Chapter 22 Dauphin
By now it was 4 o'clock in the afternoon so we decided to head back to the Basilica Saint Remi in order to make sure the trap door was securely in place. Roselinde talked as she walked with pace and determination. Lilly and I listened sympathetically as we knew the whole episode had been deeply personal and certainly a reality check. We were not sure what she would make of the whole experience as it depended entirely on her belief system and paradigm base. Would she go public with the discovery of the secret tunnels or not that was entirely up to her.
'"I would rather we just let it be. I'm not sure what to make of all this, as far as I am concerned I would rather it stayed sealed forever; too many painful memories." Her voice was barely audible, her face blanched and she was totally lost in thought.
As we reached the entry door of the Basilica I turned to her and gazed into her soul through her sea grey eyes. I could see many lives and such pain. I held her gently and spoke with a softness that I was unaccustomed to. "We respect your feelings and you can be reassured that we will never write a word of this unless you give us permission; we promise."
I shot a sideways glance at Lilly for confirmation, she simply nodded her approval and stared bashfully at the ground. The moment passed and we swiftly moved on through the now familiar gothic spaces. Down the stone steps to the crypt and through the labyrinthine forest of limestone columns to the East wall where the enigmatic trap door waited. Lilly looked around to check that we were alone and then shone her torch at the floor. It was very difficult to tell which flagstone had been the cover as there was no evidence of any disturbance what so ever. The flagstones were perfectly polished and contained no dust to give away forensic clues as to our previous nefarious activities.
Satisfied Roselinde turned to leave her mind lost in a turmoil of questions. Her silent contemplation was palpable for her regularly ordered English life had been turned upside down and inside out. It was a lot to digest. Lilly followed and after a brief pause for thought so did I.
Then just as I galvanised myself into motion the familiar flashing lights and tunnel vision returned unannounced and with a forceful vengeance. With out protest I surrendered to their fairy like ethereal beauty. Observing I remained calm and centred for I had become accustomed to these cerebral forces in my head. I rationalised briefly that it must have been the sudden release of the collective focus that had allowed me to return to the medieval period and the memories held captive in the stones and my mind. Time and place had now conspired to trigger a vivid flashback of vibrant intensity. The intense energy imprint in the limestone walls was of such highly charged emotion that it now dragged my subconscious back to a past that I had experienced in another physical body.
I was a willing servant of the energy for I had been waiting for this very moment. The lighting changed, torches flickered in wall mounted iron braziers and the smell became much more agricultural. I felt heavier and confined in my movements. Looking down I could see that I was wearing blackened armour and an azure blue surcoat with saltire argent upon which was emblazoned a red winged beast. From my viewpoint I could only see the tail and lower half of the strange heraldic creature but I knew exactly what it was! It was the red dragon that I had seen so overtly displayed at Landremont, the very same icon that we had discovered at Chateau Jaulny. I was Robert des Armoises, sieur d'Tichemont, Chevalier noir de Metz. I stood fully caparisoned engaged in a solemn and sacred occasion of great importance. I felt an immediate sense of pride and stiffened my sinews accordingly. In my right hand I reverently held the black oak staff of a furled banner to protect it from the dust and dirt of the crypt. It felt extremely precious and of great import. It gave me a buzz of electricity that surged through my body and I knew that I had sworn allegiance to its Lord that I would die defending it for it was much most than just a tattered piece of cloth. The space was full of knights and priests engaged in a ceremony. Lesser knights and men-at-arms stood in hushed silence monitoring events.
At the centre I could see four exquisitely caparisoned knights of great wealth kneeling to receive a golden dove from the ecclesiastical monks present. I recognised their coats of arms which proclaimed that they were the Marshal Jean de Brosse, Lord of Boussac, and of Ste SÃ©vÃ¨re, Gilles de Laval, Baron of Rais, Jean de Graville, the High Master of Crossbowmen and Louis de Culant, Baron of ChÃ¢teauneuf-sur-Cher, Admiral of France.
In their midst barefoot was the Abbot of Saint Remi Jean Canard, his hands firmly clasped in prayer. The abbot and an extremely solemn man placed the dove in the now outstretched hands of the bishop. His presence told me that this could be but one occasion; the coronation of the Dauphin July 17, 1429.
