The Passionate Princess

by Barbara Cartland

She then began to play of the terror, misery and sense of revolt that she felt at what was waiting for her.

  *

  It was not until the evening that Thea received a message from her father.

  His Chief aide-de-camp was a middle-aged man who had served the King faithfully for many years.

  He knocked on the door politely and then came into her sitting room to say,

  “His Majesty has asked me to inform Your Royal Highness that he wishes to see you in his study.”

  Thea had been reading one of her favourite magazines and thought almost clairvoyantly that this was the moment of Doom.

  She had prayed that her father would delay what he had to say to her until Georgi had returned from Paris and she had clung to her brother’s assurance that he would ask him to do so.

  She was aware now that, because the King was always impatient, he wanted to get on with the whole arrangement.

  ‘Before I know where I am,’ she reflected, ‘I shall be up the aisle and married.’

  She wondered if she could tell the aide-de-camp that she was too tired and too unwell to obey her father’s summons.

  Then she knew that, if she did so, she would be unable to ride tomorrow.

  Mercury would be waiting for her as usual and she thought wildly that only her horse would understand exactly what she was feeling.

  “I also have to report to Your Royal Highness,” the aide-de- camp was saying, “that Prince Georgi changed his plans at the last moment and has decided to leave for Paris this evening.”

  “You mean – he has already – gone?” Thea asked in astonishment.

  “His Royal Highness only just had time to catch the Express. And he asked me to say ‘goodbye’ to you, Your Royal Highness.”

  Without being told Thea knew exactly what had happened.

  Georgi had asked their father to do nothing about her marriage until he returned.

  The King had refused and her brother had therefore run away from the problem.

  She knew that he heartily disliked any sort of scene, especially recriminations, and so he had taken the easy way out and she did not blame him.

  She only realised that he had accepted the inevitable and he knew that there was nothing he could do about it.

  Slowly she put down her magazine and rose wearily to her feet.

  “Please tell His Majesty that I will be with him ‒ in a few minutes.”

  The aide-de-camp bowed and left the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

  Thea then walked to where hanging on the wall was a mirror in an elaborate gold frame surmounted by cupids.

  She stared at her reflection.

  Then she took a deep breath and asked aloud,

  “Mirror, mirror, tell me true. Help me, tell me what to do!”

  She almost expected the mirror to reply to her, but instead there was only the reflection of herself.

  Her small oval face, her straight little nose and her large green eyes and the last light of the setting sun was now turning her hair to flaming gold.

  Then, with a sound that was half a groan and half a sob, she turned from the mirror and went out of the room and down the stairs.

  Her father’s study was a extremely comfortable room. Unlike the gilt-foamed, tapestry-covered furniture in the main part of The Palace, the King had big and comfortable leather armchairs.

  The sofa was as soft as a feather bed and there was a large flat-topped desk that was easy to write on.

  The pictures around the room were all of his ancestors and their frames were carved and gilded and each one was surmounted by a gold crown. There were also, because the King appreciated them, some fine Chinese vases and in each there was an arrangement of purple and white lilac together with syringa.

  The whole room, Thea had frequently thought, expressed the many different facets of her father’s character.

  At the same time she was aware that it was impossible not to look at the enormous Royal Insignia carved and painted in gold and brilliant colours that hung over the mantelpiece.

  Sitting at his desk the King would look directly at the Royal Insignia.

  She thought that they would remind him every day, every hour and every minute of his responsibilities towards his Kingdom and its people.

  As Thea entered the study, her father was standing with his back to the mantelpiece.

  “Good evening, my dear,” he greeted her. “I have been very busy all day, but now I want to talk to you.”

  Thea kissed his cheek and that sat down on the sofa.

  She clasped her hands tightly together and was fully aware of what was coming.

  “You are now eighteen,” the King began, “and we have to think about your future.”

  “I am very happy as I am, Papa.”

  “I am very happy to have you with me here at the Palace,” the King said. “At the same time your mother was only eighteen when we were married.”

  Thea was just about to say,

  ‘To a man only five years older than herself.’

  Then she realised that to do so would be to betray Georgi’s confidence and her father would find out that he had already told her about King Otho.

  “I have been thinking who would best help our beloved country,” the King went on, “if they had a close alliance with us.”

  He paused as if he expected Thea to speak and, when she did not do so, he continued,

  “As it happens, I had a letter this morning from King Otho, asking if he might come here in four days’ time.”

  Thea drew in her breath and clenched her fingers until the knuckles were white.

  “I have the idea,” her father continued, “that he had almost clairvoyantly realised what I have been thinking.”

  “What – is that – Papa?” Thea asked him hesitantly.

  Her voice did not sound in any way like her own.

  “An alliance between Otho’s country and ours would be very advantageous for us.”

  He glanced at his daughter before he added,

  “I have therefore sent a reply to tell him how warmly he will be welcomed here and how much we are looking forward to his visit.”

