Francis II, the Hapsburg Eaglet

Gay civil marriage in 1863 Two Empires?

  • It will be laughed off as a joke

    Votes: 8 72.7%
  • Actually, that's not a bad idea....

    Votes: 3 27.3%

  • Total voters
    11
  • Poll closed .
Chapter One Hundred Three
Chapter One Hundred Three: The Great War - The Invasion of Panama

Archduke Karl's strategy for attacking Panama began unexpectedly: bombing by French and Colombian ships on the Pacific side of the canal. The British fleet in the Pacific was headed to reinforce India, so the governor of Panama had to send critical troops to meet that threat.

As Lord Cecil had guessed, except for minor adjustments the Imperial convoy headed for Havana continued on past Cuba for the fleet headed to engage the British at Colon, Panama. Most of the cargo ships continued on to land in Colombia, dropping troops in Austrian roadsters equipped to carry a lot of them.

The British had partially caught up to the Imperial air force, which meant that in situations like this, the defenders had the advantage of having a place to land, rearm, and refuel. But that advantage was about to vanish. Because the carriers that had stayed with the fleet weren't cargo carriers.

They were aircraft carriers.

Once again the British were surprised and dismayed by Imperial planes tearing through their defenses. Panama had gotten the four remaining dreadnoughts but they were taking heavy damage.

The forces of the Two Empires hammered at the British for 12 days, both sides incurring heavy losses. The Americans sent all the ships they had, but on passing Havana, their defensive fleet engaged and destroyed the American fleet. And for once, it was the British that didn't have the numerical advantage.

Ultimately word came first that the Austrian army had crossed the border, and then that Panama City had fallen and the ships in the Pacific were sailing freely to the battle in the Caribbean. At that point, the natives of Panama had had enough. Word came from Panama City, and the guns defending Colon started firing on the British meant to protect them.

The British fleet withdrew, as best they could, and Karl and Tessa landed in Colon to meet Jose and Miguel who had led the land attack. The Panamanians were dismayed to hear of the territory being transferred to Colombia, but Karl had been authorized to offer them compensation. For the time being, there was peace. But they still needed to end this war quickly, so more attention could be paid to peace here.

Most importantly, the Imperial force took control of the British communication hub. Karl sent word back to Havana, and sent a message to the British letting them know that they'd blow the locks if they were forced out.

But then a message came from Havana. Karl read it and crumpled.

"Papa, what is it?" Tessa asked.

Karl had to make a few goes before he could proceed. "Your poor Mama has passed."

"No!" Jose gasped. "She was in good health when we left!"

"It seemed she went in her sleep." Then, as with his father, Karl felt a sharp pain in his chest. At the worst possible moment.

Tessa, Jose, and Miguel went immediately from sorrow to alarm. "Sit, Papa," Tessa pleaded. "Jose, get the doctor from my ship."

"On it." Having to deal with their father's collapse didn't really help. But it gave them something to keep them occupied.
 
Chapter One Hundred Four
Chapter One Hundred and Four: The Great War - Russian Ruin

Russia was faltering.

Despite the support of the largest navy in the world, 70 years of losses in war left Russia with only a tiny window to receive food and munitions. The Dual Emperor wouldn't let Russia starve if it could be avoided. But food shipped through Sweden or Prussia took a growing percentage of loans Russia was taking out in America or Britain.

So while the soldiers were fed, they frequently had no weapon, or ammunition for one. There was no hope of roadsters like the Austrians had. And the virtually defenseless Russians were held in line only by the hard discipline provided by the British reinforcements.

And then the British left.

There had been rumors for weeks that the line in British India was being pushed back. That Thailand had been coerced into allowing Chinese and Two Empires forces to invade Burma from the less mountainous south. But the officers forbid such talk until one day the British soldiers received orders to withdraw to ships waiting on the coast, and then proceed to India.

Russian commanders managed to keep discipline for three days after the British departed Archangel. Then the army was in full mutiny.

It was suspected that both Sweden and Prussia might enter the war, though the fact that if one did, the other would join the opposing side had kept both neutral until now. As the revolution spread though, there was a chance either or both might take advantage.

