A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain

Chapter 234: Beauclerk

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Chapter 234: Beauclerk



February, 1732



Charles shuffled some of the papers on his table and then looked at the man sat opposite him. George, Duke of Gloucester, Admiral of the Fleet and commander of the Northern fleet and his oldest friend, the man was his direct superior, but looked absolutely exhausted. Charles handed him a glass of this new drink that had emerged from the Highlands, that the Duke of Albany trumpeted on about named Fire Rand and then raised it in a toast. “To the King.” He said.

“To the King.” The Duke replied.

They both took hearty drinks and then, Charles said. “We’re going to be here for a while. No news as to where the Spanish ships are. I think they might still be trying to understand why we left Cadiz.”

George took another sip and then replied. “I wouldn’t blame them. We could have taken the city and then moved inland, forcing them out of the war. I know my brother wanted to do that.”

“The King?” Charles asked, the King did not seem the type of person who would willingly do something that daring.

“No, York.” George replied. “He has commands of the Coldstream and the Royal Albany regiments both of which are designed for that sort of warfare. The King overruled him.”

Charles laughed. “I’m sure he appreciated that.” The Duke of York and Albany was a proud man who lived for war, being overruled on something such as that must have stung.

“He got sent into Italy, to drive home the advantage there.” Gloucester replied taking another sip.

Seizing on that piece of news, and marvelling that his friend had confided in him about a little bit of drama within the Royal Family, when usually they were quite silent on the matter, he asked. “Do you think this war will finish soon then? If Albany is heading into Italy.”

George took another sip, and then replied. “I do not know, Charles. I know the King wants the war to end. He thinks it would take one final push into Tuscany from all sides to make the Neapolitan King concede. But then there is the dealing from the Emperor, and the natural distrust of the French running through everything.”

Charles took a sip of his drink and said. “I’d heard about the offer the Emperor made to the Archduke, do you think he will accept it?”

“I think he’d be mad not to. It would get the Dutch off his case, and restore some semblance of normalcy.” George replied.

“So, why are we not investing the Tuscan ports to really hammer home this point?” Charles wondered aloud. “Why are we frankly patrolling waters which are going nowhere.”

“Because that is the surest way to show the Spanish that we are not truly intending to aggress against them. King Leopold knows he has no hope of holding out for long in a prolonged naval conflict against us closer to his home, therefore we are here, patrolling waters the Spanish barely consider worthwhile anymore.” George said.

“When we could be forcing the end of the war in Tuscany?” Charles asked. “Surely you cannot be happy with that, George? You are a great naval commander, you are the reason we almost took Cadiz. Grafton said so himself.”

“I am aware.” His friend said with his usual modesty. “But I cannot override the Lord High Admiral.”

Charles snorted. “Berkeley?”

Lord High Admiral Berkeley, was a man who’d done enough during the Eight Years War and the Spanish War to merit promotion through the ranks. He was a decent sailor but a poor thinker. Yet somehow he had risen through the ranks of the admiralty to become Lord High Admiral following Grafton’s death. “Why does the King listen to him?”

Now here, Charles expected his friend to get defensive for his brother. The Royal Family were extremely close and always defended one another, but this time, the Duke sighed. “Because Berkeley is liked by Walpole and Walpole continues to defend him to the Queen, and therefore the King.”

“But surely The King knows more about this than the Queen? And surely more than Walpole.” Charles replied.

“He does, but he does not know who to replace him with.” George said.

“You!” Charles said instantly, wondering not for the first time why his friend didn’t push himself forward more.

“I am not experienced enough. I was only young when the Spanish war finished. This is my first true experience at fighting.” George replied.

“And? You are smarter than Berkeley, you know the men and they love you. Put your name forward!” Charles demanded.

George laughed. “You sound just like Henrietta, she said the same thing.”

“Well your wife is right, Your Royal Highness.” Charles said.

“What do you expect me to do?” George asked. “Write to the King in the middle of the war and tell him that his Lord High Admiral is a fool and needs to be replaced, and oh the replacement should be me? Do you know how that would look? The King would not take kindly to it, and neither would I!”

“So, what you propose instead is that we remain under the command of a man who doesn’t know the best way to motivate and lead his men. Who relies on naval strategies that went dead before the end of the last war, and who is a buffoon?” Charles replied caustically.

“I…” George said then an idea came to him. “I won’t suggest myself, but I will suggest someone replace him.”

