“My father believes he rules part of Germany through the divine right of kings.”
“But, if she’s still a princess—” Dieter mused, turning the glass of whiskey between his palms.
“She is,” Wulfram stated, his voice hard and certain.
“—and she and Pierre had this huge argument over courtesy titles versus royal titles—”
“Yes,” Wulfram said, his dark blue eyes narrowing.“Women are accorded courtesy titles when they marry a member of the royal family, though usually the husband’s first name is incorporated into the title. However, as members of the royal family are often granted a royal dukedom or other high, noble title when they marry, the royal dukedom outranks the courtesy title. Thus, while Kate Middleton holds the courtesy title of Princess William,her higher and more correct title is Kate, Duchess of Cambridge.”
Dieter frowned. “But Princess Diana wasn’t called duchess.”
“Charles was already the Prince of Wales. Wales is a principality, and thus Prince of Wales is a sovereign title like the Prince of Monaco, so she was Princess Diana, the Princess of Wales. When William takes that seat, then Kate will be Princess Katherine.”
Time totwist the proverbial knife.
Dieter grinned at him. “Thus, from my rudimentary and incomplete knowledge of how courtesy titles are handed out—”
He waited, still grinning wolfishly.
Understanding dawned in Wulfram’s dark blue eyes, and then exasperation.“Are you serious?”
Dieter lifted his glass of bourbon and grinned at Wulfram. “Well, if Flicka is still a princess, as you say, and if it iscustomary—”
Wulfram’s jaw clenched like he was grinding his teeth together. “I cannot believe we are having this conversation.”
“Hey, it’s notmyroyal house, and it’s notmyroyal rules. But if that’s what you’re supposed to do, I can’t mess things up foryouroyal people, can I?”
“Dieter, Iwill not,”Wulfram sputtered. “I cannotbelieve—”
“I’m just bringing up the subject because she saida bunch of stuff about courtesy titles, and it seemed to me that it wasn’t even up to us. It’s about the traditions of the royal House of Hannover. It’s practically a law, right?”
“The House of Hannover doesn’t have laws.” Wulf’s statement bordered on a snarl.
“Oh, but there’s semi-Salic law and agnatic-cognatic inheritance, and I don’t even know what else.” His grin widened on his face, andhis expression felt like it was becoming a little malevolent. “Surely, there’s a law that, if you marry a princess, don’t you get to be a prince?”
“Dieter, surely youwouldn’t,surely youdon’t—”
He sipped the Pappy Van Winkle bourbon, savoring the rich whiskey. “I think I do.”
“This is inconceivable.”
“It’ll be fun,” Dieter said. “You and I can ‘Prince Wulfram’ and ‘Prince Dieter’ each otherover supper at Christmas.”
Wulfram ground his teeth, and then he sighed into his bourbon. “I suppose it’s better than ‘Prince Pierre of Hannover.’ After he cheated me out of millions during the Devilhouse deal, I thought I might have to hire an assassin to rid myself of him.”
They both studied their drinks for a moment, considering that it had ended the way it had.
After what Pierre had doneto Flicka on so many fronts, Dieter couldn’t conjure up much sorrow for the rat bastard. In many ways, the world was a better place without that cheating narcissist. Pierre had left behind a widow and four fatherless kids because he couldn’t have the power he’d been promised merely because he’d been born at the right place and time.
A lot of anger was going to be directed at the hole Pierre hadleft in the world for many years.
After a second, Dieter and Wulfram shook off the melancholy and drank deeply, not so much a toast as washing a bad taste out of their mouths.
Wulfram held the square bottle of bourbon. “Top you off?”
“Thought you’d never ask.”
“You’re not serious about this courtesy title nonsense, are you?” Wulf asked.