So the Polish army took the risk of launching an offensive to capture territory between Moscow and the Baltics before it's rivals got any ideas. Austria wasn't going to join them, but hoped that Russian weakness could allow them to start to push forward towards Moscow again.

Russia had withdrawn its troops from the Persian border to reinforce the army on the western front. But in its death throes, the cost of food spiralling ever higher, the army finally had enough.

Nicholas II was arrested and forced to resign as Emperor and Commander in chief of the Russian army. The Empress, who many believed had gotten them into the war in the first place, was given the choice of leaving Russia and returning to England, or being shut up in a convent. Given that the young heir was going to be Tsar and leaving meant leaving behind him and her other children, the Empress chose the convent.

Russia surrendered the next day. There were days of celebration in the allied cities. But the good news was only temporary. The fleet headed to India could not be allowed to arrive.

Frankie ordered all available ships in the Atlantic to converge off the St. Peter and St. Paul islands. Even if it cost them every ship in the fleet, the British could not pass.
 
Chapter One Hundred Five
Chapter One Hundred Five: The Great War - Power Play

"What are you still doing here? You were supposed to go to Windsor."

Winston Churchill turned to face a concerned Clemmie coming towards him. He didn't blame her for her alarm. "I've gone and returned. Several times. They keep telling me everyone is too busy with the war to speak to me." Which Winston knew was untrue. Even the famed red boxes had stopped being delivered to the King. In all the ways that counted, the monarchy had been overthrown.

"Oh no!" She exclaimed. Clemmie paced nervously, thinking. "Take me with you. Maybe I can come up with an idea on the way."

"I can't take you now," Winston insisted. "Our fleet will be engaging the French in under 10 hours. It will be the largest battle of the war. Possibly the largest in the history of war. The Ministry will need me."

"You'll be there," Clemmie promised him. "Please. You know how important this is."

* * *

Karl knew he was dying. He didn't mind that much, knowing his beloved wife was waiting for him. Along with his parents and both his sisters.

But he remembered when his father died. And how he hung on until the war was won. And he was determined that he would do the same.

Frankie was in Brest now, with the entire Imperial council. Overseeing the great naval battle upcoming. Tessa commanding the allied fleet personally. They finally had speakers loud enough that he could speak to a whole room of people without being there, and there was little fear that what was going on in Brest wasn't unknown to the British.

"Jose," he called out. "Telephone the Emperor in Brest. I want to hear what's going on."

* * *

The guard at Windsor Castle looked down on Winston and Clemmie dubiously. "She's a new Lady of the Bedchamber for the Princess of Wales?"

"Of course," Winston insisted.

"And who are you?"

Winston blushed, remembering the ruse they'd come up with. "I'm her intended." Clemmie beamed. Winston wondered if she was just acting, or if she'd be amenable to really marrying him when this was all over.

"Intended. How lovely," came a voice from inside.

The guard stepped back, a mixture of alarm and instinctive deference. "Your Majesty."

Her Majesty, Queen Alexandra, came to the door and received surprised bows and curtsies from Winston and Clemmie. "Did my old ears hear correctly? You're getting married."

"Yes, your Majesty," Clemmie replied.

"Excellent. Poor May insists on having unmarried ladies, this is a great improvement."

The guard looked uncomfortable. "Ma'am the Ladies of the Bedchamber usually arrive in our broughams. She didn't."

The Queen made a sour face. "That's probably because everything is falling apart here," she accused. "Come with me. I'll take you to May."

The guard went to follow, but she looked at him firmly. "You need to stay at your post."

* * *

The room the Imperial council was in at Brest was a war room, covered in maps and troop deployments. And on the center table, a map of the whole world's oceans and the fleets therein.

Most of who were sailing for one point in the mid-Atlantic. For a fight that would determine the fate of the world.

"The Colombians are sending ships too," Karl reported. "It's going to be a hell of a fight."

"It will," Frankie agreed.

"Do we have a projection on their potential effectiveness?" Felix asked.