  “Are you – saying, Papa,” Thea then asked, “that you think – King Otho would – make me a – suitable husband?”

  “You would be Queen of a large and prosperous country and in that position I am sure that you could help Kostas in a thousand different ways.”

  Thea felt as if her legs had given way and she would not be able to walk.

  “I-I am sorry, Papa – but I – cannot marry King Otho.”

  “What did you say?” her father asked.

  “H-he is old – much too old for me! And – if I do marry – I wish to be – in love.”

  “What do you mean – if you do marry?” the King asked. “Of course you have to marry! It is your duty to do so.”

  “But not to a man who is – old enough to be – my father.”

  “Old? What has age to do with it?” the King demanded. “He is a King and you will be a Queen!”

  His voice was sharp, but Thea replied,

  “I want to – love the man I – marry.”

  “Love? Love?” the King said. “That is all young women think about. Well, in my mind there is every reason to believe that you will grow to love your husband.”

  “How can you be – sure of – that?” Thea asked him.

  With an effort the King then tried to be conciliatory.

  “You are very young, my dear, and you must therefore allow me to know what is best for you. I feel sure that Otho will always be kind and treat you with propriety.”

  “But – I want to be – loved!” Thea persisted.

  “Love will come after marriage,” the King answered firmly.

  “How can you be sure?” Thea asserted. “If I don’t find him attractive now, why should he be any different just because I have his ring on my finger?”

  Her father hesitated and she sensed that he was finding it difficul
t to explain in words what he was thinking.

  There was quite a long silence.

  Then Thea rose to her feet.

  “I am really sorry, Papa, but I will not – marry King Otho and – it would – then be a – mistake to let him come – here under false pretences.”

  The King glared at her.

  “Are you teaching me how to behave?” he shouted angrily. “Good God, most girls would be thrilled at the prospect of becoming a reigning Queen!”

  “Not with a man as old as King Otho,” Thea retorted.

  “What does it matter is he is old or young?”

  “It matters to me! I have to marry him – not you!”

  The King then lost his temper.

  “How dare you speak to me like that?” he roared. “You will do as you are told and I will have no nonsense about it!”

  “What will you do?” Thea asked. “Drag me to the Altar unconscious? I swear I will not say the words that will make me ‒ his wife!”

  Her father now went crimson in the face.

  “Dammit!” he screamed. “You are enough to try the patience of a Saint! You will do as you are told, Thea, and that is my last word on the subject.”

  He looked at his daughter as he spoke and realised that she was still defying him.

  She was small and fragile-looking, yet at the moment there was a strange resemblance between them.

  They were both completely determined to have their own way.

  “You will marry the King!”

  The words from her father’s lips seemed to echo round the room.

  “I will not – Papa! I completely and absolutely – refuse!”

  “Very well,” the King said, “unless you change your mind within the next twenty-four hours, you will be confined to your room and will have nothing to eat but bread and water.”

  Thea glared back at him as he went on,

  “You will not be allowed to ride and your horse, Mercury, will be sold at the Horse Fair that takes place in two days time!”

  The blood seemed to drain away from Thea’s face.

  “Did you – say,” she asked, “that you would – sell Mercury?”

  “I am a man of my word,” the King stipulated. “Unless you consent to marry King Otho, Mercury will be sold.”

  For a moment Thea just stood there staring at him.

  Then with a cry of a small animal caught in a trap, she turned and ran from the room.

  *

  Thea ran up the stairs and went into her bedroom. She closed the door and locked it.

  Then, as she threw herself down on the bed, she burst into a flood of tears.

  She cried helplessly, knowing that her father had won.

  She loved Mercury, who had been hers ever since he was born and she loved him in many ways more than she loved her own family.

  He was a part of her, he belonged to her and it was just impossible, she thought, to live without him.

  For a moment she actively hated her father. He was using the one weapon that he knew would render her powerless to defy him.

  She felt helplessly that she would marry the Devil himself rather than think of Mercury belonging to anyone else.

  He might be ill-treated, starved or beaten and she would be unable to prevent it.

  He would not understand, he would not know what had happened to him.

  ‘I shall have to marry King Otho!’

  She felt as if a demon was bending over her and he was forcing her to humiliate herself by accepting her father’s decision.

  She lay crying on her bed until there was a knock on the door.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “It’s Martha, Your Royal Highness, it’s time you dressed for dinner.”

  “I am too ill to go down to dinner,” Thea replied.

  “Very well, Your Royal Highness, I’ll tell them to send your dinner upstairs.”

  Martha then went away.

  It was a question, Thea now thought, of whether she was given what everybody else was having for dinner or bread and water.

  She now knew that her father would be well aware that he had won the battle. He had conquered her and she was obliged, like a slave at his chariot wheel, to obey his orders.