The four hostages of the sacred ampoule had come to escort the divine oil given by God to Saint Remi to anoint Clovis all those years ago. God had appeared as a dove and handed the oil to the saint, this was the significance of the golden dove. I knew that inside would be a crystal vial containing the holy oil. The entourage would be joined and assembled in its full glory for the procession to the Cathedral of Notre Dame.
Directly following the Sacred Ampoule procession I could see the Royal Sword entourage. The Royal Sword blade was engraved with fleur-de-lys in a column from the hilt to its point. The naked blade with its point uppermost was carried and held aloft and would be for the entire ceremony by the Constable. At the coronation of Charles VII, the honour of carrying the Royal Sword should have gone to Arthur de Richemont, Constable of France. But the honour has been given to TrÃ©moille's nephew, Lord Charles dâ€™Albret. I recognised his distinctive quartered red and blue surcoat the fleur-de-lys modern proudly emblazoned on their azure blue field. Richemont had been the Dauphin's favoured advisor but had been driven away in disgrace from the court because of the political intrigues of the Duke de la TrÃ©moille who taken Richemont's place.
The traditional Royal Sword came from the 13th century. I knew it was called in French "of Charlemagne" surnamed "Joyous". This sword along with the other French coronation regalia was stored normally in the Abbey of Saint-Denis, near Paris. It had been fetched just days before.
The peers came next, six laymen and six churchmen that recalled the original coronation of King Clovis when these men made themselves subject to the newly crowned King by holding the crown above the monarch's head during the coronation.
Had France not been in the midst of a civil war, the six lay peers would have been: The Duke of Burgundy, The Duke of Normandy, The Duke of Guyenne, The Count of Flanders, The Count of Toulouse, The Count of Champagne.
Because they were all enemies of Charles VII, substitutes had to be named. I recognised them as: Jean de Valois, Duke of AlenÃ§on, Charles de Bourbon, Count of Clermont, Louis de Bourbon, Count of VendÃ´me, Guy de Montfort, Count of Laval, Georges de La TrÃ©moÃ¯lle, the Grand Chamberlain, Raoul de Gaucourt, Captain of Orleans.
The leading pair were the duke of AlenÃ§on who would dubbed the Dauphin on the morning of the coronation for he would have to be created a knight before the ceremony.
Everyone was dressed in their finest attire and harness of war; surcoats, armour, and banners newly cleaned by teams of squires and pages. Such battles they had fought against all odds and now the miracle was unfolding as foretold by a little peasant girl - La Pucelle - the maid. My eyes started to mist over as the full force of emotion of the minute hit me as a giant wave of realisation. I swallowed hard savouring every second of this moment in time for France was about to regain its King and restore its dignity in full.
The four knights on bended knee stood and turned to leave the crypt via the familiar staircase. The Abbot bearing the golden dove and the monks followed. I am in the retinue of Raoul de Gaucourt, Captain of Orleans. I cling to the banner for it can only be one thing, the banner of our Liege Lord Charles Duc d'Orleans, the very banner that was flown at Agincourt 14 years previous when I was 12 years of age and but a page. My heart races as I have to wait until i am outside the basilica to unfurl it. Sadness then wafts over me as I think of Charles my Duke languishing in English captivity for even though he is in a gilded cage he is still cut off from his beloved city and France. We represent him today Raoul de Gaucourt, myself and our brave men at arms. We are Orleans! We are France!
As we enter the spaciousness of the gothic basilica above I am amazed at how many people there are. The men at arms in their various multicoloured household liveries struggle to keep order. Our horses await at the entrance, silently we mount in a flurry of activity, each hostage with his own retinue in attendance. Many lesser knights attend these great lords and lay peers.
Mounted, the procession pauses momentarily. Raoul leans around, his distinctive white ermine surcoat with two red barbel fish back to back fluttering in the breeze and shouts, "Unfurl the banner Robert! Let Orleans be seen on this great day."
I obey and out flutters the gorgeous azure butterfly from its chrysalis emblazoned with three golden fleur-de-lys modern and a label of three points argent, the personal arms of Charles Duc d'Orleans bloodstained, tattered and unbowed. Today it proclaims his presence for all to see. Roger smiles at me and I smile back my visor raised on my sallet, we both have tears in our eyes.
"You have the honour Robert, for you were the youngest among us at Agincourt."
