“It would have been fatiguing,” I said. “I should have quarreled with you. There is not room on the throne for two men.”
He laughed abruptly at that.
The next morning General Hartzel aroused me at an unearthly hour. He made me dress in a steel-corseleted uniform. It was exceedingly gorgeous and stiff with gold lace.
“It is the uniform of the Colonel of the Royal Guards,” he told me.
“Promotion is rapid in Ertaria,” I said. “I was an unconsidered subaltern in our Blues.”
“The army is reviewed today on the Plain of Liberty,” he said, “by Prince Tertourgki. He is regent during your absence.”
“And the second cousin?”
“Is his aide-de-camp—Prince Otho. The Russian Minister will be there.”
“And his august name?” I demanded.
“Baron Ivaniski.”