“Who?” Charles asked curiously.

“Byng.” George replied. “The man has wits, he has brains, and he shares our ideals.”

“Byng is old, but then I suppose that makes sense. He will serve a year perhaps two, and then die, and then you can take your rightful place.” Charles said.

“Something like that.” George said, before making a note of it.
 
Lord High Admiral Berkeley, was a man who’d done enough during the Eight Years War and the Spanish War to merit promotion through the ranks. He was a decent sailor but a poor thinker. Yet somehow he had risen through the ranks of the admiralty to become Lord High Admiral following Grafton’s death. “Why does the King listen to him?”

Now here, Charles expected his friend to get defensive for his brother. The Royal Family were extremely close and always defended one another, but this time, the Duke sighed. “Because Berkeley is liked by Walpole and Walpole continues to defend him to the Queen, and therefore the King.”
That and being the late Grafton's in-law, though a Royal and an almost Royal but-from-wrong-side-of-blanket Duke do not consider this factor as something of high importance:)
 
Re. the naval administration controversy, the King better put the office in the commission for a few years, installing Byng as the First Lord of Admiralty, keeping Lord High Admiral rank for a Royal family/extended Royal family including illegitimate branches of Stгuarts member (Berkeley barely technically fits being married to Grafton's daughter).
 

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Re. the naval administration controversy, the King better put the office in the commission for a few years, installing Byng as the First Lord of Admiralty, keeping Lord High Admiral rank for a Royal family/extended Royal family including illegitimate branches of Stгuarts member (Berkeley barely technically fits being married to Grafton's daughter).

Agreed there, I do think though that given Byng's advanced age, he's not going to be First Lord for very long
 
Agreed there, I do think though that given Byng's advanced age, he's not going to be First Lord for very long
Well, then likely the King handles the reigns of Admiralty to his brother&cousin depicted in chapter above (Gloucester as Lord High Admiral, St.Albans as Vice-Admiral of Britain - reminding many of tandem of their grandfathers in late 1660ies - late 1670ies), and Charles Wager would as OTL be promoted by Walpole to First Lord (as OTL)
 

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Well, then likely the King handles the reigns of Admiralty to his brother&cousin depicted in chapter above (Gloucester as Lord High Admiral, St.Albans as Vice-Admiral of Britain - reminding many of tandem of their grandfathers in late 1660ies - late 1670ies), and Charles Wager would as OTL be promoted by Walpole to First Lord (as OTL)

Makes sense to me, though would there necessarily need to be as First Lord, given it was a political position whilst Lord High Admiral sort of covered both no?
 
Makes sense to me, though would there necessarily need to be as First Lord, given it was a political position whilst Lord High Admiral sort of covered both no?
Agree with you there, as the reduction of LHA power in favor of Admiralty Commission never happened TTL, so First Lord position is obsolete with active LHA and Vice-Admiral of Britannia.
 

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Agree with you there, as the reduction of LHA power in favor of Admiralty Commission never happened TTL, so First Lord position is obsolete with active LHA and Vice-Admiral of Britannia.

Agreed there, so perhaps Wager could be considered as being next in line for the Vice Admirality
 
As Berkeley was Grafton's Vice-Admiral of Britain, likely (as he did OTL hold this office, TTL also helped with kinship to Grafton), he'll likely have Wager as his Vice Admiral already by now, given that Wager is a Walpole's man (so Gloucester & St. Albans can be considered likely replacement for these two).
 

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As Berkeley was Grafton's Vice-Admiral of Britain, likely (as he did OTL hold this office, TTL also helped with kinship to Grafton), he'll likely have Wager as his Vice Admiral already by now, given that Wager is a Walpole's man (so Gloucester & St. Albans can be considered likely replacement for these two).
Agreed there, the admiralty is going to be a hot pit of scheming now, especially if they lose an upcoming naval engagement
 
Chapter 235: Russia Awakens

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Chapter 235: Russia Awakens



June, 1732.


Alexei took a deep stretch and then focused on the task at hand. The hour was early, he’d decided to shake himself out of his stupor and do this. Henriette complained about it, but she had also admitted that it was good to see him back on his feet after the recent shocks that they had suffered as a family. He looked at his two advisors and then spoke.

