him say that, except that Dottie's rich language had come back to him suddenly, and it was catching.

Next door Dottie walked up and down, increasingly nervous at the delay. Aunt Liz had opened the door a crack and was shamelessly eavesdropping.

Dottie couldn't bring herself to do the same but “stupid, ignorant foreigner” reached her clearly.

“If he just went in there to stir them up he needn't have bothered,” she muttered.

“Of course not,” Aunt Liz said. “He's trying to ensure that they show you respect.”

“Then he's doing a lousy job. And I'll fight my own battles,” she added illogically.

At last Randolph returned, to lead her into the cabinet room. It was lined with bookshelves weighed down by learned-looking tomes. In the center was a heavy table, large enough to seat fourteen people. Randolph led her to her seat, and when he had solemnly presented her he stepped back and to the side, moving his chair to where she could just see him out of the corner of her eye.

Durmand gave a speech of welcome, then he courteously asked if she had anything to say to her ministers.

“Yes,” she said. “I have. Please sit.”

When they were all seated she felt horribly exposed, the only one on her feet. Until today it had been a kind of game. Suddenly it was for real.

“I think none of us really expected this moment to come,” she said in a voice that surprised her by being steady. “I thought you would find somebody more suitable, and you must certainly have hoped for it.”

Perceiving that their sovereign had made a witticism the ministers permitted themselves a few smiles.

“But here we are, and must make the best of each other,” she continued. “I know I can rely on your loyalty both to me, and to Elluria. And you can rely on my loyalty to my new country.”

That pleased them and she was able to smile as she seated herself, asking, “What do we do now?”

It seemed there were many matters requiring her attention. Since it was her prerogative to appoint the cabinet every minister resigned and was immediately reappointed.

“But I may wish to make a few changes later,” Dottie observed. “I notice that there are no women here.”

“There are only six women in parliament,” Stern-heim noted caustically.

“And how many men?” Dottie wanted to know.

Sternheim gave a snort of impatience. “I don't recall the precise figure.”

“But you're my chancellor. If such a simple sum is beyond you, perhaps I should think again.”

There were smothered smiles. Sternheim snapped. “Eighty-two.”

“And only six women? Well, there'll be time for me to put that right.”

Bernhard Enderlin, minister of the Interior, coughed gently. “Strictly speaking, ma'am, that's my province.”

“Certainly it is,” Dottie agreed warmly. “I look forward to discussing it with you. Shall we say sometime next week? That will give you time to work out your plan. How lucky that I'm here.”

“I see that you believe in taking the bull by the horns, ma'am,” Enderlin said, accepting defeat with grace.

“Otherwise known as being a steamroller,” Dottie murmured. “Is there any other business?”

“The Korburg ambassador is agitating for his master to be invited for a private visit,” Enderlin said. “It hardly seems advisable in the circumstances.”

“I disagree,” Dottie said at once. “Do you want him to think you're so unsure of me that you're hiding me from him? Nothing could be more dangerous. Never mind a private visit. Let's invite him for a state visit.”

There was consternation around the table.

“The more fuss the better,” Dottie rattled on be fore anyone could speak. “Let him see that the throne of Elluria is occupied. That'll teach him.”

Consternation changed to smiles as her meaning got through, and there were murmurs of approval.

“Bull by the horns, gentlemen,” Dottie said. “Boldness is best. Harold and I can get a good look at each other. He'll spit feathers, I'll say 'Get knotted!' and that will be that. All right, don't faint any of you. I'll just smile sweetly and do my stuff.”

Everyone sighed with relief. Durmand, seeming to feel that the sooner the meeting ended the better for everyone's nerves, murmured, “In that case…”

“One moment,” Dottie stopped him. “I have another appointment to make. You all know how unprepared I am for all this. Some people think I'm no more than a 'stupid, ignorant foreigner.”' She waited for the nervous frisson to die down. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Randolph give a faint smile. “Maybe I am, but it's not all I am, and to prove that I need help. Nobody can help me better than Prince Randolph, which is why,” she took a deep breath, “I'm asking him to be my confidential, private secretary.”

There were smiles of pleasure and relief. Dottie turned to Randolph, expecting to see approval, perhaps even a smile, but at once she knew she'd misread him. Of everyone in the room, he alone was not pleased, although good manners prevented him from saying so. He inclined his head and murmured something about wishing only to serve her, but his heart wasn't in it.

On the journey home he joined her in the back, shutting the partition so that they could speak privately.