  She would marry King Otho and it would be a grand Wedding and everyone in the City would throng the streets, cheering, waving and showering her with rose petals.

  Waiting in the Cathedral for her would be an old white-haired man.

  He had buried his first wife and now was marrying again, Thea was sure, simply because he wanted an heir.

  It was then that she felt herself shudder. It was with a repugnance that was greater than anything that she had felt before.

  She had no idea what happened when a man and a woman made love to each other, but she knew, of course, that when people were married they slept in the same bed.

  King Otho would be sleeping beside her and so he would touch her with his old blue-veined hands.

  She supposed that he would kiss her and she felt herself scream at the thought of his thin lips touching hers.

  “I cannot bear it – I cannot!”

  The tears were running down her cheeks.

  Then she was thinking again of Mercury and seeing in her mind how well he had taken the jumps this morning.

  And how he always nuzzled against her when she went to the stables and how he would come when she called him.

  Mercury! Mercury? How could she bear to lose him?

  She walked to the window and stood gazing out over the garden

  Now because it was still spring, the sun had already sunk and the sky was crimson and gold on the horizon.

  The last rays of the sun lingered on the snow on the mountain peaks and high overhead the first evening star twinkled in the sky.

  It was so beautiful and inspiring that, despite her misery and distress, Thea felt that it lifted her heart.

  On earth life might well be horrifying, degrading and revolting, but high above her was Heaven if only she could reach it.

  She thought of how Apollo had driven his magnificent horses across the sky and he had brought light to those who were in darkness.

  It was the light that lifted not only their hearts but also their minds.

  She pictured herself riding in the same way across the sky on Mercury and then, as she visualised herself galloping into the crimson and gold of the sun as it sank lower and lower, she had an idea.

  An idea so stupendous and so revolutionary that she could for a moment hardly grasp it.

  With a cry she flung up her arms and she was reaching out to the stars overhead.

  They had given her an answer and had brought a shining light to her mind.

  “I will do it!” she cried aloud. “That is what I will do!”

  Chapter Two

  Thea lay on her bed in the darkness thinking out her plan in detail.

  She would take Mercury and disappear until after King Otho had departed.

  Her father would be furiously angry, but it would take him considerable time to set up another State Visit.

  She was well aware that a visiting Monarch from another country expected an enormous amount of kow-towing, special banquets and Receptions from his hosts.

  She had always found that all this pompous and stiff protocol was incredibly dull and such occasions, however, always delighted her father and gave him a chance to show off what Kostas could really do.

  Now, as soon as dinner was finished, he would go to his study to make his plans first for the Reception for King Otho at the frontier and then there would be a series of what Thea thought of as ‘charades’ to impress him.

  The Army, such as it was, would be on full dress Parade and canons would be fired as a respectful Royal Salute.

  Everything would be leading up to the moment when her engagement would be formally announced.

  ‘I will – not do – it! I will – not!’ she murmured to herself hundreds of times to give herself courage.

&
nbsp; She knew only too well that she was being outrageous and revolutionary and her father would be totally appalled by her behaviour and disobedience to him and his orders.

  It would, however, she thought, give him a sharp and salutary jolt to realise that she had a will of her own.

  Equally she felt helpless for the moment. If she rode away, where could she go and, what was more important than anything else, she had no money.

  She thought about this for some time and then jumped out of her bed and went to the window to look up at the stars.

  “You have to help me,” she said, “you must guide me!”

  She remembered how a star had guided the Three Wise Men on their way to Bethlehem and that was what she needed now.

  Almost as if in answer to her prayers, she recalled something that she had forgotten.

  She had no ready money because she never needed it. If she went out shopping, the bills were always sent on to The Palace.

  If she wished to purchase something in the market place or to give a few small coins to a beggar, it was always supplied by her Lady-in-Waiting, who invariably accompanied her on such occasions.

  It had never struck her until now that she was penniless and it was an uncomfortable and disorienting feeling.

  Then she was certain that it was the stars that suddenly reminded her that she did have some money.

  Ever since her birth, one of her eminent Godfathers, an Archduke, gave her a present every Christmas of a golden coin of the highest denomination in Kostas.

  Each bore the date of the year that he had presented it to her.

  She therefore had eighteen of such gold coins and they constituted a sum of money that fortunately would pay for everything she needed a dozen times over.

  She thought then that she would take ten of the coins from where she kept her special treasures.

  That was the red cabinet in her sitting room and besides the gold coins there was a very pretty snuffbox that Georgi had bought for her as a present the last time he was in Paris.

  There was a necklace made of seashells and she had strung them together years ago when she had been taken for a holiday by the sea.

  There was also a necklace made of cherry stones, which she had been given by one of the gypsies.

  The gypsies passed through Kostas usually in the summer and, because her father was a kindly and generous man, unlike some of the other reigning Monarchs in the region, he had always welcomed them.