Frederick gave him a sympathetic look, but shook his head. "It's too close to call."

* * *

Alix led them down a corridor. "I heard you've been trying to get in for a few days now, Mr Churchill."

The PMO has been blocking us," Winston told her. "We're very concerned."

"As you should be. Bertie is very ill, and they're using it as an excuse to keep us out of the loop. So I decided on my own to watch for you and played along when I heard your scheme." She turned to them with a delighted smile. "Despite what I said, thanks to excellent Austrian doctors I have perfectly good ears."

Alix led them to the room where the Prince and Princess of Wales were sitting, with two guards, and entered without being announced. "Good news, Eddy. We have guests.

It must have been a code; the Prince threw himself on one guard, then the second. The second stayed down, but the first tried to get up again.

Winston went for him, but before that happened, Princess May grabbed a fireplace shovel and hit the guard on the head.

Eddy and Winston tied up the guards while May worried. "Dear, dear, dear, is he hurt badly? I wasn't sure how hard to hit him."

If anything, she might have hit him harder; he was already coming around. Clemmie offered her handkerchief to gag him. "We're here to rescue you," she added unnecessarily.

"Thank you," May replied.

Winston turned to Eddy. "Sir, the Home Fleet is making what the Minister of War considers a suicide run on the French fleet in only a few hours." The implication that it needed to be stopped was unsaid, as that too was unnecessary.

Prince Eddy had matured over the last few month. From being something of a dandy, he was now a serious protector of his nation. He'd even shaved that moustache Winston privately thought looked so ridiculous. "We have to get to my father."
 
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Chapter One Hundred Six
Chapter One Hundred Six: The Great War - Endgame

The day dawned bright over Calais, with no indication of the horror about to be unleashed.

Archduke Wil oversaw the missile platform with a practiced eye, even though the technology was making it's debut today. He looked out across the water. Trying not remember how his Grandmother used to bring them Scottish toffee when she came home from visiting her sister. "I'm sorry we have to have you do this."

Nicola Tesla continued his calculations, not seeming alarmed by what he was doing, though in his heart he was still a pacifist. "The Archduchess Marisol was an amazing woman. She didn't deserve what happened to her."

So Tesla had heard the rumors too. "She was an old woman. It may not have been British poison."

But Tesla was unconvinced. "Perhaps."

Wil didn't push. His grandfather had once said to be honest as much as possible, but not to fight too hard against a lie that was helping you. "Let me know when we're ready to direct the V1s at their targets."

"London and Dover are ready. I'll have Edinburgh ready in a few moments."

* * *

Everyone was out of breath at the pace Alix set for them. They entered the King's room, and Winston recognized immediately that though Bertie was ill, he was nowhere near bad enough to warrant having his dispatches cancelled.

Eddy hurried to his father. "Papa, the war is going very badly. We need to act now."

Bertie nodded grimly. "You can't wait for me. Alix, dearest, the document."

Alix removed a file from his desk drawer. "This will give you all the authority you need to stop this."

"What do I do?" Eddy asked. "What can I do?"

Winston considered that. "The King's powers have lessened considerably since the Queen was crowned. I'm not sure what's left."

It was May who provided the answer. "Establish a university, pardon all offenders, declare a state of emergency, make anyone a peer, dismiss the government-"

"I wish it were that simple," Eddy said.

"The army and navy will listen if you dismiss the Prime Minister," the King insisted.

"That's good. We might need armed protection once this hits," Clemmie warned.

"Hurry, Eddy," Alix exclaimed. "There's no time."

* * *

Fritz, Crown Prince of the Two Empires, watched the missile platform being constructed at the edge of occupied Karachi. "How much longer?" Iranian Prince Parveneh asked him.

"30 minutes," Fritz answered. "We'll have coordinates for the British army, Delhi, and Bombay by then."

"I pray this works," Parveneh declared.

"Me too." Fritz tried not to imagine what Aunt Victoria would have said if she was alive.