“The Holy Roman Emperor’s ambassador insists that his ruler is serious about the offer that has been made. An alliance, and a free chance to hit Sweden, and a chance to keep whatever gains we make.” Alexei looked at them both. “We do not believe him.”

“Why ever not?” Alexander Kurakin asked. The man was his cousin and closest friend, though sometimes Alexei wished he’d be a slight bit less impudent.

“Because the man has also promised Pomerania to Prussia, and there is nothing else within the so called Swedish Empire that belongs within the Holy Roman Empire as it calls itself.” Alexei said. “It is an empty promise.”

“Still it’s better than nothing no?” Alexander replied. “After all, this is a free excuse to take Ingria and ensure that the other provinces see the benefit of moving from Sweden to Russia.”

“It would be far simpler to buy Ingria than anything else, Sire.” Andrey Osterman, his main secretary for foreign affairs said. “We have the money available, and the Swedes have done nothing with it. We could make the offer, ensure that they receive the amount needed for funding their war against Prussia and move on with things.”

“But that does not seem the right course to take.” Alexander protested. “Why buy something when you can win it through honourable means?”

“You do not think saving innocent lives and using the hard-earned cash of the Tsar is honourable?” Andrey fired back.

Before Alexander could respond, Alexei interjected. “We shall make the offer for Ingria, but if King Charles is smart he shall offer Estonia as well.”

“That would be a concession too far, I think. They can abide by the selling of Ingria, but anything else would be seen as weakness.” Osterman replied.

Alexei thought on that for a moment and then said. “Very well, make the offer and ensure that it is within reasonable limits.”

“Yes Sire.” Alexander replied.

“There is another matter that must needs be discussed, Sire.” Osterman said.

“And what is that?” Alexei asked.

“Persia.” Osterman replied briefly. “Mainly the fact that there are forces gathering behind the deposed Shah to reinstate him and remove Nader Khan from power.”

“Have they got land available for the taking?” Alexei asked. He was hesitant about going into such wars, for he knew how costly they could be and just how ineffective they often were.

“There are rumours that Georgia might soon become a bastion of rebellion, but nothing is confirmed as of now.” Osterman replied.

“Why should we get involved in a Persian dispute? Let them kill one another and then if we need to we can enforce terms on them.” Alexander said.

“Alexander speaks truly.” Alexei said. “We shall see how things progress in Persia, and should the opportunity arise we shall take it. But otherwise we shall remain aloof from such things.”

Osterman did not seem happy, but he acquiesced all the same. “Of course, Sire.”

“Now, we shall let you go, spend time with your wives and children. We shall meet later on for other more interesting discussions.” Alexei said with a wink to Alexander who burst out laughing knowing just what he was referring to.
 
Chapter 236: Bavaria

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Chapter 236: Bavaria



November, 1732


Maximilian looked at the letters and he wanted to scream. “It is a never ending mess this damned war.” He swore. His wife took his hand and he looked at her. She was his only comfort, well her and their children. The rest of this damned thing was just painful. He had known he would be Elector of Bavaria eventually, he had spent time in Bavaria ruling in his father’s name, but that had been in peace time. In war time, he felt more like a puppet than anything else. “Neither my brother nor the Emperor realise just how damnably frustrating it is to do what they ask me.”

“What is it they ask of you?” his wife Elisabeth of Poland asked him. They’d been married for seventeen years now, and whilst they perhaps might not love one another, at least not in the way he assumed one was supposed to love your wife, there was nobody he trusted more.

“Leopold wants me to send men toward the southern front and engage in some sort of shock tactic. He wants me to use the Sulzbachs as a contingency, forgetting that the Sulzbachs are complete fools who know little more than their own arses.” Maximilian groused. His wife laughed. “And the Emperor insists I send more troops to the Rhine to fight against the French there. If I send anymore troops there I will have a full scale riot on my hands.”

“Because of how many men will be sent away from ensuring the food is prepared for the oncoming snows?” Elisabeth asked.

“That and the fact that the harvest wasn’t the greatest this time.” Maximilian admitted. “But I cannot countenance going against the Emperor, any more than I can going against Leopold.”

“Surely it makes more sense to listen to the Emperor? He is your superior after all.” Elisabeth said with her rationale.

“I know, but Leopold is my brother, my older brother. I have not disobeyed him since we were small.” Maximilian said. The moment the words left his mouth, he felt stupid. He was a man grown, he did not need to worry about his brother’s approval anymore than he had needed to worry about his mother’s after he’d left Spain all those years ago.

