CHAPTER 10
Lysa considered herself blessed.
Life was good.
He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.
Bernadotte.
Every Swedish king since that time was a direct descendant, in a straight line, from Charles XIV. Oscar I, Charles XV, Oscar II, Gustav V, Gustav VI, Carl XVI, and the current king, Wilhelm I.
Her older brother.
She came into the world on a snowy night at Haga Palace outside Stockholm, the second child of the then-king of Sweden, given the name Elisabeth Helena Lysa, after three of her ancestors.
She was educated at the palace, then at private school, and came to love the theater.
She attended the Royal Dramatic Training Academy and worked for a short time as an actress.
Twice Ingmar Bergman directed her onstage.
That had been an exciting time. She loved performing.
Occasionally, she’d harbored thoughts of doing it again, but realized that was impossible, royal princesses simply did not do that.
She had, though, kept up her association with the arts by raising money for scholarships awarded to students of music, design, and art, enabling them to develop their talents early in their careers.
That had brought her both notoriety and more public appreciation.
But it had also provided a great measure of satisfaction.
John was so proud of her accomplishments.
I Peter 3:7 said it all.
Likewise, husbands, live with your wives in an understanding way, showing honor to the woman as the weaker vessel, since they are heirs with you of the grace of life, so that your prayers may not be hindered.
She was likewise proud of John. A few years ago the British Crown had bestowed on him one of the highest honors in the United Kingdom, granted only to those who made a significant contribution to the nation.
She’d been there when the king of England had tapped John’s shoulders with a sword and granted him the title of Sir.
What a moment. They’d celebrated with dinner at one of London’s finest restaurants, toasting the day with champagne.
Even now, just thinking about that evening brought a smile to her lips.
Reading was one of her passions, though it came with difficulty thanks to her dyslexia. The room she was occupying had shelves lined with books. Mainly the classics, along with some Swedish histories, which she’d perused.
But she knew all about her homeland.
Three hundred years ago Sweden had been the dominant power in northern Europe, the Baltic then little more than a Swedish inland sea.
What a glorious time. But by the early nineteenth century all that power had faded.
Militarism ended. The country assumed a more benign stature, withdrawing into itself, becoming famously neutral on the world stage.
Politics had never interested her. She’d only been second in line to the throne until her late twenties.
Once Wilhelm married and birthed children that option ended.
Fine by her. She had no desire to be queen.
She much preferred her current life as a wife and royal princess.
The press treated her with a light hand.
She’d been called warm, engaging, and funny, with an impressive ability to disarm her listeners.
A description she liked. She was always relaxed when it came to protocol, greeting people with a light handshake and a pleased to see you. Pretentiousness had no place with her.
She caught her reflection in the window.
How elegant she looked in a blue-and-red floral dress and matching jacket.
Just a hint of red highlighted her thin lips, and the lightest dusting of face powder brought color to her pale cheeks.
Wisps of gray flecked her chestnut hair, and her complexion remained flawless.
She wore sensible flat-heeled shoes, but her legs and slender frame remained the physique of a former actress.
Ephesians 2:10 said it all.
For we are his workmanship created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.
Her floral gardens back home were her passion, their beauty and delicacy unparalleled in central England.
She missed that tranquility. But her husband was dealing with something of great importance.
He had come to her and sincerely asked for help.
She readily agreed to cooperate, no questions asked, though he’d assured her all would be explained.
So she would sit and enjoy the view.
Maybe read some of the books. Eat a few cookies. Have some tea.
Like Monica had said.
All would be over by tomorrow afternoon.