* * *

Tessa, Archduchess and Empress of Brazil, stood on the bridge of the Dual Imperial flagship, like so many of its predecessors named Charlemagne. So new that several corridors still smelled like fresh paint. One of the British big guns salvaged and installed on her bow.

And her communications officer telling her that they were finished waiting. "The cruiser Jeanne d'Arc has spotted enemy ships closing."

Tessa remembered dancing with the British ambassador at her wedding. But there could be no faltering now. "It's time then." She asked for something made in Cuba, and now she brought it out of her bag. Turning to the Admiral running the battle, she ordered, "Move into attack position. And have someone raise this."

It hadn't been seen in generations. But the Admiral recognized it at once. "The Oriflamme," he breathed.

* * *

Frederick turned to his brother, the Emperor. "We've received a call from Karl. They're picking up radio traffic from the fleet."

"How's it going?"

"They're about to engage the British fleet." Everyone in the room exchanged tense looks.

"Do we send the order to launch missiles?" Felix asked.

Frankie wanted to. Wanted to shock the British into surrender before this battle began. But he shook his head. "Fritz won't be set up yet. Stand by."

The communications officer, installed right in the room, suddenly spoke up. "Your Majesty! Sirs! We're getting a message relayed from London. It's the Prince of Wales."

* * *

The Charlemagne heard the news from their opponents first, through the wireless. "Repeat, the British fleet is standing down. Do not fire."

Apparently, the Prince of Wales had dismissed the government and named Sir Winston Churchill the new Prime Minister. They issued a joint statement requesting an armistice with the Two Empires. Nothing since then, but the ships opposite them were non-combatant.

Tessa leaned down to the communications officer. "Send a coded message to my father, asking for confirmation."

It was a tense few moments waiting to hear from the Archduke Karl. "If it's a trick, why would they stop just outsìde their own weapons range?" the Admiral wondered aloud.

It didn't make much sense. So could the Royal Family really have brought down the government working a conspiracy to drive Britain out of her alliance with the Two Empires? "Please let this be over," Tessa breathed.

"Ma'am, another message from Havana. I can't read the code."

Tessa took the paper. Presumably the family code, to make certain she knew it was genuine. "It's over," she gasped. And then louder. "The Emperor has accepted Britain's request for armistice. We're finished here."

There was a loud cheer from the Bridge crew. But the Admiral leaned in to whisper to Tessa. "Ma'am. With apologies, what are we going to do about the Americans?" Because no, this wasn't quite finished.

Tessa smiled slyly as she considered it. "Well, the Oriflamme is unfurled. And we do have the second largest fleet ever assembled armed and ready to go."

"All true, ma'am."

"Alert the other ships," she ordered. "Set course for Washington."
 
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Finally the Americans will get their overdue comeuppance. Those war hungry bastards in Washington will finally know how it feels when war comes to their own backyard and that there are dire consequences for an opportunistic war against a great power. Second Fire of Washington here we come!!!

Also might want to change Orniflamme to Oriflamme.
 
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Chapter One Hundred Seven
Chapter One Hundred Seven: Kismet

Tessa stood on the deck of the Charlemagne, watching Washington burn. Without a navy or air force, America had been virtually defenceless. The Imperial assumption had been that knowing that, the Americans would surrender. But they hadn't.

The French fleet was sedately cruising the American coast, laying waste to military and government installations. And Tessa waited, wondering just how long she could ethically hammer at a people that couldn't fight back.

"Ma'am," called out an officer with binoculars. "There's a ship approaching."

Tessa sighed in relief. "Let me see."

The boat was definitely flying a white flag, so she let it approach. But the man brought on board was not what she expected. Strong and defiant, he looked more like he'd rather keep fighting than plead for surrender.

But he recognized her, and he did bow courteously. "Your Majesty. Thank you for receiving me. The President has shot himself, the Vice-President has fled, and we've had no other way to contact you."

Tessa felt a little guilty about that, but there was nothing for it. "I need your surrender, Mister...." she trailed off, waiting for an introduction.

"Teddy Roosevelt, ma'am. I've been authorized by what's left of our government to surrender to your forces. No conditions except a request for you to end your attack."

