A Britain of Panthers and Lions: House of Oldenburg Britain

[VVD0D95]

Chapter 228: Grafton



June, 1730​

Henry Fitzroy, Duke of Grafton and Lord High Admiral was sat at his desk inside the Great Britannia, the biggest ship that the Royal Navy had, reading through documents and papers that had arrived over the past few months. He knew he was dying, he had a terrible cough, and sometimes blood would come out when he wiped his mouth. He did not want to die at his estates or at Hampton Court. He was a sailor and he wanted to die at sea, doing what he loved. That was why he was happy the King had given him leave to command the fleet heading to attack Spain.

A knock at his door took his thoughts from his death. “Come in.” he said.

The door opened and Vice Admiral Haddock entered. “Sir.” The man said.

“What news?” He asked.

“We’ve broken through the Spanish lines, Sir. They’re going to be going full ahead with the bombardment.” Haddock said.

Henry immediately stood up. “Excellent.” They had been fighting the Spanish for some two weeks now, going back and forth trying to breach through their lines. Now that they had he knew they could advance on Cadiz and take the town.

He walked passed Haddock and walked out up the stairs and onto the deck. His sailors greeted him. “Wind gage?” He called out.

“Seven points north, Sir.” Came the call back.

“Spanish positions?” He asked.

“Straight and west.” The call came.

Henry took the telescope from Haddock and pressed it to his eye. He tightened the direction and saw that there were twenty ships to their north, he turned it to the west. Another thirty. He handed the telescope back to Haddock. “They’ve summoned their Atlantic fleet for this.”

“They must be desperate, Sir. The Atlantic fleet hasn’t won anything in centuries.” Haddock said.

“Indeed.” Henry said. “We wait until they closer then we move into position and fire the guns.” With that he stepped back. Allowing the guns to be loaded and for the sailors to get into position. The orders were relayed to the other ships in the fleet. He could feel the thrill of battle approaching. This would be something magnificent he was sure.

As they moved closer and the Spanish came closer, the ships were all prepared for battle. The Spanish unleashed first. Firing a shot that went right over Henry’s head. It crash landed into the water. “Fire.” Henry roared. The chorus of guns was unleashed. Moving backwards and forwards, the ship rocked under the weight of the damage being done. Henry coughed, he kept steady though, knowing that sooner or later they would have to engage.

The Great Britannia crushed any smaller ship and as such, Henry looked at the drowning Spanish sailors with contempt. They had chosen to go through with madness, they would not get any sympathy from him. As his own sailors began being hit by bolts and balls, he started coughing more. “Move to the aft.” He roared. The move was made and the ships started thinning, until he saw what was before them.

“Bloody hell.” Haddock muttered.

“Fire!” Henry roared. The ship and the fleet all fired at once, destroying the ship one bit by bit. But as it progressed, the ship fired as well. Henry did not know what happened next. One moment the ship was destroying the enemy, the next he was in the water being pulled down by the weight of his clothes and his finery. He coughed, accepting his fate.

 

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Chapter 229: Prussia, Mother Prussia



September, 1730
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Frederick William, King in Prussia and Elector of Brandenburg looked at the man before him. The Imperial ambassador to the Prussia court was a handsome man who had charmed several of the ladies in Berlin, that Frederick was aware of. Not that he minded, but still, there was a time and place for that. He knew very well why the man had come, and he knew what he would ask. Therefore, like any good King, Frederick pre-empted him.

“The Emperor wants me to join him in fighting France and Britannia, over some issue in Italy.” Frederick said. Before the ambassador could continue he pushed on. “He wants me to fight alongside Spain and Naples. Spain who lost the battle of Cadiz, and lost the battle of the Medway with Britannia, to give Britannia naval advantage. Spain who are currently being repulsed from French Navarre. Naples, who are facing incursions in Tuscany from those loyal to the Medici and their last Grand Duke’s chosen heir.”

Heinrich Johann, Prince of Auersperg spoke then. “He wishes you to fight alongside him, and to prevent the growth of French power.”

Frederick William laughed. “What is French power compared to what is happening now? France does not have the means to exert any sort of power in the Empire without an alliance of Princes. And so far none of the Princes have sided with him. they have either sided with the Emperor or remained neutral.”

“And yet, they have pulled in with them another nation who threatens Prussia’s existence.” Auersperg said.

