“What?”Dree demanded and then clapped her hand over her mouth.
Georgie shrugged and said to her, “The Monegasque throne is male-preferredprimogeniture succession with an election by restricted noble electors, but there may be problems with agnatic inheritance and Salic law. No one likes it. Creates problems, like, the whole plot of Shakespeare’sHenry V.”
Oh, that totally cleared everything up.
Dree wrote,Grapes make wine. Smashed ones.
“But the line went through Princess Charlotte,” Maxence said. “She was the heir apparent, and her son Rainier III inherited the title.”
Yeah, of course, Max knew the piddly details of whatever they were talking about. Princess Charlotte was probably his great grandmother or something.
Georgie nodded. “But Princess Charlotte abdicated in favor of her son as soon as she legally could when he was eighteen, and it was before her father died. She was never actually crowned. The monarchy skipped a generation when the Council confirmed him.”
“That sucks,” Dree said.
“Yeah,” Georgie said to her and nodded, wrinkling her nose.
Maxence said, “But times have changed.”
“But the Council of Nobles has only confirmed the guy who was first in line for the throne, anyway,” Alexandre said. “They’re just a rubber stamp. What makes you think they will elect someone who isn’t the heir apparent?”
“Because I believe the Council will ultimately make the good and moral choice,” Maxence said.
Alexandre snorted. “Okay.”
Max said, “Just because inheritance is passedpreferentiallythrough the male line doesn’t mean that wecouldn’thave a sovereign princess. Christine, wouldn’t you like to be the first to challenge the gender barrier?”
Christine shook her head.“Nope.”
“But surely you must—”
“Nope. Never.”
Alexandre talked to Christine. “Look, Maxence already took Holy Orders because he assumed Pierre was going to inherit, so he’s out. I have that little problem from when I was a teenager that people will take offense to. You are the last person standing between Uncle Jules and the throne.”
Christine shook her head. “I’m not doing it. I like breathing. And if you coerce enough votes to elect me, my second official act will be to abdicate. My first will be to send ninja assassins after you both.”
Maxence sighed. “Is there anything I can do, anything at all, to change your mind? We can keep you safe.”
Christine shook her head again. “I don’t think you can protect me. Jules is going to do whatever it takes to be crowned. He’s going to turn this country into a dictatorship. After that, we’ll have to play by Orwell’s rules. The only way to fight him is to look like we’re not.”
Alexandre cocked his head to the side. “So, you would leave our fellow Monegasques to be ruled by a dictator?”
Christine set her jaw. “I’d rather be a fighter in the resistance than a martyr for the cause. Getting in Jules Grimaldi’s way will get you killed.”
Maxence steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “What if we could make it look like you were drafted? You could continue denying any interest in the throne right up until you accepted and took power.”
“Nope. My lack of interest in the throne is absolutely genuine.”
Alexandre tucked his chin to his chest and crossed his arms. “Dammit.”
Dree hadn’t written anything in a while, so she scribbled,The French vineyards are producing enough wine for Monaco for supper tonight.
Maxence leaned back in his chair and laced his fingers behind his head. “I’ve identified a few candidates, but I must admit, I was hoping this discussion would go differently.”
After a whole lot more talking about relatives and Dree making up stuff about wine, the others left, and Dree was alone with Maxence again.
He said, “My apartment, midnight.”