"Of course. Admiral, contact the rest of the fleet and tell them to cease fire. And send a message to our armies in the west to halt their advance."

"Yes, your Majesty."

Tessa turned back to the waiting American. "You're a brave man, Mr. Roosevelt. How would you like to work with us to rebuild this nation?"

* * *

5 September 1903

Several months later, the Great Powers met in Paris to negotiate a permanent end to the Great War. The delay was necessary for the British army to put down the last remnants of the anti-Two Empires conspiracy. By then, the American and Japanese treaties had been worked out.

Japan had little land to lose, but they had the fullest coffers of any government at present, so their reparations were mostly cash. Overseen by the Imperial Revenue Service to be sure it was being paid at the maximum rate not able to hobble the Japanese economy.

The Japanese navy lost several of its best ships in the treaty, replacing ships from both China and Indochina lost in the defense of East Asia. China had considered making Japan a vassal state again, but Frankie reminded the Chinese Emperor how they reacted when China fell under British influence, and the prospect was shelved.

America's government had collapsed, and in it's reconstruction they agreed to a new constitution based on the Imperial constitution. This gave Frankie the chance to make restitution for the annexation of Belgium by France. Young Albert of the Belgians exchanged that title for the Kingdom of America and seemed happy with it. Teddy Roosevelt became Prime Minister.

There were territorial losses, of course. America permanently ceded influence over the Indian Federation and three southwestern states. Mexico hoped to get Texas back, but had to be content with gains in Central America. Because in a surprise move, the Two Empires chose to protect their helium reserves by directly annexing Texas, Oklahoma, and Kansas to Austria and annexing Louisiana to France.

America's coffers were even poorer than those in Vienna, and they had serious damage to rebuild. So Americans paid no reparations, though Imperial businesses recovered the capital they spent over the war with lucrative contracts for the reconstruction of America.

Most important was the clause in the treaty where America promised to work with the Two Empires to maintain peace and renounced their Monroe Doctrine and Manifest Destiny. Frankie had had all he was going to take of American attitudes towards him flip flopping ever election and decided this was the best way to put an end to it.

In the end, it proved to be moderately successful.
 
Chapter One Hundred Eight
Chapter One Hundred Eight: Russian Reprisals

There was once a time when the Empire of Russia was considered as 'part of the club'. Although more and more of it's territory lay in Asia, people thought of Russia as a Western, modern nation.

A century of war had changed opinion though.

Britain had been led astray by evil conspirators, and America had long been too big for its britches. But as people tried to understand the relentless animosity Russia had for the Two Empires, they didn't think about Russian losses. Or their need for an ice-free port. They considered the possibility that they were wrong about Russia being civilized. Maybe they were just bandits in nicer clothes.

The Swedish and Prussian ambassadors saw Frankie separately before the Peace Conference. They almost never agreed, but this time they might have been working together for how closely their words matched. "Perhaps it might be better to put Russia out of our misery."

Russia hadn't collapsed, and it didn't appear it was going to. So Frankie didn't destroy Russia. But it was, to use the king of Poland's expression, 'fleeced'.

Poland had participated in the war as a loyal vassal of the Two Empires, and neither wanted nor expected to receive land. But their bills were paid, and they got their choice of plunder from the Imperial Russian jewels and artwork, some of which were originally Polish.

Central Asia was split between Persia and China, and Russia was to acknowledge Chinese control over Mongolia. The Russian navy, the reason for the conflict in the first place, had mostly been destroyed but the remainder would serve as a stop gap as the Two Empires rebuilt their forces.

The general consensus was that if those in Russia responsible for their disastrous performance were still in power, they'd never sign the treaty for fear of their lives. As it was, there were those who doubted that the Russians would sign the treaty, for the same reason. And the following year did bring many assassinations.

But the treaty was sign, as it was. The only change Russia got was to the preamble. Doing away with the Russian Empire, which was going back to its old form as the Tsardom of Russia.