Frederick was about to scoff at that, when he then realised the truth in the statement. “Go on.” He said.

“Sweden wants to expand its lands more; King Charles is being led by an ambitious wife. The Emperor knows the only thing that can prevent him from doing so is Prussia. He knows that you need Pomerania to keep your lands linked closely together. Therefore, he is willing to negotiate something with you. In return for your support he will grant you leave to annex Pomerania.” Auersperg said.

“And no doubt bear the consequences should Sweden find other allies along the way.” Frederick grumbled, thinking of Poland.

Auersperg smiled, a smile that had charged Frederick’s own wife the first time they’d met. “On the contrary, Sire, Poland is going to be siding with you. They wish to take some of the lands that Sweden holds on the east.”

Frederick began considering this. If Poland was fighting alongside the Emperor, then perhaps there might be hope. Still there was a nagging doubt in his mind. “The Archduke of Flanders sided with Britannia and France, he did not remain loyal to his brother.”

He expected Auersperg to hesitate then, but instead the man smiled. He actually smiled! “Indeed he did. But you need not worry about that. The Dutch are going to be getting involved very soon, and the moment they are, the Archduke will return to his senses.” There was a brief pause then, as Auersperg let that dangle, Frederick William nodded. The man was clever he’d give him that. He knew all the right words to say.

“So, the question remains, am I going to side with the Emperor or remain neutral.” Frederick eventually said to break the silence.

“Indeed, Sire.” Auersperg said.

Frederick thought on this. He knew the infantry of Prussia was one of the best in the world, he also knew that they’d be fighting Sweden and not anyone else. His reports suggested Pomeranian nobility would side with them if he engaged. But he was loathe to go to war. It was costly, bloody and his father had failed last time. But then, a voice in his head whispered, you need not fail. He was better than his father he knew that. Had always known that. He looked Auersperg and then said. “Very well, we shall side with the Emperor.”

 

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Chapter 230: Flanders



December, 1730
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Charles fought against the cold by layering himself with clothes. He didn’t know how many he was wearing now, but he was at least feeling somewhat warm. As he looked across the table to where the King of Britannia sat, he did not know how that man remained where he was without shivering, for he wore only one piece of warm clothing. Snow at least had not fallen yet, which was a relief, but if it did, then they were doomed.

He looked at the King of Britannia and spoke in German, a language he was surprised the King knew how to speak. “The Dutch have dug their ground in for the winter. We will not have anymore fighting this time around.” That the fighting had lasted until earlier this month had surprised him, he had thought the usual campaign seasons would continue.

“Indeed.” The King replied. “I do however think that we need to start planning for a final push into Dutch territory before we can even consider aiding the French on the Rhine.”

Charles nodded. As far as he was concerned, the Dutch were the greater threat than the Palatine, as they were directly next to his Archduchy. His wife’s words continued to ring in his ears as well. “The Prince of Orange has shown no desire whatsoever to negotiate either. Nor has the estates general. That can only mean they want total war.”

“A sensible position. The Dutch fleet is weakened after their defeat at Solway Bay. Another defeat like that and their trading options remain weakened.” The King replied.

Charles considered this. He knew the strength of the Britannic fleet, he knew that it would soon come to dominate the waves, if the French continued to focus on their army. But still something about all of this felt odd. “Why do we not simply destroy their shipping and force them to come to the negotiating table?” Charles asked. “It would spare us more time and save a lot of lives.” He also knew that it would play better when the eventual negotiating did happen, rather than having a litany of bodies about.

King James shook his head. “I disagree. I think if we do that then they will starve, and instead of coming to the negotiating table they will actually only strengthen in resolve and decide to continue fighting. We both know the Emperor has provided them with massive subsidies and the Russians are aiding them through supplies. We need to give them a sense of still having a choice, before we bring the hammer down.”

“What do you mean?” Charles asked, hating that he was not as skilled in this as the King clearly was, but also not seeing the link.

“What I mean is that right now the Dutch know their fleet is behind, and as such they are plying all their resources into this ground war. They were not built for a protracted land engagement. On the seas, if their fleet was still as good as it had been some years ago I would be suggesting that we sue for peace with them. However, it is not, and therefore, I suggest we keep going, we keep pushing and then just when they think we’re going to take the Hague, they will sue for peace, and that will be another foe gone.” King James replied.

