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The Last Princess

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It was just about twelve years ago that we met Princess Tatiana Von Metternich. We had been having drinks with an old Irish drunk in a part of France that was more German than French and the topic of discussion was how to avoid having to do anything that might resemble working for a living. Our proposal was marrying a wealthy young woman who we had run into on the Spanish Mediterranean.
“She’s an heiress?” Timothy asked.
“Yeah. Her grandfather invented a machine that makes extension cords or something?”
“Eh. Women who stand to inherit only money are no good. Heiress should be a dirty word. What you need, lad, is a woman from one of the old families.”
Six days later we were at a party being introduced to Tatiana Von Metternich, who was then in her late seventies and completely stunning. It made us wish we had been young during her youth, and then made us thank God we weren’t. Living your life knowing you had (at best) married the second best woman in the world would have been too painful.
Yesterday the Princess died. The world is a little less pretty and a little less magical today.

Princess Tatiana von Metternich


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