My mind leaps back instantly to that terrible day. I instinctively grip the banner tighter and thrust it high into the sky! Modestly and with a sense of occasion I refrain from my urge to cry Orleans at the top of my voice but as if in accord with a psychic connection the crowd do it for me. "Orleans, Orleans!" They shout with one voice in recognition; for we were the turning point in regaining our country from the English and the Burgundians.
With dignity, panoply and a certain amount of medieval organised chaos the procession made its way to the Cathedral. The houses are very different, half timbered and huddled together, the sun shines and the people line the street, my horse rears its head champing at the bit as if preparing for a charge but not to day I tell it with a gentle pat of my mailed gauntleted hand to keep calm, this is not Patay. Soothing words take their affect and she calms down. We are one, horse and rider, a mystic union from time immemorial, tempered by trials and tribulation. For Guinevere and I have been together these past five years including one year hard campaigning with La pucelle, today we reap the reward for our devotion and loyalty.
All too soon the procession halts at the entrance of the mighty Cathedral. Inside like an expectant groom the Dauphin awaits his coronation on bended knee. No one could have predicted this moment just six months earlier, except for one demure frail girl whose faith and love for the Dauphin set a country ablaze and miracles followed.
On the steps stood Jehanne with her Jhesus Marie banner fluttering in the breeze, utterly stainless trimmed with gold and painted with God and his angels for all to see. To her immediate right centre stage stood the Archbishop ready to receive the sacred ampoule from the Abbot of Saint Remi and his for dutiful knights. The knights ascend the steps and stand at four corners to protect the Abbot and his holy charge. The Abbot raises the golden Dove for all to see and places it in the hands of the Archbishop. An almighty cheer erupts from the joyful crowd in approbation. The Archbishop raises the dove skyward a second time and the crowd repeat their adulation many are over come with emotion and fall to their knees.
I ascend the steps, banner in hand, Orleans first in order of seniority as of the Boubons and leader of the Armagnac faction whose victory this is. As I did so with slow reverent steps the crowd cheer with shouts of Orleans, Orleans! I come face to face with La pucelle her eyes bore into my soul with pure love, then she smiles and I find myself looking at Roselinde, she has the exact same face. I knew then with certainty that she had been La Pucelle, she smiles "Are you OK? You've been awfully quiet back there."
"Yes awfully quiet." I respond echoing her English accent, "basically I have been physically present but elsewhere in time and space, it's a bit complex but Lilly understands." I smiled a faint smile at Lilly and she smiled back then coyly dipped her chin in a typically engaging fashion that is so characteristic of her demure femininity.
"Tell you later when we have more time over dinner, but today is your day!" I became upbeat as I realised that I knew her secret.
Lilly nudged me, "let's go in we are not here to stand and gossip!"
I blinked in reply still dazed from the flashback, "Yes of course, no rush, it'll keep."
We entered through the open entrance to the might west facade after pausing to take in the magnificence of the medieval stone carving. It was as if the basilica Saint Remi was merely a prelude to the might and utter splendour of La Cathedral Notre Dame de Reims. Its giant Rose window dominated the vista as did the imposing both towers either side.
The sounds of tourists thronging the nave filled my ears as I entered. They spoke in hushed tomes and footsteps could be heard echoing as their feet struck the smooth polished flagstones. I breathed in the air it had that distinct old smell and taste. The limestone felt cool to the touch as I ran my had along a huge column. I was in no hurry and content just to watch Roselinde discover her own truth. I wanted that to be without suggestion or bias. I acted with the thoroughness of a scientist engaged in a ground breaking experiment. The result must be genuine.
Roselinde felt comfortable her expression had changed and she became much lighter in her mood, almost celebratory, her voice more regal and assured. We walked the length of the nave. I then sat on a seat in the front row of the congregation and silently watch Roselinde and Lilly proceed towards the altar illuminated in the distance in front of the Chagall stained glass windows that now replaced the bomb damage from World War 2. I took a quick video on my iPhone just to record this moment and the atmosphere for the record. Then it happened, Roselinde dropped to one knee. I immediately leapt out of my chair and strode swiftly to her side. Lilly stood transfix with one hand gently on Roselinde's shoulder in support. Roselinde was gently sobbing, she wept silently and without the painful emotion I had come to expect. I put my hand softly on her other shoulder without speaking.
"This is the place," she spoke quietly, "it was here that I was overcome with emotion all those years ago."
"World War 2?" Lilly asked in a hushed tone.