Charles listened and he thought about, he pondered over it all, but still he felt uneasy. “And you think the French will agree to that?” He remembered just how belligerent the King of France had sounded after their first engagement with the Dutch.

“He will have no choice.” The King of Britannia said.

That took Charles to yet another point he had been struggling with. “How are you so calm and capable of dealing with France? Aren’t they supposed to be your enemy?”

The King laughed. “Indeed, they are. And yet for now they serve a purpose. We both share a common purpose in ensuring that the Prince of Modena becomes Grand Duke of Tuscany, and as such we’re both trying to get that to happen as quickly as possible. That doesn’t mean I don’t find him frustrating as anything else.”

Charles nodded. He considered whether or not to mention the thing that his brother had offered, and decided against it. “How long do you imagine this alliance of ours can last?”

“Well, your son is married to my daughter, and your daughter is married to his son. So, perhaps for a little while yet. Until he does as all Frenchmen do and over extends himself.” The King said.

“At which point this war is done for.” Charles surmised.

 

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Chapter 231: Imperial War



March, 1731​

Joseph rubbed at his eyes, they’d been here for hours, and still there was no apparent solution to the issues at hand. Instead of reaching a conclusion and moving onward, they were stuck bickering over the minutiae of details for the war effort. And if he were being honest with himself, Joseph was bored, terribly, terribly bored. He listened as Salm his chief war minister spoke.

“The fighting at the Rhine has reached a stalemate, the Elector Palatine writes that he and His Royal Highness the King of the Romans have managed to tame the French advance commanded by the French King. However, the Elector writes that there is concern within the ranks. They fear that the Archduke of Flanders will advance southwards and come with Britannic guns.”

“So?” Metternich his main advisor asked. “Britannic guns are nothing compared to the cannons we have developed. And furthermore the King of the Romans has used them to great effect.”

“Yes, but there is a reason for his concern.” Salm said. “He believes that there is something else a foot here.” There was a moment’s pause and then Salm continued. “The French have been more focused on the Rhine then they have been on Italy, which given that King Louis issued a declaration stating his intention for the war was to see Modena sit the throne in Tuscany, is concerning.”

“You think that France and Naples are working together against their so called allies including us?” Joseph asked.

“Yes, Your Imperial Majesty.” Salm responded. “I also believe the Britannic King is not completely committed to his alliance with France.”

Joseph thought on this. He could see where Salm was coming from, he could also see where Metternich was coming from. If they were to win this war quickly before the Ottomans could recover and get involved, they needed to push the French out of the Rhine at once. However, if there was a chance of turning the tide he would go for it. “Our brother has written to us to say he is willing to consider our offer.” Joseph said in reference to the monetary offer he’d made to Charles in return for him leaving the French alliance. “However, we think we also need to make an offer to the King of Britannia, and therefore have been thinking this through.” He looked at Metternich who nodded.

“Britannia wants to have access to Italy, it wants to open up new markets for its shipping channels. Furthermore, Modena has ties to the royal family there through the King’s grandfather and as such we know that the Dowager Duchess of Modena has long been a supporter of Britannia and has advocated for closer ties as of late. All the queries I have looked into suggest that the French will eventually abandon Modena and return to an alliance with Naples.” Metternich.

Joseph nodded he had long ago concluded the same. “Naples remains bogged down facing war efforts from the native area of Modena, whilst our son Archduke Joseph continues beat the Savoyards and their French backers.” He was quite proud of his two sons; they’d done something that his father had never been able to do which was continuously keep the French on the backfoot for a long period of time.

Joseph Rákóczi his head of intelligence spoke then. “Your Imperial Majesty would be right to leave Naples behind. Metternich is right that France and Naples will soon return to one another’s side, there has been a movement to have reconciliation going on throughout the initial war. However, it will not happen immediately but rather later on. In that time I think it would be wise for us to continue on our current pathway, supporting Lorraine and Naples, but also opening channels for negotiations with Britannia.”

“Why?” Salm demanded. “If France and Naples are going to end up allying with one another anyway, why delay the process?”

“Because that way we can claim we have been wronged and show the British and our brother that we did not mean to go against them and the natural order can be restored. And if Modena ends up gaining Tuscany thanks to our son’s efforts, then all the better for it.” Joseph said.

Salm looked at him and asked softly. “Are you intending to order the Archduke to focus purely on Savoy then?”

“Yes.” Joseph said. “Let Naples be ruined in Tuscany.”