He looked at his wife and expected contempt from her, instead there was understanding in her eyes. “You want to please him because he is your older brother and he has your first loyalty?” Elisabeth asked.

“Yes.” Maximilian replied, happy and relieved that his wife understood him so well. How could he ever had thought she’d dismiss his concerns?

“And what do you think should be done for Bavaria?” His wife asked. “You have said that things are going badly with the harvest and the supply.”

“I cannot send more men anywhere.” Maximilian replied. “I need to find a way to convince the Emperor that that is the case.”

“The Emperor and not Leopold?” His wife asked.

Maximilian took his wife’s hand. “Leopold will understand, we are family. The Emperor is a harder person to convince. He is my uncle, but he also has to defeat France for reasons nobody can quite remember. I will write to him and give him the accounts. If he has any sense he will agree to this.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Elisabeth asked.

“Then perhaps it is time I considered following my father’s pathway.” Maximilian replied.

Elisabeth nodded. “I shall write to my brother and cousin.” Maximilian kissed her hand then.
 
Chapter 237: Voltaire's Prince

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Chapter 237: Voltaire’s Prince



March, 1733


George looked at the correspondence that had come from Hampton Court, one letter from his mother reminding him about something or the other, and another from Anne, his wife, telling him about herself and their daughters. He had two daughters now. Twins, born nine months after their wedding, Caroline and Mary. It felt odd to him that he was a father, he had never seen his daughters, having been at war for their entire lives. It was something he deeply regretted, but knew he could do nothing about. He was Prince of Wales after all, and his father had tasked him with duty and war.

“What bothers you, Your Royal Highness?” His friend and mentor Voltaire asked.

The Frenchman had lived in Britannia for about four years before the war had begun and thus his English was much better than it had been, and much less accented than George’s French was. “I am not sure.”

Voltaire looked at the letters on the table and then said. “You miss your wife and daughters, that is understandable. You have after all been away from them for three years. And your friend the Marquess of Blandford has returned home.”

George said nothing for a brief moment. That Jaime had returned home to his estates, whilst George was forced to stay here stung. His friend had been far more relieved to return than to stay. “I do not know what my purpose is here.” George eventually said. “I am commanding a regiment of soldiers, some of whom have far more experience than I, most of whom are older than I am. But we are not engaging in direct field action, that is instead being left to the King. We are instead set to patrolling and ensuring nothing goes astray. All for a war to see some foreign Duke take another Dukedom that does not affect us whatsoever.”

“And this frustrates you?” Voltaire asked.

“Of course it does!” George snapped. If the war is about Tuscany, then we should be fighting in Tuscany, or Savoy or Naples or somewhere. But we are not. We are fighting on the Rhine between the border of France and the Empire. A war that could end if the King of Britannia and King of France combined their forces together to drive right toward the centre of the Empire. but instead they flit around the edges, as if they are too scared to do anything more. I do not understand it!”

“Have you mentioned this to the King?” Voltaire asked.

George turned around and glared at his friend. “You know the answer to that. I have not seen the King in a month and a half.”

“You could still have written to him, Your Royal Highness, alerted him to your frustrations.” Voltaire suggested.

George snorted. “Pah, the King would not listen. And I will not degrade my position by suggesting it.”

“And therein lies your problem, Your Royal Highness.” Voltaire replied. “In trying to keep your position from degradation and avoid being seen as complaining you are growing in frustration and are perhaps more likely to do something rash and foolish when the chance for action actually arises.”

George raised an eyebrow. “You think I am like my uncle?” The Duke of York and Albany had once as a young man been so frustrated with how little action he was seeing during the Spanish War that when his chance had come, he had charged head first into a volley of bullets, having to be saved by the Earl of Peterborough.

Voltaire shook his head. “No, you are far older than your uncle was during his first experience of war. Instead, I think that you are trying to keep reasonable frustrations buried within you. That will only have on outcome, and it will come out on the battlefield. Either through some sort of tactical oversight, or something else. But what you must do now, is write to the King, tell him of your concerns, tell him how you think you would be best used, and how you think the regiment you command would be best used and…” Voltaire trailed off and then looked at the letters on the table. “Tell him you wish to see your wife and daughters.”

