A Royal Beginning [Book 1 of The English Lion]

XCII. Alexander

Throughout March, I threw myself back to work, and did I mention that I had received the General Service Medal [1918] for my service in Palestine both in 1936 and 1937? No? Oh, well. I guess I just did. But anyway, after what happened on Valentine's Day (it was a botched attempt from the beginning, and looking back, it has really poor planning prior to the attempt), the next chance is Isabelle's birthday.

The evening of Friday,15th April 1938, and let's just say I had arrived in Paris. I would be in my room in the Palace of Versailles, minding my business after arriving at the palace. I would by studying the engagement ring that I made. More like admiring my own handiwork.

Diamonds imported from India, and the metalwork is from England's local mines. Meanwhile, the design is recalling France. Hm... International, indeed. The box itself was made from Belgian linen and felt, alongside imported Danish wood. Again, an international product.

The moment someone entered my room, I closed the box and put it in my pocket in a swift moment. I looked at the visitor to find it to be none other than the King himself. I immediately stood and bowed.

"Votre Majesté, [Your Majesty,]" I greeted him as I straightened myself. He dismissed the need to speak in French.

"I'm just here to check up on you, Alexander," He told me and I nodded.

"I'm doing fine, sir," I replied.

"Oh? What do you think about Anschluss last month, hm?" He asked. I sighed before I sat down at the coffee table, quiet.

"Hm, I thought so," The King stated, closing the door behind him and walked to the coffee table before sitting down.

"In my lifetime, I would hope to see the end of wars and live out my life in peace. But, unfortunately, someone has different plans," He continued, looking somewhat dismayed.

"I'm trying not to think about it. The Anschluss. There's so much going on my plate and the fact that the world is about to go to war for the second time this century with Germany... It's astonishing," I told him, "It's always the German Question, isn't it, sir?"

"Indeed, Alexander," The King told me, "As I said, I'm just checking up on you, that's all. Get some sleep, you need it. Isabelle's birthday is tomorrow, and there are no excuses for you to put it off now that you're here."

I chuckled as he stood, and left.

"Goodnight, sir," I called out before heading off to sleep.

Mid-afternoon of Saturday, 16th April 1938, and here I am, have doubts about this... business of proposing. I mean... It's too early... Isn't it? I sighed, as I stopped fidgeting with the box in my pocket. The party would continue into the early evening, as I would put the proposal to rest, thinking that it was too early.

The next day, I returned to London. I said nothing to Hugo, nor anyone else about the whole ordeal, knowing that I had just blown up another opportunity to propose. Inwardly, I'm beating up myself because of it.


Damn it.