 

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Chapter 232: Spanish Concerns



July, 1731
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“Sire, I do not know whether we should continue fighting the Britannic forces at Cadiz or elsewhere on the coast.” The Marquis of Mérida said.

“Why?” Leopold demanded of the man. “Are you suggesting our forces are too weak to do so?” This entire war was turning out to be nothing more than an annoyance. It had completely frustrated his plans of reforming Spain and removing the power of the crowns of Aragon and Navarre.

“No, it is not that, Sire. It is simply that I have heard word that the Britannic King is in conversation with the Emperor, and that there might well be a change of alliances.” Mérida said.

Leopold looked at the man and then said. “We are not sure that sounds right. Why would they change sides during the middle of a war?” He did not like being allied with Naples, but he would stand through it if needs be.

“Sire, there has been some murmuring coming from both ends.” Francisco Godoy, son of his mother’s foreign minister, who was now his foreign minister who spoke. “It seems the Emperor has begun considering his options and indeed even offered a large sum of money to his brother Archduke Charles to consider changing sides.”

Leopold raised an eyebrow. He wondered why his sister had not mentioned that in her last letter. But then he remembered, they wer enemies so it made sense that she would not have. “How much?” He asked.

“Somewhere close to one million francs.” Godoy said.

“One million francs to change sides.” Leopold said repeating the number. “No doubt there is something else going on here.”

“Either way, I think we would be wise to consider whether or not the continued defence of Cadiz is necessary, or rather whether an arrangement could be reached.” Mérida said.

Leopold was intrigued. He was naturally against anything that might lessen the power of Spain, but he did not want to continue this war if there was a way to end it seamlessly. “Continue.”

“In return for declaring non-aggression against Britannia, we work with them to carve out French territory in the New World, and we also take control of the shipping routes from Africa.” Mérida said.

“Such a move would be quite profitable.” Leopold admitted. He had done his studies whilst waiting for his mother to die, and he knew where the future was. “Who is the Britannic commander of their siege of Cadiz?”

“Captain Hamilton, Sire.” Mérida said. “He has shown a penchant for negotiation and I believe that his King would look favourably on any such discussion.”

Leopold thought on that for a moment and then said. “Very well, you shall go and meet with him. We want clear discussions had and assurances given.”

“Sire.” Mérida said bowing his head.

Leopold then turned his attention back to Godoy and said. “Now, how does progress go for our son’s marriage?” He had been desperate to find a bride for his son and heir Leopold and for his daughter Maria, but as of late there had been a lack of suitable brides and grooms.

“Well, Sire, there is Anne Charlotte of Lorraine. That would make sense as a marriage should Lorraine be considered the proper candidate for Tuscany.” Godoy replied.

“No, there is no certainty that Lorraine will get Tuscany.” Leopold said. “Louise of Orleans was someone we had considered before the war, but since the war is now happening, perhaps not.”

“There is always a daughter of the King of Naples, Sire.” Godoy said.

“No, they are too young. Leopold needs a wife who he can marry immediately and start having children with.” Leopold said of his son.

“There is Elisabeth daughter of the Duke of Brunswick Wolfenbuttel, Sire. She is said to be quite beautiful, and her family was willing to see her aunt convert if it would allow her to marry into the Imperial dynasty.” Godoy suggested then.

“Perhaps, though if she needs to convert that will be a concern.” Leopold admitted.

“Then the choices are relatively limited, for the Prince of Asturias, Sire.” Godoy said.

“And what of for our daughter?” Leopold asked.

“There is Karl, Prince of Poland.” Godoy said.

“A possible marriage candidate, who else?” Leopold asked.

“The son of the King of the Romans.” Godoy said.

“Interesting, that would be a preferred marriage.” Leopold said.

“Shall I send the writing?” Godoy asked.

Leopold thought for a moment and then said. “Yes, do so.”

 

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Chapter 233: Ansbach Waltz



November, 1731
​

“A letter has come from the King,” Caroline said looking at the few members of the cabinet who weren’t either with the King or elsewhere. “It authorises this cabinet to do the governance of the realm without the need for resummoning Parliament, contrary to what the Whigs might say.” She had worked with the Lord Chancellor Lord Harcourt and several other judges to ensure the legality of this. The Earl of Devonshire had contested the King’s right to do this, and had lost. She felt mightily proud of herself.

