My Nephew, My King

Isabella's Jealousy

"Mama! Papa! You're here!" George and Joanna turned to see their young son running toward them, tears running down his cheeks.

"Tommy!" Joanna grabbed the little boy and squeezed him tight. "Where have you been? We've been looking everywhere for you!"

"I saw a rabbit and ran after it," Thomas said. "While I was running I came to the stream. I took my shoes off because I wanted to wade in it. While I was wading in the water, I saw the rabbit again and ran after it. After awhile I got lost and was really scared. I came to the stream again, and that's when I saw you."

"Well, all's well that ends well, I suppose," George said lightly. Joanna just held the boy tightly and didn't say anything.

Within a couple of hours, Mary was fine. She asked her mother about Philip and was told that he'd already left.

"I wanted so badly to say good-bye to him," she said.

After saying good-bye to Philip, Isabella danced away joyfully. "He's mine!" she sang gleefully.

The following day, Philip visited again to see how Mary was feeling. He brought her a bouquet of flowers. Isabella saw him coming and rushed to meet him. "Why, Philip, they're lovely!" she exclaimed, reaching for the flowers. "Thank you!"

"They're for Mary," Philip told her, holding the flowers out of her reach. She pouted as he went in search of her sister.

"Mary!" he exclaimed when he saw her. "Do you feel all right?"

"I'm fine, thanks," she said with a smile. "I don't know what came over me last night, but it seems to have passed."

Philip handed the flowers to her. "For me? They're lovely! Thank you!"

He smiled. "Would you like to go for a walk with me in the garden?"

"I'd love to!"

"Isabella told me that you have a delicate stomach and become ill frequently," Philip remarked as they strolled.

"Not at all." Mary frowned. "That's the first time I've been sick in so long I can't even remember the last time." An uncomfortable thought occurred to Mary, but she quickly dismissed it. That simply couldn't have happened. Isabella would never be that mean...

"What's she like? Your sister Isabella, I mean."

"She's all right most of the time, I suppose. But she does tend to lose her temper when she doesn't get her way about things."

"She likes me, you know." Philip chuckled.

"Do you like her as well?" Mary held her breath.

"She seems nice, and she's certainly attractive," Philip replied. "But there's a certain connection I feel with you that I've never felt with any other woman."

Mary beamed. Philip lifted her chin with his fingers and kissed her lips. To her it was magic.

From a window in the palace, Isabella watched, fuming.

"I have asked your father for your hand in marriage, and he has given his consent," Philip told Mary a short time later.

"Hurray!" Mary shouted as Philip picked her up and spun her around happily.

The next few days were filled with excited plans for Mary's journey to Bavaria to wed Philip. The only family member who wasn't thrilled about the match was Isabella. She was cross with everyone and glowered darkly at her sister when nobody was looking.

"This wedding will never take place, if there's anything I can do about it," she said to herself.