“Is the Book of Laws at the Summer Palace or here?” she asked.
“I do not know,” said Armand, “I have never seen it except the day that the King read old Henry’s decree and offered me Hugo’s titles and estates.”
“Well, at least, he spoke of it to you to-day.”
Armand shook his head. “Never a word; neither to-day nor for many days.”
A faint frown showed between her eyes. “Didn’t he mention to you, this afternoon, the matter of the Succession?”
She sat up sharply. “It can’t be he didn’t——”
The Archduke dropped on the floor at her feet and took her hand. “I assure you, Dehra, the King didn’t speak a single word to me on such a matter.”
“No, no,” she said, “you don’t understand. I mean it can not be he didn’t make the decree.”
“The decree!” Armand exclaimed, though he knew well there was but one she would refer to; and his pulse bounded fiercely and his face grew very hot.
“Yes, dear—the decree—that would have made you Heir Presumptive—and now King.”
“Not directly, but by inference. I came upon him late last night in his library, with the Laws open before him and a pen in his hand; and when I ventured to voice my curiosity, he smiled and closed the book, saying, ‘You may see it to-morrow, child; after I have told Armand.’”
“Doubtless he intended to tell me after the review.”
The Princess leaned over and put her arm around his neck.
“And now you are the King, dear; as he had always intended you should be,” she whispered. “Thank God, the decree was made in time.”
For a while Armand toyed with her slender fingers, and did not answer. Of course, she was right:—it was the decree they both had been hoping for so earnestly, but which neither had dared mention to the King. And now, when it had come, and in such fashion, was it really worth the while. Worth the turmoil and the trouble, and, may be, the fighting, that was sure to follow his assumption of the royal dignity. Had Frederick lived to proclaim the decree and to school the Nation into accepting him as his successor, the way would have been easy and well assured. But it was vastly different now—with Frederick dead, the decree yet to be announced, and few, doubtless, of those in authority around him, to be depended on to aid him hold the throne. Dalberg though he was, and now, by birth, the Head of the House, yet he was a foreigner, and no people take kindly to a foreign King. Frederick had died too soon—another year——