“Excellent, Your Majesty.” Robert Walpole, Lord High Treasurer said. “That will greatly free up the treasury for the demands of normal government.”

“Yes.” Caroline said. “We had been considering some of the proposals that were put forward at the last meeting of cabinet, and we have had a solution for two of them.”

“Your Majesty?” Walpole asked. He, Wyndham, Wyn and Cornwallis were the only members of the Cabinet still in the country. Ormonde, her husband’s brother York, Berwick and Wade were all out fighting the war, whilst Somerset had retired to his estates due to an illness.

“We have decided that in order to spread morale around the Kingdom that we shall embark on a tour of the realm, a progress. We shall be accompanied by our ladies and by members of the court to the cities of note and even other places, villages, towns as it were. We must see the people to ensure that they know we are thinking of them.” Caroline said.

“A sensible decision, Your Majesty.” Wyndham said. He was a man who moved through different phases, Caroline knew, someone who one moment would be filled with boundless energy and another filled with melancholy.

“It would certainly put paid to what Townshend and Stanhope have been claiming.” Wyn said. He was a bit of a fool sometimes was Wyn, he was First Lord of Trade though and quite powerful.

“And what have they been saying?” Caroline asked though she was fully aware of what they said, Ruperta kept her informed.

“They have said that Your Majesty is deeply out of touch, that you do not leave Hampton Court even to venture to Whitehall, the centre of the city. That you make demands but do not move beyond understanding your basic needs.” Wyn said, he then almost spoke again as if realising he might have gone too far.

Caroline put a hand out and said. “You need not apologise, you are merely relaying what members of the King’s Kingdom are saying. They are entitled to their view. We know that we are not doing as they say. Instead we are willing to venture beyond them, even into their estates to see what is happening.”

“A grand gesture, Your Majesty.” Robert said. “But there is another matter that would need your attention before you left.”

“Ah yes,” Caroline said. “The Regulations and Means Bill.” A bill that Robert had drafted which was meant to ensure that the smuggling of goods from the colonies into the Kingdom did not continue, or that if it did there was a set way it would happen. the bill had been written after the unfortunate death of a little boy, who had drunk some sort of poison thinking it was wine.

“Yes, Your Majesty. With the confirmation that Parliament isn’t needed for this bill, all it requires is a signature and the procedures can begin.” Robert said.

“This will not affect trade at all?” Caroline asked. She knew that had been James’ chief concern, what with the war still raging on.

“No, Your Majesty.” Wyn said. “We have spoken with our allies and ensured that they know where and when things will be changed. They reassure us that supply lines and trading routes will not be affected.”

Caroline nodded, then looked at Harcourt. “And with the ruling recently decided, there will be no chance that Parliament can declare this bill unlawful?”

“None at all, Your Majesty.” Harcourt said.

“Then we shall sign it as regent.” Caroline said.

“Excellent, Your Majesty.” Robert replied producing the document then through a clap of his hands which brought a squire forward with the document. It was placed before her. Caroline read through it one more time, saw there were no discrepancies and then took a quill and signed the document. She then took the seal stamp from the squire and affixed it to the document, confirming it into law.

 

[VVD0D95]

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.

 

[VVD0D95]

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.

 

[VVD0D95]

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.

 

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Chapter 237: Voltaire’s Prince



March, 1733
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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.

 

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Chapter 238: A King’s Confidence



July, 1733

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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.

 

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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.

 

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Chapter 240: A Wedding For York



February, 1734
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A marriage was finally happening for him. He was only twenty-two and yet here he was in a church in the Palace of the Prince of Orange who was his uncle by marriage, getting married to Wilhemine of Prussia. A woman who was two years his senior and was quite beautiful. The marriage had been arranged by the King, his uncle, to bring some level of unity between themselves and Prussia. He suspected that the woman who was to be his wife would rather have married his dashing cousin George, not him, but here they were. If he were being honest, James would rather have remained unmarried and been able to pursue his martial endeavours. He had gotten the bug for fighting as a child and now his first true experience of war had won him over completely.

He looked at himself in the looking glass mirror and nodded to himself. He turned then and looked at his father. William, Duke of York and Albany was a man of average height, with a scar just above his right eye, something he’d gotten a few years ago. The man was someone James looked up to a lot. He nodded to his father and asked. “How do I look?”