The Prime Minister of the Tsardom of Russia, currently acting as Regent for the child Tsar Nicholas III, left Paris right after he signed the treaty. He made it most of the way home before he was shot.
 
Chapter One Hundred Nine
Chapter One Hundred Nine: The Peace of Paris

The British arrived at the Peace Conference a beaten and demoralized people. Bad enough that the World's largest navy had been defeated on several fronts. But the fact that their democratically elected government had been an evil cabal out to destroy the monarchy, and had duped them into rejecting the Two Empires, really stung.

Edward VII and Churchill went to Paris in the hopes of hanging on to the Dominions and India, but not much else. Their side was the one that had lost. In their pessimism however, they were pleasantly surprised.

The Two Empires ended up paying off Colombia with most of Britain's Caribbean islands, including Jamaica, to get back South Panama. Panama was now it's own territory in the American Federation, and resistance to Imperial oversight was waning. Mexico annexed the rest of Central America, and was thus not too unhappy with not getting any territory from the new Kingdom of America.

Britain was to withdraw from Hawaii and the Imperial Islands in the Pacific of course, but they got to keep India and Burma. Influence over Afghanistan however, was transferred to Persia. And after considerable thought, Frankie decided to reward Thai support during the war by making Malaya a Thai vassal state. Except for the port of Singapore, which the Two Empires kept.

China of course, was to regain full sovereignty over all ports and commerce dominated by foreign powers. Only the Two Empires would still retain lucrative trade deals, though they had already renounced any political influence they might have had.

Britain got to keep most of her African territories. Sudan not surprisingly was annexed by the Egyptian Empire, which was already squabbling with Persia over the disposition of British protectorates in the Persian Gulf. And the Two Empires took a few colonies on the west coast (as well as American Liberia). But the British got to keep the bulk of their colonies, and South Africa and the other Dominions, most of whom had never wanted the war to begin with, were unmolested.

Frankie met with Edward and Winston after the signing. "I have something else for you. I didn't want your government to feel it was forced into this, so I didn't include it in the treaty."

The British looked at each other soberly. "We have behaved abominably towards you," Churchill admitted. "I am ready to provide any additional restitution you require."

But Frankie smiled. "It's nothing like that. Gentlemen, our nations have been friends since the French Revolution. It was the cornerstone of policy for both my father and great grandfather. I'm an old man, and before I return to them, I want that back."

Frankie pulled out his new agreement. "This is somewhat similar to the Holy Alliance last century. I wouldn't call it holy, but the main goal is to preserve peace. And it declares that no matter what happens, Britain and Imperial friendship is of paramount importance."

The British looked at it with approval, and Edward nodded. "I will see to it that this is approved."

With that hurdle passed, Frankie ordered a call to Havana. Karl was still in no shape to travel and was waiting to hear the results of the Conference. He did the time calculation in his head, and guessed Karl would be up by now.

The Emperor's instincts were on alert from the moment a servant picked up. Something was wrong at the Archducal villa. When Jose picked up, Frankie confirmed his suspicion. Jose had been crying, just as the servant had. "He's gone, isn't he?"
 
Chapter One Hundred Ten
One Hundred Ten: Requiem

As a result of the war, Marisol had had a rushed, poorly attended funeral. So it was inevitable that Karl's funeral had been a chance to say goodbye to both of them. The harbour at Havana was filled with ships from every nation on Earth, many of the representative having never been there before.

It may have been a little awkward for the British to attend a funeral in the shadows of the ruins of the great fortress. Especially since the stress of that attack had played a part in the deaths of the Archducal couple. But they came, and were entirely silent about their own discomfort.

It was typical of Imperial funerals for the Pope, as the officiant, to speak on the life of the deceased. And he did speak, of the great love and bond that Karl and Marisol had for each other. Which made Frankie think of his own marriage, and the things he'd rather have done better with Sophie.

Frankie was due to speak as well. "I remember the first funeral Karl and I went to. Our great grandfather, Francis Doppelkaiser. I believe I'm the only one left from those days.

