The Queen's Decision: (p 79)
She leaned back and studied the two young people before her... and
gradually it dawned on her. History was staring her in the face. She'd
successfully steered the Monarchy through the turbulent second half
of the 20th century, only to see its future standing before her in
the form of Diana's son and his Australian girlfriend. Suddenly Diana's
relevance in the scheme of things took on a new dimension and Elizabeth
felt the powerlessness of being a pawn in her own game. There was
no choice to make... She must support this union, otherwise it will
have all been for nothing.
"We must throw it all to the winds..." she whispered more
to herself, realising that the attempt to maintain control was futile,
and stated with a sigh, "It's in God's hands then..."
Reality Strikes: (p 231)
So, I've been banished, have I? she thought, deeply saddened. Allowing
the 'prince' full rein wasn't going to work this time. He'd released
her from that particular rule. She breathed, felt a growing rage,
and opened her mouth.
"Forget the Queen," she snarled. "I'm not sure that
I want to marry you if this is how you behave when things get a little
tough. You can't just banish me when I've said the wrong thing or
you've simply had enough! What exactly is it you fear, William? My
opinions or my lack of breeding?"
"I don't want to talk about this," he said, quietly and
"Well, I'm sorry about that," she said, ignoring the implied
threat, and strode to the opposite end of the room, breathing deeply
and gathering her thoughts. She returned to him, glaring. "I
don't care who you are... How dare you tell me how to behave! What
to say... who to talk to... As far as I'm concerned, your title doesn't
give you unlimited licence to treat me like one of your minions!"
She seethed. "When are you going to get it? You're just another
human being living in just another degree of pain and fear... You
have no authority over me!"
William watched her fury burn itself out without speaking ... he lifted
his head up higher, trying to assuage the sense of smallness which
assailed him, with false pride.
Isobel strode towards him, close enough to be looking down at him
as he sat in the chair, and spoke very quietly. "I think we've
been ignoring reality," she said. "We've been in a fantasy
world... and it's time we woke up."
Apart: (p 250)
In odd moments of rational thought, he shuddered to think how low
he had sunk. He knew it was up to him to contact her, but he simply
couldn't make himself do it. He picked up the phone once, calculated
the time in Australia and punched in all but the last digit... then
stopped and cursed himself for his cowardice. Why? he asked himself.
Why can't I do it? The answers slid from his mind. She doesn't want
me... I can't change who I am... But everyday the arguments sounded
more hollow... rapidly losing their power. Finally, the only reason
left was that if he contacted her, at the very least, he'd have to
offer to abdicate and an unknown future frightened him more than he
cared to admit. 'Duty' and 'honour' was still more important, in his
mind, than love, despite knowing in his heart that no one else could
ever ease the burden of separation from Isobel. Life without a quest
seemed empty and meaningless... but if he truly cast her from his
heart and mind, his life would have no meaning anyway, so he held
on tenaciously to the memory. It was a dilemma which refused to be
True Allegiance: (p 266)
"You speak of freedom as I've never known it." He was silent
a moment, staring ahead. Then he turned towards her. "My allegiance
is the same as yours... to God - Truth, Power and Love."
Isobel watched him closely.
He stretched his legs and spoke quietly, earnestly. "You've taught
me that if I don't 'receive' those things into myself first, I can't
'give' them. I can't be a king if I've turned Love away. A king is
a conduit... a channel to the Divine." He stopped, a little surprised,
and chuckled. "Doesn't that reek of the 'Divine Right of Kings'?"
"It does rather. What do you mean?"
He was thoughtful. "I mean, that on some level beyond our normal
understanding... on an archetypal level of consciousness, it exists
like that. It always has and it always will. It's beyond time... and
beyond logic. People want to see a political king so they feel they've
somehow glimpsed God. But it's not my responsibility to be a king
for the world! ... If I accept the Crown, I will be an example...
a symbol of what the people already are. And if I don't, I must do
so in a way which will show people that they can 'touch God' without
a king, otherwise it will be destructive."
William was aware that at the same moment that the words flowed through
him unimpeded, the understanding came. There was no doubt whatsoever,
just absolute clarity. The answer he'd wanted for so long, now seemed
so simple. Why had he not seen it before?
"Yes! Yes... I have to be that... I have to be true unto myself
and accept and allow the Divine to work through me. Yes."
... For the first time she could see its true value... how it had
strengthened and formed him. "That's why you've never quite known
who anyone was relating to... You or 'the prince'."
He nodded slightly. "Exactly. It's more difficult for me than
my father because both his parents were royal. He didn't know there
was any other option. I've always had an awareness of 'being normal'
as well. My mother always made sure of that."
"So in a way she sowed the seeds of your discontent."
"Maybe... but it's also meant I've needed to be more conscious
of the totality of who I am."
"So, how exactly do I fit into this?" she asked.
"How can I be an effective king without you beside me?"
Sovereignty: (p 269)
The story reminded Isobel of a Shakespearian tragedy. It was about
power and truth... yet this was the 21st century. It was about the
human condition, as old as time itself. "Wills, isn't this conflict
the same as you've always had?" she asked softly, when he calmed
a little. "It's an age-old conflict... It's about personal sovereignty...
not just the sovereign."
He was silent, considering for some time, then he turned, wiping his
eyes and looked at her from under his eyebrows. "Yes, I know..."
He considered some more, breathing slowly and trying not to feel the
uneasy swelling of energy within his body. What always caused the
most struggle for him was trying to find harmony between love and
duty... between Spencer and Windsor... between mother and father.
And now, between Isobel and his birthright. His burden suddenly seemed
to crush him.
Dealing With The Machine: (p 307)
"No," Sir David interrupted in some distress, and glanced
at the King, who nodded for him to continue. "We do not want
to be reminded of her opinions, sir. The Monarchy has been damaged
sufficiently by her in the past. If we allow this sort of disclosure..."
"Of real feelings..." William stated with disgust.
The secretary ignored him. "...the public doesn't need to be
reminded of such casual attitudes as she demonstrated. They want a
royal family that is... noble and refined."
"'Removed', you mean. And, what's more, you're incorrect!"
The Prince sighed. "Might I remind you that we are not discussing
her suitability, Sir David. She is my wife!" he stated and added,
scathingly, "And she did not invent republicanism!"
Sir David was silenced.