“Like a man.” His father said with what appeared to be a hint of pride in his voice. “Come we must go now.” James nodded, and together they walked out of the room, down the steps and through the hallway, the servants opened the doors and they entered the church. The gathered crowd fell silent as James and his father walked to the front of the church and the altar. They then turned to face the front and waited.

A few moments passed and then the silence fell again, as the doors opened. James turned and saw his bride to be walking in on the arm of her brother Crown Prince of Prussia Frederick. The man was tall, with a slight eccentric look in his eye. The man walked with his sister before stopping at the entrance to the altar. “Who comes?” the priest asked.

“Wilhemine of Prussia, who claims her?” Frederick asked in German.

The ceremony was to be conducted in German, due to the fact that the bride to be did not yet speak English. That would need to change, James knew. “I, James Earl of Ulster claim her.”

Frederick nodded and helped his sister up to the altar. They then stood facing one another. The priest began talking. “We are gathered here today for the wedding of His Royal Highness James, Earl of Ulster and Her Royal Highness Princess Wilhemine of Prussia and Brandenburg. They are to be wed before the witnesses here today and before God. They have both got their vows to say.”

James looked at his bride to be, Wilhemine her name was, he reminded himself. She was not just another nameless and faceless woman being paraded before him. He took a breath and then said. “I, James Earl of Ulster do promise before God to care for you and to protect you, and to seek your counsel and to raise our family together from this day until my last.” He had deliberately said that last bit, as a way to give her an out should he die during the war. He didn’t want to inconvenience her after all.

Wilhemine replied. “I, Wilhemine of Prussia do swear with God as my witness to care for you, to serve you and to protect you, to raise our children with you, and to give counsel and to keep your counsel, from this day to our last.”

Her word choice made him raise his eyebrow slightly, but he quickly smoothed that away. Their hands were linked; one hand came away then as he took the ring from his father. The Priest spoke. “You have now sworn your vows and with the power invested within me by the Lord God, I do hereby proclaim you man and wife. You may now kiss.”

James took his wife’s extended hand and placed a small ring on her third finger, then leaned forward and tentatively pressed a kiss to her lips. When she replied, he found that he liked it. Of course propriety demanded that they break apart after a certain amount of time and so they did. The music began playing and James turned with his wife and together they walked down the church way, through the open doors and into the palace as a whole, they turned and then they entered the room that was to be theirs. James looked at his wife and said. “Well we had best get on with this, before they come.” Everything was being rushed, there was not going to be a feast until later, due to the ongoing war.

“Indeed.” His wife said.

“How do you like it?” James asked.

“Well, I don’t know, why don’t I try for you first?” Wilhemine said and with that she put her hand on his trousers and ohhhh.

He gasped. “That feels nice.” He said.

 

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Chapter 241: Philippine



May, 1734​

Philippine looked at the woman sat opposite her and for a moment felt jealousy flare through her. Anne, Princess of Wales and a Princess of Hanover was married to a man who loved her and only her, and she had children who she was devoted to. Philippine had a husband who she adored, and a child she loved fiercely. But her husband did not love just her. there was another person in this marriage of theirs, and this person was not a woman, but a man. It was this that had caused her so much pain and trouble, and it was this that had led her to seek out her sister by marriage.

“I don’t know what to do.” Philippine said, breaking the silence. “Every time I see George in the palace, I feel fear. It is horrible.” The George she referred to was George Beauclerk, brother of the Duke of St Albans and her husband’s well she wasn’t sure what he was to her husband.

“That isn’t right.” Anne said. “You are a Princess and a Royal Duchess, he is a fourth son of a bastard Duke. You should not feel fear when you see him. Have you spoken to James?”

Philippine laughed. “My husband would not listen to me if I mentioned this. He is enthralled by Beauclerk.” And it was true. She knew of the activities her husband and Beauclerk got up to, the drinking, the gambling and the fucking. But she didn’t know if he believed her or not.

“Well then he is a fool.” Anne replied. “I know Beauclerk, he is an idiot who is only surviving because his brother is friends with the Duke of Gloucester.”

“I don’t understand what my husband sees in him.” Philippine said, marvelling at how clear their conversations were. They’d both learned English as children she and Anne, but the Princess of Wales more often spoke German with their mother in law, and sometimes it felt alien to her.

“Well,” Anne said, and in that tone of voice, Philippine wondered whether her marriage would be made or broken. “I believe the Beauclerk man was the first friend the Duke of Cambridge made, other than his brothers. And from the way George describes it, Beauclerk took James under his wing, and from there it went. It is a connection that is hard to break.”