"No, much further back 600 years. I knelt before the Dauphin and wept tears of joy, for we had achieved the miracle promised my Saint Catherine, Saint Margaret and the angels. He wore the crown, my beautiful wayward Dauphin. He was trembling in sheer disbelief that the moment of his coronation had finally come to pass against all odds and as foretold by myself, his half sister. The congregation watched in stunned silence. It was a moment like no other in history, so powerful and so poignant. The destiny of France was changed in that instant."
A rapture descended on her face as she looked up her tears stained eyes raised to the heavens and her hands clasped in prayer.
"It was a miracle." She softly cried, "a miracle."
Lilly and I paused for breath, swallowed and gently rubbed her back as she froze in silent memory.
"Well now we know the truth of it." Lilly broke the silence with a whisper, her eyes watering with emotion.
"Yes, the miracle has come to pass exactly as I have seen in my minds eye." I added. I paused as the import of Roselinde's statement hit me like a ton of bricks. "Half sister! Did you say, Half sister?" my voice jumped an octave and several decibels in loudness.
"Yes, I was the Dauphinâ€™s half sister." Roselinde answered matter of factually. "Well Jehanne d'Arc was - that is I mean." She started to splutter as her logical mind kicked back in
"Sacre bleu!" Lilly gasped as the connotations of the statement hit her. "That's one for the history books!"
"Yes, perhaps it is something that we have yet to remember?" I added quickly. Roselinde looked confused and mystified at our rapid conversation in French. I attempted to put her in the picture with a quick explanation. "It has been conjectured as theory that Jehanne was not the simple peasant girl as made out by legend and the history books but that she was the illegitimate 12th daughter of Ysabeau of Barvaria and the Duc d'Orleans. She was a substitute born in the year 1407; interestingly your revelation just now appears to support that theory."
"Ah I see. It seems I have put the cat amongst the pigeons as we say in England!" Roselinde gave a wry smile, "It is quite genuine I definitely felt connected to the Dauphin in that instant." She blushed
I looked at Lilly and finished her thought; it was everything we had worked for in that life. We had been supporting actors on the stage of life and had helped events unfold in a minor but important capacity.
The chivalry and people of France had been the true heroes of the drama. They had suffered and fought hard to free the land from the English â€œGoddamsâ€ and the Burgundian yoke. They had freed themselves inspired by one small girl and a banner. A child divinely inspired by Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret, she had led them to victory against all odds, it had indeed been a true miracle.
As Lilly held Roselinde, I went over and lit 3 small candles. In my mind I knew this was a seminal moment in the quest that had begun just a couple of months previous when we visited Metz, for the Porte Allemand had been the trigger that fired the first shot in this amazing adventure and it wasn't over yet.
After several minutes Roselinde stood up and took a deep breath, "can we go now? I don't think I can take much more of this." She looked pale and in need of rest so we turned silently around and made our way through the myriad of tourists to the exit.
Immediately the sunlight stung our eyes as we left one of the open doors of the main west facade and Roselinde pulled her von Zipper sunglasses over her beautiful damp sea grey eyes. I noticed that they glistened with tears just before the visor slammed shut and cut them off from human view.
We walked over to the statue of Jehanne d'Arc that stands on a large plinth just to the left of the main steps of the west facade. Roselinde couldn't bear to look directly at it but chose instead to sit with her back against the plinth.
"Are all your trips like this?" She said with an air of casual nonchalance and a wry smile, "I'm not sure what to make of it all? I believe in the now. I shall have to think long and hard about what has happened in this city. I hope you can forgive me if I seem less than enthusiastic. Lilly and I understood the paradigm shift that must be occurring in her mind and tried to raise a smile.
"We know how you feel, been there, done that and got the t shirt!" Lilly broke the uncomfortable silence with a youthful response. I was lost for words and was happy just to admire the workmanship of the equestrian bronze of our heroine with her sword raised high. After several minutes lost in contemplation Lilly slapped me on the back, " Come on Yann Baillieu let's go I'm hungry!"
With that she shouldered her camera and helped Roselinde to her feet. "Good idea, I could do with a nice shower and a change of clothes.". Roselinde agreed as she dusted herself down and shouldered her rucksack. With that we marched together along the Rue Libergier, turned right into the Rue des Capucins then on to the golden angel and place Drouet Erlon. Within 20 minutes we were in sight of Le Hotel Bristol. Stopping at the pavement cafe attached to the hotel I broke the silence, "Anyone for goÃ»te? I'm for a cognac cafÃ©, it's been one of those days!"
