"I fear it is a bit early for me to choose my Prime Minister," I said.
His smile became a laugh. "Let us pass to my second question. It, however, demands no thinking. There is ample evidence of your intention as to the Princess."
"Then, why ask it?" I inquired.
"Because, of her intention toward you, I am not so sure—but, women are queer creatures and prone to take queer crotchets. You aim to marry her; and so, having won the King and stolen my birth-right, to use her popularity to secure you on the Throne. You see, all roads lead to the Throne."
"All roads which His Highness of Lotzen travels," I observed.
He tilted back the chair; then let it drop sharply forward to the floor.
"Just so, cousin, just so," he said.
"And one of those roads passes by your Chateau?" I asked.
For an instant, he seemed to suspect my true meaning, and I regretted the word. Then the suspicion faded and he accepted them at their face value.
"Morals have nothing to do with a King," he laughed; "nor with the subject under consideration."