George listened to his mentor, what the man said made sense, but some part of him was still somewhat reluctant to do it, even if deep down he still knew it was the right thing to do. “The King did not leave the battlefield himself when my mother was looking after myself and my siblings, until his father died.”

“That was then, this is now.” Voltaire said. “You are to be the King in the future, you must show your father that you are not simply going to bend to every command he makes. Use your mind, Your Royal Highness and think of the way to get what you want.”

George thought on that, what his mentor said was true. He was miserable, three years of nonstop fighting and for what? He had proved himself, he did not like fighting or war. He preferred politics, now that he could do. As he thought that, the idea came to him. “I know what I will say.”

“Excellent.” Voltaire replied. He bowed before departing, leaving George to hastily write out a letter for his father’s eyes only.
 
Chapter 238: A King's Confidence

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Chapter 238: A King’s Confidence



July, 1733



James looked at the letters from his wife and son and laughed. “The boy has guts I must admit.”

His friend the Duke of Marlborough grinned. “Oh? Has he finally put his foot down?”

“Yes.” James said. “Read this.” He handed the letter to him and waited for his friend to finish reading. The war had been waging for a long time now, and he was beginning to grow tired of it. He wondered if he might need to recall Parliament for more funds. Still this was good, at least his son had some balls.

John finished reading the letter and laughed. “He truly has balls, Your Majesty.”

“Indeed he does. A good thing too,” James said. “I was beginning to worry he would never ask for this.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” John asked.

“Well the fact that he spent most of the time wallowing around and doing nothing apart from moan and fight.” James said.

“Well, now he’s given you your chance to ensure he returns to London and keeps things there whilst you are away on this war.” John said.

“Indeed, this is very true.” James replied. “And just like when my father died after a well fought battle, he will return a hero.” That was in reference to the victory his son had achieved in breaking through the stalemate on the Rhine.

“And what about Parliament?” John asked, gesturing to the letter that Caroline had written. “Will you ask the Queen to recall it?”

James sighed. “I do not know. It depends on how long this damned war continues for. We’ve broken through into the Netherlands now and will likely be able to block their ports, which will force them into submission. That will leave the Emperor with just Spain and Naples. Both of whom seem to be lacking in commitment to the war effort.”

“And what about Flanders? Has he given you an answer as to whether or not he will accept his brother’s monetary incentive?” John asked.

James sighed. “Not yet. He keeps saying he needs to think.”

“Think?!” John exclaimed. “What is there to think about? It’s been three years! Either he takes it or he doesn’t!”

“He’s a Habsburg.” James replied bemused. “Indecisiveness is their forte when it comes to family matters. Either way, we might soon not need to deal with that.”

“Have you received word from our friends in France then?” John asked, referring to the members of Versailles that had been bought thanks to Britannic money.

“Yes.” James said. “And our ambassador has finally earned his keep.” John laughed at that, they both knew the ambassador got the information he did through sleeping with anything that had a pulse.

“And? What have they said?” John pressed.

“King Louis is looking to reconcile with his brother. It seems the King of France suffered some sort of incident a few weeks ago and now wishes to make amends before he dies. It also seems that King Philippe is willing to do the same.” James said.

“So, there will be a Bourbon compact?” John asked. Though he was not as politically adept as his mother was, the 2nd Duke of Marlborough had good brains, and was a quick thinker, which was why he had been so good on the battlefield. “That will mean that the Emperor will pivot towards us.”

“Exactly.” James said. “It is now our duty to encourage the French to go through with this pivot and to restore balance and peace.”

“How?” John asked.

“Subtly, I do not have a complete plan just yet, but when I do it will happen. Naples cannot afford to stay in Tuscany for too long, they are getting destroyed there. They will need peace, and reconciliation. Our navy commands the Channel and the coast off of Spain, one word and they can take command of the Mediterranean as well. That threat should be enough to get things going.” James said, hoping the advice the Lord High Admiral had given him was accurate enough.

“And the Prince of Wales?” John asked.

James got the feeling that his friend was nervous he would reply negatively, given the way his friend’s son and his namesake had acted during the war. Sleeping with a fellow officer’s wife before and during the campaign, and then sleeping with the officer’s mistress. All kinds of chaos. James looked at his friend and said. “The Prince will return to Britannia forthwith. He shall not be regent, and instead he shall learn from the Queen and serve on the cabinet.”