"No thanks Yann, us girls have to make ourselves beautiful in time for dinner, catch you later. Dinner at eight, don't be late!" Lilly tossed her hair back with an incorrigible smile that denoted the confidence of youth and her own sexuality.
Roselinde tried to smile and followed Lilly into the reception and I lost sight of them amongst the colourful umbrellas and tables. I sat in silence and ordered my drink. When it arrived the caffeine and alcohol stimulus hit the spot and I began to unwind. I mused over events and drifted into silent contemplation. The tourist crowds hummed and thronged the street a few metres away blissful unaware of the events that had transpired and the potential impact on history that would occur should we publish our results. A million stories, a mass of human conscious memory machines each one a book, the thought ran through my mind like a wayward child kicking a ball down a silent street; what an amazing planet this truly is. I smiled at the thought and sipped my cafÃ© cognac savouring its warmth and comfort.
Twenty or so minutes passed when I noticed Roselinde walk by and sit at a table in the corner with her back to me. I found that strange as surely she knew that I was still sat in the same place that she had left me in. Impulsively I shouted out, "I'm still here!" I raised my arm to wave but got no reply. I tried again but this time a little louder. Other people in the cafe began to look and raise their eyebrows but not Roselinde. Puzzled and perplexed by the negative reaction I decided to wander over and tap her gently on the shoulder, perhaps she was lost in thought after the dayâ€™s events?
As I did so she turned around with a start! I recoiled instinctively as it was not Roselinde but instead Deborah Dubois! "I do apologise!" I said in somewhat of a fluster, "Please excuse me but aren't you DD, the mathematics teacher from Lille?"
Deborah looked quite amazed and then burst into laughter," Oh my God it's you Yann, what a coincidence! I only saw you a couple of days ago at Vincent's party. I had no idea that you would be in Reims, what a pleasant surprise."
"I am certainly surprised too, you look just like Roselinde from the back, same hair style and colour. I do apologise please come and join me. Let me buy you a drink. I'll put it on my tab as I am staying here together with Lilly and Roselinde, you met her at the party." I adjusted her chair as she slipped out from her table and made her way to where I was sitting.
"You are very kind Yann. I am still totally amazed at the coincidence but I guess that is how the universe works!" She sounded genuinely in awe. "I'm staying here too!"
DD ordered a glass of Pinot grigio white wine and we carried on our conversation. It transpired that she had been following our articles in the paper as they had struck a chord with her. Finally her curiosity peaked and she decided on the spur of the moment to take a random trip to Reims to break the monotony of the school holidays. Her mother had kindly offered to look after her two girls and take them to the seaside at Saint Valery sur Somme for a few days. It was one of their favourite holiday spots but DD felt that she needed a break from it all. She was after all a busy single mum.
I listened effortlessly as there seemed something so natural and familiar about her manner and conversation. It was as if she were filling in the missing bits in a conversation that we had had forever. As she talked I became more aware if my own emotional feelings of warmth and connection between us, for we had always met in crowds and never on our own.
Time stood still, in fact the whole universe appeared to stop momentarily as I listened. An hour went past in a flash and I only became aware of the time as the shadows grew longer on the pavement. "Hey, it's a quarter past seven and I have showered and changed yet!" I stood to leave abruptly, remembering my manners I add courteously, "say, would you like to join us for dinner? I will ask the girls I am sure they won't mind. In fact they will probably be glad to see you!"
"Ah you sure? I don't want to barge in uninvited." DD sat relaxed and sipped her aperitif.
"I'll text you. What is your number?" Without hesitation she gave me her memorised mobile number and I pumped it into my iPhone. Quickly I pressed the call button on the screen and after a short pause her phone rang. "There you go, my number will be stored in you recent calls. Catch you later I see that you are all ready dressed for dinner."
"Abientot Yann." She stood and we kissed on both cheeks, her Chanel Number 5 perfume electrified my senses. I hesitated but then tore myself away from the random encounter that had completely been unexpected. Deborah sat back down and resumed her people watching.
I hurried upstairs to my room, text Lilly about DD and the amazing coincidences and jumped into the shower. Twenty minutes later I was dressed and ready to roll. I checked my iPhone, Lilly's reply was affirmative so we would join forces at eight for dinner and the debriefing. I immediately copied the text to DD. Events appeared to be speeding up and I was beginning to fit the pieces together in my head. We just needed the evidence.
