I don’t have much news. In a letter that arrived along with yours, Irène has written that, in Berlin, Kindred Spirit Willy has infuriated his mother by sending you and Eddy unqualified congratulations on your engagement and by being totally uncaring that his sister has, yet again, been passed over. Poor Mossy. I do feel for her, but, like Cousin Willy, I am very, very happy for you. All the unlikeable members of our vast family – those who have never let you forget your Serene Highness status – will now have to behave very differently towards you. Where some of them are concerned, it is something I would very much like to see!

Alicky started another paragraph:

Granny Queen has now turned her matchmaking passion to poor Ernie, who is ducking and diving and so far showing great resilience at not falling in with her plans. He is twenty-three now and, as Papa’s heir (and being the only boy), even Papa is anxious to see him suitably married and safeguarding the family line and title by producing a son (and, Papa says, preferably producing more than one son). In my wildest imagination, I cannot imagine Ernie ending up the father of a platoon, as Willy and Dona have. As their tally of boys is now six, I think it is safe to say that the throne of the German Empire has been well and truly secured!

She laid her pen down. The prospect of Ernie marrying wasn’t one she was looking forward to. With all three of her elder sisters married and living their lives far from Darmstadt – Vicky in whatever British naval base Louis was stationed at; Ella in a palace in Russia; and Irène in a palace in Berlin – she, Alicky, was First Lady of Darmstadt, and it was a title she would lose when Ernie married.

Having acted as her father’s hostess ever since Irène’s marriage to Heinrich, and having become accustomed to giving and presiding at dinner parties and receptions and at the balls that regularly took place in the New Palace’s white-and-gold ballroom, the thought of having to hand over all such responsibilities to Ernie’s bride was not a pleasant one.

More importantly, it wasn’t pleasant when she had finally accepted that, much as she loved Nicky, and much as he loved her, she was never going to be able to marry him – and that if she couldn’t marry Nicky, she was going to remain single until her dying day.

She picked up her pen again:

I wish I had good news to send you where I am concerned, but nothing has changed.