"But as I look out at the people gathered here, I'm reminded that we are all here to pass on the world we received to those who will follow us. Karl spent his whole life in my shadow, but he never stopped working towards that goal.

"And I think it's fair to say that he succeeded. The world he fought to protect is at peace once more. And that will be Karl's legacy. And I can say that I am so very proud of it, and him."

After the internment, Frankie spoke with Frederick and Felix. They were retiring to Corsica, now that Cousin Louis was ready to be Prince-President of France. And it seemed as though they thought he should be scaling back as well.

"Look at how good Fritz is," Frederick declared, gesturing to the Crown Prince who was speaking to the new Chancellor, whose name Frankie was still blanking on occasionally.

"I'm not doubting that he could do the job," Frankie insisted. "But the last thing the Two Empires need right now is for me to abdicate my responsibilities."

"You don't need to abdicate," Felix reminded him. "Just give Fritz more duties. Really, with the communication lines we have, you could run the Empires from here."

A thought occurred to Frankie. "You don't say."

* * *

The Dual Empress was speaking to Jose and Miguel when Frankie met up with her. "Frankie," Sophie called out. "I've convinced the boys to stay a few days before they have to go back to Panama."

With the destruction of the fortress here, and the Panama Canal now under Imperial control, the hub of the Caribbean had shifted. And given what had happened here, it wasn't surprising that the couple would want to move on as well. "I hope it won't bring back too many unpleasant memories."

Jose shook his head. "It's been fine. I think it's more like what you said about moving on. The villa here is just not home. Time to find someplace that is."

The boys continued on through the guests, and it was Sophie that brought up what Frankie was thinking. "We'll need a new governor here."

"I was thinking of one applicant in particular. I know his wife's joints would appreciate the warm weather here."

"I can appreciate that," Sophie noted. "Who is it?"

"Me," Frankie smiled.

Sophie was startled. "Seriously?"

"It's mostly ceremonial now," Frankie commented. "Fritz can handle most things, and if he really needs us, we're only a telephone call away."

"My goodness. ...Can I give it some thought? I didn't wake up this morning thinking you'd want to pull our thrones out here into the tropics."

"Of course. Take all the time you need."

- - -

Well, the story's almost over. Just the epilogue left. I was considering making a sequel featuring May and Eddy, Winston and Clemmie but I'm not sure what I'd do with them. This is feeling like a natural end to the story, but if anyone has any thought where Britain can go from here I'd love to hear them.
 
Epilogue
Epilogue: Feliz Navidad

The Empress at Large, Sophie of France and Austria, celebrated Christmas morning on a beach at the Imperial villa outside Havana. It had been a difficult sell in certain quarters, but it was definitely a choice her joints agreed with.

Frankie approached the table with two champagne flutes. Like her, this tropical semi-retirement had done wonders for his health and he seemed a man ten years younger than he was. "Try this."

Sophie laughed, familiar with champagne. "Champagne for breakfast?"

"Champagne with pineapple juice. It's delicious. And it is Christmas after all."

Sophie gave in. "It is at that. And it's delicious."

"So what is our plan for today?"

"After breakfast, you have your radio broadcast to the Empires and I need to oversee the food for tonight's gala. Jose and Miguel will be here by lunch, and then we telephone the family."

"A full day," Frankie commented. "That gives us enough time to change and rest before the guests start arriving at 4. And then we dance until dawn."

Sophie laughed again. "We will see. You know, I wasn't sure when you first proposed this, why you wanted to move here. But it's been a great success."

"For both of us I hope." Frankie gave her a warm smile. "It started when the Pope spoke about Karl and Marisol's relationship. I know I've never been as demonstrative as they were. Perhaps Karl was right when he said I should marry my books-"

"You know I have never felt I had a poor husband," Sophie interrupted firmly.

"I'm glad of it. But talking about them, and the next generation taking over, I started to think about what I wanted to do for the rest of our marriage. And this is what I want to do."

Sophie smiled. So do I. Merry Christmas, your Majesty."

"Merry Christmas, your Majesty. Or as they say here, Feliz Navidad."

They clinked glasses.
 
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