On the stroke of eight I entered the dining room DD was already sat at an alcove table waiting. We made light conversation and I briefly outlined what had happened since we arrived in Reims so DD would be able to follow the twists and turns of the conversation without getting too lost. She appeared fascinated by the whole thing the history, the physics and the emotion. Her mathematical mind began to click and she made several comments about multidimensional state spaces and how that might figure in our flashbacks experiences. Our present reality was probably only one facet of such a complex geometrical construct. She concluded that somehow we were able to navigate between realities due to the ability of our subconscious to connect and feed through to our conscious mind. It strangely all seemed to make sense and I realised that there was more to our chance meeting than met the eye.
Just then the girls entered both looked tired but radiant. Lilly wasted no time and ordered four Kir royale aperitifs and we perused the menu. The waiter returned with our drinks and we set down to business. Roselinde was still visibly shaken. "I really don't know what to make of all this it conflicts totally with my basic core belief system." She said quiet firmly. "I believe in the NOW and what we do in this life. I don't want to dwell on what may have been in the past."
Lilly and I were shocked by Roselinde's blunt statement but we realised that each person must find their own truth so we respected her honesty and integrity at being upfront with us. DD listened intently. Dinner arrived and I found that without consciously thinking DD and I had ordered the exact same main course; salmon. Roselinde steered the conversation away from anything heavy and chatted politely about Reims in general and asked DD what she had done since arriving. As at Vincent's party they seemed to have a natural empathy for each other.
Having had sufficient of the main we ordered light desserts, a lemon sorbet in my case and then the cheese arrived. Just a taste of Abondance and a glass of red wine was sufficient for my waist line. Roselinde then cleared a space and placed the Ausweis card on the table.
"I have decided that I need time to digest what has happened here. The pain is too great in this place, so I have decided to return to England and visit the crop circles in Wiltshire in order to restore my energies. They are in full flow at the moment and I need an energy boost. Then I shall return to Aldeburgh to write up my journal and analyse all that has transpired. I hope you don't mind but I really need to rest and heal?"
Silence descended as we all took in exactly what Roselinde had said. It was quite a shock for Lilly and I as we felt enthusiastic and hot on the trail. After a long pause I broke the silence. "You must do what you must do. Follow your heart. I respect that."
"So do I." Lilly added quietly as she held up her wine glass to the candle light in order to observe its beautiful dark blood red colour.
"We look forward to hearing of your deliberations in due course. Meantime we will continue to get to the bottom of things this side of the channel."
I went to continue but Roselinde gently placed her had on top of mine in reassurance and to halt my flow. "This is not the end Yann. I feel that there is much more to come before you find the truth. We shall meet again I am sure of it. Meanwhile just to inspire you onward I discovered this." She spoke with all the deliberation and candour of a poker player holding four aces as she pushed the Ausweis towards me.
"Open it!" She said without looking up. I opened up the simple white card and was immediately transfixed by the photograph exactly as I had been initially, it was Roselinde for sure. "Now read the name." Roselinde added a smile.
I hurriedly read the German print.
Name: von Bogen
DRK Dienstgrad: Helferin
Geburtstag- und Ort: 8.4.20 MÃ¼nchen
Then the penny dropped. "Oh my, no it can't be! Von Bogen is d'Arc in French and Johanna is Jehanne! Johanna von Bogen in German is Jehanne d'Arc in French."
Lilly snatched the Ausweis from me. "It is you know! It is written here totally for real in black and white." Her jaw dropped as the realisation of the intricate workings of the universe hit home. DD took the card and looked for herself as Lilly and I sat there dumbfounded and frozen like statues in time. " it is an identical likeness so exact. Totally amazing I have never seen such a thing in my life!"
"And look at the birthplace - MÃ¼nchen in Bavaria. The Bavarian connection! I looked up on Bogens' on the Internet whilst Lilly was in the shower and it said that they were a noble Bavarian family, she was of aristocratic birth."
"Oh my God it's all there in black and white." DD added as she handed the Ausweis card back to Roselinde.
"Now on that bombshell I think we should all drink lots of champagne." Roselinde summoned the waiter and ordered two bottles of Reim's finest. "My treat as you have looked after me quite Royally!" Roselinde laughed and started to visibly relax. The healing had begun.