John seemed to visibly relax. James was surprised, the man had known George since birth, did he really think that the lad would do something so rash as to damage the relationship between their two families over some perceived slight? “Good.” Was all the 2nd Duke of Marlborough had to say, though James heard more in that word than in anything else.
 
Chapter 239: A Gaggle of Ladies

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Chapter 239: A Gaggle of Ladies



November, 1733



Louise Elisabeth, Duchess of Anjou by virtue of her marriage to the King of France’s second son the Duke of Anjou put down her book as the Queen cleared her throat. These sessions were weekly occurrences where the ladies of the immediate royal family would gather together in the Queen’s solar to talk and gossip. She had been surprised by this at first, having never experienced anything like this at Hampton Court, but since arriving in Versailles three years ago, she had become used to them. She knew just how this was going to go.

As expected, the Queen who looked slightly tired, spoke first. “My girls,” she was sat in the centre with the chairs and sofas all around her in a circle, so she was the centre of attention. “it has been an interesting few months, and of course now that the time is approaching toward the celebrations of our Lord and Saviour’s birth we must discuss somethings.” The Queen looked expectantly at the Dauphine, Maria Theresa of Flanders.

The woman spoke then. “The feast that is being prepared will require several hundred decorations and new cutlery sets to be made and bought and produced for inspection before the actual banquet. It is expected that all of us shall have something suitable to wear for the banquet but also for the ball that is to follow.”

Louise wanted to sigh, what was it with the French and their obsession with balls? She had been to three in the past six months alone. “Is there a specific theme to this one, Your Majesty?” She asked the Queen. Her French had improved considerably since she had first arrived. Speaking with her ladies alone had helped.

“No, only that you are to be formal as can be.” The Queen said.

Louise nodded. “Thank you, Your Majesty.” She found the ridiculous themes of the previous balls to be just that, ridiculous and unnecessary. Her husband agreed with her, she knew, but he had gone along with it for the sake of what he called ‘family harmony’ why he worried about that when he was by all accounts the darling of the King, she did not know.

The Queen then interrupted her thought process by turning conversation to something else. “So, in the honoured tradition of these gatherings, let us now discuss the recent escapades of the court.”

There was some tittering at that which Louise found annoying, however she paid attention when the Dauphine who was heavily pregnant spoke. “The Duke of Maine has begun trying to find a way to sell off some of his wealth to pay off his wife’s debt.”

“That is not surprising,” the Queen said. “Given how much that woman spends, we are surprised that the woman has not forced her husband into this much sooner.”

Louise spoke then, a question to her tone. “Hasn’t the Duke of Maine been looking for marriage partners for his children also? He might be selling off some of his wealth to try and garner favour with some of the more prominent families.” She knew exactly who Maine would want as well, the Orleans were growing in wealth and stature daily, but so too was her husband’s uncle the Duke of Normandy.

The Queen nodded. “Indeed, though we seriously doubt that will happen.” the Queen nodded her thanks to the Dauphine before asking. “What else?”

The Duchess of Berry who was a sweet girl with a keen ear spoke then. “I heard from the Princess of Condé that she and her husband are considering separating due to a lack of issue.”

Louise leaned forward, if such a thing happened that would force the Princess to leave court and would mean the Prince would himself not be able to command in the field, something her father would definitely want to know. The Queen seemed unperturbed by this, though whether that was because she knew or whether she had a good blank face, Louise did not know. “That would be a shame, they do look quite well together.”

Finding her curiosity getting the better of her, Louise asked. “If they did separate would the Prince marry again?”

“Perhaps, or he might be content to allow his brother the Count of Charlois to inherit the title.” The Queen said.

That caused some tittering amongst the ladies’ present, Charlois was mad, he must have been for he had once killed an innocent man in the street, and had been kept under guard in his rooms for it. He had also nearly beaten a whore to within an inch of her life. And recently had almost killed the former Spanish ambassador’s groom for sleeping with his mistress. “That would be quite something.” Louise ended up commenting, which drew laughs from the ladies.

“Quite.” The Queen said nodding.

The discussion carried on for some more time before eventually coming to an end. As she got up and left the solar and made her way back to her own chamber, she found herself thinking that the only useful thing she had learned was about Condé and even then, by the time it got to her father, he might have decided to remarry. She would just have to press harder next time.
 
Darling, can we expect Bourbon & Oldenburg family trees ver. 2.0 - the current ones are stuck in 1710ies so to say.
 
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