Page 101 of Royally Matched
“We thought so,” Sofia replies.
“Which is why we are so interested to learn what it says,” I add.
“Well, let me see.” He reaches into the top pocket of his blazer and pulls out a pair of reading glasses. Unravelling the scroll, he pulls his brows together as he scans the words.
Once the professor translates the scroll, we would havesolved the last part of the puzzle, and our adventure will be over.
“Ah,” the professor says. “Interesting.”
“What’s interesting?” I ask.
He places the scroll on the table and holds each end with his hands, flattening it. “Where did you find this?”
I open my mouth to reply when Sofia jumps in with, “It was hidden in a secret place. I believe it’s been there for some time.”
“I see,” he replies.
“What is it? What does it say?” I ask.
He pulls his glasses from his face. “The thing is, I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
The anticipation gets the better of me. “And?”
“It seems to be a royal decree,” he replies.
“It is?” Sofia exclaims, her eyes wide.
“A royal decree saying what?” I ask.
“I’ll read it to you, shall I?” he offers, and we both eagerly agree. “Hold it flat for me, will you?”
I do as he says as he puts his glasses back on. Pointing at the first words, he reads the text. “By the Grace of God, We, King Ferdinand III of the Kingdom of Ledonia, Sovereign of the Realm, do hereby proclaim and ordain this Decree of Succession, to be known and respected by all our subjects and heirs.”
“Kind Ferdinand III?” Sofia questions. “But he was my great, great grandfather.”
“You mean the current princes and princesses’ great, great grandfather,” I add hurriedly.
“Yes. Of course. That’s what I meant,” she replies.
The professor gives Sofia an odd look. “Shall I continue?” he asks, and both Sofia and I reply, “Yes!”
“From this day forth, the right of succession to the throne of Ledonia shall not be determined by the sex of that child.Henceforth, any legitimate child of the reigning monarch, be they male or female, shall have equal claim to the throne. This rightful heir shall be declared by the Council of Nobles, in consultation with the reigning monarch or their designated regent, based on the principles of equality, merit, and the best interest of the realm. Given under Our Hand and Seal this twelfth of November in the year of Our Lord 1763.” The professor looks up at us. “It goes on to state that the king decrees that this is the law of the land.”
As he speaks, I watch Sofia. She’s riveted, hanging on his every word, her face a study first in shock, then, as realization dawns, in excitement.
When he’s finished, the professor pulls his reading glasses off and regards us with a serious look on his face. “Is this authentic?”
“I… I don’t know,” Sofia replies haltingly.
“Because if it is, the laws of succession, by which the Crown passes from parent to son, have been ignored. Nay, refuted for hundreds of years.”
All this time, I’d assumed that Amelia was using this riddle as a clever way to throw Sofia and me together. It didn’t once occur to me that this scroll would have potential implications that could be both serious and far reaching. But instead, we’ve found a document that means that, since 1763, the Crown has quite possibly been passed to the wrong member of the royal family.
This is huge! Huger than huge!
We need to do some backtracking with the professor—and fast.
“This has been a fantastic game, and we are so very grateful to you for your help, Dr. Esposito,” I say.