Epilogue

November, 1634

Though nothing can bring back the hour

Prague

Duke Albrecht of Bavaria looked at the letter that had just arrived. So now Rudolf Philipp, Landgrave of Leuchtenberg, was dead also. Mechthilde's last surviving nephew had been considerably brighter and more competent than his unfortunate late older brother, Maximilian Adam. Rudolf had stayed behind to complete the inspection tour of Austria's defenses against the Turks when Ferdinand III was called back to Vienna. He had been killed in a random minor skirmish on the Hungarian border, no different from any of a dozen others that occurred along the border with the Ottomans every day.

He crossed himself. Contrary to all reasonable expectation, his own sons, wherever they might be and please God they were still safe and well, would now unite Leuchtenberg with Bavaria-if, of course, they could expel the Swedish occupiers from Leuchtenberg. And if they some day inherited whatever might be left of Bavaria by the time Maximilian died.

At the moment, it seemed highly improbable that Maximilian would remarry. Duke Albrecht looked back, reflecting on the irony of it all. The situation could probably have been saved if they had simply permitted Maximilian to abdicate when he wanted to after Elisabeth Renata's death.


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