“A morganatic marriage I did think of at first. But on second thoughts I saw it would be ungrateful.”
“Ah yes, to the country which expects so much of you.”
“No, to the woman who has the right to all or nothing. I will make her Empress of Rhaetia.”
With a cry the Chancellor sprang up. His eyes glared like the eyes of a bull who receives the death stroke. His working lips, and the hollow sound in his throat alarmed the Emperor.
“No, your Majesty. No!” he panted.
“But I say yes,” Leopold answered, “and let no man give me nay. I’ve thought it all out. I will make her a Countess first. Then, she shall be made my Empress.”
“Your Majesty, it is not possible.”
“Take care, Chancellor.”
“She has been deceiving you. She has neither the birth, the position, nor the name she claims to have, and I can prove it.”
“You are mad, von Breitstein,” the Emperor flung at him. “That can be your only excuse for such words.”