(Pictured Left: Duchess Margaretta)
Location: The Residence of Grand Duke Peter, Van Demons Land. Date: 7 February 1746.
“The crown should be yours”!
“Now my dear, we’ve discussed this. The law is very clear on the matter,…”
Grand Duke Peter was desperate to calm his Duchess.
“An un-just law! Flawed in the sight of God! If you were a real man you would challenge your usurper brother and take what is yours, in the eyes of God”!
His efforts were failing, yet again.
Duchess Margaretta's rage was not to be dampened.
The argument was an old one. The law was very clear on the matter at hand. Only Mormoan’s could sit on the twin thrones of the Holy Mormoan Kingdom of New Wales. Since Grand Duke Peter was married to a Catholic, (and a Dutch Catholic at that), the Crowns had passed to his younger brother Phillip, and even younger Queen, Raechel.
At the time of their marriage Margaretta, appeared content to accept the situation, she appeared to accept she would never be Queen.
“Oh well, Grand Duchess. Hmm, I guess I can live with that” she purred in his ear only four years earlier.
“Duchess my dear, only a Duchess,…” Peter corrected her.
But that was four years ago. She was but the daughter of a petty “well to do” family. She was not even of the original Mormoan families. Her family had arrived direct from
How her perspective had changed.
Was her rage born out of jealousy of the younger, more beautiful Queen? Maybe.
She barely managed to hide her contempt for Queen Raechel.
She was almost thirty years older than Queen Raechel, (and more than a few years older than Grand Duke Peter).
Her harsh, stern features compared badly against the soft, youthful face of Rachel’s.
Whatever the reason, she was now adamant that she (and Peter of course), should be on the thrown.
“You are loved by the people of Van Demons Land. At least brake away and declare this islands independence from New
Peter’s patient was starting to wear thin.
“SILENCE WITCH”! he snapped.(Pictured : Grand Duke Peter)
“I will not hear of any more of this treasonous talk against my brother”!
The Duchess recoiled. Not often did Peter raise his voice.
“I, I was only thinking that, maybe….”
“ENOUGH I SAY”!
She took another step back, both hands now clasped over her mouth.
Peter could see she was shocked.
“Forgive me my dear, but I must be firm on this issue. I love my little brother. He is my King. I will not discuss the matter any more. The subject is closed”
He stepped towards her. “Now let us go for a walk in the gardens; it is such a beautiful evening, is it not”?
“Of course my lord. It is I that must beg your forgiveness. I will not raise the issue again”
She was lying,…
TO BE CONTINUED!