“So, you think I should not bother trying to?” Philippine asked. “You think I should simply accept it?” The thought depressed her, she cared for her husband, he was sweet, and kind, and she knew he cared for her in his own way. But Beauclerk was a dangerous influence on him.

“Oh no. I don’t think that at all. Indeed, I think you should act to have him removed.” Anne said something glimmering in her eye.

“But how?” Philippine asked. “I do not know how to get rid of him.” It was true everything she had tried had not work as of yet.

“You must make the Queen see that Beauclerk is not good for her son. James listens to his mother. As do all of Queen Caroline’s children. Make her see it and then James will see it.” Anne said.

“But how?” Philippine asked. “I do not think the Queen likes me.” And that was not her nervousness talking, she genuinely did not think the Queen liked her, after all Philippine knew she’d been offered as a compromise candidate instead of her cousin going to Britannia to marry Anne’s husband.

“You must have her see the effect that Beauclerk has on her son. Be it the drinking or the gambling.” Anne said, deliberately leaving out the sex, Philippine thought. “Indeed, there is a dinner that is to be had soon, Beauclerk is attending alongside a proposed match for him. Allow Beauclerk to act as he normally does, and though it may embarrass you then, it will prevent further embarrassment in the future.”

“And until then?” Philippine asked her sister by marriage. “What do I do until then?”

“Grit your teeth and smile. Do not let Beauclerk break you.” Anne said.

 

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Chapter 242: Courland’s Princess



September, 1734​

Charlotte Louise knew she would get in trouble if her tutor found her, but she was bored. The lessons on needlework and other such things did not interest her. Not the way the things that happened within the University did. She’d attended a ceremony with her brother, Leopold Peter, Duke of Courland at the university where a scientist from Russia had demonstrated the freezing of a substance called Mercury, at least that’s what she’d thought he’d called it. Though she could not remember the name precisely. She found it fascinating, which was why she was here, in the private laboratory that her brother had helped fund for the Russian scientist. She moved through the hallway and into the main room.

There she stopped when she nearly bumped into the Russian. “Sorry.” She said in German, then she remembered he might not speak German so she was about to speak Russian, when he replied.

“It is I who should apologise, Princess. Forgive me. I did not see you there.” The scientist said.

“What are you doing with that?” Charlotte asked, gesturing to the container he held in his hand.

“Do you want to come and see?” the scientist asked.

“Yes.” Charlotte said she moved further into the room, whilst the scientist walked back in as well. He placed the container on the table before them both, he then grabbed something else and opened the container and poured what looked like a black substance out onto the other thing he had brought.

“Watch this.” The scientist said. He brought a match and struck it producing flame, he then placed the match on the substance and said. “Step back slightly.”

Charlotte did as she was told and watched as the substance fizzed and burned and then popped mightily, causing the thing it was on to break. She looked at the scientist and asked. “What was that?”

The scientist smiled. “That is something that could be used to make explosions, either in war or during peace.”

Charlotte looked at the man then and asked. “Why would you want to make something like that?”

There was a long pause and then the man said. “You know about war, Princess?” Charlotte nodded, she’d heard stories from Leopold when he’d returned from serving in Italy. “Well, the substance that you just saw could if produced in mass quantities make it much shorter and less damaging.”

“How?” Charlotte Louise asked.

The scientist did not answer her question, instead he took a cloth and pushed the cracked cover away to the side, and produced another container which contained something that looked like a liquid. “Try this, Princess.” The scientist said handing her the container, with its lid off.

Charlotte smelt it. “It smells strange.” She said. It smelt like fire.

“Try it.” the scientist insisted and so she did. She took a sip and then started coughing madly.

The scientist said nothing but once she had stopped coughing she asked him. “What was that?”

“I call it the dragon’s drink.” The scientist responded. “It tastes like fire, does it not.”

Charlotte nodded, but before she could reply she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Charlotte, what are you doing here?”

Charlotte turned and found her mother looking at her. “I….”

“Are you disturbing Herr Lomonosov?” Mother asked.

Charlotte looked at her mother and then the scientist he said nothing, so she said. “I….I didn’t mean to.”

“Well come now, we must get going. Your brother is waiting for you.” Mother said, and with that she was dragged from the room and out into the gardens properly.